M6: Battle for Refuge (Ground)

[Huka]

Unggoy Ultra Jadap

The Ultra had trouble pushing a large slab of stone with great heaves but it hardly budged until a greater strength heaved it away. Looking up to the ruined pearlescent combat harness of the Sangheili, Jadap was happy to see the great warrior help in his search for his lance. Thankfully none of them was under the slab, so he continued in the immediate area.

Still calling out names, the Unggoy veteran found the first of his war-brothers; Yumam was laying under a roughed furniture, white cotton covering him over abit humorously (and brought the morbid thought of Fiwip). Thankfully he was alive and able, after some dusting and recovering mindset, the pious minor praised the Gods and energetically helped in the search. Olama was found under some rubble and shook off the shock without much care, unsurprisingly considering his age and knack to survive most of the lance's crazed fates. "Still nothing..." He mused abit disappointed, Yumam tilted his head in confusion but Jadap knew he meant in surviving the explosion. "Perhaps another day, Olama." The larger male said, finding Lupim not too far away...but he was having trouble with his rebreather as methane hissing wastingly. Quick to act, Jadap pressed the mask to his face while Yumam quickly pulled out some thing to plug up the deep scarring. It took a precious rook before a strap of dirty sheets was used to wrap around his face and the noticeably green gases.

"How much?" Lupim mufled under his mask, which had his fellow check on his harness' gas-tank. "...A half-cycle." There was a sense of dread amongst the lance. A half-cycle!? Will the battle continue to the next cycle? For the cycle-line? No one knows and that is what's scary. To die suffocating on an alien world instead of a merciful shot to the face or heart...or better, in the clutches of your clan after a long beautiful life? A rare blessing for a race of bred laborers and cannon fodders. The others bowed their head to this in preparation of a possible death. Lupim whimpered to himself, holding onto his commander's shoulders tight...afraid. Jadap did the same for a moment, "We'll make it." He lied. A good lie but a lie nonetheless.

In the middle of this, a nearby rubble rolled at the shift of movement. Taking notice, Olama quickly move over and used his long-earned strength to pull and move stones of fallen building until the dead bloodied body of Vakak rolled out for everyone to see.

"Vakak!" Jadap cried out, letting go of Lupim and scrambled over quick with the others. The major was certainly dead, eyes rolled back with exposed mouth in a final gasp of cruel oxygen instead of precious methane. A hand grasping at a deeply-impaled dagger in his side with thick azure blood still drooling from the wound.

Jadap felt himself gasping and sucking great lungfuls, Vakak was his second-in-command, his advisor and perhaps closest thing to a brother. They have survived many battles together. He felt the pains of his first battle in his poor heart and fell on his knees, taking his dead brother in his arms and made a odd noise that could be only best described as a cry. Reaching down to the knife that helped kill Vakak, he twisted and ripped it out with a twitch of the already dead body.

"Rest in the Paradise that we all crave; rich of methane, free of pain and death. No more work. No more labor. Rest now and we will meet again." He whispered in his native tongue.

With stinging eyes, the Ultra look at the knife; it had a foot-long blade with a subtle curve towards its serrated edge. Its hilt had three impresses of a thick middle and twin smaller ones on the other side. Kig-yar. Looking up to where the body fell from, the Unggoy looked upon the broken body of a Skirmisher Commando, armor ragged from the blast and half of his ugly face melted with the rest of his left side. Glaring down at the angry Unggoy, the T'vaoan cackled weakly yet evil all the same. Growling venomously, Jadap laid Vakak's body down before climbing up towards the Commando, who remained stationary as he kept a malicious stare.

"Why?"

"W-why?" The Skirmisher repeated with a hiss, "Because I was ordered to. Because you are inferior."

Screaming out, Jadap stabbed the whole blade into the Kig-yar's shoulder, prompting a holler of pain that honestly hurt the Unggoy's head but he didn't show it in his veil of hatred.

"You may kill me, Unggoy but you will never forget what have happened here..." The Commando whispered out before yelling out towards Quor, "None of you will! A new power is rising and none of you will see it until...it is too-"

Jadap ripped the blade out with a violent yank, spraying the avian's blood over his chest and face before plunging it under the Commando's ribs. Gasping out the last word in the middle of his scream, the Skirmisher gargled welling blood from his throat and over the Ultra's arm. Jadap made sure the Commando was looking into his cross-pupiled eyes, "You will know a Unggoy killed you, Murderer." With a final twist, severing lungs and heart into a bloody mess, the Unggoy felt the dead weight of a near seven-foot-tall mercenary scum fall foward and roll into a heap.

Slowly following, Jadap misstepped and fell onto his knees, looking as if a ton of weight have fallen on him. Arms shaking and whimpers leaving his throat, the Ultra corrected himself in his bow to Quor's feet, "F-forgive me, Honorable Creche-commander. I've lost sight of my self-control and protocol. I have dishonored myself and my lance to you and the Gods. My life is at your disposal and I have no regrets in killing my lance's murderers."

Minor Labus 'Adantee

After a some, admitting time-wasting, units of mourning their commanding officer, Labus slowly laid Q'ai up on a bed of rock to let his broken body rest while keeping it from the grasp of the legged fish as he prayed a final rite of his clan. Jhao broke from his sober with Yeg, listening to the Kig-yar female on her venture with the Major and the disappearance of her Yamne'e guide.

Looking at Q'ai's body once last time, Labus bowed his head, "Let's get to the Artifact before something else happens. The Major doesn't want us to just drag around like birthing Ku'maksi." He said dully before standing up and checking on his spiker's ammunition. Good for a few skirmishes...to this conclusion, he ripped the bandolier off one of the fallen Jiralhanae untouched for now by the carnivorous fish and loaded it with spike grenades. "Agreed..." Jhao said with a nod and loaded another arrow into his bow, looking down to the female Nas with a careful look, "You will join us until this ill-gotten battle is over."

Having objection to his lance-brother's direction, Labus inhaled and tightened his muscles to ease his aching and fatigue as he looked at the smoke over the horizon of the city. "Let's move."

Suddenly a powerful cry ripped through the air as they made their journey. Pausing for a moment, Labus and Jhao looked at each other before making a slightly excited sprint.

Field Master Til 'Muramai

Continuing his monitoring of the Jiralhanae semi-prisoners in their diligent work on the rubble that once served as their command grounds. Pieces of Locusts and precious war-machines recovered, remnant of the sect's once-recovered power now dashed away again. A pure, unadulterated waste that burned painfully to the Field Master's crackling core.

From his newly-collected creche's reports, there was still few ghosts, a trio of Locusts, and a Wraith mortar tank left in this area. Perhaps more scattered in the city but they didn't have the time to look. No, they must move swift.

Narrowing his eyes abit when the Sangheili thought he saw something moving in the crater's rubble, something else caught his attention; one of his Yamne'e. Stepping back and letting the tired Insectoid land, reporting on the same fate as the rest of the sect. Wounded and scattered. He was thankful he found the soldiers he have so far and know that the creche he left behind will soon investigate on this site, the Reticent Zealot clenched his fists.

"Now you all return to me." He said with his mostly-unaltered voice, reaching up to his neck respirator. Twisting and working on knobs, feeling the crackling of faulty equipment. He couldn't call anyone in the threshold of the Artifact's interference but he could use his audio-enhancer to some degree. Just enough.

Inhaling deeply with meditative inward of his clawed hands, Til looked to the horizon and swooped his upper body like a sand prowler before splaying his tusked mandibles wide as an almighty trill of a roar rippled through the air like an warrior of old screaming to the Heavens, calling upon the Gods to give them strength, a sign, a boon to triumph over their foes.

His lungs rippled and burned, crackling his call but the audio-receptors did its intended duty, sending it out greater than he alone could. Bouncing off stone walls and windows around the crater. Kig-yar in their patrols halted in instinctive fear of hearing a Sangheili, of all things, releasing such a call. The Jiralhanae halted their work and stared in terrified awe of the Field Master, some even started to work faster in fear that they done something to anger him.

The shrill roar made it as far as four kilometers, rippling and continue for two more before dying away.

Wheezing out painfully, Til fell on a knee and clenched his chest as he breathed, slow and deep. Nearly a decade of Ascetic training for moments like this, he felt his lung burning throb and ease with each breath. Sadly he wasn't of an Adant blood, they were more capable of their mountain-piercing cries, but an Sangheili like himself still had the vocal power to get his message across.

"Now...I wait." He wheezed out, hoping for the best. A good distance away, the tomb of a fallen building shifted and bits fell as its prisoners heard one of their leaders' primal summons.

[CTWDaBearJew]

//**SITREP - 25281-25369-BM : 2/153@7/7**//
Asset(s): 2LT McRaven, Benjamin Ian - Platoon Leader, 2/153 ODST & CPT Sorelson, Mark Seamus - Company Commander, A/1/7 Marines
Location: Office Complex - Refuge City, Refuge Colony
Current Mission: Consolidate resources

Ian had remained quiet listening to the Captain's brief on what they had and where he need the platoon's ODST. It would be nice to get some fresh grub and showers; "Sounds good to me Sir, i'll send a small party to retrieve them." He looked around the room, "Once their back, I'll rotate them through showers and chow, make sure they get checked out by the medics you've got and make sure their gears good to go. Then we'll get them on the line." He paused and reached around to his back and pulled out the small zipped up field book that held his maps, "And while that's happening, if you wouldn't mind Sir going over some maps I have, see if we can get a better picture of what's going on?"

"Of course," Mark replied, taking hold of Ian's field book. "If you want, you can take a look at some maps we found tacked to a dry-erase board in one of the offices. We've tried to keep the map up to date with what the stragglers that drift in here, from civilians to marines to army troopers and other first responders can give us. So far, we've confirmed the canal that splits the city overflowed its banks and flooded the city. Most of the buildings near the canal, with what few remaining bridges there are and the buildings across the river have been leveled by the recent ordinance drop. I had a small Observation Post on the roof of this place, at least until the ordinance had been dropped. The roof's been unoccupied since, and we're not about to test the stairs any higher than the fourth floor, as you can imagine. With communications down, we haven't had contact with any other surviving units or anyone else for that matter," he explained taking a small pen he'd picked up from the nearby coffee table with his right arm. He'd do his best to mark the differences, the washed out zones to areas where the Murder-Fish had been and other points such as the grocery store for quick re-supply. He'd hand the field book, with the maps back to Ian. "When I was younger, I'd go hiking in the woods outside of Seattle on the Oceania Peninsula. I'd hike, camp, live off the land and to a degree even my kids managed to get in on the act. I'm used to roughing it, Lieutenant, and the fact we're without electricity and without communications doesn't bother me," 

Ian crouched down as the Captain pointed out the various locations and explained everything as best he could, nodding he accepted the book back and tucked it back into his pack, "We saw the same; your's is the first true unit we've had contact with; as for the OP up top; i've got a few monkeys in my outfit, they won't mind." Standing Ian rolled his shoulders, stiff under his armor; "We don't mind roughing it either. Also I was thinking," He added having the thought come to him during the map briefing, "I'll send out a few armed patrols to," He'd indicate directions and the such that each would take, "Make sure we have some eyes and ears outside the walls."

"You can have your pick of SWAT, Army, or Marines. I won't send out civilians, even if they volunteer in this mess. We have enough men to spare, either way. I'd assign you a vehicle or two, or three, but the only things on wheels we have are the shopping carts, and the wheelbarrow I had to sit in. You can find we liberated more than a few camping lanterns, which you may or may not need. I had claymores, grenades, and other surprises strung up along the perimeter where they hopefully aren't noticeable meaning that when you do head out on the patrols, be aware of them on your way back," Mark explained. "First, get your boys and girls fed and cleaned. I'm sure they'll appreciate it,"

"Roger, but i'll use my people no offense meant to the others but, this is what were trained for; we're also in a bit better shape to get in a scrap if need be." He added, "I'll check back in once the rest of the platoon is here." He went to an easy attention offered the Captain a half hearted salute and turned for the door, "Thank you again Captain."

"You're more than welcome," Mark replied returning the salute, seeing as how they weren't near any windows. "I'll be glad when I can move my leg again. I'm not used to being bed-ridden,"

*****

The trip back had been much easier, peaking around the final corner Dodd spotted the platoon; still holed up in the lobby of the building they'd arrived at. 'Good,' He muttered to himself as he leaned back, he reached down into his gear and retrieved a chem light. Cracking the thing and give it a good shake he leaned around the corner once more and waved it towards the platoon, "Thunder!"

"Flash!" Came the proper response to the challenge, waving his hand he signaled for his fire team to move out back towards the platoon. Arriving they disseminated the information about the building and the route to get their before moving out.

*****

Sergeant Slayers stood in the window, she'd relieved the two Marines to stand guard till the rest of the platoon arrived. Her SR99SC-2 leaned up against the wall next to her, she scanned their route with a pair of field glasses as she waited. The point man would be wearing a chem light and would toss it over the wall to signal their arrival.

As it was planned, it happened: a rarity in an ODSTs life when something happened the way it was planned. Waving over one of the Marines she jogged into the complex looking for Lieutenant McRaven. She found him with the Captain,

"Sirs." She said, "They're here; coming over the wall now."

"Sergeant Terrance, let your boys know we have a platoon of friendlies incoming," Mark said, nodding in Sergeant Terrance's direction before the NCO headed off down the halls to his men at the barricades. He listened to Sergeant Slayer's report, about McRaven's platoon climbing the outer walls. "You know you could have used the gate, but climbing a wall's a bit more dramatic, isn't it?" he chuckled softly. 

"If they want showers and chow Sir, they're gonna have to work for it." Ian replied with a grin, "Not to mention I'd rather any pesky peaking Covies see them climbing the wall and think that's the only way in rather than show them the front door."

"I understand, and I was agreeing with you. I'm of the same mind. I want my men to work for their chow," Mark replied. "Insurrectionists...Covenant, it doesn't change. I enlisted to fight the Insurrectionists, and fought them on three different worlds...well, two worlds and a moon. Now, I'm fighting the Covenant. That's one thing you'll find, that the bullies never change. They always want to prove they can rough up the neighborhood. I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm an old Marine. I'll probably die with my combat boots laced up, a grenade in one hand and the pin in my teeth," 

"Oorah!" He replied, a smile plastered on his face, "I hope I go out that easy, other wise i'm digging my own grave with my SOEIV." He moved towards the door, "I'll get them settled in and let you get some rest Sir."

"Oorah!" Spade replied, with a smile. "I almost volunteered for the ODST Corps twenty years ago, but someone needed to kick the recruits in the pants. I appreciate the honesty, and thanks. If it weren't for a piece of rebar, I'd be on my feet with the rest of you. Make your men comfortable. Dismissed, Lieutenant, and don't forget to get some rest yourself. We don't know how long it'll be before the Fleet sends EVAC dustoffs,"

"Sleeps a crutch Sir!" Ian responded as he opened the door, "But i'll see what I can do, in the mean time I'll cover for you so you can get back on your feet soon enough." He finished closing the door, he'd call for a sitrep from his platoon while also getting one from the Marines who'd established the security for the building; it was going to be a long night.

[Faclan]

(Since I'll be gone for five days letting you all know where my characters are who will have control over them all, hopefully it'll make sure people don't wait for me. Also doing it shorthand since I need to bed D: .)

SSA:
The Attaché at the Artifact site will go yez Master to Til and send out the high pitched calls to call SSA back, the Ultra and one other soldier will make it back shortly, but the two digging will not get there for awhile. (This means seven members off SSA are now dead or buried and unconscious, though more may die.) (Huka has control of the attaché, the other soldier, and the ultra when they all arrive.)
The Ultra will be making her way back to the Covenant zone after hearing the call, she will call out a last time for any of her swarm to respond but when she gets no responses she will head back. (Huka has control once she makes it back.)
The Soldier and engineer currently digging out the crushed other member, who will die once fully exhumed, and will then head back. But it will take them awhile to dig the other bug out and are still being watched by the ODSTs who could easily gun them down. (Morpheus has control over them, kill or let them fly away after the other dies in their arms up to you.)

Nas:
She will follow the Sangheili shes now with and fight as best as she can if they are attacked or help lead back with her sharper senses (Huka has control)

Cad:
Cad will continue to try and limp back to the Covenant zone with Pad and Goody's sniper file. They could easily just not be accosted but it could happen. But since I wont be here to have them defended I'll leave it up to Cabel if he wants to do something with them - though they could just be seen and left alone. (Cabel has control)

Eugine:
He'll feel bad that his hate for Kig-Yar made him not see the Majors sacrifice, and tell Garatus that he feels bad he didn't help his soul onto the Journey for it. Because of this he'll give Garatus his bruteshot back and keep walking with the rag tag group of Jiralhanae and Kig-Yar. (BetaW has control)

Kot:
He'l just keep simply moving with the back marker Jiralhanae, Garatus and Eugine - maybe look over his new weapons some but just keep quiet and stick with them. (BetaW has control.)

(Sorry if this was sudden but I wanted to make sure the story could keep moving and not wait just for me. Have fun all <3)

[Zero The Hidden]

Rhavik 'Dremdai
City of Refuge
Walking a Lonely Road

Rhavik gripped the rusty carbines, equipping two of the Jiralhanae firearms. He didn't like using this savage weaponry that the Brutes used nor did he enjoy killing them. However, one must drive through others in order to ensure the prize of survival. 

The Ultra didn't take anything more from the mangled corpses of his foes, leaving the crude blades and axes untouched. Those blades were theirs, and it would prove nothing but dishonor towards the scorn Sangheili if he were to pillage those. 

Now standing to his full height once more, ripped from his previous kneeling positions over the deceased Jiralhanae, Rhavik scoured the street once more - once again being met with the ripe absence of further life. The Ultra breathed in the damp air of the planet's dawn, then began once more his walk down the rigid city block. 

It wasn't far down until Rhavik stumbled upon a shattered wall, leaving shambles of brick and metals and other Human building materials in it's absence. The whole building atop of the wall groaned with frustration, creaking and scraping the luminous sky. It troubled the Ultra to be near such a disaster waiting to happen, though curiosity of the shattered wall drove him. 

Rhavik peered around the broken edge, careful not to accidentally shift another brick out of place. The state of the building was already in enough pieces.

The room was dark and small, and damp like the last two. The rubble from the shattered wall lay spread throughout the interior, though something caught Rhavik's eye. The shimmer of a masculine sleeve of blue was trapped, connecting to a larger form. It took the Ultra a moment before the body of a Sangheili minor was twisted into vision - hunched against the opposite end of the room. 

Rhavik stared for a moment before searching the dark room once more - then proceeding his cautious steps towards the minor. With each advancement, it grew darker and darker - threatening to plunge the building into an endless void. The steady breath of the un-moving Sangheili was the only sound that echoed the room, aside from the faint patter of the foreign rain outside.

As the Ultra veered up to the minor's side, placing himself into a kneeling position, he peered at the Warrior's face for a moment - identifying the minor to be unconscious. It didn't pop up into his head directly, though the name eventually wavered through his mind. The flinched body of Resku 'Verekee lay before Rhavik, one of the minors within his Creche, being 'specially' inserted to the single Warrior Lance within his formation. 

"Minor," Rhavik attempted with a low tone.

"Minor Resku 'Verekee?" The Ultra raised his voice enough to get the memo across, though the minor paid no reaction to this. 

Frustrated, the Ultra began to shake Resku to his senses, just as a glint of light shot across the room from the rising sun, peeping through the shambled hole in the wall - revealing the shimmering glance of the Warrior's squinted eyes as the light reached the translucent lenses. He was waking up. 

[Daenerys Targaryen]

Dani-047

Gold Two

City of Refuge

Hope

40,000 Feet in the Atmosphere

It had only taken a few minutes of turbulance before their Pelican stabalized over the city of refuge, tearing through a vapor-choked sky toward a drop point that was fast approaching. Inside the trooper bay stood a significant cargo, Spartans. 

Pre-Jump checks had ben weel underway for a while, but Dani couldn't help but continue running over the same tired list of supplies she knew she had strapped to her armor. Her ODST garb bathed her in black, leaving her a shadow inthe dim light of the pelican as she once again tapped at the TacPad imbedded in her right forearm plate. It was a tight squeeze, unlike MJOLNIR in a way where it seemed to prod and squeeze in certain areas, and seem loose in odd places as well. Form fitting armor was something she had grown acustomed too, a crutch she was leaving behind for this operation. 

Her visor glinted against the harsh light of her devices screen. Her TacPad, as well as the reports and links that whirred along her HUD would be useless as soon as they fell into the affect area of the EMP. This military deployment would have been a disasterif it wasn't for the fact that the Covies might have been as screwed over as their own forces. Intel was patchy, and she was trained to never assume, so the idea was tossed aside.

The intercom of the Pelican bay crackled, and the small area became filled with the voice of their pilot. It was almost time to drop. 

It only took moments for the bay to depressurize and when the Pelican began to open it's maw, Dani felt a familiar tension in her gut begin to rise. War. It was all she knew. War was her father, War was her mother, and war was why she existed; at least that is what she had been told to be true. With a life of violence such as her and her comrades, that truth seemed ever more evident. 

The last time she had performed a HALO jump in lack luster armor was during an operation targeting a terrorist cell. In a breif moment of relfection, the Spartan wondered if she would ever fight in the battles that she had been raised for, or if she would die in the service of her species as a whole. A thought that might chill others brought a sense of impatience to Dani. She would have her day, everyone did, though it would help to know when so she could die with her foot up some sword wielding slipt jaws-

The wind whipping outside caught her attention, and brought her focus back onto the task at hand. Her fingers, the only thing not covered in armor, gear, or heavy fabric, chilled at the sudden drop in temperature. Dani was pleased with the fact that her trauma packs included chemical heating gels and pads for the more nippy occasions. 

Silas signed Dani forward, and she moved up to Silas without hesitation. Her weapons, everything she needed was strapped down to her tightly, her heart raced for what was coming. 

The closer she came to the Pelican bay door, the more she felt the kick and bite of the wind. Her fellow Spartans would feel the chilled bite more than she would as they fell. Outside the bay doors, the dark night sky left anyone to wonder what was going on down in the city below. Dani grabbed Silas' hand as she moved toward the lip of the pelican bay. The extra brace of her team leader allowed her to move to a position from where she could perform an easier jump, grabbing a hand hold near thetorrent of wind outside.

The pilots voice counted down, and Dani felt the sickening sensation of falling permeate her bones. The Spartan twisted in the air to face the direction her HUD told her was down as it began to flicker and go dark, almost as dark as he thick black blanket of night she now plummeted into. 

[Remnant]

Resku Verekee
City of Refuge
Awakening

Thump...thump...thump...

That was the sound of Resku's heart beats from his two hearts. He was unconscious after a bombing lead him into the building via shock wave. As Resku slumbered, he could hear footsteps. He wanted to wake up, but his body forced him to sleep more. The footsteps got closer. Closer. Resku was mentally panicking by now. Why couldn't he wake up? Was this not of normal sleep? Oh, that's right. He was knocked unconscious. Of course this wasn't a normal sleep.

Th-thump...th-thump...th-thump...

Resku's heart rates were rising as the footsteps got closer. He was close to waking now, but he still couldn't. "Minor," Resku could hear someone say, in a low tone. Who was that? Resku was getting even closer to waking now. "Minor Resku 'Verekee?" Resku could hear more clearly now, with that unknown voice being raised. But wait, that was no unknown voice...in fact, it sounded familiar. Is that the Ultra? Resku began to think.

Resku still couldn't wake. But then, suddenly, he was being shaken. Resku's first eyelid opened, his translucent second eyelids now appearing. But it was dark, and his vision hadn't quite adapted to this sudden darkness. It would be at least a minute before he could finally see in this darkness. Just then, a glint of light shot into Resku's translucent lenses. He could see easily now, but he blinked his first eyelid in response to the sudden light. He was now squinting because of this sudden light.

Resku looked up to see Rhavik 'Dremdai, the Ultra. Resku stopped squinting, adapting to the light, being able to see even more clearly. Suddenly, Resku felt a sharp pain in his back. Right, he was slung across the room. What could he have expected? He should have expected pain. The pain began to subside. Resku suddenly had the burning sensation to vomit, though, he kept from doing it. "Excellency...what's happened? Why was I asleep?" Resku said, finally speaking.

Resku looked behind the Ultra to see where the light was coming from. And he saw a giant hole in the wall. "Oh. That's what happened." Resku said, turning his attention to the hole, then back to the Ultra. "Is the sun finally rising?" Resku said in slight joy, noticing the light that was still shot into his translucent second eyelids.

[Zero The Hidden]

Rhavik 'Dremdai
City of Refuge
Re-Formatting

"Is the sun finally rising?" The hopeful essence of Resku filled the air once more, questioning the sight that lay out before him. Rhavik looked at him for a moment before returning a simple nod, that was all that was needed under these circumstances. Then, with a final grunt of acknowledgement from Resku, the Ultra rose to his feet once more - his crested helmet once again almost touching the low Human designed ceiling. 

Rhavik outstretched his arm towards the minor, offering the usual helping-hand that he issued to all of his men. Resku looked up at him, squinting his eyes a bit and then adjusting them to the brightness that was cast through the gaping hole in the wall. Then, without hesitation of denying the Ultra's gesture, the minor grasped Rhavik's wrist and pulled himself up - only to be met with a stinging pain in his back as he arched his spine, that soon faded once more. 

"He would need to be careful..." Rhavik thought to himself, noticing the minor's injuries.

The minor attempted once more at laddering his way back up, this time successful at his self-enduring will. Now, however, there were more to be found. If Resku was here, he could not be the only one - just as he too had been not to far away from this site.

The minor shifted uneasily once more, though held his voice. Rhavik knew this eagerness all too well in his soldiers, each of them tended to ever-so-carefully, none disregarded by him - not even those of the Kig-Yar and Unggoy. If one is to result victoriously on the battle field, he must first gain the trust of his inferiors - as if to think of them as sons. Only then will they willingly follow you into battle, knowing they would die but to die for one who is worth dying for. 

Resku wanted to reunite with the others, as did Rhavik just the same. The Ultra acknowledged this, though did not make it apparent. With that, Rhavik turned and started for the door - Resku just behind him, silent as trained. That's when the splashing of water returned, just outside the wrecked building which contained the two. This time, however, it was a heavier tone. Not just a scattering of something small and feeble, though something bigger. Multiple. 

Rhavik approached the gaping hole in the wall with one of his two Jiralhanae carbines drawn, just as Resku equipped his curveblades. They were silent, the one key they needed if there was another Brute Scout-file. And now with company, Rhavik would have to be extra careful. However, the low voices that broke the gloomy planet's dawn were not Jiralhanae, not this time. They were Sangheili. 

"Just keep your eyes out, we're looking for those of our Brothers and Sisters who had survived." One voice said.

"Yes, sire." Another few voices replied in unison. 

Rhavik's mind raced, were these men his? The thought sub-sided, he would find out soon enough. The minor behind Rhavik stood wide eyed, his senses lashed out, though he held himself from darting to greet the recognizable voices. 

As Rhavik peered around the scratchy concrete corner, he was met with surprise. Seven Sangheili minors lead by a single Sangheili Major stood in the center of the flooded Human road. That's when the realization had hit Rhavik, this was a section of his Creche.

Now at ease, the Ultra replaced the weapon at his his side once more, Resku doing the same upon noticing - then, with a leaping breath, the two Sangheili stepped out into the drizzling rain of the rising day.

[TinCanHitman]

Roy-001

Gold Three 

City of Refuge 

Hope

Roy double checked his straps as well as his teammate's, making sure that nothing would go wrong. He wasn't about to let dropping from a pelican be what killed GOLD, especially after they finally were reunited. After he finished checking Dani he moved back, the sudden voice alerting him that they were approaching optimal jump altitude, and the target zone. He was quick, pulling down the balaclava and stuffing the cap into his satchel. He then pulled the respirator from his side and quickly attaching it to his face. He pressed the latch and it clicked shut with a hiss. Roy then pulled the goggles from around his neck and let them rest over his eyes.

Right as the goggle's slid on he heard the low pop and hiss as the cabin de-pressurized. It was time for the moment of truth. He looked around the room, his goggles being special tented to reduce outwards flare, but still allow him to see. He watched as his teammates sat in the dim red light, saying nothing to one another. Roy had nothing to say, and he assumed they didn't either. The light changed from dark red to green. It was time to jump...

The door slid open and the wind tore into the cabin, all three of the super soldiers bracing slightly at the sudden greedy pull. Roy was actually slightly slouched, being a little big for the pelican bay, but his height gave him an advantage as he used his shoulders to brace against the ceiling. He watched as Silas waved Dani forward, signaling she would jump first. Roy wished he could go first, partially because he wanted to get it over with, but also because he didn't want to send his team down without knowing a little about the ground. But Roy wasn't in command, and he trusted Silas' judgment.

Roy watched as Dani moved to the door. Silas counted her out and she suddenly was gone, ripped from the back of the pelican as it flew out past. It was Roy's turn. He was quick, letting Silas wave him up and give him one last quick check. Roy did the same, checking Silas quickly before giving him a slight nod. Roy then suddenly turned, his back to the bay as he listened to the count down. He let the feeling of the unknown behind him wash over as it cooled his mind. He felt his heart slow a bit as he calmed, then felt the icy spike of adrenaline as the the final number was spoke.

Roy's legs tensed and his stance lowered, before he exploded backwards from the bay, flinging himself out into the wind. The wind grabbed him and ripped him hard, but soon enough it was the same feeling as weightlessness. Roy stayed on his back, watching as the single low light of the pelican flew away. He waited for Silas to drop, before finally turning to face the ground. It was right as he did that that a sudden gust of wind flung him up and to the side, the weather throwing him around a bit as he fell. He tried to right himself on course, but it was hard to make out any thing until he was close.

Roy could make out small fires, and obvious signs of combat, as well as their target, the blue flare zone. As a matter of fact...he seemed to be plummeting right at it...

Roy ripped the cord hard and was suddenly given a bone-jarring tear as his weight was suddenly stopped. He watched as he glided towards the top of what seemed to be a building...a building with moving shapes. Roy didn't even think to swear, instead he drew his MA5C, slinging from his shoulder and holding it with one arm as he came down, not on top of the building but through a window. He crashed through it into a sort of cubicle area, where plenty of marines and ODST seemed to have set up shop.

If Roy's ability to asses situations had been slower than his ability to reflex fire, he may have just gunned down the group of marines in top this building. How ever this wasn't the case. He took in the dirty faces and grim stares and immediately dropped his weapon, arms raised, but never truly leaving a tense stance. 

"Friendly..."

[scottmcraven]

LANCE CORPORAL SCOTT MCRAVEN
Location: Observation Point Bravo Gamma Six, City of Refuge
OBJECTIVE: Assist with UNSC ground operations

"God damn it." Scott hissed out, trying to restart his scope, turning it off and on again but to no avail, "Hrfan, you got anything?" he said softly as he detached the scope from his rifle, just leaving the iron sights. The short distance dictated by the urban environment made bullet drop negligible. 


"Reaper actual to all channels. Is anyone there?" Hrfan said into the satellite radio they had set up in the back of the room. "Nothing Scott."


Scott looked around their small OP or Observation Post, it was a small office, overlooking an intersection. They had drawn the curtain shut over the window, but the light outside allowed them to see out while hampering visibility inside. Scott had moved the desk, using it to rest his rifle while he was aiming down the street, magazines for his rifle, lined up on the table next to him for easy access.

"You think we're being jammed?" Hrfan said softly to him.

"Doubt it, my optic isn't working and it seems like our squad comm is offline as well." Scott replied, "EMP by my estimates." Scott laid his rifle on the table and stood up, removing his helmet, setting it on the table as well. "Likely rendered our perimeter defense inoperable as well, how many grenades do you have?" Scott asked as he went through his pack.

"Three." Hrfan called back, tossing them to Scott, who deftly caught them. 

"Alright." Scott replied, 
stuffing grenades in his empty pouches and pulling a roll of duct tape off of his back pack. Despite all of humanities advancements, duct tape was still the greatest tool of all. He moved around the property, taping grenades to the doorframes and then tearing small strips of duct tapes, attaching the pins to the doors, that way if anyone, or anything tried to enter, they'd be met with by a face full of shrapnel.

"Don't try the doors." Scott said, not having to explain to Hrfan, "Did I miss anything?"

"Not particularly," Hrfan replied as Scott sat back down next to his rifle. 

Scott gazed down his rifle site, glancing to the identifier marks they had written on the wall, first blue car, 50 meters, broken store sign, 100 meters, going all the way out to 300 meters where the street turned onto another one. Scott focused in on the end of the street. Something was moving there. Had he had his optic, he could've truly seen whatever it was that was moving and eliminated it, but now he had to wait for it to get to the 150 meter mark, the downed telephone pole, before he could positively identify it. 

"Hrfan." Scott said, aiming down his sights, "Contact, one grunt patrol, 150 meters." 

"Check Check." Hrfan said, setting down the radio he had been trying to coax into work, "Fire when ready."

"Shot out." Scott said, right before he pulled the trigger. His suppressed rifle made a quiet snapping sound, the noise funneling through the house to disguise where it had originated from, the curtain waving a little bit as the bullet passed through it. 

"Hit, one EKIA, re-engage." Hrfan said simply, watching through a pair of binoculars. They had always been taught to prepare for when tech failed, especially in their longer term operations. 

"Shot out." Scott said softly, waiting a moment before firing again.

The grunts dove for the scant cover that was in the street, 3 of the remaining 6 taking cover behind a car, two trying to pull the one that had just been shot into cover and one of them just running down the street.

Scott's rifle snapped twice more, hitting the running grunt in the methane tank, and another grunt in the leg, almost shearing it off. The grunts cries for pain filling the street. Scott fired again, killing the other grunt that had been trying to help. A moment passed, the grunts cries getting weaker. Finally, one of the grunts tried to run out to help it, but Scott was able to dispose of it quickly. That left two grunts in cover. 

"Scott, wanna use the big gun?" Hrfan said as he went to his bag, pulling out several parts for the full sniper rifle, expertly putting it together.

"Yes, but go up two floors and down two rooms." Scott said, not taking his eyes off the grunts. Hrfan nodded and departed. 

A few moments later a resounding boom filled the street, and blue blood sprayed out from behind the car, quickly followed by a second boom with a similar result. A minute later, Hrfan reentered the room, and began breaking down the rifle.

"Should we break down?" Hrfan asked, stowing the rifle parts.

Scott nodded and stood up, grabbing his bag. "We'll take the fire escape,leave the trapped building for the bastards."

"Sounds like a plan." Hrfan replied, grabbing his pack as they made their way to the fire escape and down to street level, making sure to leave nothing behind. They scanned their surroundings wit their M7S sub-machineguns before moving on to the next building they had identified as a good point. 

 

[Remnant]

Resku 'Verekee
City of Refuge
Change of Heart

Resku walked over the the Warrior Lance as did Rhavik. "Here, take this, Resku." Rhavik said, lending Resku his second Jiralhanae Spiker, before going out of earshot to speak to the Major. Resku ditched his Plasma Rifle and replaced it with the Spiker, while also keeping the Needler. As Resku walked his way toward the other Minors, he picked up a Carbine laying on the ground. Although the weapon worked, the scope didn't. Resku supposed he could use this for when the EMP cuts off. Resku laid the weapon sideways on his lower back, near his waist, and below the Curveblades.

Resku then walked over to the other Minors, instantly recognizing Kerdek, Treske, and Krech. The other Minors he was not quite familiar with. "Resku! Thank the Gods, we thought you were dead!" Kerdek said in relief. "I'll be fine." Resku said. "Sire Rhavik found me within a building. I remember what happened as well. The Humans were dropping charges, and one's shockwave, thank the Gods it didn't kill me, slammed me through a window at the ground-floor, launched me across the room, and knocked me unconscious. Another charge blew a giant crater on the side of the building that Excellency and I just came out of." Resku said, his story now done.

"I cannot believe our weapons have shut down entirely. I have to resort to the Jiralhanae's weapons." Treske said in digust, holding up a Jiralhanae Spiker and Mauler. "I for one, am glad that my weapons still work. Though the Needler's flesh tracking abilities have been disabled." Krech said, explaining gratitude toward his Needlers. "No one's Grenades works though, and I am sure that no one wants to degrade more by resorting to the Jiralhanae's Grenades." Kerdek said.

Resku stepped up onto a small pile of rubble, and began to look down at the seven Minors as they gathered around, interested in what Resku had to say. "I will resort to their Grenades whether I like it or not. The Jiralhanae have betrayed us, and made us seem weak. We shouldn't care about their weapon designs; they will only help us. This is about survival, we shouldn't feel inferior for using this type of weaponry. As long as their weapons can be used against them, we WILL survive. After all, it's not the weapons themselves that are savage, but rather the wielders who make them savage. Now, tell me, are we, the noble and proud Sangheili, savage?" Resku spoke loud and clear, awaiting the crowd's answer, and hopefully the Ultra and Major heard.

[Zero The Hidden]

Rhavik 'Dremdai
City of Refuge
Speaking With Ked

The feeble notions of Resku was heard from the standing point of Rhavik and the Major, accompanied by a few lures of approval. Ked 'Ulamee had formed a low growl in the depth of his throat no doubt irritated by the minor's actions, though Rhavik firmly placed his hand on Ked's shoulder, noticing the Major's anger. 

"Let him be, they need all the moral they can get." Rhavik said, assuring the Major with his decision. 

"Yes, your Excellency." Ked responded, unhappy but willing to hold himself from lashing out at the young-ling. Ked was an excellent marksman, let alone Rhavik's good friend from the first days of enlistment. It had been a joyous sight upon receiving word of Ked's transfer into Rhavik's Creche. 

"Let us divert our motives away from Resku, though," Rhavik said with a returning stern look beneath his helmet. "What is your purpose of traveling in these streets, where is the rest of the formation?" The Ultra continued.

"Sire, we are only here for a mere simple reconnaissance task, volunteered - every last one of us in the Lance - to further search for our lost Brothers and Sisters." Ked claimed, eyes wide. He continued, "There is more of us, however. Another large portion of the Creche is back at a temporary camp. We've set it up swiftly once the large number was accumulated with hours of searching and scavenging - we often encountered various Jiralhanae files along the way, though there were no casualties. We fought as one, overwhelming the savages with our sheer power." The Major glanced down at the foreign carbine in his hands. "Then, immediately setting out to find any survivors who had happened to be out here. And from the looks of it, it seems that the Gods themselves are on our side." 

"An encampment, then?" Rhavik concluded. "Yes, sire. However, we've only gotten four out of the five Lances accounted for completely, now that we have regained Resku. It's Oros's Lance that has not appeared yet. We've had absolutely no contact with any of his personnel since the black out. " Ked responded, sounding worried as he brought up the topic. 

"Ah, I see..." Rhavik responded, not pleased with the Lance's absence. "Then that is our objective, leave none of our Brothers from the depths of this disgusting city. We will first, however, return to the encampment. We'll have to gather another Lance, then from there will we proceed our righteous search." Rhavik didn't like the idea of prolonging the scavenge, though he needed more foot-soldiers to accompany him, leaving the remaining two formations to tend to the set up. 

"Yes, your Excellency!" Ked finished, bowing quick before scurrying off to rejoin the Warrior Lance, barking out commands to the chattering minors as he walked. 

"Oros, what have you gotten yourself into?" Rhavik mumbled to himself, before regrouping with the rest of the Lance. 

[Spartan 999]

Field Master Sorsa 'Xirsasai
Near the main Covenant-controlled area

Sorsa blinked and lifted his head upon hearing the echo of a mighty Sangheili roar. That would be Til, which meant he was heading in the right direction. Judging by the sound, the origin was several hundred meters away at most. More walking, then. He fiddled slightly with the stolen DMR in his hands, mainly adjusting the scope slightly; he was somewhat rusty with using human weaponry, but it was better than nothing, especially with the night vision setting.

A few minutes passed during which he traipsed through the shadows, alleys, and bottom-most levels of buildings. He caught glimpses of passing Covenant warriors passing by for one reason or another at times, but he paid them no mind, instead focusing on finding his half-brother. Finally, he saw the other Zealot while looking through the broken windows of a building's second-story floor.

Deciding to make a dramatic entrance (because really, why not?), Sorsa grabbed a hold of the window frame and used it as a fulcrum to swing out into the air before neatly dropping to the ground. His knees bent and he rolled off the momentum, popping back up about seven meters behind Til. He made no effort at keeping quiet.

The Muram Swordsman turned to see a vaguely recognizable Sorsa; he had done away with most of his weapons and equipment, and had a carbine on a sling, the aforementioned DMR in his hands, a spiker and mauler on opposite legs, a standard Xirsas curveblade holstered on his chest, two shorter blades of Jiralhanae design sheathed on either side of his waist, and a large metal...shield?...on his back, hanging by way of a single strap going around his chest diagonally. Dried blood was also evident on Sorsa's armor, some of it deliberately painted on like traditional Xirsas war paint.

“Nice roar.” Sorsa was the first to speak. “Must have hurt the lungs, though. ”

Til chuckled hoarsely. “It was worth it.”

“Apologies for the late arrival. I got separated from the main force and had to lay low behind enemy lines for a while. Not to mention the whole deal with the Jiralhanae.”

“So I figured.” Til's eyes narrowed humorously as he looked over Sorsa again. “My my, you have gone native, haven't you?” He blinked and focused his gaze upon the shield. “And...what is that?”

“Since I have no energy shields, I found something else.” He swung the makeshift armor around to show. The front was Covenant metal, maybe from a Phantom or Wraith, and human metal had been attached to the inside to form an additional layer of protection. “Somewhat bulky, but I prefer being alive over being wounded. And it works surprisingly well with a blade or gun.

“Anyway, since I've been out of the loop for quite some time, would you mind filling me in on what's happened?”

[Huka]

Field Master Til 'Muramai
The Board's Restoration 

With the appearance of his dear brother of arms and bloodline, Til felt his own spirits rise from the depths they swam in and looked to the crater, the Jiralhanae and Kig-yar prisoners continued their work with hastened vigor.

His lungs and throat certainly did burn, but not as much as they would have rotations ago in the freshness of his internal scarring. Brushing at his thoracic cage as if expecting it to soothe his irritation, the Muram glanced back to his fellow Field Master before speaking in mutual Xirsas dialect to give privacy and the simple pleasure of doing so despite its roughness to his vocals, "Well, as you can see and no doubt dealt with yourself; the majority of the Jiralhanae Pack wanted to betray in some foolish notion of stealing the glory of recovering the Artifact themselves, utterly wasting our time and weakened our forces till now we are ragged but still formidable bands with stragglers no doubt still lost or dead in the city."

Inhaling deep and exhaled the same, he continued with a harshening voice as he took moments to breath and or hack a lung-burning cough, "The heretics brought a bomb...obviously, thankfully ending the Jiralhanae's main leadership. So I have these fools working what little dignity and honor they have left in getting the Artifact out before proper execution. Sent a couple runners to find the Field Marshal and find a way to hail the Fleet before the Humans come and make things more troublesome for us. Thus...I made sure to call upon our lost herd."

His good eye angled upwards abit as catching another aircraft trying to bring death upon them again, but his mandibles twitched a veiled pleasure. Over the city horizon, pockets of his lost Yanme'e appeared in twos and threes. The Field Master knew this accursed city have taken a toll on the insectiod, the constant rain affecting their ability to fly and the shockwave lessened the numbers but...the Adaptable Gambit lived on in the dozen that remained.

The large fliers buzzed and circled around their commander in long-lost excitement, back in proper unity and command despite the loses that sticked to the air. Standing up to his full height, the Zealot lifted a taloned hand, "Rest easy and out of this dreadful rain, you've earned your rest for now." He ordered and after some communication amongst themselves with the Ultra in the mix, they took cover in a nearby building with delighted chirps and screeches.

If a Sangheili could a smile, Til's exposed face made one with the ease of his lower mandibles and rubbing of his upper pair's tusks. "My eyes and ears have returned to me...good. We will need them soon." He mused to Sorsa, finally moving and crossed his arms thoughtfully while a hand stroke on his eased bottom fangs, actually missing his respirator's vibrating tubings in that regard.

"Now...we wait for the rest of the sect to arrive. For now, we oversee the Artifact's recovery and pray to the Gods that one of the runners find a way out of its influence." He finished, looking at the former Special Operator.

[MrKill]

COL. KILLINGER
Seventh Marines
Mild; possibly severe concussion

"Right," John replied to the ODST and looked towards the pelican, but it wasn't meant to be. The birds engines snapped off, the running lights disappeared and the pelican plummeted towards the dirt. The ground shook softly as the dropship hit. "But I figured that was going to happen." John muttered to himself under his breath. He had noticed the lamp post across the street get power as the bulb glowed faintly and died when the flood hit.

John noticed, in the dark sky, parachutes were deployed. Reinforcements? John wondered, still grasping at the wall while Sergeant Miller located a way out of this mess. Covenant troops were probably near, as were civilians and likely surviving UNSC personnel but they couldn't RV with any of them and firing a flare with just the four of them was, literally, ringing the dinner bell to a scouting party.

John watches as the parachutes disappeared behind the buildings, and was saddened to see others did not deploy in the night sky. At the same time, though, he wasn't depressed about it. He was lucky to spot the two coming down so there had to have been more... He hoped there was more, but judging by the distance they had disappeared, it was at least a kilometer away and John knew he wouldn't make it.

"Like I said, we just need to find a place to hold up."

[BetaWülf]

Unggoy Major Dakek

Dakek directed his riders into battle with deranged ferocity and cunning in equal shares. He had them zipping from side to side on their tricycles to distract the enemy and make it hard for them to get any clear shots. Dakek in all his mental instability was working his way closer to the enemy, followed by the rest of his group out of instinct to follow their leader. Dakek was surprised that the two Jiralhanae before him and his riders tried to flee as the rest of the Jiralhanae were losing to the rest of Ra'ab's force. One of them tripped and the other was gunned down.

It was rather unfortunate that the individual that had tripped didn't manage to escape before the Unggoy descended upon him, Dakek landing the first blow by striking him in the head with his metal pipe. The other Unggoy followed Dakek's example and started beating the Jiralhanae brutally, stabbing with spear and striking with clenched fists or rocks. After several minutes of this one could barely recognize that it used to be a Jiralhanae.

Sangheili Minor Talnay Wodamee(NPC)

Talnay was no friend to the savage Jiralhanae so when the fighting began he was more than happy to do his duty as a Warrior. He was rushed by a Jiralhanae Minor who he was happy to dispatch, he sidestepped its charge and brought his elbow down on the back of his head before delivering a swift kick to the beasts temple. He took the combat knife from the now dead Minor and charged head long into combat as was his way of fighting. He jumped up onto a row of vehicles and sprinted down them towards a trio of Jiralhanae with malicious intent, a fiery wrath had overtaken him for the sins of his enemies.

As he neared his enemies quickly through his sprint he swiftly threw the combat knife at one and then dropped into a slide on his back down the last car. His foot made contact with on foe knocking it to the ground and the other dropped with the thrown combat knife in its neck. The third Jiralhanae tried to swing its bruteshot like an axe at Talnay's chest, but he was a swift and fierce Sangheili and kicked the bruteshot wielders legs out from under him. Talnay ripped the combat knife out as the second Jiralhanae tried to jump on him and the third started to jump back up. Talnay spun, slicing the gut open of the second Jiralhanae and bringing the knife up and cutting the throat of the third.

He looked down at the second Jiralhanae who laid on his back holding his guts in his hands, Talnay was not cruel and did not let others suffer if he could help it and thus stabbed the Jiralhanae in the chest, ending his pained existence. Talnay threw his head back and is mandibles parted widely in a massive roar, his rage was his strength.

[deceit]

All in all, the battle had only lasted a little under 120 seconds. That was the unique nature of war; sometimes, they spent days of preparation for a mere 2 minutes worth of actual combat.

When it was finished, Ra'ab stood at the lead of his troops, looking at the Jiralhnae corpses; some beaten, some shot, some brutalized.

All dead.

And his own casualties? A Sangheili Minor and four Unggoy altogether. Ra'ab nodded his head. This was within acceptable parameters, considering the potential calamity they had avoided. The rush tactic was a risky strategy, but it seemed to have paid off. He turned to Talnay, "You fought exceptionally well." He commended, "I am honored that such a capable warrior chose to trust in my leadership, if only for a short time."

It was not simple flattery either. The Wodamee warrior had down three Jiralhanae single-handedly. It had been spectacular---dangerous and reckless, but spectacular. The fellow reminded him Khab Drem'ee, before his fatal demise at the hands of a human.

Suddenly, there was a very loud, demanding cry. The Cry of a Sangheili warrior; a zealot. It rang across the city.

"We do not have time to revel in this victory!" He looked at his troops, "The artifact is near, and so is our true leader! Move out!" He turned and shepparded the now 35 plus covenant minors and majors along towards the artifact.

~*~

Jib stared through his carbine at the back of Ra'ab's neck.

His rage boiled up inside of him as he remembered Ra'ab humiliating him, hitting him, holding him under the water...The fear and shame...His finger laced the trigger, tightening up, ready to squeeze...

But he also remembered all of the times the Sangheili had saved his life, to great personal distress. Finally, Jib moved his sights off of Ra'ab.

"Let us rejoin the play-leader." Jib said, mocking Ra'ab's role as a the temporary leader.

[Cabel]

[City of Refuge: Captain Mark “Spade” Seamus Sorelson: Seventh Marines: Alpha Company: With Survivors: Current Situation: In an abandoned Office Complex]

[Third Floor, Office Complex]

The marines that had been sitting near the window relaxing or chowing down on MREs had to quickly leap out of the way when the form crashed through the previously boarded up window on the Third floor of the complex where the survivors had taken refuge, but as the form had been able to clear his parachute the marines and ODSTs in that area numbering at least a dozen raised their weapons at the newly arrived guest.

“Friendly…” the newly arrived ODST said lowering his weapon.

“Get the Captain or Lieutenant McRaven,” one of the marines, a Corporal, ordered keeping his weapon raised. “What outfit are you with? Judging from that parachute, I doubt you’ve been on the ground this whole time,”

* * * * * *

[First Floor, Office Complex]

“Is the Captain available? I have to let him know of a new arrival…” the marine Private sent as a runner asked after finding a group of marines on the first floor.

“The Captain’s resting. You’ll need to find Lieutenant McRaven, Private,” Sergeant Terrance replied being one of the marines the Private had run into.

“Where can I find the Lieutenant then, Sergeant?” the Private asked.

“He’s probably on the Second Floor,” Sergeant Jim Terrance explained.

“Thanks, Sergeant,” the Private said before heading back up the stairs to the second floor.

* * * * * *

[Second Floor, Office Complex]

“Where can I find Lieutenant McRaven?” the Private sent as a runner asked having to catch his breath a little.

[SuperCommando]

Silas-009
Gold One
Refuge, Planet Hope
Freefall over the office complex

The SPARTAN team leader took a few running steps off the Pelican’s lowered ramp and dove headfirst into the night.

Plummeting at terminal velocity following friends and teammates Dani and Roy, Silas descended to Refuge in the form of a freefalling blur. The grizzled soldier kept his body ridged and tore through the dark clouds like an air-to-ground missile. His good right eye squinted tightly against the sheering force of the ice-cold high speed wind that stung the exposed areas of his face. Had he not been wearing his respirator mask, it would have been hard to breathe against its fury.

As he broke through the cloud cover, he could feel his borrowed Marine Corps fatigues begin to dampen with moisture. He fell alongside the drizzle of rain, outpacing individual droplets that appeared like so many faint, ghostly lines as he rushed headlong at the rapidly approaching city below. He forced his limbs to spread away from his body against the force of the wind, assuming a spread-eagle position to slow his rapid descent ever so slightly to lengthen his window for opening his chute.

Beneath him, the intricate web of buildings and roadways didn’t look any more appealing up close then they did from forty thousand feet. Now more than ever, evidence of the damage and suffering the war-torn city endured was all the more apparent. There was no light, no life. Only destruction, only death could be seen from his grand aerial view of the cityscape.

Refuge. What an ironic name.

The final phase of his High Altitude Low Opening insertion came upon him suddenly, as the closer he got to the ground the exponentially swifter it rose up to meet him. In the blink of an eye, skyscrapers that looked like tiny toy models abruptly swelled to the size of household appliances. Silas yanked his chute’s ripcord, unleashing the black rectangular canopy in a sharp whoosh and a hard jerk of instant deceleration.

He followed his teammates’ chutes underneath him and swooped through an alley between two buildings, narrowly avoiding scraping past a fire escape. As he just about reached the ground, he could feel his chute begin to snag behind him. With a quick surge of strength, he ripped free of his straps and dropped the final few feet to the pavement.

Silas splashed down in a puddle in the road, landing crouched with hands braced on the ground in front of him as water sprayed up around him from the fierce landing.

The soldier paused for a moment, absorbing the impact. He watched the ripples surrounding him cascade outwards and listened as the howl of his own velocity was abruptly silenced, replaced only by the faint splashes of breaking droplets.

Then, his head snapped up. He carefully stood, dragging his fingertips against the rough asphalt of the road beneath the cool water as his body straightened and rose. It was a fascinating feeling, that simple tactile sensation – something he was unaccustomed to after years of going out only in an armored battlesuit. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, then explosively outstretched his fingers and felt the liquid fly from his skin.

So... this was Refuge. This was the new battlefield.

Silas quickly dashed off the road and moved to a less exposed spot in the doorway of the nearest building, brandishing his M6D sidearm as he went. He was fairly sure he remembered seeing Dani touch down in the alley next to him, so he slid with his back against the wall and cautiously peaked around the corner into the alley. Upon finding his Spartan sister-in-arms, he rounded the corner and approached her.

“Status?” he asked, and then added “Where’s Gold Three?” He didn’t see Roy anywhere nearby.

[Daenerys Targaryen]

Dani-047

Gold Two

City of Refuge

Hope

Descent 

The ear peircing shreak  of wind that would ravage her teammates as she fell was dampened and made hollow by the stubborn helmet that encased her head. She had been the first to jump, and now the Spartan sailed through the inky black sky toward another ravaged colony. Refuge, a city named after a word that meant many things; saftey, hope, shelter. It meant none of these now. 

Eventually she reached clouds that she hadn't seen during the fall, but from her breifing expected to be there. Water instantly condensed on her visor, as well as the rest of her armor. By then her in-armor electronic suites had completely failed her, turning from blue fuzz to the same black she faced outside. The cold against her ungloved fingers snapped her out of one train of thought and deposited her in another one. 

Had she ever seen a true city? Not as far back as she could remember. Distant images, feelings really, always hid back in the corner of her mind.  Every time she felt them shift in her head, she remembered the cold titanium of a ships hangar, and the odd yet friendly smiles of those that had raised her. That was something that she knew, the memory that grounded her from whatever odd dreams that bothered her in her sleep, years ago.
The Spartan understood cities and the broken varieties were the ones that she understood best. Years of life, war, and training were the source of that knowledge though. 

Faint lights popped into her visor, and for a moment the Spartan had thought that her in-armor suites had started working again. The Spartans eyes zeroed in on sputtering flares and the faint flicker of fire that torched the dry insides of buildings. The buildings themselves zoomed up to meet her, but the teeth rattling jerk of a deployed parachuted cut the meeting short. The Spartan was now able to manuever through the spires of glass and metal that now erupted out of the black night around her with tugs on her cords. It was surreal, how queit and lonely the streets below appeared, her helmet muffled the rain that must have muffled whatever was brave enough to make a sound. 

Another bone wrenching jerk brought her focus toward the alleyway below her. Dani found herself strung up on a long flag pole. A quick yank on her release cord allowed her boots to finaly reunite with the ground, and finally the Spartan was able to get a good sense of her surroundings.

The alleyway had and overturned dumpster, with a small hand poking out from under it. A brute lay dead against the wall oposite of the trash reciptical, its head caved in from a chunk of masonry that must of fallen from the skyscraper that towered above them. She made a mental note of that, as she unstrapped her BR and jogged toward the nearest building. She would need to find her team mates before she did anything.

Fortunatley, she acomplished finding Silas easily enough, as he turned the corner of the building to her left to speak with her. "I'm in one peice, I can't say much for the building around us." Reported Dani, mechanically glancing over her shoulder toward the dead Brute and his would-be meal still crushed under the weight of the dumpster. "I didn't see Gold Three in the air. The alleyways are tight, it is possible he aimed for the street." She added, moving slowly past Silas to peer out onto the main street that cut through this section of the city. She couldn't make out much in the sheets of rain that pummeled the city, from what she could tell though, nothing but cars, garabage, water, and the unmistakable shapes of deceased organisms decorated it. "Maybe a building.." Her words were lost as she looked up toward the dark sky scrapeers that cut into the night. It was almost suffocating. 

[CTWDaBearJew]

//**SITREP - 25281-25369-BM : 2/153@7/7**//
Asset(s): 2LT McRaven, Benjamin Ian - Platoon Leader, 2/153 ODST 
Location: Office Complex - Refuge City, Refuge Colony
Current Mission: Begin Priorities of Work

Closing the door to the Captain's makeshift office, Ian looked around the level in front of him; it looked like a bomb had gone off. Well coincidentally two had, what debris had been scattered across the level had been pushed to the side into some semblance of clean to allow the Marines and others to set up crude defenses. A passing Marine paused in front of him, "Sir?"

"Yes," Ian said looking warily at the Marine, he spotted a name and then the man's rank on his collar. "Sergeant Hilpert?"

"I have a sitrep for the Captain."

"Give it to me, I'm taking over for the Captain while he rests." Ian said waving the Sergeant away from the door. "What have we got Sergeant?" He asked pulling his fieldbook out of his pack as he put his back up against the wall and slid down it, into a sitting position; he waved the Sergeant to do the same.

He sighed as he sat, sticking a leg out in front of him; "Thanks Sir; I bummed it up on the way in."

Chuckling, "Didn't we all."

The Marine shuffled some papers in his hand, "Alright Sir, we've locked down the first through four floors, fifth and sixth aren't secured the stairwell took a beating during that ordinance drop." He pulled up a piece of paper to the front, it was a sector sketch of the building. "The first floor is locked down heard, we have MG positions at the entrances, along with any antiarmor we have on hand. Which isn't much." He pointed to the exterior, "We have any likely entrances either wired with claymores or signal lines."

He paused to take a drink from his hydration bladder, he pointed to the second level as he secured the tube, "We have this level cleared and secured as well," Both looked up as the door closed and the Army Sergeant First Class Tipson, he looked over at Ian and the Sergeant. "Hilpert I'll take over go get some chow." Hilpert nodded, "Roger Sergeant," He said standing as he handed off the papers and standing. 

Tipson took his place next to Ian, "Nice of you to take over for the Captain, he's in bad shape; that leg is anyways."

"Just doing my job."

"How far'd Hilpert get Sir?"

"First level."

"Alright, i'll back up a little." He said, "We've got 131 bodies on location: 35 Marines, 24 ODST including yourself sir, 32 of my boys and girls, 5 street cops, 10 SWAT officers, 4 hydrant humpers, and 21 civilians." 

"We've got most of our boys and girls spread out over the four floors we have access to, we still don't have five and six. The civilians and first responders are mostly on this floor and the second, we've also set up an aid station on the third floor."

Ian nodded, "Alright, how are we looking for command here?"

"We'll you already met the Captain, and there's another butter bar about Sir, but frankly he's a pup fresh outta the gate. Commissioned a few weeks ago, other than that. I believe I'm as high as you get NCO wise, we have a couple Staff Sergeants and Sergeants. From the civilians we have one fire Captain, one SWAT Lieutenant and a Sergeant as well as two detectives."

Ian scribbled this down on a blank piece of paper in shorthand, "Alright then Top, grab your Lieutenant, the fire Captain, the SWAT Lieutenant and Sergeant as well as any squad leaders you have, I'll grab mine and we'll meet in ten minutes on the second floor."

"Roger Sir ten minutes."

*****

Ian caught the magazine tossed to him by Staff Sergeant Roma and placed in on the corner of the large piece of paper in which they'd drawn not only the building, by each level and its exterior courtyard; but what they knew of their surroundings outside the compounds walls. Around the table stood SFC Tipton, the Army Second Lieutenant, the assembled Squad leaders as well as the civilians Ian had requested. 

"For the moment Captain Sorelson is out due to his injuries, while he is i'll be covering for him." He looked around the table, looking at each face; only the Second Lieutenant looked like he didn't like the idea of Ian in charge. "I'll make this quick, my name is Ian McRaven, I'm an ODST Second Lieutenant with the 153rd ODST company."

"If things outside these four walls are any indication, this looks like it's gonna be home for a while. As such, were going to bolster our defenses here as best we can, I have a feeling this is going to get worse before its better." Ian pointed towards the maps and the drawings and began to lay out the changes to their current defenses, most importantly clearing the first and second floor for fighting positions only while establishing the third floor as the CP/aid station of their base. The civilians would be moved up to the fourth floor, and Ian's ODST would take up positions on the roof and spread out on the other floors as well. 

The police officers offered to take up position on the fourth floor to primarily keep the civilians out of everyone elses hair but also an extra line of defense; the Fire Captain offered his engine company up to assist their sole combat medic from the Army Garrison.

The briefing lasted longer than Ian would have liked but they covered more and had established a much clearer plan, so it had it's up sides. As each of the group broke away to set to their task, Ian took that chance to sit down and grab a bite to eat. His first break in the hours since they'd dropped in, more fell out of the sky.

*****

Ian shook hands with the boys father and gave his mother a gentle squeeze on her shoulder and a kind smile, "Don't worry I'll keep an eye on him." He said before standing and moving towards the last family, he'd had limited success so far. He'd been given the idea by one of the younger children who'd bugged the Marines at one of the MG positions about how he could help; so he decided to conscript the older of the kids as runners, allowing his ODST and the Captain's Marines and Soilders to focus on the defenses.

He crossed the short distance to the last family, he could see it in their eyes, they'd heard the conversation with the last and they didn't like the sound of it. He stood at a polite distance away, "Ma'am, Sir, do you have a moment?"

"We do, as a matter of fact. We overheard the discussion you had with the group over there about there son being a runner. My wife's not too thrilled about the idea of our son being used by the UNSC especially with the fighting still raging outside. We're safe for the moment, but what guarantees can we get from you and that Captain that we won't be on the move again? Do you have kids of your own? It's a parent's right to be concerned about their children, and you can't blame us for it. James may not think much of the consequences, since he's only thirteen, but we do. He's not a soldier like you are, no offense," Charles, the father of a thirteen year old male named James, said. 

Ian smiled and nodded, "I don't, not yet anyways. One day maybe." He replied, he clasped his helmet in front of him, "I don't blame you for being concerned, I would be as well. But James?" He said with a pausing looking at the teen, "He will be in this building only, we aren't going to use him to fight, that's where he comes in. If he can help by running information from myself to the marines, soldiers and other defenders and then back, it will allow myself to keep the most number of fighters on the walls as possible." He looked around the fourth floor which they'd converted into an ad hoc living space for the civilians to get them off the first two floors. "Unless the whole of the Covenant ground forces decides to come up this street at us, were not going anywhere; this is the best defensive position we can have so were gonna hold on to it."

"I'd rather James have something constructive to do than become depressed, or get in the way of your people. He's a good kid, despite his faults sometimes. What kid isn't?" Charles asked. "I do have one condition, and I have a feeling even if my wife isn't in agreement that once the fighting starts you'll make sure James and the other runners are safe behind the lines. There is one thing my wife and I agree on, that since the schools he and the other kids went to was destroyed or left abandoned that if he is to become a runner that he gets some school credit for it. We want what's best for him, and we want him to have a good education. He has a younger sister, Bethany, but we will draw the line when it comes to her being used as a runner. She's only five, and I doubt she fully understands what's going on except she's having to move around a lot. I'm not sure if the other parents will agree with me, but could you see to it that James and the others that are used as runners are given some credit towards their education? I won't assume it'll be that they'll have high GPAs, but their lives here have been uprooted. They won't finish the year here, if the Covenant are going to do what they've done to other planets. My wife and I do watch the news,"

Ian shrugged, "I can't make you any promises about that but I will see what I can do once were space side, that I promise." It was all he could do, tell them he would try, because that was all his authority really allowed him to do. "The minutes things get hot, i'll make sure they are back here with you safe."

"I thank you, Lieutenant," Charles said with a bit of a smile considering the circumstances. His wife, June, crossed over to the space they'd claimed after helping out the Army Corporal's designated as the complex's chief surgeon in some of the unused lounge and storage areas that had become an impromptu infirmary. She along with a few others, including the firefighters had pitched in volunteering to help out the exhausted combat medic. June, with about eight other civilians had at least had some training in first aid and other medicine. "Dare I ask why an ODST Lieutenant is here?" June asked. She and her husband discussed things briefly, which didn't exactly leave a thrilled look on her face, but overall she'd been more cooperative and understanding given their current state. "I had to discuss it with my wife,, and she surprised me. She's more receptive to the idea of our son being a runner," 

Ian simply smiled, "If at any time you feel that things have gotten to dangerous or that I am not keeping my word you can pull him back, no hard feelings, I will understand one hundred percent." Ian said offering his hand, "I'll keep him safe."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," June said. "I know James can watch out for himself, and I will hold it to him to know when enough is enough. We know you're doing all you can, and that your Captain has done all he can. I did take a look at his leg. I think he's going to lose it. if you can, let him know. When I last checked in, he was sleeping. I can't say it enough, but I thank you," 

She reached out and shook his hand, followed by her husband. 

"I'll let him know but I think it's best he rest, I've got things covered for now, thank you for all your help." He replied looking at both, "We'll get out of this. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get back to my men and fill a few more holes in our defenses."

"Of course. Watch out for yourself," Charles replied. "I have to explain to James what it is he'll be doing, and what's to be expected of him," 

"When he's ready send him down to the third floor, I'll be with the others there and we'll start work." Ian said before turning away, his helmet sliding back onto his head. That would make things just a little easier.

*****

“Where can I find Lieutenant McRaven?” the Private sent as a runner asked having to catch his breath a little.

Ian turned from where he was crouched against one of the walls, a set of field glasses hanging from his neck as he pointed out a more refined sector of fire. 

"Here." He said, handing the field glasses off to the Marine he moved towards the Private at first in a crouch, then standing as he moved further away from the window. "What do you need Private?"

"Uh Sir, we have an ODST who just dropped in through a window." The Private said unsure. 

At first Ian thought that the Private meant one of his had fallen off the roof, but that didn't make sense. "What do you mean dropped in through a window Private?" 

"Parachute, Sir."

"Parachute?"

"Yes Sir, came in right through one of the windows we'd boarded up." The Private replied finally catching his breath.

"Where?"

"Fourth floor, Sir."

"Lead the way."

*****

Coming onto the fourth floor Ian immediately spotted the ODST and window in question, not to mention the dozen of so ODST and Marines that had taken up a semi-circle around the newcomer weapons raised. Moving forward pushed his BR55HB on it's sling behind his back with one hand as he pulled of his helmet with the other as he closed, stepping into the ring of Marines and ODST.

He left a good amount of space between himself and the newcomer, his helmet in one hand, "Why don't you pop your can and have a chat." He said looking over the overly large ODSTs uniform. He'd seen some large, bulky ODST in his short time as one; but this person was definitely an outlier; much larger than any he'd ever seen. In the back of his mind, he knew why but he was too focused to notice that tid bit. "Name, rank, and unit." He said.

[Ultra Quor]

Ultra Quor Natrunai

Quor's strength combined with a good bit of luck made uncovering members of Jadap's lance all that much easier than they would have otherwise. They were all damaged to varying degrees, but they appeared to maintain their strength, for a rag tag group of lives so fragile they had an admirable resilience. Quor kept his distance as Jadap tended to his lance, scouting around for any other survivors, but more so to remain in his own state of semi-isolation. Live a life of war and you tend to grow distant naturally.

"VAKAK!"

He turns back to the group in time to catch the image of the Unggoy major rag doll down a pile of broken concrete and wood falling limp, as time passed without any movement from the figure as Jadap coddled it with a whimper, it was clear that he had been lost. Remaining somewhat back he was merely a spectator to the events between Jadap and the injured/pinned Skirmisher Commando would unfold.

"Because I was ordered to. Because you are inferior."

The Sangheili Ultra couldn't help but let out a low growl towards the scoundrel, ever defiant even in the faces of their impending deaths, the Kig-Yar were always his least favorite comrades, success in war was built around trust and honor, the Kig-Yar were all wild cards, they could befriend you one moment and try to stab you in the back the very next.. He wouldn't think of it for all of them, but in his experience, trust and honor were things the avian warriors sorely lacked.

And then it seemed to direct its tirade at him, even at this distance he couldn't help but be a lightning rod in the situation. "None of you will! A new power is rising and none of you will see it until...it is too- ack"

Mercilessly, Jadap extinguished the Kig-Yar as he drove the blade into the creature's chest and spun its innards before it could relinquish the final words from its maw as it slumped over in dead weight. His interest piqued, Quor wondered as to what the crazed Skirmisher could be referring to, or if it held any merit at all.. it wasn't uncommon for the Kig-Yar to ramble pointlessly as they died to get some form of last word in to leave a lasting impression.. But this felt genuine, and a bad feeling crept up Quor's spine as he held his composure, somehow managing to maintain his towering visage and blank expression as he pondered.

He looked down to the crunch of gravel at his feet as Jadap had turned to face Quor and fell into a miserable quivering bow at his feet.

"F-forgive me, Honorable Creche-commander. I've lost sight of my self-control and protocol. I have dishonored myself and my lance to you and the Gods. My life is at your disposal and I have no regrets in killing my lance's murderers."

For a few moments Quor made no movements and no sound, staring down coldly at the Unggoy, he could imagine the little one's life flashing before its eyes as it seemed to prepare for the end. The cloudy sky blanked a stark shadow across the Sangheili's face as he slightly tilted his head, visibly irked as the others looked on.

"Stand Jadap..." He made it a point to address the smaller Ultra by his name as well as making sure the whole lance can hear his words "... your groveling disgusts me." His retort was quick, harsh, and cold.

"I find it insulting that you'd think of me so shallow as to cut you down for doing your duty for your brothers, and our Covenant.." He was still harsh but there was more of a warmness as he continued lambasting Jadap.

"War isn't a place for petty things like protocol, protocol doesn't protect you from the grim eventuality of war. We have all lost others... You choose to do what you do because you bare the burden of your fallen brothers.. Just as I have done what I have to bare the burden of the hundreds... nay.. thousands of Sangheili, my brethren, who have fallen. I carry out their business so they need not worry about loose ends in the afterlife, just as you have just done..."

He pauses, showing a crack in his strong facade of composure with a large sigh, a peek at the tired soldier that hides behind it.

"... Still, you and I have a duty to those who have not yet crossed over. And it is our duty as leaders to ensure their survival... Look behind you.." He point's to the remainder of the Unggoy Ultra's lance and continues "...they look up to you not because you are weak, inadequate, or dishonorable... they look up to you because you are strong and they revere you, in a way, as their guidance. If I were to cut you down over such a fickle matter, I would doom them as well. I don't dabble in the business of breaking my allies."

Quor kneels down and is nearly face to face with the beleaguered Jadap, his eyes more intense than usual, almost as if he were peering into the little one's soul.

"We all have blood on our hands, and at times we all grapple with our sanity.. it is our place as soldiers to persevere for the greater good, not just my place as a Sangheili, but the place of all the races that make up our great Covenant. The Great Journey is only there for the strong who can overcome those weaknesses and make it... You can either sulk on your knees for your final moments before time itself whisks you away... Or show me your strength, your resolve, and lend it to those who follow you, so that you may carry them with you to it... Get off your knees, time is short... After you have secured more of it, then you can lament on the fallen. Until then, ensure the survival of those you have left. Lest you carry more unnecessary weight on your shoulders. You're an Ultra for a reason.. act like it."

Standing back to his full height he addresses the others directly.

"We leaving, there is nothing left for us here but death, we will rejoin the Sect, and after we recover the artifact we can leave this godsforsaken rock behind."

It was about that time that Til's roar cut through the city to reach their location, turning to face the origin, he now had a clear orientation.. reuniting with the Field Master and the sect was now just a simple matter of when, not if.



Hmph.

[TinCanHitman]

Roy-001 

Gold Three  

City of Refuge

Roy was tense, he could feel the hard stares from the marines and ODST around him, it put him on edge. Roy had never let some one point a gun at him for so long, his every nerve screamed at him to rip the nearest soldier's weapon from their hand then use them as a shield, but he resisted, because these were friendlies. He didn't blame them, a massive seven-foot eight inch marine ODST hybrid smashes through your window you don't just sit back and offer him a ration. Either way Roy was practically twitching with adrenalin, from the drop and from the tension in the room. He watched as a corporal ordered a private to get their LT, before turning to Roy and asking what outfit he was with. Roy stiffened a bit but looked at the man none the less.

"Spartan zero-zero-one, Gold team." he said to the man as he slowly dropped his arms to his side. He wanted to keep them raised but he knew that it wasn't for the best to keep these soldiers on edge. They waited a while longer before an ODST arrived, looking him over and stepping into the circle of soldiers that surrounded Roy. "Why don't you pop your can and have a chat.
" the man told him, not asked him. "Name, Rank, unit."

Roy slowly reached up to the back of his head, twisting the seal's valve and earning a hiss from his mask as it unclasped and opened, dropping into his other hand. His face was grizzled and stubble covered it, Roy grew hair fast and hadn't had time to shave recently. He looked at the man as he placed the mask in his bag, simultaneously pulling the grey cap from it as well, placing it on his head before finally answering. "Roy, zero-zero-one. Rank, Petty Officer. Unit...Gold Team." Roy said as he looked the man over. He hoped this man would be sympathetic, or at least accepting of SPARTANs, but he may be one of the many who hated them. Either way Roy had a job to do and he wasn't about to let any one stand in the way of it.

[SuperCommando]

Silas-009
Gold One
Refuge, Planet Hope
Approaching the office complex

Silas removed his respirator mask, letting it dangle on his chest like a big necklace and took a deep breath of the night air as he listened to Dani’s report. At least Roy should still be close by. The Spartan dressed in Marine gear accompanied his teammate to the mouth of the alley, where he kneeled down and followed her gaze up at the surrounding high-rise buildings.

The structures around them had all seen better days. There were little bits of rubble and debris everywhere, as if some massive explosion had ravaged the area. Back on the Iowa Silas remembered hearing crewmembers gossiping about the ground situation, including something about an ordnance drop. Apparently, judging from the state of destruction, that particular rumor seamed true. Now he hoped that some of the other, more dire rumors proved not to be so accurate.

As he continued to visually inspect the area, Silas had to twist his head around more than other people to take in the full picture due to his missing left eye. But regardless, his eyesight remained augmented beyond normal human levels. As he squinted through the rain, an out-of-place shape caught his attention. It was somewhat darker than its surroundings, appearing like a formless blob of some kind.

“Eyes up,” he announced to Dani, “Ten o’clock, third floor.”

He fished his monocular from one of the pouches on his belt and lifted it to his good eye, zeroing in on the object. Thankfully, his suspicions were confirmed. It was Roy’s parachute, dangling out a window of a six-story office complex down the road and across the main street. A mildly perplexed look crossed Silas’s face as he lowered the monocular. Whether deliberate or by accident, Roy getting his massive body perfectly through a target like that was one hell of a shot.

“We’re moving,” Silas declared, unslinging his MA5B assault rifle. “Cover our six.”

Hunched low and with weapon vigilantly raised, Silas led the way towords the office complex. He exited the alley and hugged the building line as they headed down the road. He was forced to stop and check down every upcoming alleyway as they passed by, but that was safer than cutting straight through the street and leaving themselves totally exposed.

It wasn’t long until the two Spartans found themselves directly across from the office complex now. Silas held up a fist, signaling to Dani to stop and keep watch while he used his monocular to check the building one more time.

“Movement confirmed in the windows,” he reported. “I see Gold Three. He’s blocking my view, but there are human scouts posted in other windows. We’ve found the friendly survivors.”

Only a few minutes after the drop, and Gold Team’s search was already complete. That was actually faster than he expected, guess homing in on that blue flare was the right call. Now that their first objective was met, it was time to make contact and see what they could do to help.

Silas didn’t want to spook the friendlies by advancing directly upon them unannounced, and if Roy hadn’t moved since entering the window then he must be occupied with the people inside. Silas quickly removed his backpack, dug out and activated a green chem light, and waved the luminous stick at the building. Odds were good that it would soon capture someone’s attention, especially if anyone was looking past Roy out the window.

[MorpheusDavol]

Cpl. Loken Gnash


Loken watched the swarm members or whats left of for that matter try to free their fallen comrades from the debris. It was a strange sight to him seeing the Covenant actually seem like they give a shit about their members but.. then again a alley was a alley. His eyes drifted to Viktor wondering what he wanted them to do, up till this point they were wanting to see where the bugs went but this was a dead end. They could risk following them further or simply put them out right here in a quick burst of gun fire and move out. Viktor faced seemed like he was thinking the same thing before he lifted his hand up then closed it which prompted each member of the nine man team to take aim and fire upon the Bugs. 


 There would have been little time to react, the mixed gun fire stopped after a few seconds to show the bugs had been killed by the rain of bullets. Viktor made a thoughtful sound from his throat then motioned for them to start moving forward using the typical advancement of a V like formation making it easier for them to get to cover if they needed to. He wanted to check out the corpses first maybe they held something of use.


STATUS: Moving forward, Bugs killed.
 

[HollowSaber]

: Corporal Jake Furrow :
: Task Force 77, Nova Squad :

: Condition :
Mobile

: Location :
Covenant Territory
Artifact Area

: Objective :
Observe the
Zone

: Tags :
HollowSaber
Huka
Spartan 999

The door knob twisted with ease compared to the many which the Trooper had twisted during his time on Hope, and it opened very quietly. Yet the air on the other side of the moveable wall was not as kind. It thrust into the room, creating an invisible vortex of mixing hot and cool air directly in front of the Trooper. It was an annoying feeling but the soldier had been through worse, much worse, and right now he was far too focused on other things than to worry about some wind causing his wet fatigues to stick to his legs. A minor disruption of mental thought was all it was, and it was all it would be. As the Trooper stepped back outside and closed the door behind him, the vortex vanished.

Keeping his pistol up high, Jake checked his right side, and then his left as he lowered his body down to a knee. Seeing that he was clear, the Trooper moved out of plain view and behind a dumpster. Then, he looked down. Blood was mixing with the low water by his feet and it was coming from nearby; how curious. His first instinct was to check it out but due to the circumstances, Jake hesitated. He was far too deep in Covenant territory to be checking every blood splatter on the floor or sound of gunfire, especially when he was in an alleyway which connected an empty building with one that had Covenant on top of it. Jake hadn’t confirmed if there were any inside of the building he was now leaning against, so that was a problem in its own class. Yet, the blood wasn’t human; it wasn’t red. It was a luminescent color. Almost like it was from an Elite’s.

“I’m going to be killed one of these days…” Jake followed the trail of reflective blood-water with his eyes to the other side of the dumpster, across the alley, and around a stack of what looked to be garbage. Getting there was easy, but doing it quietly made things annoying. The water didn’t help his conscience. Still, the Trooper turned his body around the dumpster and began to move.

Very, very slowly, Jake moved his feet one in front of the other. His body hovered against the side of the dumpster, not touching it but not straying from its form as he forced himself to remain in the shadows. When he curved around the corner, he remained pinned to the dumpster’s body until he reached the building once more. There, he followed the building along, creeping very slowly beneath the shattered windows. He could hear scowling on the other side of the wall and from within the room beyond. It was unsettling, but Jake kept moving. The alien noises and voices continued to bark and chirp at one another as he moved, never pausing or shushing. Now was probably one of the few times he was happy to hear some noise that wasn’t human, and it actually put him at ease.

Then as he lined himself up with the pile of garbage, or just piled up stuff in general, Jake slowed himself further and lowered his pistol as to not stick the thing out into the middle of the alley. Yet, he kept himself ready to raise it again. The Trooper waited for a moment, not cresting the corner so he could give himself some time to prepare. He wanted to see and he wanted to know, but he had to be patient. If he simply jumped out or stepped forward and there were Brutes looking at him; he was screwed. Jake had to take things slowly, quietly, precisely. Like a surgeon, he needed to thread his way through the Covenant lines to get his information and get into position. So, rather than break the corner hastily, Jake carefully leaned forward.

Using the building as support, the Trooper lurched and moved just enough of his body so his head could poke around the corner. What he saw was gut wrenching, but enlightening. There was a total of ten bodies; six Brutes and four Elites. One Elite was beaten and his skull shattered open. It also seemed like the Brutes were hungry; the Elite’s flesh was bitten into, its limbs separated, and its torso was slightly cut open. However; the Brutes were no better. Deep wounds caused by plasma rifles and energy swords diced the ape bodies, splicing their bodies into massive chunks. The other Elites were hit with large metal pieces, spikes, and seemed to have been cut by the brutish knives the large creatures sometimes attached to their weapons. It was a horrifying sight and Jake couldn’t exactly tell who had won.

Well, that was until the air suddenly split with a massive roar. The thundering noise slammed into the alleyway, causing Jake to wince slightly from its close proximity and power. It was frightening and the man was forced to shut his eyes for a few seconds. That noise was a battle cry of sorts. It was strong, it was vengeful, and most of all; it was close. Extremely close. Probably right around the corner close. Jake wasn’t that stupid though, so he decided he had seen enough. Slowly, the Trooper made his way back to the dumpster and circled back around it. One thing was for certain; the Elites and the Brutes weren’t on friendly terms at the moment. With that in mind, Jake would have to be more alert because his enemies would be as well.

Reaching the safe side of the dumpster again, Jake knelt down and checked the silencer on his pistol; he tightened it, wiggled it to ensure it was on correctly, and then looked down his iron sights. Good to go. Looking up, Jake noticed there was a door, but then he looked even further up; the windows above the dumpster were broken. The Covenant inside were most likely patrolling the floor and were on the look out for anything strange. Opening a door would be outright stupid. No matter how low Jake could get to the floor, the aliens would hear the wind, they would feel a low breeze compared to the one caused by the windows, and they would see the object move. It would be pointless to enter through there. So, that left Jake with one choice.

The Trooper pulled himself carefully up onto the dumpster and lay down directly on top of it as he began inching his way over to the window. There, he tilted his head, closed his left eye, and lifted his head just enough so his right could see inside. It was dark for the most part and took his visual organ a moment to adjust but he could eventually see inside. Not to his surprise, there were three Elites pacing near the other side. Grunts lingered all over the place and a few Jackals were arguing over various things; food, each other… Though even with their numbers, there wasn’t much movement. It was as if they were just waiting for something to happen or someone to shout an order. Maybe it was related to that outcry?

Whatever the reason, Jake would find out soon. Looking to his right, the ODST caught sight of a door in the opposing corner of the room compared to the Elites. After a moment of staring, he was able to make out the friendly symbol of stairs which led up the floors; score. The Trooper moved up to the wall and slowly inched to the edge of the dumpster. Then, he clutched the edge of the wall and squeezed it tightly, digging his fingers into the moist cement. It was slippery but his gloves helped him get enough of a grip to support him as he pulled and tested it. When he was ready, the ODST slipped off the edge of the dumpster and dangled five feet off the ground. It was far to high to jump to because of his height and current strength, as well as because of his equipment, so dangling was the best thing he could do.

With a firm and steady hold, Jake moved along the side of the building to his right as if he was moving sideways on a set of monkeybars. Left under right, right down and over left, all to ensure that his hands wouldn’t pop up in the windows. His arms strained, his forearms burned, and he could feel his shoulder pull a little. It took time but it was time well spent. Patiently, he crossed the door an Elite was rumbling by, moved over a set of trash cans with the carcass of a brute laying against them, and moved by two grumbling Grunts on the other side of the wall. When he finally reached the location he had eyeballed, Jake’s arms were on fire. He could barely hold onto the building and his grip was slipping. His fingers were so clutched against the man made stone wall that he doubted he would be able to lift himself. So he relaxed.

Laying his body against the wall, the tired soldier let his arms stretch themselves, relieving them of some of their fatigue. Yet he only got two seconds of it before he put his boots against the wall. Pulling and pushing at the same time, Jake heaved his body up and over the wall, forcing himself into the pitch black room on the other side. Almost immediately, the Trooper realized his mistake.

In the time it took him to move and relax, one of the Jackals had moved from the other room around the small wall which blocked the door from view. The bastard moved right into the area the ODST was entering, and as Jake came through; it spotted the moving human. Upon seeing the threat, the alien jerked into action. Jake cursed beneath his breath as he landed on the floor and he immediately rolled and sprang forward. Before the Jackal could draw its pistol, Jake’s hands wrapped around the alien’s neck and began to squeeze with all of his might. The Jackal opened its mouth and attempted to cry out for help, but the hold the Trooper had was too much. The human soldier felt the Jackal’s throat begin to collapse as he added pressure. Its eyes rolled back and the creature’s mouth was opened up wide as it tried to suck air through the slowly closing pipe. Seeing its life flash before its eyes, the alien began to put up a fight.

Claws and talons began to scratch at Jake’s body, cutting his arms and scratching his torso as the Jackal tried everything to break free. The Trooper winced at the pain, but that only made him more alert to what he was doing. Using the tips of his thumbs, Jake pushed into the Jackal’s throat, breaking the cartilage and causing it to collapse underneath the pressure. Low, soft popping noises joined the scratching sounds as the bird’s windpipe was broken in multiple places. It wiggled and tried to back away, but Jake only pulled the thing closer. He dealt with the scratching, but he would not deal with Elites. Not now.

Then, it all stopped.

The Jackal let out one more gasp and flailed at the soldier one last time, but then it fell limp in his wounded hands. A long, quiet sigh escaped the Jackal’s broken throat as Jake loosened his hold. Finally, after almost twenty seconds of standing and wrestling with the thing; it was dead. Releasing a sigh of his own, the man pulled the bird against his body and hefted it over his shoulder. He eyed the corner of the wall in front of him which led to where the other Covenant forces were and backed away slowly towards the door. When he felt the Jackal’s body tap against it, the Trooper carefully put the body down and drew his pistol. Keeping his eyes on the corner, Jake reached behind him and grabbed the door knob. With a slow, gentle twist, he eased the latch out of its holster and pulled the door open a few inches.

That’s when the ODST took his eyes off the corner just so he could see inside. As labeled by the sign just over his left shoulder, the door revealed a staircase which led both up to the next floor and down below into the basement area. Jake only needed to go up, so that’s where he looked most. Before he entered, he checked the corner once more. Again, he eyed that corner as he pulled the door open just enough for him to fit. Then, he left the door slightly ajar so he could pull the Jackal in with him. With both him and the dead alien inside, Jake pulled the stairwell door closed again. His heart raced, his breath was hot, and his mind was getting tired of this stuff. Next mission, he probably would take a break and stay with the others.

“Who am I kidding…” Jake thought to himself as he hefted the light alien-bird over his shoulder. With his pistol raised in his other hand, the Trooper moved slowly up the stairwell, keeping his back to the wall so he could see around the corners more easily.

If Jake stayed with friendlies, he knew full well he would go insane from boredom. The thrill of moving alone, creeping through enemy lines, and leaving a silent blood trail was far too exhilarating for him to simply sit back and look at everything through a scope. He was a sniper and it was his duty to pick things off from a distance, but he enjoyed chasing his targets and clawing his way to them rather than being carried to a spot where he could pick them off. It was easy to follow orders and let the superiors do the thinking. It was easy to drop in and follow the line while taking shots at the exposed enemy targets. Yet, it was more satisfying to catch an Elite off guard when it was sleeping. It was more soothing to use a knife to cut through a small group of sleeping grunts, cutting their throats one by one without waking the next. It was more rewarding to watch the life drain from a Jackal’s eyes as one’s hands squeezed its neck as it tried oh so desperately to break free.

“I hope you’re proud of me, Father…” Jake grimaced as he clutched the handle of his pistol. No, he had to focus. He was to close now to regret things. He was in to deep to stop. This was his life now.

Placing the Jackal down beside the door, Jake checked the number on it to ensure he had counted correctly; 20. Good enough. Gripping the handle, Jake twisted and slowly pulled the door open, revealing the inside of yet another…. freaking… office… Why was every building an office building? What was so amazing about cubicles? Why did everyone need a cubicle? Can’t people just be happy with desks or just not have an office floor? What happened to elevated restaurants or hotels? What about just an open floor?

“Damn it.” Jake grumbled as he began to drag the Jackal into the room. Using one hand to pull on the Jackal and the other to ease the door closed, the Trooper entered the room as quietly as possible. After that, well, Jake simply pulled the Jackal to a cubicle and pushed it under the desk. With that done, he navigated the office area and over to the wall of shattered windows.

Keeping himself one cubicle lane away from the windows so he wouldn’t be spotted from the outside area, Jake moved across the room to a corner office and stepped through the shattered window frame to enter the room. With his back against the concrete inside of the building, Jake lowered himself into a crouch and peered out into the area below. There, his prize awaited him just barely out of reach, and underneath what looked to be some other stuff that was now in the way because of the UNSC airstrike; the artifact. He was upset that he could not actually see the thing now, but Jake was content with his view. From where he was, Jake could see the Covenant forces moving throughout the area, securing it, remobilizing, and digging the Artifact out from its hole. As he looked it all over, he could see that the Covenant forces were composed of mainly Elite leaders and their underlings but very few Brutes. For Jake, that supported his earlier thought that there was some tension going on. The fact that Brutes were doing the heavy lifting solidified it as well.

And yet, Jake was still unsettled. During his scanning of the area, Jake’s attention was snagged by a new face who vaulted into the area; a strangely armored Elite holding… a DMR? Strange, Jake thought such things were prohibited by the Covenant. Maybe when desperate, even the Elites did whatever they could to survive. That was a good sign in the case of someone who wanted peace between the two species. Yet, it was not a good sign for those who were fighting as it meant that the Elite was still armed.

What interested Jake even more was the Elite’s armor. It was much different than the standard Elite gear, and as the alien approached another, Jake was even more surprised. They both looked far more different than anything Jake had ever seen before. Were they a different rank of Elite? Were they maybe on an entirely different level? Jake gnawed on his bottom lip at he looked at the two Elites speak with each other, but then he slid back into the room a little. His answers would come later. For now, he would have to stick to observing and scouting the zone. It wouldn’t exactly be smart to start shooting when the area was infested with Covenant.

Far away from the window, Jake pulled his pack off and popped it open, retrieving the notebook and a pencil he kept stashed deep inside to keep them from being affected by the weather conditions. Then he removed his gloves to keep the paper from getting wet. Setting everything down, Jake holstered his pistol, set his sniper rifle down to his right on its bipod, and lay a cloth over the weapon to keep it from reflecting any kind of light. When he was set, Jake grabbed his note-taking tools and lay down on his stomach. Keeping close to the wall and in the shadows as much as possible, Jake began observing the artifact zone just as he had before.

Fight for those you never see...

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Faclan]

SSA-012 - Yanme'e Swarm
Resting temporarily and permanently...losing some but gaining some

The Soldier and Engineer dug and dug as quickly as they could as the weak twitches of the visible hand got further and further apart and the quiet chirps of reply had since stopped. But it still took them a few minutes as they had to be careful not to disturb the rubble so that more would fall down, and despair was stilling to edge into their minds as the twitching stopped. But finally eyes and a head were visible as the two bugs slowly pulled their halfway crushed comrade from the remains of the building. The eyes were dimming fast however and the Soldier and Engineer could only offer clicking comforts and make sure that their fellow Soldier passed into the beyond around comrades and the small amount of comfort they could give in the bombed city. Their simple ceremony was short lived however as several Humans opened fire on them and the living Soldier and Engineer were swiftly cut down as well - at least the other soldier wouldn't face the unknown alone. All three bugs collapsed in a bloody heap in the ruined remains. The looting of the bodies would turn up broken plasma pistols from all of them, broken plasma grenades for the two soldiers, and a bandolier full of Covenant tools as well as a what appeared to be a small datapad from the Engineer, though it was fryed.

The Ultra needed no encouragement to take a break...all of them did to try and be of some use and not a burden of course, but also to have some time to try to come to grips with the fact that the three at the artifact site may be the last members of their swarm alive. All of them were experienced enough to expect causalities during missions, especially ones that went as badly at this one...but losing more than half would take awhile. The three nodded and bowed to Master Til as they confirmed the order and said they would try to recover as quick as they could. They left as the other Zealot approached Master Til, slowly walking through the rain toward the indicated building, all of their heads low from the burden of the possible lost. Thankfully all of them had their spirits raised when chirps and clicks filled the night sky and were soon directed down to them. Two more of the swarm had made it, another Soldier and a Engineer had heard the calls and made it. The both seemed to have been showered in rubble from the dirt and small cuts on them, but they were alive and had made it. There were brief gripping of arms before the five bugs resumed their trek to the building, the first floor seemed to be occupied, so mustering the last bits of their strength they flew up until they found a empty floor and entered through a shattered window. It didn't take long for them all to find gripping points on the ceiling, curl up into a chitinous ball, and all of them fall asleep. It would be a deep sleep from all the exertion, and as far as they were all aware they were alone on this floor and had fellow Covenant around to watch for intruders.

(Of the original twelve(nine Soldiers and three Engineers) five(three Soldiers, Ultra, one Engineer) are currently at the Covenant site, three confirmed dead(two Soldiers and one Engineer), and five more buried/trapped still(four Soldiers and one Engineer). If anyone, Human or Covie, would like to find a trapped and likely injured Space Bug let me know )
(Not 100% sure where you are in all this Saber but the sleeping disheveled bugs MAY be near you....maybe.)


(NPC) Nas - Kig-Yar Markswoman
Nearly back!? Thank the Gods!

Nodding to each and every thing the two Sangheili were saying Nas was just glad that they seemed to believe her about working for the Major and as such wouldn't be eager to drown her or feed her to the carnivorous fish. Perhaps she would maybe get out of this after all. She watched them check weapons and snapped her head around in that Kig-Yar way as she tried to find a weapon for herself. She eventually settled on a Needler that she could only guess at who used to own before they were killed either by the Sangheili or the Jiralhanae traitors, but it didn't matter now as long as she had some kind of firearm. Without checking to see if the Sangheili knew who it belonged too, and would maybe become enraged that she took one of their dead comrades equipment without a second thought, she got to her feet and sheathed her knife as she stocked up on as much ammo as she could.

She looked up as the roar reached them...it sounded Sangheili and that was likely a good sign. Nodding at the other two she started to run after them, her Kig-Yar speed letting her just keep up with the Sangheili's longer strides as she hoped that they could soon make it back to the artifact so she could rest...though thoughts of the Humans and wondering what they had been doing all this time nibbled at the edges of her mind as she ran.


Cad - Kig-Yar Major
(Saved for Cabels post )


Eugenius - Jiralhanae Advisor and Mystic
A sharp lesson and trying to learn.

Looking back as Garatus broke off from the march Eugine narrowd his eyes at the Kig-Yar that was trying to follow them, and expected Garatus to tell him to shove off for looting the Majors body. But then Garatus walked right past the Kig-Yar as it stumbled with the weight of the Jiralhanae equipment and moved to the Majors body to give him a respectful sendoff. Eugine froze as he watched this...that was his duty to the pack and he didn't even try to help the Major. By the time he had worked up the state of mind to go over and help his nephew had already finished and was on his way back to them. Engine greeted him with a grim expression as the Kig-Yar stood a little ways off trying not to get in the way.

"Thank you Nephew," he started before holding out Garatus's Brute Shot handle first to him. "That showed me that my disdain for the Kig-Yar blinded me to the sacrifice of one of our own brave troops. I should have helped you make sure he was on course for the Journey. You didn't loose sight of your duty to your soldiers like I did, you will make a great Chieftain when the time comes." By now the grim expression had turned back into a smile as Eugenius took back his pistol and let his Nephew have his bigger weapon back. "Onward then, we have a pack to catch and a Artifact to secure."

Turning to face the Kig-Yar, who seemed to be having trouble with the Impaler, Eugine managed to keep his smile as he gestured for the Kig-Yar to come rather than stand at the edge of the party.


(NPC) Kot - Kig-Yar Scavenger
Making some new friends.

Keeping his distance as the large apes talked back and fourth Kot wasn't sure if he was glad they were speaking Sangheili so he could understand them. It was good to know they weren't talking about cutting his throat and eating him but all this talk of duty and apparent hate for his race mostly went over his head or made him worried. So after they stopped talking and the Captain took the larger weapon - but he was then directed to come over toward them. With very little other options Kot managed to get the Jiralhanae combat knife, more of a machete to the Kig-Yar, to attach to the magnetic grip on his back as he trotted over with the heavy pistol - not sure what to expect.

"You'll want to hold it like this, it has a lot of kick behind it." The silver one started as he moved Kots hands around to hold the handle and just under the barrel behind the large blade. Kot had assumed that the entirety of the blade was sharpened but he was pleased to see that the back was blunt so he would be able to grip there without the danger of losing a finger. The Jiralhanae then showed him where the magazine release was, handing him two spare canisters as well, and the two distinct firing modes of the pistol.

The Kig-Yar was pretty impressed in the weapon, and the feeling would likely grow when he actually got chance to use it against the enemy, what ever species they were. The elder then quickly introduced himself as Eugenius, the Captain as his nephew Garatus, and the shortest as Tantarus one of their younger cousins. If they were supposed to have some kind of family resemblance Kot couldn't see it, but he just nodded as they started to walk off again.

"Kot Sirs, I'll do my best to serve until I can make it back to my file...if they still live." He stopped himself before he said anything about his former files allegiance - none of them needed even more troubles packed onto the day. He held his new heavy pistol in a carry ready stance as he moved off with them.

(*cough* Beps file (if they live) *cough*)

[CTWDaBearJew]

//**SITREP - 25281-25369-BM : 2/153@7/7**//
Asset(s): 2LT McRaven, Benjamin Ian - Platoon Leader, 2/153 ODST
Location: Office Complex - Refuge City, Refuge Colony
Current Mission: Take Back the City

"Roy, zero-zero-one. Rank, Petty Officer. Unit...Gold Team."

It clicked. This man wasn't an ODST, he wasn't even... No, he was. Or was he? Ian didn't know whether the stories about the SPARTAN's being nothing more than machines were true, or if the man standing before him was a human. Just not like Ian or the men and women surrounding him. Giving a slight shake of his head, Ian pushed it all to the back of his mind. It didn't matter. 

What did matter was the fact that standing before him was a sole SPARTAN-II, a weapon in the truest form. He knew all of this from ONI Section II and all of their propaganda material that had been pouring onto the net lately; something that frustrated a number of his men, as they were no longer the tip of the spear. But Ian didn't hold the animosity towards the SPARTAN's like many did.

"Welcome to Refuge City, Petty Officer." Ian said before looking over his shoulder, "Stand down everyone, stand down. He's one of ours." He turned back to the man before him, "You couldn't have chosen a better time to drop in. We're scattered, broken and lost." He motioned for the SPARTAN to follow him, he would brief 001 on what they knew and their current location; then he'd see what new information the SPARTAN had, if any at all. But one thing he did want to know, was how lucky had they gotten. 

First though, the Captain would want to know that Christmas had come early for 2nd Platoon and Alpha Company. Using his hip he pushed open the fire door into the stairwell to head towards the ad hoc infirmary they'd established on the fourth floor, "How lucky did we get?" He asked as he began to ascend the steps, two at a time. "How many of you did the fleet drop."

* * * * *

As the Lieutenant and Petty Officer headed towards the stairs Sergeant Slayers looked out the window that the ODST had come crashing through before shaking her head in disgust. "Freak." She said as she looked around at the still malingering ODST, Marines, and Army Soldiers. "Oy!" She said her voice raised, "Stop standing around and get back to work." She pointed at three of the troops available, "You, you and you. Get s'more of this board from the engineers room down stairs and get this patched up."

"Yes Sarge." The senior of the three said before ushering the other two towards the door, using his boot to encourage one to go faster.

Grinning at the antics she stowed her M7S, tightening the strap that held it to her body so it pressed against her chest, she reached back and grabbed her SR99SC-2 from where it had been placed on a desk. She checked the chamber as she moved to the window, grabbing a pair of field glass she scanned the street looking for any Covenant that might have spotted the Freaks entry. 

Scanning over an ally she paused two shapes, two dark shapes stood out; they looked like bodies, upright and mobile but she couldn't tell. Moving on a flash of green snapped her attention back to the alleyway as a green chem-light was waved at the building. "Oh bloody hell." She said, "Corporal, go get the El-Tee we've got some visitors knocking on our door."

"Got it!"

* * * * *

Now on the fourth floor Ian explained their situation to the SPARTAN as the infirmary, particullary the Captain and his condition. Ian quickly confirmed with the Army Medic on the Captain's status. 

The Captain was stable but he'd loss the leg, they moved in and Ian grabbed the Captain's shoulder and gave it a few good squeezes. "Sir, sir!" He said rousing the injured Marine from his slumber, "There's someone here you ought to meet, 001 this is Captain Sorelson. Sir this is Petty Officer Roy 001, Christmas came early Sir."

The makeshift current behind them snapped open, drawing all their attention to the young Soldier, "Sirs, Petty Officer, we've got a green chem-light signal from the street. They appear friendly."

Ian looked at the SPARTAN, "Yours?"

"Get SFC Tipson, take a squad a go get them."

[Cabel]

[City of Refuge: Captain Mark “Spade” Seamus Sorelson: Seventh Marines: Alpha Company: With Survivors: Current Situation: In an abandoned Office Complex]

“Sir, Sir!” he heard a voice rouse him from sleep, combined with a few gentle squeezes on his right shoulder. “There’s someone here you ought to meet. Zero-Zero-One this is Captain Sorelson. Sir, this is Petty Officer Roy Zero-Zero-One, Christmas came early, Sir,”

“I’m awake. I’m awake…” Mark muttered softly before slowly opening his eyes allowing to adjust as he went. Craning his neck a little, he’d take a look at the extremely tall ODST that stood next to Ian. “Either they’re feeding something different to the ODST Corps, or you’re not exactly in that outfit. Petty Officer Roy Zero-Zero-One…doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it? You’re of the Spartan Outfit, aren’t you? I’ve run into a Spartan or two over the years, especially on that Mission to the Planet Zenith. Interesting weather that place had, and the Spartan that time refrained from talking unless it was for crucial information. Relax, son,…Petty Officer, I’m not one of those officers that dislikes Spartans. You boys and girls put your lives on the line, as we do, and I can’t find fault in that. Forgive me, if I can’t stand to meet you. I seem to have bad luck when it comes to buildings, as they tend to fall on me,” He said slowly sitting up with the help of a few pillows and was careful not to pull the stitches in the leg. “Captain Sorelson, or Spade at your service. My old squad mates gave me the name of Spade back during a failed OP on the Moon Echidna in ‘twenty-one and it’s proven itself over the years. I’m safe in assuming you didn’t drive here in a warthog and park it under the parking deck, or fly here. The EMP Zone’s made anything with electric parts hard to come by,”

[MrKill]

(( OOC: I'm sick of standing still with my primary ground character. I'm creating a reasonable escape option for my Colonel. Sorry guys. ))

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
Seventh Marines
Wounded in action

John pushed himself up out of the lowering flood waters and coughed. He wasn't supposed to be running, yet the stubborn Marine refused to give up so easily to his head wounds. He was pushing himself to his physical limits, however, and continued to run away from the Covenant patrol that had cut off the Sergeant and Staff Sergeant moments before engaging him. Their fates he did not know, but hoped they were still alive.

With the thought of his chasers behind him, the veteran Marine slammed his back against the cement-like wall and slid down, holding his side-arm down the alley he had retreated from. He aimed, with the under barrel of the magnum on his left wrist. Sure enough a Jackal, armed with a needler, cautiously moved around the corner. Three loud discharges and the Colonel was on the move again, down to his final six rounds for his side-arm.

He collapsed again into the water - dazed and confused - but didn't give up. He rolled to his side in harbored breathing and knew that if he didn't get his ass out of the water they'd kill him. He coughed, rolled to his chest and pushed himself up. There had to be an alternative way around the Covenant patrol. He was glad that the Covenant weapons, shields and equipment were inoperable. John already had a spiker round impaled into his left hand.

John quickly wiped the blood dripping from his nose, his own mistake for trying to run with a mild or severe concussion. It was fading, though, but the headache was getting worse. With daylight mere hours, or perhaps less, away it was only a matter of time before he'd be telling the sun to fuck off.

The Marine carelessly, however, ran out of the alley while he was looking behind him. He nearly tripped over a dead civilian slumped face first into the water but continued forward, towards what he believed to be the location of the Marine staging post. He was attempting to retreat the way he had came, but the waters had receded nearly ten meters in this area. He knew, fortunately, that the building with the crashed pelican overlooked the farm lands of the Marines staging point.

But in the near distance, down an alley but on the buildings opposite to it, the street illuminated a glowing green. John decided, then and there, that if it were a trap he'd die alone but intimidated by his chasers he had little choice but to rendezvous with whomever popped the green flare.

By the time he arrived, which took about a minute to trek down the ally cautiously, the found himself staring at two large Marines. Thank god, John thought to himself. I thought I was a goner. Though it was only two Marines, it appeared to him they were trying to regroup with other Marines, Soldiers, Civilians or anything they could get.

"Marines, friendly moving out of the ally." John said - the sentence alternating between fatigue and pain - and moved out of the ally and slumped along the wall. His whole body was shaking and he carelessly allowed his side-arm to 'bloop' into the water he sat in. He coughed wetly twice and laboriously attempted to control his breathing while examining his injured hand.

"You happen to ha-ve," John begun. "A Corpsman around? I think I'm fucked up." John asked with a bloody smile, his nose still gushing blood down his face, into his mouth and onto his uniform. He chuckled to himself quietly, amused by his self-deprecating humor.

[RiddL]

(OOC- Dont worry bout it... I was waiting for Armory to post but yeah no problem.

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
Fighting for his life

Kai turned and fired half a clip and approaching jiralhanae and forced it into cover "You want me!? Come and get me!" Kai yelled Ferociously and Defiantly. He ran towards where the parachutes had gone down earlier and made it about 500 meters before having to stop for another firefight. He turned to give O'Neal support and opened up fire on the Covenant following them. He emptied the clip and rushed to reload it knowing it could be life and death here. He cocked the rifle and continued firing killing two jiralhanae and a kig-yar in the process.

"Keep moving up Wolf" O'Neal yelled above the gunfire.
"Alright, suppress them... NOW" He yelled as he started running.

He got about 50 feet away when he turned to support his spotter and saw it happen.

Time seemed to slow down as the Unggoy threw the grenade towards O'Neal, Kai could only watch it descend towards his spotter and stick to the center of his friends lower back. Kai yelled but it was too late. "Run" was the last words that formed in O'Neal's mouth as the explosion tore him apart. Blood covered the surrounding walls and limbs and organs flew everywhere. Kai was hit by something metallic and pulled it off of him, It was O'Neal's Dog Tags.

Kai held back tears as he ran away. He had just lost his best friend before his eyes, and he just stood there, motionless. He ran for all he was worth until he found a building that was taller than all the others. he ran into a hallway and heard the footsteps that were following him. He stopped and readied his rifle, A tear rolling down his face, "Come on asshole, show your face" He said quietly, A lone Jiralhanae wondered in and smelled the air. It turned down the hallway and looked towards where Kai was ready. He pulled the trigger and the Brute was assaulted by a hail of gun fire and by the time it fell over, Kai had emptied the clip.

Kai ran to an emergency box mounted on the wall, he opened it and found medical supplies, MREs and a flare gun with multiple flares with it. He grabbed everything he could carry and ran to the top of the building he grabbed the flair gun and put one of the orange flares -Meaning that he needed a place that he could regroup with others- into the flare guns chamber. He took aim at the night sky and fired, letting everyone who could possibly see it in the area know his location, Including Covenant troops. He hoped that someone would answer the flare with one of their own and prepared himself for the longest hours of his life. He held O'Neal's dog tags and cried silently.

He looked to the side and found a Drop pod from a fellow ODST that hadn't been opened, he walked to it, Magnum in hand and started to pry the door off of it. It took him a while put he managed to open it and as he did, a body fell out and laid still, dead. Kai got to one knee and removed the ODSTs Dogtags, he listened and could have sworn he heard static. He removed the ODSTs helmet and removed the power supply and jacked it into his own helmet. He watched his HUD flicker weakly and appear before his eyes. The blips on his map read that he was surrounded by enemies. He even saw O'Neal's Friend Or Foe tag appear, making Kai weep. He sighed and tried the radio.

"This is Staff Sergeant Kai Blacklock, The Wolf of Reach, 153rd ODSTs, to all channels, I have sent up a flair marking my location and I am alone, My spotter is dead and I have been split from Colonel B'Sheau Killinger of the Seventh Marines. If anyone can hear me, we are still alive. I need somewhere I can regroup. Send up an orange flare, Wolf out" Kai said clearly through the channel, hopefully he could reach the surviving marines who had managed to rig up Radios to scan for anyone. He watched his HUD die again and he knew that the power supply was like all the other electrical gear he had... Fried.

All he could do now was wait.