Unit Mission: Seventh Marines

[rookie425]

"Triage is in the cafeteria, should be down the hall to your right," Bellend said through Nyro's helmet speakers. She didn't waste any time taking point, leading the way to the cafeteria, propping doors open for the stretcher team. Her boot made a wet squeak against the tile as she started to move. Once she found out the reason, her feet began to drag, a sick feeling filling her from lungs to throat. "If nothing else, follow the blood."

Thick streaks of red highlighted the ground; blood didn't bother her, but the amount made the drag marks and smears clear even with what little light they had to work with. She swallowed, having almost no spit left to keep her throat from drying, and prepared herself for the reality of what was to come. Jogging ahead of the stretcher crew, she rounded the corner and felt her heart stop at the sight a trio of Marines each with a body bag in tow as they entered a nearby classroom. She caught a glimpse of the inside; there were at least a dozen casualties, all lining the floor--and that was only from her limited point of view on the room. Second Battalion was going to be grieving for a long while if her imagination was close to the mark.

Pushing the caf's double-doors open, she waved the rest of her group through the doors. A rank smell hit Nyro as she stepped in, a kind that she could only describe as decay. The cafeteria stank of urine and body odors that made her sinuses swell unlike anything she could describe. Reactively, she pulled the scarf up from around her vest collar and covered her face just long enough to focus on taking stock of the triage.

Almost all of the tables had been cleared out of the massive, rectangular room's central floor. All that had been taken away were now leaning against the walls and windows as added reinforcement. Any tables that remained were being used for life-saving operations. The stretcher crew had let their man from Second Battalion down on one such table, and as Vivian made her way over, she slowly peeled the shemagh from her face.

"Private Gul, can you here me?" she asked clearly, masking her concern well enough. Given no response, she stepped beside the man, looking his body up and down.

Gul was beneath a sedan when Vivian and the others found him. The passenger door had opened in such a way upon impact with alien weaponry that it acted like a guillotine on the way back down from a five second hang time. It landed jaggedly inside the Marine's abdomen. Biofoam only did the trick for so long, and even as it served its purpose he was still in bad shape. The man seemed motionless now, and as Nyro pulled her scanner to the ready, one of the stretcher carriers readied his hands to the man's chest to attempt recuscitation.

Nyro shook her head. " He's already gone," she said, feeling the empathy sink in as she saw the Marine rest his hands heavily against the table. "There was nothing you could do. It was just timing."

A nearby listener accommodated the mourning group with a body bag. It was the best they could ask for.

[dryskim]

Lance Corporal Richard Bellend

7th Marine Regiment, 1st Battalion

Tornado 2-4 Alpha


Hooked on a Feeling...I'm high on Believing~!

Bellend leaned over the edge of the rooftop, expecting to find McPherson's head split like a coconut, blood and brains splattering the sidewalk. Instead, he found that McPherson was, surprisingly, intact.


"Y'okay?"


Only for the M247's bipod to finally lose it's battle against gravity, and go tumbling towards the ground - where it impacted with McPherson's Scottish abs. This was followed by a string of curses that Bellend's couldn't identify as English, so either McPherson had switched over to his native tongue, or was simply screaming gibberish.


Either way, he wasn't dead.

Taking that as a positive, Bellend headed back to acquire his things. Captain Pegleg the Overly Motivated Pirate basically reminded everybody of things they already knew, like keeping a full mag loaded, if Bellend had the capability to actually give a shit, he might be offended by the fact their superior thought they were all fucking retards. He confirmed his SPNKr was secure before hefting his ruck onto his shoulders with a grunt. 

"Well, shit. We might actually be participating in this fuckin' war."

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
Seventh Marines
HQ Building

John sat down on top of a desk with a MRE and a pop (Soda) on his person to relax for a moment. His staff was working hard, the Marines had secured the town in record time, and various Force Recon elements were watching the nearby area carefully enough a mouse didn't get by without John being informed. The aging Marine brushed off some dirt on his camouflage and took off his set of heavy armor he personally preferred over the other armors available to Marines... or any branch in the UNSC really.

He cracked open the duel vented can of 500ml of grape pop and placed it down next to him, followed by opening up the pack of spaghetti w/ sauce and begun to have his meal. The MRE was actually good, in his opinion, and this one was his favorite. The grape pop helped down the frequently lingering after taste. John had his meal while simultaneously reading a report from one of the forward recon teams. This specific report, filed by a Corporal, indicated a Covenant Grunt had been 'burned alive' by some farmers. By the time they reached the farm house the grunt was still twitching.

Looks like someone had a roast John chuckled to himself, appreciative of the fact the Marines hadn't run into opposition. Alpha Company would mop up the Covenant approaching the 'FOB' and John would have them retasked. But, when it came over the secured channel that one of the recon patrols found a crashed freighter emitting an active NAV database, is when John's tactical pad crashed on the floor and bounced away in broken bits.

John listened into the transmission as the platoon leader reported it to John's H&S company. Eventually, they reported it to John. It was a faint, very faint signal. The platoon leader wasn't a NAV tech, but he estimated that the databases were in the process of being erased from the freighter turned evacuation ship was destroyed - halting the deletion process at just a couple of 'systems'. Judging from the potential heat of the CPU systems, no more than three planets.

The Colonel knew he had to mobilize his troops to secure that data. The emissions were faint enough they couldn't be detected from orbital scans. The Marine patrol literally had to be inside the Freighter to detect the NAV database signature, but there was no guarantee that the Covenant hadn't already found it. A freighter was large, larger than a Marathon Cruiser respectfully, was was light and atmospheric rated. How it crashed was uncertain at this point, but John could not let the possibility of any UNSC colony fall into Covenant hands. Given, the vessel had been crashed for nearly two weeks since the combat on Refuge, but it's possible the habitable moon hid the Freighter long enough to conceal it from the Covenant.

Didn't they delete the location of Earth from all non-military vessels? John though as he picked up his broken tactical pad, frowned, and tossed it to the side. He had a wrist mounted one and starting using that, getting frustrated with the lack of range. He liked the bigger bads, ones with more surface area for your fingers. He couldn't find the relevant information, so decided to act on a gut feeling.

"Angel Actual, Tornado Actual; Guardian Actual - standby for orders." John said. He knew his son would be listening, as would Sorelson. "A crashed fighter has been detected with faint traces of energy detected from a NAV computer. You're being re-tasked to secure the data. Return to base and prepare to lift off VIA pelican. Mission launch in thirty. Guardian Actual, out." John added.

They better hurry...

[JJM8C4J]

Lance Corporal James Stone
1/7 Marines
Tornado 2-4 Alpha

James opened up his dreary eyes as Bellend plopped a can of RipIt in front of his face. After casting the fellow Marine a glance and informing him of the naughty things he'd do to him behind closed doors, Lance Corporal Stone plucked up the small can and lifted it to his lips; tilting it back until the lukewarm liquid poured into his mouth. He used his tongue to cover the clump of dip tucked into his lower lip, preventing the tasty pop from mixing with the not so tasty tobacco.

As he downed the can in one go, James was unable to give Nyro she needed to reach triage. Fortunately, the ever fatherly Dick cut in and informed her of the proper path. As the Corpsman entered the school, Stone's comm buzzed with radio traffic from higher.

Apparently they were being routed to deal with a few Covvie platoons beyond the wire. James wasn't quite sure on the plausibility of preventing a hostile force from discovering the UNSC's position, by killing them and confirming for the Covenant where the Marines were. However, a few extra seconds of thinking failed to produce a better plan, so the machine gunner mentally shrugged his shoulders and settled for the chance to kill something.

Lance Corporal Stone set the now empty can of RipIt on the lip of the rooftop and reached down to grab the rucksack he had been using as a seat, slinging the heavy pack over his shoulders and attaching it to his harness. He then lifted his M247 GPMG from the impromptu guard post, turning to face the rest of the squad-

-Just as Jock participated in the famous Scottish Olympic sport of falling off of stuff. At first, a little concern crossed through James' mind as the tripod that his assistant machine gunner carried tumbled over the edge too; but he wasn't entirely sure if the worry was for his comrade or the valuable piece of military equipment that helped him kill things.

However, a string of curses confirmed that McPherson was relatively unscathed. James grabbed the empty RipIt can and smashed it into the lip of the rooftop, flattening the aluminum can before he leaned over the edge and chucked it at the prone form of the Marine three stories down.

"Hey motherfucker, get up or you'll miss the war!"

[rookie425]

Nyro watched the two Marines stand motionless over the fallen 2nd Battalion member that was Private Gul. This was nothing too new to her. She had seen death many a time; maybe the passings in hospital settings weren't as graphic, but this was no different in concept. There was no room left for sorrow over people she never knew, but even still she didn't detach herself from the fact that Private Gul was another KIA to add to the list.

"Let's give him some space," Vivian said, bringing the two to look at each other, exchange a nod, then shuffle from the scene.

One turned her way, "MAV" printed on his chest plate, looping a thumb underneath a rifle strap that rested on his shoulder. Lifting it from his back, he caught the attached MA5C it by the foregrip and carefully pulled back the charging handle just enough to show brass casing underneath. "Loaded," he said while presenting it into Nyro's personal bubble. "You're gonna need something a little bit heavier than a bullet hose if this turns into a longer ranged standoff."

The Corpsman reached out hesitantly when her fingers drew back at an afterthought. "That's Gul's. Shouldn't it be--"

"It's better off in someone else's hands than stripped for ammo and parts right now. Take his reloads when you're ready."

Without having many other excuses to turn down the weapon, Vivian accepted it. Muscle memory took over as she rechecked the weapon herself, testing the safety toggle. One round was already in the chamber per the rifle's illuminated display, and with the smart-link finally tapping into her HUD, she was happy to see another twenty-two rounds left in the magazine.

Glancing around the room, Nyro saw that most other wounded were already stable or being treated. With a heavy sigh, she cradled her rifle and made for the hallway. "This is Hospitalman Nyro," she said on global comm, "requesting further instructions, over."

[Astro]

████ Hours, December ██, 2547 (Military Calendar) /

Sanctuary, Hope



LCpl Jock McPherson

7th Marine Regiment, 1st Battalion

Tornado 2-4, Fireteam Alpha


Making sure he hadn't powdered his bones from the impact, Jock groaned and shrugged the M247's mount off of his body. The realisation of what had just happened hit him almost as hard as the ground did: he had just fallen off of a roof. A fucking roof. He saw the Marines on the roof that were looking down at his stupid ass. One middle finger to his watching teammates gave him the energy he needed to scrape himself off of the sidewalk. Propping himself up on one elbow on top of his rucksack, Jock made it to his feet and tested that his legs were still intact. For a second, he thought he might have fallen over with agonising pain shooting through his lower half, but the fall hadn't seemed to do any permanent damage.

"Motherfucking roof. Fucking Warren," Jock muttered, bending down to pick up his MA5 and the tripod. "Stupid fucking Bravo Private. Bastard rucksack. God fucking damn ye, ye silly shites."

"You just fell off a roof. You just fell off a roof." Warren repeated himself loud enough for Jock to hear, trying to make sense of the pure slapstick stupidity that he had just witnessed. Part of him wanted to laugh. Part of him wanted to call Jock an idiot. Instead, he looked at the Scot with a look of disbelief on his face, eyes somewhat narrowed.

"Well fuckin' observed ya' daft bastard." Jock shouted back. "Get down 'ere. One of the Killingers just told us the Company's on something else, along with the entire ODST force we got."

"Yeah we heard. No idea which one though."

"Which one what?"

"Which Killinger it was." Warren called back. He turned around to tell Stone and Bellend to get their shit together and head downstairs.

"Probably the one that's more Samoan than the other dozen." Jock replied, but his words fell on deaf ears. He delivered the universal sign of 'Eh, never mind.' by batting his forearm down like a drunk. He walked around the corner of the school and disappeared through the side entrance to meet up with the rest of 2-4.

[MrKill]

[TIME-SKIP]

The Marines of the 153rd ODST Company and 1/7, Alpha Company find themselves at the crashed freighter. You've been ordered by Colonel Killinger to secure the area, investigate the breached Cole Protocol and download viral scrubbers to remove the remaining NAV Data.

However, your objective is to protect a Marine Computer Security Specialist assigned to assess if any data has been retrieved from navigation systems.

[rookie425]

Vivian found herself outside of a downed freighter. Where it had come from and why it had run aground here was beyond her pay grade, hence why 1/7 and the 153rd were tasked with securing the zone for a tech to come in and solve the mystery. The crash site looked akin to the sight of a beached whale; a colossal being helplessly splayed out, this one without so much as a reserved, painful groan. This poor girl was dead, her crew probably just as expired.

However, Vivian refused to believe that. With the ship this much intact, she had some hope of there being survivors. Or, she thought, maybe it was an unmanned freighter. That would sure make the job ten loads easier. Even still, she racked her head with trying to determine how triage would work here in this situation.

Staying outside the ship would leave them rather exposed, but the inside was unknown territory. She didn't like having to leave the elementary school, but priorities shifted. Treatment wasn't in very high demand there anyways. Body bags seemed to be a bigger need.

[Swashbuckler]

CPL. Peter Renge, 2/7 Marines, Alpha Company
Courier 1-2 Bravo
Currently Re-tasked with 1st Battalion Alpha Company and 153 ODST Company

Renge eyes lazily danced between the windows of the nearby buildings while he walked, his mind in a different place. Just a few hours ago, Renge and the entirety of 2nd Battalion were going through hell. Maybe thirty percent of them survived, god knows how many were injured. Aside from Rivers, his fireteam had survived. Renge had no idea how, but Rivers was standing beside him one moment and a piece of debris replaced him in the next. Gone. That was hours ago, and Renge tried to focus on where he was now. His fireteam walked behind him, heads on a swivel. They had been re-tasked to 1st Battalion, Alpha Company. ODST and Marines moved all about them, some in vehicles and others walking. All of them seemed slightly worn down, but they kept themselves up. They were going to a crashed freighter, moving through the town and away from the safety of the schools.

Makutu and Caldwin were silent, though Renge wasn’t surprised. What could be said after an engagement like that? They gladly accepted the offer to move out, just to move away from their decimated battalion. Renge’s thoughts were interrupted when he almost ran into the Mraine in front of him who had stopped. They’d reached the crashed frigate, lying dead and ruptured. The two companies had stopped in front of it, waiting for updated orders. It was days like these Renge was glad he only had a fireteam to order around. Clearing out that freighter could be a monster of a task, depending on what and who was inside, and Renge had no idea how they’d go about it. His two PFCs stopped behind him, staring at the frigate. Makutu said absently, not really to anyone, “Lot of losses in these last few days. Lot of body bags.” Renge simply nodded, knowing how he felt. He kept an ear out for orders on how to continue, but mostly just looked around, feeling the sting of only having two familiar faces with him.

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODST
This should be interesting...

Kai walked with a helmet tucked under his arm and a shotgun on his shoulder and stopped near the front of everyone else, mentally calculating the entry points and how many men should enter them at once. He took the helmet from under his arm and put it on, watching the HUD light up and mark out the marines and ODSTs around him. He brought the shotgun from of his shoulder and checked it for anything.

He walked to the front of the small force and inspected the remains of the ship closely and called into his radio, "Lieutenant Killinger this it Staff Seargeant Blacklock, Permission to take a rocen team into the freighter to secure, and locate any survivors. Over" he said as he saw a small entry point that could allow for two men at a time to enter. 

[Cabel]

[Tranquilitas Beta: Moon Sanctuary: Alpha Company: Farms North of Town and later the Downed Freighter: Captain Mark “Spade” Seamus Sorelson: Year 2547]

After receiving their new orders to secure a downed freighter that had somehow managed to remain unscathed or virtually unscathed in the Siege of Refuge, Mark had diverted his forces of Alpha Company, and the One-Fifty-Third ODST Company to the location of that downed freighter with the task of securing the nearby around and in wiping the onboard mainframe’s information pertaining to Earth. The Cole Protocol had been in effect for roughly a decade, and mandated the deletion of information regarding Earth and other populated worlds as a preventative measure in the Covenant’s genocidal onslaught. The notion that freight had been able to make it to this moon without its Captain or crew ensuring the Cole Protocol and had managed to crash land virtually intact had meant Alpha Company with the One-Fifty-Third ODST Company had to arrive first before the Covenant. They had managed to eliminate the Covenant presence in the farms north of the town the UNSC had fortified before word had reached them of the downed freighter, and after an encoding transmission back through the proper channels before arriving at the Colonel’s headquarters that the probe had been eliminated Mark had followed through with his next set of orders.

* * * * * *

[Downed Freighter]

A short time later, Alpha Company with the One-Fifty-Third had arrived at the crash site of the freighter and knowing that if they had been able to detect the downed freighter’s signal the Covenant had to detected it as well Mark had arrayed his marines in defensive positions as much as possible. Securing the surrounding area hadn’t been that difficult more due in part to their timely arrival over their Covenant counterparts, and Mark had passed word down to his platoon commanders and their squad commanders that the ground had to be held while the marine computer specialist dug around inside the freighter’s mainframe.

“Tornado Actual to all Tornado and Angel Callsigns, our task is to defend this freighter and its contents. With the surrounding terrain secured, it doesn’t mean we can kick back and relax. Keep your eyes open, and ears alert. You can bet your last credit we’re not the only ones wanting this party favor. Expect the Covenant to come knocking, and I want the welcome mat ripped from beneath them. Send the Covenant packing as if you were guarding your girlfriend. If you start wondering if you’re going to need a change of BDUs, realize if you’re concerned about that the alien methane breather’s thinking the same thing. Focus on that, and we’ll get through this,” Spade said, opening the encoded frequency Alpha Company, and the One-Fifty-Third Company used over his helmet-com-link. He’d driven his four warthogs, his own and the three others along with the special equipment the marine computer specialist might have needed near one of the main hatches of the freighter which compared to it the warthogs were as ants.

[rookie425]

HA Vivian Nyro
UNSC 7th Marines, 1st Battalion, Alpha Company, 2nd Platoon
Obvious concern

After having sat through Sorelson's pep talk on comms, having adjusted her volume more than once to hear personnel around her, Vivian felt at the least a little inspired by the Captain's words. The "as if you were guarding your girlfriend" part made her tap her fingers against her MA5 in thought however. Nyro never thought of herself as a lesbian. Bi-curious, come to think of it, but never had she acted on or explored it in any way. But...he didn't know that. Hopefully he didn't care. It was a strange feeling thinking of herself as the only woman in her entire platoon.

All inner conflict aside, she tapped her helmet mic to test its feedback, receiving a displeased stare from one of the nearby Marines. "That doesn't sound as pleasant as you think," he said.

"Sorry..." she uttered, keying into global comms again, listening as Staff Sergeant Blacklock transmitted back to Killinger.

"Lieutenant Killinger this it Staff Seargeant Blacklock, Permission to take a recon team into the freighter to secure, and locate any survivors. Over"

His voice seemed to echo, meaning he was nearby. Perking her gaze, she spotted him standing ahead of the formation by four meters before the freighter. With a steady power walk, she arrived at his side within a moment. "Staff Sergeant, I'd like to come with in case of any wounded."

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODSTs
Lock n Load

Kai turned and looked down at the woman beside him and let his visor reveal his face.

"Get what you need and get ready, stay on my six and stay in the center of the squad. Any survivors we see, do not rush to them even if they beg, sounds harsh but just in case of any environmental hazards." he said as his visor hid his face again as he turned to Cub.
"Cub, keep the nice lady here safe while we are in there, she gets hurt or killed and you share her fate, understood?" Kai said calmly.
"Yes Staff Sergeant" Cub replied calmly as he stood a little straighter, betraying his nervousness.

He looked over to four other ODSTs and signaled them to ready up and looked back to Nyro, "We move out in five minutes." He said as the others joined him.

[rookie425]

Nyro swallowed the burden she had put upon herself. Being a volunteer meant having to overcome that stage fright, and in her position she had to deal with it every day. Absorbing the Staff Sergeant's every word, she nodded in return. "Don't worry about me, Staff Sergeant. I know the rules of scene safety and triage better than the average."

To "Cub," or "Meanny" as stenciled on his nameplate, Vivian nodded, flashed a friendly smile and brushed a strand of sweat and grime tangled hair to the side before pointing her thumb to the A/FAK on her shoulders. "I'm good to go when you are," she said with a warm tone.

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODST
S&R Time

Kai nodded at Nyro, "Ok then, and don't call me Staff Sergeant, I don't care much for military discipline, call me Kai or Wolf, either will do." He said in a chirpy tone.

He raised his shotgun to his shoulder and took in a breath to calm down the battle jitters that floated in his stomach, "Ok then... Let's move out people, standard breach, search and rescue. Call out anything that seems out of the ordinary." he called out as he made way to one of the hull breaches and entered with a finger on the trigger guard, seeing a body impaled on a what seemed to be the remains of a bed frame.

"Ok first things first, we make for the Medical bays and search there first, then the armory and finally engineering." he said as he made his way around the body and further into the room to allow for the others to enter unhindered.

[rookie425]

Nyro almost addressed Blacklock as "Kai" when she opened her mouth to reply, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. She never saw herself as a stickler for etiquette either. The "Sir" and "Ma'am" talk died down after boot camp. There was still a need to be proper. Calling a Staff Sergeant, one that she just met, by his first name was too personal for her. Instead, she chose silence. The motioned into the freighter, and silence felt appropriate as the first casualty came into view.

A meter behind Blacklock, she paused a moment to look at the body. Unnerved, she still kept it together enough to take a close inspection. The amount of blood and the general color of the man's skin was enough to tell her that he was dead. Still, she inspected his face. He had been dead for some time, eyes open and glassed. Swallowing a disgusted grunt, Vivian nodded to Cub and moved on.

"Ok first things first, we make for the Medical bays and search there first, then the armory and finally engineering," Kai said.

Vivian took a breath as the squad started to slip through the breach, and gradually released it from her tired lungs whilst she slipped on a pair of fingerless gloves, slung her MA5, and brought up her shorter M7 caseless SMG. She wasn't just a medic now, she knew. Fighting would have to come first. She didn't want to slow the squad down, make them feel obligated to cover her if she had to provide care.

"I might need to bring some wounded out for treatment. Do we have a plan for that?"

[MrKill]

Staff Sergeant McKeal (NPC)
1/7, A Company, 1PLT
Downed Frighter

"Staff Sergeant, what are we doing here?" Private Joris spoke with a tone laced with boredom. McKeal grinned softly at the young Marines displeasure of sitting in a Warthog for an hour. Despite arriving at the downed freighter the El-Tee was talking to one of the security specialists McKeal was personally assigned to protect. All he knew what his VIP was a POG, a Sergeant Allen (Astro). McKeal had been given twelve Marines plus himself, a good chunk of what was left of Lieutenant Killinger's platoon.

"Waiting for our VIP to arrive," McKeal responded as the VIP's Warthog pulled up. "Disembark!" McKeal ordered. His squad jumped off the Warthog APC and continued to form a sloppy formation around him. Like they were trained, they watched their sectors and lazily moved forward with McKeal.

"Sergeant Allen," McKeal said as he approached the Sergeant. "I'll be your escort to the freighters operations center. Staff Sergeant Neal will join you later, he has been delayed en-route by a picket of Covenant squads up the road between us and the Regimental HQ, so you're on your own when it comes to examining these systems until he rejoins us. We'll be on point but follow your lead."

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODST
Recon Squad Alpha

Kai pondered on what Nyro had just said and replied thoughtfully, "Depending on the state of the Medical Facilities on board, that will have to do." He watched the last man enter and started making careful, but fast progress through the ship towards the Medical bays, collecting the tags off each dead man they found.

"What the hell happened to bring this fucker down?" he pondered out loud to none in particular, he had seen these kind of things before, but to his eye, there was no major damage to the ship. He walked around the corner and heard a small moan from inside one of the sleeping quarters to his right. He held up his right arm in a fist to stop advancing and raised his shotgun into a ready position.

Calmly and calculatedly he moved in and turned to see a Marine in full armour with a handgun pointed at the door and watched as the Marine dropped in in relief as a small rescue team entered, "Oh thank god, didn't know how much longer I could hold out on my own." He said exasperatedly as he held his side tenderly.

"Well then this is all fine and dandy, Nyro, your up" Kai said as he looked toward two of the other ODSTs with him, "Move out and get to the medical bays and secure it" He ordered and the two men just nodded and ran out the door at a slow jog.

[Astro]

████ Hours, December ██, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Sanctuary, Hope /
Outside Downed Freighter

Sergeant Craig Allen
7th Marine Regiment, 1st Battalion

One of the perks of Allen's MOS was his access to technology. His earpiece played barely audible music as he admired the sight of the gargantuan husk. Its dark, thickset frame melded almost completely with the onyx sky, betrayed only by the sudden cessation of tiny glimmering specks and the freighter's unnatural blocky shape. The endless expanse of night had always intrigued Allen, right from when he was a small boy lying atop the hill behind his grandparents' house on silent, clear evenings. He and his father would visit Allen's late grandfather there frequently, spending hours gazing upwards into the abyss of space. Many days in his childhood had come to a peaceful close on that hill, often drifting into soothing slumbers filled with dreams of the infinitude of the universe and everything in it.

Space had always been a desire of Craig's. He had longed to venture out into the great beyond for years of his innocent early days. Something about the vastness of it, the limitless possibilities, lit a spark of joy in his young self. Even now, as an interstellar adult Marine, outer space still fascinated him. Every snippet of the universe he managed to catch, be it via his datapad or through the tiny portholes of a UNSC Frigate, gladdened him, no matter the situation. Not once had the star-scattered canvas soured his mood; it had never failed to cheer him up.

Right now, the thought of where he stood amazed him. His feet touched the ground that the UEG had deemed Sanctuary. This moon, this satellite of the planet Hope, had been painted by Craig's father as a bluish-green swirl against a colourless background, accompanied by a sprinkle of minuscule white dots. Alongside the rendition of Hope's largest natural satellite were two more spheres, each slightly smaller than Sanctuary. The first, Guardian, blended at the edges with the blackness of painted space, grey as slate. The other stood out from its backdrop, almost glowing with a pale yellow hue. Its name was Divinity and it was, only just, the smallest of the trio of moons.

He, Craig Allen, had become a part of his father's artwork. It was euphoric, to say the least, knowing that he was now stood on that cobalt disc that shined proudly down from the wall in his parents' living room. Shone, even. That painting his father had produced on a trip to Hope, and his family, were long gone. Victims of an unprovoked alien invasion. The Covenant; the only thing Craig truly despised about the universe. Their genocidal, zealous, fanatical ways had ruined the beauty of the Milky Way. They were space-faring, religious extremists and they angered Craig like nothing else. They had corrupted his view of the universe. He had thought it was a place filled with only wondrous, breathtaking things. Never had he been so wrong; the Covenant had murdered his family, his friends and so many more innocent people on so many more planets.

This upsetting truth had lowered Craig's spirits many a time. The thought of his lost family always tugged at the sides of his mind, threatening to take over his life with grief and misery, woe and sorrow. Usually, he turned to his frustrating work to hide from the losses. Other times, he would distract himself by conversing with his team or by simply playing peaceful music. Sometimes, sleep was the only answer to his grievances and even then he was riddled by upsetting dreams of what once was, or painful, graphic nightmares of dying friends and family members.

"Sergeant Allen," came a voice that shook Craig from his fixated gaze on the sky. The Sergeant pressed a finger to his ear and stopped the music that was playing.  "I'll be your escort to the freighters operations center. Staff Sergeant Neal will join you later, he has been delayed en-route by a picket of Covenant squads up the road between us and the Regimental HQ, so you're on your own when it comes to examining these systems until he rejoins us. We'll be on point but follow your lead."

"Sounds good, sir. We're going to need some time to get into the NAVCOM." said Craig in response to Staff Sergeant McKeal, reaching into the datapad case hanging from his shoulder. He pulled out the tablet and quickly unlocked it, noticing Corporal Barry Searle and Private Ryan Granger approaching in the corner of his eye. He looked up and acknowledged them, taking note of the equipment they were carting. They had several toolboxes and electrical components packed into a pair of large rucksacks, along with several kilograms worth of bundled up cables, datapads and field terminals.

"Everything but the G-14As, Sarge." Searle announced, double checking the fastenings on his rucksack before hefting it onto his back. Craig looked back down to the now illuminated screen of his tablet, his eyes immediately squinting at the bright light. He let his eyes adjust a tad before bearing the slight pain. He quickly brought up the ship's class and found a schematic for a model produced only two years prior to the beached titanium whale in front of him. The exterior looked almost identical, so he assumed the interior wouldn't be too different.

Granger followed Searle's lead with the donning of his bag, directing a question toward either one of his direct superiors, "We can do it without them though, right?"

"Yeah. It wouldn't surprise me if they had mini-monitors in maintenance anyway," Craig nodded, turning away from the Corporal and the Private, back to McKeal and his squad of twelve. "We can use a datapad like Nic and Mack did on the Thermopylae if not. Ready when you are, Staff. Quickest way looks like port side hangar A-01. There."

Craig pointed in the direction of the hangar. The soil that the freighter's hard landing had shifted had formed a gentle slope parallel to the ship. Maybe a metre above the mound of dirt was the bottom of Hangar A-01. From in there, they could cut through maintenance and climb a few decks until they hit the Operations Centre. That was according to the somewhat outdated map in the Sergeant's hands, at least; that didn't account for interior damage and possible hostile activity, though he doubted the latter. Subconsciously, he brushed the grip of his holstered M6 with his fingertips.

[Wax™]

(Thought this looked cool Astro so I 'borrowed' it)

████ Hours, December ██, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Sanctuary, Hope /
Currently Inside the Downed Freighter

First Lieutenant Travis Killinger
153rd ODST Battalion,
Alpha Company Commanding Officer

"Lieutenant Killinger this it Staff Sergeant Blacklock, Permission to take a recon team into the freighter to secure, and locate any survivors. Over." Killinger heard over his COMM's but unfortunately his system was going all FUBAR and he wasn't capable of replying having sustained some damage to his helmet one or two firefights ago. Killinger instead slowly made his way to Blacklock's position seeing as Blacklock used his Initiative and boarded the freighter anyway. Lifting his BR55 and resting it gently against his shoulder whilst the butt rests in the palm of his hand, holding the rifle in parade rest as he casually walked to the freighter, obviously in no sort of a rush.

Once he boarded the freighter he immediately found himself flanked by TWO random ODST Privates who thought it necessary to give the Lieutenant an armed escort to Blacklock even though Killinger was leading the way, he didn't exactly need directions his HUD had Blacklock's friend or foe tag lit up pretty bright and a green line traced the inside of the freighter in which Blacklock had walked so Killinger could find his way through the interior. One of the perks of being an Officer, your HUD get's a few more extra toys. Sure enough Lieutenant Killinger soon found himself directly behind Blacklock, facing the mans back he dropped his BR55, however it did not hit the ground, the strap secured to the butt just had it slap against his side. Lifting his hand he dropped it down lazily on the Blacklock's shoulder.

"Good to see your using your initiative Wolf and taking the team into the freighter Wolf is what they call you right?... I would have replied to your comm message bud but my COMM's transmitter is FUBAR right now... I'd appreciate it if you can order a squad up to the bridge on my behalf... And if you need anything from me Sergeant, now's the time." Killinger said before going silent and looking to the Marine.

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODSTs
Actually yes there is...

Kai nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed gently on his shoulder.

He took a second to regain his composure and nodded, "Yeah the boys call me Wolf, only guy with enough balls to hunt Covenant squads, also because I generally leave for recon at months at a time on my own." He replied with a slight cheerfulneess in his voice.

He relayed the Lieutenants orders through the comms before taking off his helmet and removing the communications ttansmitter and handing it to the Lieutenant.

"If you can spare some men, preferably with some engineering expertise, can you have them check the engines, this ship hasnt taken enough damage to fall out of the sky, and if you find anything, contact me on a private channel please sir" Kai asked as he placed his helmet back on.

He reached down to the Marine who sat there wincing in pain and grabbed his transmitter from the man's helmet, once more he took his own off and placed it in its correct place before placing the helmet back on his head. He gave a sharp salute and saw one of the ODSTs he sent running to the Med bay report to him.

"Looks like everything there is gone, minor damage but everything is in working condition." He said to Kai short of breath from running.

"Good job Corporal, return to searching for survivors and if you can, find a log of this ships final moments." Kai ordered the man casually and he took of running.

He crouched down to the injured Marine and squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Your gonna be fine mate, just think of the good things."

[MrKill]

[[NOTE: The crashed ship is not military, it was a civilian freighter - not a warship.]]

[rookie425]

Nyro had brushed past Blacklock's team when she was summoned to the injured man. Kneeling beside the mariner, she slung her M7 and brought up her medical scanner. "Take a few breaths for me."

Doing so caused the man obvious discomfort, but the resulting calibrations to her med-scan brought up enough to tell her this wasn't going to be as easy as slapping on some quick-clot. An object was penetrating the man's lower back, causing some damage to his lumbar, and beyond that he had three broken ribs forming a flail section.

His legs, however, were fine, which gave her the comfort of running a hand over his shin and gently digging her nails in. "Can you feel this?"

The man gave a nod. "I just...I don't want to move my legs."

"I don't blame you. Moving you might do more harm to your back if done incorrectly. So let's immobilize you and get you underway." Slipping the trauma sheers from her vest, Vivian spoke on her teamcomm. "Someone get me a stretcher. Got a wounded man."

By then, the Staff Sergeant had entered just as the corpsman began cutting away at the man's uniform, baring him from above the waist his collar in a smooth cut up the center of his shirt. Parting the cloth, she nodded to Kai, hinting for the man, as he comforted her patient, to move to give her more room. The flail segment was obvious, poking at the man's skin from underneath like a shot glass stuck under his skin. With her tape, she fastened a pad over the affected area and anchored it to the other side of his chest, giving it some stability for when he breathed.

Even still, she had the puncture wound to his back to deal with, and she hardly knew what she was dealing with. Leaning around back, she could see what looked like a pipe, jutting from the wall and finding hold inside the man's lower back. She shone her maglight on it and went cold with concern. It looked a lot deeper than it probably was, but she didn't want to risk it. Why didn't her scanner pick that up? It must have missed his vital organs by a distance she didn't want to know. For his spine to be this intact was a miracle.

"I'm gonna need a hacksaw too..."

[Swashbuckler]

Corporal Peter Renge, 2/7 UNSC Marines
Posted Outside the Crashed Ship

Peter threw the last shovelful of dirt behind him, finishing his small foxhole. It was about three feet, by depth and radius. There were other means of cover about, but he decided to dig one anyway. Something about a reliable hole in the ground made him feel safer. Peter put up the shovel and looked over to his fireteam. They were near the front of the company, keeping an eye out for Covenant. Caldwin and Makutu were talking with some other Marines, maybe exchanging supplies. Not really quid pro quo, just making sure everyone had what they needed. Caldwin was getting the occasional guy who couldn't quite keep it in his pants. What with her just losing a friend and this being a war zone, she really wasn't in the mood. Luckily, Makutu played the role of an older brother and quickly deterred each one, using his rare unsociable attitude.

They had the perimeter locked to an extent, what with the armor and their number. What cover there was was being used and ammunition was being checked constantly. Peter turned back toward the crashed ship, seeing ODST's going in and out. Though Peter wanted to check it out, he knew his place was right there, in the front. He couldn't leave his position to go look at every shiny thing he saw. He turned and looked out toward his fireteam again. Here they'll stand, in the shadow of a colossus.
Peter laughed aloud, amused by the somewhat poetic thought. The smile pulled on the scarred tissue of his cheek, contorting his smile into a sneer. He was getting older by the second. He was about to make an off hand comment to Rivers, who would usually have something to retort, when Peter remembered that he was gone. Peter's faced returned to its usual scowl, his eyes set forward and past his marines. Damn this day.

[MorpheusDavol]

Cpl. Loken Gnash
Time: *****
Date: *******
Meeting with Technician

Loken watched as one of the squads Pvt. Mackie helped Pvt. Mendez along the path,Mendez had taken a needle round into the arm but due to the battle they hadn't had time to patch it up so far he's been able to push through. However Loken began to notice called Civvie Frigate in the distance, his elbow going out to nudge Kyle. "There's our destination think the man might be there?" He asked his AR lowered as they approached the upcoming crash site. Truth be told he was a bit cautious about this considering they could be jumped at any minute, but it came with the job. "Most likely but if he isn't Viktor will probably have us wait there." Kyle commented lugging a MK-280 with him, being once of the more built men in the squad he was easily the heavy weapons expert to say the least. Loken eyes went onto Marco and Viktor the two veterans of their squad Marco being the enforcer to whatever Viktor said. Those two always knew what to do when it came down to it, he trusted them with his life.

 "Once we make out way up to the top I want us to keep the arrow formations, I'll take charge keep a eye out for others or that techie." Viktor spoke into their columns everyone giving a reassuring answer back, once they got closer a double time was ordered as they got a lightning towards the entrance of the crash site Loken spotting two men that seemed to be entering into the site. "Got two people bout to enter." He radioed to the rest of the squad, stopping their running as they raised their weapons approaching they began to see it who it was on the IFF.

"McKeal! I take it your escorting the Techie? Suppose y'all could use some help?" Viktor asked motioning for them to lower their weapons. "Nice to see a friendly."

[MrKill]

Staff Sergeant McKeal
1/7, A Co. 1PLT
Crashed Freighter

"Right," McKeal responded to the VIP he was assigned to protect. "Allistar, bring the ladder from the APC and get it up to the hanger access. Floy, you're up. Use the spoofer to open those doors... if we have power that is." McKeal ordered. He stood for a minute and watched as the two Marines did their job. Allistar retrieved the ladder from the Warthog APC and once it was in position Floy used the spoofer to assess the ability of the blast doors.

"They'll open, Staff, but not much!" Floy reported. The hanger bays creak open slowly. McKeal mentally swore - if the Covenant were on the ship they knew the Marines were coming. Great McKeal thought. Floy climbed down the ladder, re-positioned and and climbed back up. "Staff," The Marine said over the radio. "It's dark - real dark inside. I suggest moving in teams of two while we secure the area of the hanger."

"Do it," McKeal responded over the channel. Floy climbed in, followed by Allistar, then the rest of the squad started to climb the ladder. Before McKeal could climb up a fireteam of ODSTs arrived and offered their help in his mission - or well, at least they did to McKeal.

"Sure can, Staff Sergeant." McKeal said. "I've got tactical command, so you'd be joining my squad for now."

McKeal was roughly fifth to climb up and once he got into the spacious hanger raised his weapon to scan the deck. It was void, at least to depth perception, but extremely dark - too dark. It was like coming into a horror movie. Marine lights snapped on to reveal further.

Civilians.

And a lot of them, if not all, were dead.

"Sweet je-" A Marine started to say.

"Stow it! Scan the area but do it quietly!" McKeal interrupted in a whisper. "Tac Lights off, ODSTs go to your VISR mode and take point! The rest of us will have to keep our eyes open. Use your lights only to get a quick look at anything suspicious."

"Staff," Floy said. "Burns to the body - plasma." The Marine reported.

Damn it McKeal thought. "Tornado One Actual, Tornado One Sierra - how copy?"

"Go ahead, McKeal." 1LT. Killinger replied.

"Covenant presence confirmed inside the crashed freighter, requesting orders."

There was a moment of pause: "You know what my father wants, Staff Sergeant. Get to the operations center at all costs."

At all costs? McKeal thought. Bad decision... sir "Yes sir, moving on. Requesting additional reinforcements. Covenant strength unknown and I only have sixteen Marines."

"You'll have to do with sixteen Marines, Staff Sergeant. That's plen-" Killinger was saying before McKeal muted the channel. He swore mentally. 'At all costs' meant that, even if they did meet resistance, they'd have to continue pushing forward until the last Marine fell. Perhaps the should be butter bar Lieutenant would change his orders at a later time, but McKeal was doubtful.

The Marines disappeared into the shadows as they traversed the large hanger, walked over corpses and checked for pulses frequently if a pool of blood or visible burn marks weren't visible. It was quiet, you could hear your own heart beat and certainly the raspy breathing of another human - particularly those of the near dead... and there were a few of them. No pleads for help, however, which meant life for those hard to breath civilians was coming to an end.

A light snapped on in the distance across the hanger, before shutting off immediately. McKeal's radio burped, "Staff Sergeant I've got a dead elite here. Black armor."

"Say again?"

"Black armor, Staff Sergeant."

Fuck.

"All Tornado One One elements be advised, potential Covenant spec-ops detachment in the AO. Stay alert and use every damned sense you have. Out." McKeal said, looking over to the rough area of Allens identification friend or foe tag.

A few minutes passed as the Marines cleared the hanger bay.

"Area secure!" A Marine reported, followed by two confirmations.

He better be worth it. McKeal found himself thinking as he returned to the hanger doors. "Sergeant Allen - it's clear, for now. Let's get you to the operations center!"

[rookie425]

After some some, Mav had come along with a hand saw. Vivian had been hoping for a powered device, preferably one that was specifically issued for impales, a common occurrence with the presence of Brute ground troops. She had been meaning to requisition one since her transfer, but held off on the idea that there would be a supply of them in the 7th Marines. She had been rushed to the field, however, and didn't have the time.

Looking up at the wounded Mariner with a face of empathy as she accepted the saw, she pulled a syringe from her A/FAK and popped the cap. "I'm gonna give you something for the pain. Trust me, you're going to want it in case we have to move you."

The Marine gave a weak nod, and when she placed the needle to his arm, he breathed out a relieved sigh within seconds of the polypseudomorphine reaching his bloodstream. She didn't leave much time for the man to prepare himself for what was next. The pain killers made him drowsy enough for her to pull a number of operations on him. Vivian did what she could to secure the wound with biofoam. Cutting him loose was going to run the risk of making him bleed and she didn't want the bar moving any more against his spine.

"Mav, hold the pipe steady."

As the Marine set his gloved hands around the rigid metal bar, Nyro counted with the bob of her head. Mav caught on a little too late but corrected his grip by the time she mouthed "three." Then, she started cutting. The motions were rough at first but once the saw blade was inside the pipe it didn't take much more strength to keep the cut steady. Halfway down, she started to smell the ionized aroma of heating metal. Couldn't stop now. The foam started to give at the center though, and some blood began seeping through the opening. She stopped abruptly, giving Mav a concerned look.

The Private's hands were still locked around the bar and she could see from the veins poking from the skin on his arms that he was putting effort into holding it. He looked her in the eye, raising both brows: I'm trying my best, God damn it.

"Hey," the Mariner said groggily, speech slurred as an effect from the pain meds. "You guys done? Cuz I was thinking we should go check out New Havana while it's still around."

Vivian stopped holding her breath. At least her patient wasn't in obvious distress. "Almost done, try to relax," she told him, picking up speed again with the saw.

"I mean really, lots-a girls. You got a uniform? You're taking three home per night."

Mav smirked, but avoided laughing as to stay focused on maintaining his grip. Nyro let herself smile as well. Let him have his distraction, she mused. Finally, the bar came loose, breaking off loudly. Nyro's heart stopped as she heard the man grunt as a reaction, but Mav kept his grip. It could have been a lot worse had it not been for him. Adding another layer of foam, she placed gauze and tape to fasten a hold around the object. "Alright, let's get him on the stretcher. Keep him to the side."

Before she could give a helping hand, Mav waved her off as he and two others strapped the man down. "You've done enough, Viv. We got the rest."

With a nod, she tore her gloves away and secured the M7 from her hip, putting a hand to her comm. "Staff Sergeant Blacklock, this is Nyro. Shipped one off to triage--I'm all clear."

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153 ODST
Glimmers in the light.

Kai stood watching the area intently, watching for any movement or glimmers in the light that betrayed an Elite while invisible but saw nothing, a voice suddenly crackled in his ear.
"Staff Sergeant Blacklock, this is Nyro. Shipped one off to triage--I'm all clear"
"Viv, this is Blacklock, keep an eye out, Elite Spec Ops have been spotted in the area. Keep an eye out for any glimmers of light in the area and if you see one, run for all your worth towards as many men as you can. I'm on my way to your position. Over" Kai said as he turned to walk back to Nyro's position.

[rookie425]

Nyro felt her heart stop when Blacklock's voice came through to report a Spec Ops presence. She had faced down Elites only a handful of times, managed a confirmed kill twice. To her knowledge, she was never even in the same AO as any kind of Covenant special forces and now here they were lurking around the corner. The real concern numbed her body as she turned around to see the rest of her Marine escort was seemingly gone, leaving a quiet, empty corridor.

"Copy that, Staff," she whispered whilst she turned around, knelt--stabilized herself against the doorway, and kept her aim downrange. "Make it quick."

[RiddL]

Staff Sergeant Kai (Wolf) Blacklock
153rd ODST
Troubles of rank...

Kai picked up the pace of his jog and bumped into another ODST, whose IFF read 'First Lieutenant Alexei Krevchenkov' and nearly swore at himself for it.

"Oh sh.. Sorry sir I'm in a rush gotta meet up with a doc who might be scared out of her mind and by the sounds of it, something is wrong" He said in a quick tone, relaying the importance of what he was doing.

First Lieutenant Alexei (Titan) Krevchenkov
153rd ODST
Tag along

Titan barely moved as the slightly smaller man bumped into him and started muttering an excuse to him. He perked up when he said that the something was wrong, he held up a hand to stop the Staff Sergeant and started talking with his strong russian accent, "Ok I understand the situation, you lead and I will follow you." he said and the Staff set off at a pace that he could easily follow and explained the situation, they weaved in and out of small corridors and arrived at the woman in about 3 minutes, he turned to his friend Sergei and said in a commanding tone,

"Have Hellfire and Spider keep their trigger fingers ready, we may have trouble on our hands at any moment."

"Yes Titan, you heard him boys shake a leg and move!" Sergei relayed to Hellfire and Spider, who both turned quickly and set up as quickly as they could.

Alexei turned to the Staff Sergeant and then to the woman, to which he started talking to, "My name is Lieutenant Krevchenkov, but that is ridiculously long so call me Titan, I need to know what happened to the others that were with you and then we have to leave." He said comfortingly.