The Hero's Ball (Closed RP)

[Llau]

Michelangelo Moretti
ONI Section III Field Operator
The Grand Ballroom
Surprise, surprise
Tag(s): Doc the Mother of Dragons


Moretti kept his dorky smile on his face as he looked at her, and then at the other couples who were dancing. “Yeah...good point,” he chuckled. Looking back at her, he nodded back in agreement. “Hmm. Yeah, true. Like most of the other couples on the dance floor.”

He grinned as he watched her place her right hand on his shoulder and then continued to hold her hand in his hand. He followed her gaze down toward their feet, and whispered to reassure her.

“Don't worry, I won't step on your toes,” He smirked as he raised his eyebrows for a moment. “Well, one way or another, I won't. Heh.”

It took his mind a few seconds to register what she said to him, and he gazed back up at her with a slightly confused expression, but then blinked, and glanced down at her hip.

“Oh! Right! Uh...yep,” he stammered a bit. “My right hand on your hip. Yep. My bad.” He breathed in and then gently rested his hand on her hip.

Despite his apparent nervousness, he smiled at her, and then he started to move around smoothly to the beat of the music, but started off slowly to make sure she was able to keep up, too.

“Huh...why would you look at that...” He quietly said to her, grinning. He spun around, keeping well within their spot on the dance floor. “We can dance if we want to. We can leave your friends behind. Cause your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, well, they're no friends of mine." He chuckled. "Okay, I'll stop singing before anything happens." Though, he stopped singing, he continued humming the song for a little longer, grinning at her as he danced rather skillfully with her. 

[Daenerys Targaryen]

ATTENTION

Diana Caldwell
The Grand Ballroom
The Duet

As Ricky's song finally drew to a close, Diana made her way back onto the stage in a full stride, a simple acoustic guitar held delicately in her hands. The musicians that had been accompanying the songs in the orchestra pit slowly lowered their own respective instruments, and seemed to relax a bit as Diana made her way over to Ricky. Keeping her eyes glued to the audience, the starlet passed on the guitar and offered the crowd a large grin. Couples that had been dancing on the main floor looked toward them expectantly. When was the last time I was like them. The thought flew through her head only briefly, and she quickly caught herself in her distraction. 

"This is for you." Spoke Diana and Ricky into the mic in unison, and has rehearsed, glanced toward each other with loving eyes. This song would be the last in their first set, and Diana was more relieved than anyone to finally be able to speak with her cousin. 

Valerie Cayla Jakande
ONI Deputy Director
The Grand Ballroom

Ryker's vice grip on the waiter would have made her jump, if she hand't already been expecting it. Unfortunately, Valerie wasn't psychic, but she hadn't expected Ryker to just belly up to her either. He was loyal, a trait that kept him alive far beyond his expected years, but as loyal as he was he was also stubborn. Valerie slowly waved a hand through the air above the dinner table, as if dismissing his behavior like that of a brick wall soon to be demolished. 


"It has been a painful end, to a slow and trying death I have been put against."



A small rush of water threatened to burst out of the older woman's nose as Terrance spoke, but she managed to keep that at bay with a polite cough. Slowly padding at her lips with a napkin, Valerie returned Ryker's cold gaze with her own wolfish grin. "Oh Terrance, this dress is expensive. Do not blow your smoke toward me." Her voice was laughing and lilting, as the admiralty around her sounded much the same. "How would you like to dance after our meal?" This time, it was a genuine question. 

[Doc the Mother of Dragons]

HN Samantha Jackson
The Sol's Jewel
The Grand Ballroom
You sly dork...
Tag: Llau


Samantha just laughed and shook her head as Moretti started leading her around the floor with the skills of someone who knew what they were doing. Ricky's song was still going as they danced on for a few more moments, "So ONI dork does knows how to dance." she said with a smirk. She couldn't remember the last time she danced with someone, not messing around dancing like an idiot to the radio, actually danced. It was nice, the whole ball ordeal, though hetic to get ready for, was a nice way to wrap up the cruise. 

No sooner did they start dancing did the music stop, Sam stopped moving, still holding Mikes hand, she looked over his shoulder to the stage where Diana had now reappeared, guitar in hard. A big smile lit up her face as she watched her cousin speak into the mic before starting to play the guitar, Sam reconized the song, it was a classic but still a good one. Couples around them started back dancing, this time much slower. She felt a blush starting to crawl up her neck as she looked to Mikes face, "Well this is a change of pace." she said with a nervous laugh. Swallowing she took a step closer to him and resumed the dance, still letting him lead, just this time moving slower because the song was slower. Her eyes went back to the stage where Diana and Ricky were singing together, looking every bit the part of duet; happy singers looking lovingly at each other. Yeah right, she knew the truth, Diana had gone on a rant one day. It was interesting. Sam sighed and closed her eyes, following Mikes movements she closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the music.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon Killinger
Taking leave...
... on the Sol's Jewel

John sighed, put down his empty liqueur glass, and looked over at his wife.

'No' was the look he got back in return from her.

Yeah, who wore the pants in this relationship? Well, it certainly wasn't John; when he did get to wear the pants from time to time... he still wasn't the dominant decision maker. Beth and the aged Marine had an excellent relationship with four loving children so John couldn't complain even if he wanted too.

He may have been a Colonel in the toughest branch in the UNSC... but he was also a married man. More often than not his man card was taken away because Beth wouldn't allow him to do something and damn it he wanted to get drunk, there was no point in sitting on a chair the entire night listening to classical music he didn't like. He didn't like music in general, it felt like noise assaulting his ear drum. He tolerated his MEU's 'official' theme song, even got a little attached to it, but he wouldn't buy the track himself.

His music was the rattle of distant or nearby assault rifles with the mixture of plasma whining. After so long in the military it felt like those tones were burned into his brain. He could tell the discharge of a plasma pistol compared to a plasma rifle, the distinct pounding of a Needler being fired, or the sizzle of a plasma grenade - but intertwined in those noises was the sound of death. Surely, once he left the Marine Corps, he'd be haunted by his experience... if he ever got out. Something kept on forcing him to resign his damn contract.

John looked back over at his wife, who had the same 'No' look as before, and decided he was going to get another drink with or without her approval. He stood up while straightening his tie and pants - hoping the ruse that he felt uncomfortable held - before slipping away with the classical 'slide to the side' move beyond his wife's reach. He hurried away from his starting-to-stand wife, mixed into the crowd, and looked over his shoulder.

Yeah, what did he expect. He was a six foot five giant trying to blend into a crowd of people less than his height. All his wife had to do was look for the shiny bald head as it strobe like a beacon as John walked under lights and towards the bars counter. He locked eyes with his wife. She shook her head, John grinned, and reached the bar stool.

He disappeared from her sight when he sat down, but she couldn't miss the flashlight on the top of his head.

[Cheddar]

ODST Corporal
Maxen Titus
The Grand Ballroom
Tags: Daenerys Targaryen



Maxen allowed himself to be guided from the dance floor. Felicity seemed intent on finding a table with that best view and since a duet was coming on stage soon and many patrons were flooding the dance floor, better and better seats had opened up. She focused on one and took it, the corporal sat across from her.

As soon as they touched the seat, a waiter showed up. As if the seats contained a hidden button that summoned the man. He stared expantantly at Felicity who appeared to pore over the menu. Maxen took his chance to scan the menu and settled on what he wanted. When he looked up, Felicity had finished ordering and both people were looking his way.

"I'll have the Pecan Butter Tilapia, the Garlic and Asiago Mashed Potatoes, and I think I'll have some of the Nebula 7 as well." He closed his menu and smiled at the waiter as he took it and left to get their food. Maxen turned his gaze back to Felicity and wondered which way their dinner conversation would go.

[TinCanHitman]

ATTENTION



Marcus 'Ricky Raltz' Bohannon 

The Grand Ball  

Centers of attention

 Marcus finished his song, allowing the guitar he had to gently hang around his torso as he gave the crowd his practiced smile. He took Diana's hand and walked to the front of edge of the stage and bowed with her. They both smiled and waved, and allowed the crowd to politely clap. It was the same as every where they went, crowds, lights, admiration, obsession, addiction, it was a cloud that flew over them. Some times that cloud lifted, and Marcus could see the sun, the reason he got into this, but most days it was gray. 

Marcus cast a glance over at Diana, trying to see past the mask of stardom and see what she was really thinking. These past few days he hadn't been able to do that, and it worried him. Diana was different, she'd changed, in a way that Marcus didn't understand. But when they were on stage, at least they looked to be a perfect pair. He waved and stepped to the side as the two spokeswomen for the cruise liner took the lead.

Yin and Xin Lee Cho 

The Grand Ballroom 

Wrapping Up

Yin and Xin both moved to the stage, their own smiles shining as they took the mic from Diana. "That was the lovley Diana Caldwell, and fabulous Ricky Raltz! A round of applause every body for their stunning performance!" Yin said as she used her hands to indicate the two singers, who were still smiling at the side of the stage. Suddenly, Xin began to speak "We thank you all for your attention, and thank you Ricky and Diana for the stunning performance. Now, we will have classical music to accompany the remainder of the evening!"

Teyo Triste 

Hero's Ball 

Working... 

Teyo sat, now at the edge of the crowd to the stages far left. He had gotten his duffle bag and removed the lock, and was now standing there, listening to his ear piece as the crew bustled behind the scenes to keep this floating extravaganza from falling apart. His crew, and others, were all focusing currently on the adjusting power levels, now that they could shut down the drones for the stage and the holo lights. They also were setting up the sound system because the orchestra was expensive and was now being replaced with downloads they had on the computer.

Teyo put the duffle onto his back, angled so the part that was slightly unzipped was under his right arm. He then took his personal data pad out of his pocket and pressed a few keys. He was suddenly patched in to the entire maintenance crew. "Alright, Miguel, it's over." he said as he walked towards the stage.

Deep in the maintenance tunnels, where Teyo and Miguel had set up the hard link to the power systems, Miguel tapped away at a small data pad attached to his wrist. Maintenance workers on every floor, that had been busy working, all checked their own select devices, and then quickly made their way about the floors. They all ducked behind bars, or into small supply closets, nothing really seeming out of the ordinary at first, but suddenly the power faltered. The Sol's Jewel was built so that in case of sudden depressurization, each segment of the ship closing off with thick titanium bulk heads, and having it's own auxiliary supply of power and air. A siren blared for one long moment and then suddenly all of the bulk heads came down. It was fast, and a majority of the crew was caught on the other sides of the doors.

Teyo walked up the elegant stairs to the stag, clapping as he walked. "Bravo! What an impressive performance." His voice echoed through the different sound systems through out the ship. Yin and Xin both frowned as they cast glances at each other, and Xin moved Towards Teyo. "Sir, this is fo-" Teyo cut her off as he stepped into a hard back hand, sending the girl sprawling to the ground. "I didn't ask you, bitch." he said with an icy glare. Security started to move towards the stage, M6's in hand, but A group of men came out of the maintenance hatch at the edge of stage. They all had weapons, old world ones of wood and steel, and they raised them at the security team. They all froze as both groups of people stood tensely, the crowd dead silent as they seemed to process the situation.

"Now, now, now!" Teyo said as he suddenly latched onto Xin's hair and dragged her to be in front of him. He reached into his duffle and pulled out an old double barreled scatter gun, pressing the barrels into her chin."Lets not get hasty!" The crowd let out a collective gasp as this happened, Teyo using the woman as a shield. Suddenly a small drone floated down from the ceiling, it's light flashing on and blinking. "You're on." Miguel said over the sound system.

"All through out life you are told 'Take initiative! If you are unhappy, change it!' how we need to take control of our lives and live the way we want...then why is it, when I take control, me, I am the bad guy? I follow what I was told as a child, make a difference. Be better, be smarter, all that...bullshit. Well I'm done letting people bully me, I'm done letting the UNSC tell ME how I should live. Who are they? They are bullies. Bullies with guns, and uniforms. They don't care about you, or me!" he said as he swept the old school scatter gun across the room, before letting the barrels touch his chest "Especially not me. They may listen to you!" he suddenly cried, pointing his gun at one of the cowering ore-tycoons "Because you have money.  No more. I-...WE are done."  

He looked out across the crowd as the under trained security seemed to struggle with what to do, they had never faced armed opposition before, and the majority of their forces were cut off. Teyo looked back at the drone "The UNSC ship Bull Pen is on the edge of this planet's orbit. I am now speaking to you. You will load fifteen of your pelicans with all of your armory's weapons and ammunition. As well as two of them will be loaded with archer missile pods. Finally, one shiva tactical nuke will be loaded onto a final pelican. Once that is finished you will take those ships, with only the pilots driving them, to the civilian freighter Brutus. Every hour that I do not get what I want I will execute one hostage. If I feel that any action has been taken against me, such as boarding, or even weapon's targeting, I will execute five."

He starred long and hard into the drone's camera before finally speaking "And for all you UNSC 'heroes' out there...this is for you." suddenly his shotgun went off, tearing through the scared twin's face. As she went limp the men who were in front of the stage blocking the guards began to fire, and the lights cut with the auxiliary lights took over. Screams erupted in mass as gunfire erupted on every floor as insurrectionist maintenance workers began their bloody fight with the security teams.

ANNOUNCEMENT

The real RP has begun! Fight, Hide, or escape, but remember, you have no weapons but what you can come up with, and are not organized. The security team is under trained, and under powered, only possessing M6's and M45 Tac shotguns. The insurrectionist are no better trained, but they out number you and they have better fire power. Have fun!

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: Sol System: Orbit of Jupiter: Day 4: Sol‘s Jewel: Grand Ballroom: Captain Mark “Spade“ Seamus Sorelson: Alpha Company, 120th MEU: Operation: Ball Interrupted]

“All throughout life you are told ‘Take initiative! If you are unhappy, change it!’ how we need to take control of our lives and live the way we want… then why is it, when I take control, I am the bad guy? I follow what I was told as a child, make a difference. Be better, be smarter, all that…bullshit. Well I’m done letting people bully me, I’m done letting the UNSC tell ME how I should live. Who are they? They are bullies. Bullies with guns, and uniforms. They don’t care about you, or me!”

“Especially not me. They may listen to you! Because you have money. No more. I- … WE are done,”

“The UNSC ship Bull Pen is on the edge of this planet’s orbit. I am now speaking to you. You will load fifteen of your pelicans with all of your armory’s weapons and ammunition. As well as two of them will be loaded with ARCHER missile pods. Finally, one SHIVA tactical nuke will be loaded onto a final pelican. Once that is finished you will take those ships, with only the pilots driving them, to the civilian freighter Brutus. Every hour that I do not get what I want I will execute one hostage. If I feel that any action has been taken against me, such as boarding or even a weapon’s targeting, I will execute five. And for all you UNSC ‘heroes’ out there…this is for you,” blared a voice from below, from the stage bordering the dance floor.

Grabbing his wife by the waist, he’d pulled her to the deck and had been glad he hadn’t chosen to join the masses on the dance floor below. The wood paneled railing that ran all the way to the floor, real wood over steel paneling since the company that financed the Sol’s Jewel had been able to afford and with that realization insured both Captain Walker, his family and Admiral Vardy had both taken cover. Letting his hearing gauging the time between the reports of the weapons and the largest concentration, the aging Captain knew the first priorities had been to see the non-combatants in the families to safety while hopefully at the same time requisitioning a few weapons without alerting the majority of the Insurrectionists. After this, if he’d survived he’d send a request to the designer of the leg to see about designing a concealed compartment within the leg itself similar to an old science-fiction film from the twenty-first century he’d seen on vid-disc at one time where the pro-antagonist had sported such a compartment in a full prosthetic leg.

Carefully scanning the area both adjacent to their table and for the telltale signs of heavy boot falls and finding the area had been clear of any insurrectionist activity, Mark gestured using field hand signals for both Malcolm and Admiral Vardy to move slowly while keeping their families quiet and to follow him. Keeping to a crawl, Mark made sure his back nor the others rose above the top leading edge of the wood paneled railing. He’d grown used to keeping low to the deck on planets witness to hostile Covenant forces including many in his early career against the Insurrectionists, but if someone had told him he’d be insuring the safety of his family and those of his friends on a luxury cruise liner in the Sol System he would have told them they were nuts. Scanning the area again with his eyes and ears, he’d noticed the doors to the ballroom even on this deck had been locked leaving Mark and his group with a few options. Stopping behind one of the wood paneled railings that still ran to the floor, he’d turned his head to the right to spot the doors leading to the upper galley had been left unlocked and better yet had been heavy to begin with and quiet. The ship’s galley, as any kitchen often had a supply of knives and other cutlery along with fire extinguishers, among other things that could at least be used as a weapon and often galleys had more than a few entrances leading to some of the other decks than simply a ballroom for safety purposes. If they had been able to use the galley without gaining notice from below, they’d be able to at least have access to the rest of the ship.

Gesturing to both Malcolm and Admiral Vardy, he’d relay the instructions to them and would let them know to be ready in case the Insurrectionists had planted a few of their own in the galley. With a quick look around, the aging marine took a quiet breath and darted to the heavy doors keeping low and slowly checked to see if the other side had been cleared first. Slowly pushing against the door just enough for him to catch the reflection of anyone on the other side of the door in any polished surface even as little as the metal sides of a salad cart without alerting the person or persons either, and much to his relief there hadn’t been a telltale reflection of someone nearby or one in the distance in the side of one such salad cart. Pushing the door open further, he’d quietly signal to the others to follow while keeping low. He’d managed to keep the door open a little for the others by placing a plastic crate between the door and the door frame before taking another careful look around the upper galley without letting himself be seen.

Keeping low, he‘d slowly take hold of a massive tray of cleaned silverware and carefully lifted it from one the counter near one of the galley‘s smaller sinks to set it on the floor beside him. The sound of heavy boot falls caught his attention, the all too familiar sound of thick rubber against tiled floor meant at least one Insurrectionist had been given galley duty and meant if that lone Insurrectionist had been curious enough or thorough enough to have checked the upper galley from end to end that the people following Mark wouldn’t have stood a chance. Gesturing quietly to Malcolm whom he had hoped had almost been to the door, he’d gestured to them to hold position and take cover. Counting each boot fall, Mark gauged how close the Insurrectionist had been and as the boots grew closer Mark held his action long enough for the Insurrectionist had almost stepped past him. The opening Mark had been waiting for presented itself with the man having his back towards him, apparently the Insurrectionist had been bored enough to have kept his view locked ahead and with a swift kick to the man’s legs the Insurrectionist fell quickly. Without a sound, Mark pounced on the man moving with more fluidity than his age would have told and with efficiency learned over more than a few decades pinned the man. It hadn’t failed Mark’s notice that the Insurrectionist attempted to reach out for his weapon, an old M14 rifle with a real wooden and steel finish that had slid from his grasp when he’d struck the tiled floor with a muffled thud. Snaking an arm around the man’s throat, and tightened his grip squeezing the man’s throat with little physical exertion on his part. The man tried to roll over in an attempt to pin the aging marine, but Spade fought the man knowing the Insurrectionist had almost been about to pass out from the sleeper hold. Although, if the man continued it may not have remained a sleeper hold.

A swift hard kick to the prosthetic leg had surprised the aging marine, but hadn’t even caused him to lose balance although it had surprised the nearly unconscious Insurrectionist. Without saying a word, not even a quick retort, Mark kept the sleeper hold intact and with a final attempt to knock the marine off of him the Insurrectionist tried to head butt him only for Mark to tighten the sleeper hold. The body of the Insurrectionist went limp beneath him, and with a quick check Mark had found the man still breathing although unconscious. Quickly reaching over to a pile of trash bags, he’d find some plastic ties and proceeded in tying the man’s hands behind his back. He'd tied an old dish towel around the man's head effectively gagging him and tied his feet with the other plastic ties. Padding the man down, he’d found an M6D with a few spare magazines in a holster on the man’s thigh, and confiscating the weapon with its magazines he’d grab hold of the sling for the M14.

Grasping it firmly in hand, Mark padded the man down again before turning him over to find two bandoliers of spare seven-point six-two fifty-one millimeter rounds. Snapping the rifle‘s receiver bolt back, he‘d found a round had been chambered with a full magazine attached and quickly policed the body placing it in the cabinets beneath the nearby sink. He’d even pocketed the com-device the Insurrectionist had used, but had powered it down to the most minimum levels. Checking the galley for other Insurrectionists, he’d returned to the door he’d come through and gestured to Malcolm or any of the others that the coast had been clear. Once everyone had cleared the doors, he’d keep the M6D with its spare magazines before offering the M14 rifle to anyone that had been a better marksman along with the two bandoliers of spare magazines for the rifle. Slapping one of the spare magazines into the body of the handgun hearing a satisfying click, he'd snap the receiver back chambering a round and pocketing the other spare magazine hiding it in an interior pocket of the jacket.

<Tag Bones, David Prime, anyone else that might have tagged along> .

[Llau]

Michelangelo Moretti
ONI Section III Field Operator
The Grand Ballroom
Innies always ruin things...
Tag(s): Doc the Mother of Dragons , Faclan


“ONI dork, huh?” He slowly grinned. “Heh. Sure...this ONI dork does indeed know how to dance. You can thank my mother for that. Of course...I haven't danced at a fancy party like this in ten or so years. Sometimes, when I'm home, Renny orders me to dance with her when she dresses up like a princess.” He chuckled at that. 

He continued to dance fluidly with her, smiling a little, and realized he was finally having fun right now. Now he was glad that he didn't drink so much at the bar. Soon enough, the music stopped, and he glanced up at the stage as the duet started. The music was slower, and when everyone started to dance in a slower pace, he felt even more nervous. Oh no, he thought. He slowly grinned a little when he heard her whisper to him about the change of pace. He chuckled nervously too, and gave her a slight shrug. He stepped closer to her as well, thinning the gap between them, and held her close as they started dancing slowly until the song finally ended. He pulled away from Jackson, gazing at her quietly, while the duet on stage did their thing. Smiling, he looked away from her, and started to clap his hands with everyone else to show his respect for the two singers.

Once he finished applauding them, he returned his attention to Jackson. “So...you uh...are you hungry, or do you want to dance a little longer before we...”

He trailed off when he heard someone talking, and looked over as an unidentified man walked up the stage, clapping his hands as he spoke to Xin and Yin, and everyone else in the ballroom. Moretti looked on, slightly confused at first, but was beginning to become concern the more he talked.

“Che cazzo?” He muttered, when Triste backhanded Xin, the field agent automatically stood in front of Jackson in a protective manner, lightly gripping her hand in his at his side.

He watched as the security started to move in, but stopped when the group of armed men exited out of the maintenance hatch at the edge of the stage. He blinked, tensing up as the situation unfolded in front of him. He continued to look on, appalled as the Innie grabbed Xin and pulled her in front of him, and then went on a rant about the UNSC. He tensed a little more when Triste carelessly swept the shotgun across the room, but didn't duck down. He continued to listen to him, as the man made his demands, but used that moment to back up into the crowd on the dance floor, quietly giving Jackson a look to move back as well in a casual manner.

"Relax...just walk...nice...and calmly away..." He moved her away, and once he felt that they were out-of-sight, and not in a crowd, he sent Hyde a text.

<< Chris. Keep Renny safe no matter what. Find a way down to the first floor and meet me. >>

“Dio maledetto, insorti. Giuro su Dio, se danneggiano la sua - se toccano un capello sulla testa il mio bambino della ragazza, io cazzo li ucciderò lentamente.” He muttered under his breath angrily. He then sighed, and began working on a plan.

He trusted his friend to keep Renee safe, but he still needed them to get down here safe and sound. If Hyde could get down here with Renee and find him without anyone noticing, that is. He taught him how to handle a gun and shoot them, but that was the extent of his training. He didn't have time to train him in everything, let alone on how to deal with this.

“Oh God...” he whispered, and then shut his eyelids tightly and said a quick prayer to keep himself hopeful of his daughter's safe return.

He then quickly looked up when the Insurrectionists started firing. He gazed at Jackson and whispered, “Are you okay? Hey?" He instinctively reached his hand to cover her cheek. "We need to find a way out of this room, but I need to find myself a weapon. Preferably, something to shoot back with.”

[LaxKnight]

Trisha Misriah
CEO of Misriah Armory
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, Main Level
Fucking Terrorists!
Tag(s):
 Faclan, Llau


Trisha’s eyes widened with slight shock on how quickly Chris guessed what company she headed. It was never too surprising that Misriah was one of the first guesses since it was the biggest weapons and armor manufacturers in the UEG but it was a feeling she could never get over. Before she could answer his questions however a cute little girl took a seat at their table. Apparently Chris knew the girl well for they did a high five and had a moment of small talk, leaving Trisha to simply observe the event. Chris introduced the girl as Renny and he introduced Trisha. “Hello,” she said with a little wave, “Nice to meet you.”

The girl was simply adorable. She had such pretty hair and her face screamed gorgeous. She will grow up to be a beautiful woman one day, Trisha was sure of it. Renny explained while she dug into the cake that her father was dancing with a woman bearing a robotic arm. Curious, Trisha scanned the dance floor and sure enough saw an awkward looking man dancing with a pretty woman with a robo arm. She returned her attention the two at the table.

“I am from Misriah Armory actually,” she said, “I’m trying to conduct a survey to see how our weapons and armor perform on the field. I figured asking for a first-hand opinion from the men and women who uses them in combat would be more valuable than numbers and graphs. I’m just trying to play it low so the paparazzi doesn’t come in and ruin it.”

She leaned in and said, “So now that you know why I’m here, this will hopefully go a little easier. So what weapons have you handled in the field? How do they perform? Want any improvements?”

The question hanged there for a moment until the music ended and a man took to the stage. What got her attention was the slap of one of the hostesses. Suddenly maintenance workers appeared from all sorts of places all armed with all sorts of weapons. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she realized what was going on. They were being taken hostage. It was a situation she had the displeasure of experiencing before. Being the daughter of the CEO of a biggest weapon manufacturer in the government tended to attract some more radical and/or insane groups in an effort to ‘convince’ them to supply them with weapons. The family’s security team was top notch but that doesn’t mean they were invincible.The first time she was taken hostage was when she was 6 when she and her mother were taken to force her father to supply them with weapons. Her mother was killed before a team of ODSTs rescued them. When she was 10 she and her dad were taken by Insurrectionists as hostages, being used to ransom the UNSC, when ODSTs were again called in to save the day. When she was 24 they were ambushed by a different group of Insurrectionists and taken for a time, killing her father in front of her for aiding the UNSC before the security team could save them.

To say that Trisha had a special hatred of terrorists would be an understatement. She ran the company to keep her deceased parents’ legacy going but she supported the UNSC in hopes that they will reunite Humanity and kill the same type of terrorist scum that took her parents years ago. Since her first encounter her father had her enrolled in self defense classes while after her second she learned how to handle firearms. She knows how to effectively handle every single weapon that Misriah Armory manufacturers so the next time they would try their luck she will be ready. It seems like that day would be today. However she hoped to keep her identity hidden for if the terrorist knew they had her in their mists then surely they will make an example out of her.

Their position at the side tables meant closer to security but also to the firefights. Trisha flipped the table up and gestured for the others to hide behind it as the sounds of gunfire filled the air. A body of a recently deceased guard collapsed over the booth. Though it was a gruesome scene, something no child should witness, she has seen such a sight when she was a child only it was her mother instead of a stranger. Images of her parents’ death flashed through her mind as her anger sparked and grew. The man had a M45E Tactical Shotgun. Uses 8 gauge magnum rounds and sports a 12 round internal magazine instead of some other variants. As grisly as the task was, she requisitioned the weapon and rounds then began filling up the magazine. She looked to Chris and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I take the weapon. You may be ONI but you don’t seem like the fighting type and I can assure you I have spent more time handling firearms than you.”

She pump the action, chambered the round with a satisfying click, and turned off the safety. “I’ve been around weapons all my life after all. Comes with being raised in the business,” she said with a slightly cocky smirk before turning to Renny, “You keep your head down, okay? We’ll take care of you while your daddy fights terrorists.”

Trisha peeked around the table, vigilant of any rounds coming their way or anyone within range of her righteous fury.


(Mick's post will come later. Gots to sleep.)

[Faclan]

Tags: Llau, LaxKnight

Christopher John Hyde.
ONI Section I Scientist, Xeno-Linguist.
Grand Ballroom, at a tipped over table.
Humans why? Why?!

Allowing himself a little happy clap when he guessed the company right, on the first try too, he smiled as Remmy explained what her dad was doing at the time. Chris wondering how many drinks Mike had had for him to willing go onto the dance floor with a person he had just met not that recently. As Remmy was talking however Hyde picked up the fork that was his napkin and swiped a piece of her cake to try it...damn it was good. Setting the fork down as Trisha spoke up again and he nodded understandably. "Makes sense that you would want to lay low, also talking about weapons out in the open to everyone probably wouldn't make you that popular." Smiling at Remmy again he hummed a bit with how best to answer that with Remmy sitting right there, shoveling the cake into her mouth as she did, but Mike was her dad so she had probably some talks about this kind of stuff before. He was sure Mike wasn't doing what his parents had done and giving Remmy tests to mold her into ONI material.

"Well on my most recent assignment I was using the M6C and the M7S, and ummm...both of them worked throughout all of it and the rounds came out when I needed them? Sorry but I don't go on Field Ops that often as I'm really just a Scientist for ONI. Mike would be a better person to ask these kinds of questions but I'm sure I could help if you perhaps gave me some more specific questions that just general." It was during this time he noticed that Trisha had stopped looking at him and was looking toward the stage, making Chris look over too just as the shotgun was pulled out and waved about. How old fashioned and quickly revealed to be very bad. However unlike Trisha his first thought wasn't rage or anger but more of disappointment as he moved back when the table was flipped and quickly took hold of Remmy to move her behind it.

Really? Really Humans? This, this right here, was one of the reasons he couldn't see why his fellows hated aliens so much. If they had an issue with you they told it to your face, and if they wanted a fight you would know about it. But it seemed that Humans were the ones most likely, and did so often, lead you along thinking everything was fine before suddenly guns and betrayal. Ugh, screw Humans.

He was brought from his condemnation of his species by Remmy's scared voice asking what was going on, and a message from Mike. Glancing at the thankfully short message he nodded at it and sent back a simple reply with a 'K' before he turned to Remmy. "We are being held hostage by Bad people Remmy. We need you to stay quiet and follow us so we can get you back to your dad ok?" No use in lying to her when they were in the danger zone as she looked scared but then nodded as she took tight hold of Chris's hand as he turned to face Trisha. He just nodded at her statements before trying to suggest a plan.

"Go for it, I'll look after Remmy. Mike sent me a message and wants us to head down to the first floor to meet with him. He probably has a plan so we should probably head down." He said quietly, doing well not to show his own fear at the situation. But despite his scientist job he had a decent amount of training with ONI and Mike had been doing his fair share of training too.

[John]

Captain Malcolm Walker
Company B, 120th MEU
Fuck

Captain walker had seen the Admiral approach and gave him a respectful nod to acknowlegde his presence. Then he went back to talking with his family while his fellow Captain turned to speak to the Admiral.

Then a voice was heard from the stage. He made demands, and executed someone. Immediately, Malcolm took his wife's hand and dropped to the ground. His kids followed his example, and they all took cover behind the table. He looked at Mark, and saw that he signaled for them to move slowly, and to keep the family quiet.

Malcolm raised his arm and put his finger on his mouth as he looked at his family. They knew they had to be quiet. They followed Mark and as they took cover behind the railing, he too saw the doors to the galley. He exchanged looks with Mark, and followed the man as he darted through the doors. He left his family there. He wanted to make sure it was clear before he moved them in.

While Mark found something to keep the doors open, Malcolm went to search for weapons. He quickly took cover as he heard the boots of a soldier. He peeked up to see that Mark quickly and quietly took him out. He came out from his cover and signaled for the families to come. Quickly. Then he took the M14 from his friend, and slung the ammunition over his shoulder.

"Allright. First we need to find a place where our families can hide. Then we can go after the bastards. Any suggestions?" Malcolm asked.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon Killinger
Taking leave...
... on the Sol's Jewel

John moved back towards his wife, who was now standing near the railing that looked down onto the ball room dance floor at the commotion that had started. A crazed man, ranting about something John didn't hear in his annoyance, was shouting it seemed to a floating drone. Beth looked worried, pointing out what the man had. John saw it, a old school classical weapon, more specifically it looked like one of those shotguns you saw on the holographic videos that immersed you with the action.

"What is he saying?" Beth asked.

"I think we just become hostages, Beth." John said sternly, listening in as the man continued on. The man referenced killing hostages every hour if his demands weren't met by the UNSC. He mentioned he'd kill five if he learned that a UNSC ship had targeted them. How could he know if a ship thousands of kilometers away was looking at you?

"What?!" Beth said, instinctively backing away from the railing.

John grabbed her, "It's not as bad as you think it is. Listen to his demands. They want weapons and ammunition. We're on the third floor so the hostages he kills will likely be UNSC first and the floor above us is where the majority of the important officers are. I'm not in uniform but..." John stopped, reaching up towards the back of his head with his free hand. He felt his neural lace and realized that he was fucked either way. It identified him as a UNSC soldier or in the past had been one. "...everything is going to be okay." He added.

Then the shot rang out, the lights died to be replaced by a yellow glow. Emergency lighting right above the stage, but it left the third floor with poor visibility. Beth screamed but John slid his hand over her mouth and slowly backed away while he had the chance. Gunfire erupted all over the place, which was ironic. Just moments ago he was thinking how this was his music. It wasn't automatic gunfire like a MA5 Series, but it was close enough. The boom of shotguns, the clack of rifles and the bass of magnums discharging as the firefight ensued.

"John!" Beth screamed into his hand. He grasped his wife tight, but truth be told he was scared as well. He trained to fight the insurrectionists as an officer but instead was deployed against the Covenant. That training had practically disappeared - pushed into the back of his mind, replaced with the knowledge of how to face the Covenant in battle as an officer. His Force Reconnaissance training kicked in. His darker complexion and black suit, pants, shoes and tie would help him stay concealed with the dim light. He didn't have long, however, eyes adjusted.

"What do we do?" Beth asked, her voice shaky.

"You need to hide. I'll find you a vent or something. As for me... I gotta fight back, it's my duty. These are civilians of the UNSC and I have no doubt other soldiers will be arming themselves by what ever means they can." John said. Beth would normally protest the idea and John knew vents were a popular destination in video games and other movies but they actually did work. They were numerous and in order to check every single vent they'd need a significant force to achieve the task. The trick was finding a vent that wasn't obvious, but not so out of the way it would almost need to be checked by the people who had started the gunfight.

John lead Beth through the cluttered group of dispersing people, moving quickly and slightly crouched to avoid standing out. He reached the bar, grabbed two martini cups, and broke the bottoms off. He grasped Beth's open hand and put one of the makeshift weapons in it. "You may have to kill someone. Don't get caught, okay?" John said. Unfortunately, there was no vent nearby, so John would have to find another reasonable place.

And he'd have to do it quick, people wouldn't be screaming for much longer as soon as people stopped screaming his cloak would dissipate. He was using the chaos to move around, trying to control his own emotions but as well as the situation for Beth and himself. He was scared, so was Beth, but the difference he learned in staying calm during overwhelming situations was helping.

"Come with me." John said, pulling his wife along. People were running towards the exits but the fact the floor felt just as crowded as before indicated that they had been blocked. His alternative plan was to retreat towards the restroom to hide Beth in the overhead vents. He was too big to fit in them but she wasn't, and the washroom was an unlikely place for someone in panic to retreat too - at least that's what he thought.

[Doc the Mother of Dragons]

Amelia O'Connel
Award Winning Reporter
The Sol's Jewel
Grand Ballroom

Amelia had been standing at the railing of the second floor, she had been organizing her notes as she watched the concert and the dancers on the main floor. While she had yet to talk to Miss Caldwell, O'Connel still had a good bit of other things she could write on, though nothing was really want she wanted. As the concert ended the red head looked up from her data pad and watched the twin Asian girls reappear on the stage, Amelia moved her hover camera a little as to get a better angle of the stage; mainly to get a better shot of Ricky and Diana holding hands. That was the money maker.

A sly smile crossed her face as she watched the two, not really paying mind to the rest of the stage till a new voice spoke, drawing her attention. The man was not formally dressed and carried a duffle bag, keeping her camera on the stage she watched as he viciously slapped one of the girls before pulling out what looked like a shotgun..just a very old one. Amelia froze, her breath catching in her throat as she listened to the man speak, before shooting the young woman he had been holding in the head. Like many others, she couldn't help but gasp in horror as the violent action.

Suddenly gunfire came from everywhere, Amelia spun away from the railing to see the ships security team fighting back against a rather large number of Insurgents. Her eyes darted about looking for some cover, but she was too slow. She cried out in pain as a horrible pain came from her left arm, Amelia imediatly covered the area with her hand and felt something warm and sticky. Not having anywhere to hide she ducked down behind the railing and leaned against the wall, taking a few shaky breaths she closed her eyes. Telling herself all the while that her wound was not that serious. Letting her breath out she opened her eyes and looked over to her left arm. The reporter cried out again as she saw the blood covering her hand, it looked like the bullet hadn't entered her arm but instead had hit the outer part of her arm, taking out a good chunk of muscle and flesh.

The shooting went on. Her arm was still bleeding as she tried to apply preassure to get it to stop, she didn't dare rick going for something to help stop the bleeding. It would be her luck that she ended up riddled with bullets. Keeping her right hand on her bleeding arm, she used her left to work her data pad; with a few key strokes she had her hover camera do a slow spin. The small device took footage of the shootout and the panic that had taken over the crowd. Screw trying to talk to Diana Caldwell. If Amelia made it out of this alive she would have a far better story than one about a stupid starlett. This would be talked about for years to come, and Amelia planned on recording everything she could.

---

HN Samantha Jackson
The Sol's Jewel
Turn out the lights the party's over...
Tag: Llau

As the song ended she turned to face the stage and applaud Ricky and Diana, standing beside Mike she watched as the Asian twins walked back out on stage, she didn't realize he was looking at her. The two young women gave some more announcements about the music, she was still looking at her cousin, standing poised and perfect, when Mike asked about food.

Turning her head she looked at him for a moment before looking back at the stage to see what Diana was going to do. "Those crab cakes sound-" Samantha trailed off at a new person walked onto the stage, one of the twins began to tell him to leave but the man silenced her with a hard slap. Mike moved to stand in front of her, her hand still in his she gave it a hard squeeze, Sam watched over Mikes shoulder as the events on stage unfolded. Her blue eyes went from Tayo over to Diana and then back again; there was no way in hell that this was apart of the programming.

Shit had hit the fan and with the arrival of the armed workers only told her that things were about to get worse. Mike motioned for her to start slowly moving backwards, Sam did so, though keeping her eyes on the stage as Tayo kept talking; it was easy to tell by his tone that he was not messing around. They managed to get to the back of the crowd, Mike typed away on his datapad, suddenly the gun Tayo held went off and Sam cried out as she watched the twin he had holding head explode in a mess of blood and tissue. Jackson was used to various types of injuries and even dead people, but that usually happened on the battlefield and usually the people they were fighting were not fellow humans. She jumped a little bit as gunfire started and people started screaming, caught in the crossfire between the Insurgents and the security guys.

"Are you okay? Hey?"

Sam jumped a little bit at Mikes touch, she bit her lip for a second before looking at him, her eyes moving up to his. “I have to help people..I need to get to Diana.” she replied in a quavering voice. A thought crossed her mind after hearing him speak of getting a gun, reaching up she took Mikes hand from her face and held it tight in her right hand, “You don’t need to get yourself shot, no need to paint a target on your back when it's obvious these guys hate the UNSC.” she told him firmly, “But at the same time you need to get to Renny..” she glanced up to the second floor where they had last left the little girl. No doubt she was scared out of her mind.

A woman in a bright red dress was frantically running past where they were crouched, she was screaming and looking about like a frightened animal. She started to run away from the stage but stopped for a second and looked around, as she was starting to move again her body jerked as a bullet ripped its way through her neck, severing everything in its path. She fell to the ground a heap less than five meet from Sam and Mike; blood started to flow from the gaping wound in the ladies neck. Jackson knew she was just one of what she assumed would be several people killed by the shootout.

[LaxKnight]

CPL Toby ‘Mick’ McMillian Jr.
153rd ODST
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, Dance Floor
Fucking Terrorists!
Tag(s): No one

The next song was much slower and with it so were the couple. They drew in closer to each other as they slowly turned in an infinite circle. Eventually Val’s head settled on Mick’s shoulder as he held her close and he laid his on hers. It was romantic, if not touching, scene for any to bear witness, almost out of a movie or picture. Anyone who knew the ODST wouldn’t think of him being capable of such a feat.

Mick doesn’t listen to this type of music but listening to the sober lyrics began to affect him. He wished he could be a million miles away with his girl. Away from this stupid ball, away from the UNSC, away from the war, away from all the death and destruction caused by aliens hellbent on their extermination. He just wanted to be with her and spend to rest of their time together. It seemed more of an impossible task as time goes by but he won’t stop fighting. It was times like this picture perfect moment that made it worth fighting for.

“I missed you,” she whispered to him. Mick felt his eyes water for a moment. She has said several times during this trip but never has it felt so powerful until this moment. It made him realize just how much he missed her, how fighting to stay alive was all for her. It was her that got him through all of those times when he thought about giving up, things look hopeless, or he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. She was his light in the darkness. And now here she was in his arms at last. He knew he will have to, but he never wanted to let her go again. He wished this moment could last forever. “I love you,” he said.

When the music ended the looked into each other’s eyes. At that moment Mick knew. It was time. He reached into his pocket, a move that caused a look of confusion on Val’s face until he started to get on one knee. Mick looked into her eyes and opened the box he had as she brought her hands up to her mouth while she gasped. “Valery Temple, will you ma…” he began but he was interrupted by the sudden flash of the lights that were replaced by the emergency ones.

He looked to see a man issuing out his demands to a camera with a shotgun in hand. FUCKING TERRORISTS!, he thought in anger, Can’t catch a break! Interrupt me in the middle of my fucking proposal! “Fuck him!” Val shouted, “Finish!”

He loved this woman. She wouldn’t let a hostage situation get in the way of her engagement. “Marry me!”

“Yes!”

“Good!” Mick took out the ring and jammed it on her finger. She gave out a squeal of joy that was quickly interrupted as he took her hand and started leading her off the dance floor. It was by far the worst place to be add for it offered no cover and would be a massacre if shooting started. They were almost off it the shotgun blast initiated the firefight. Val yelped as Mick went from fast to sprint as he went to one of his favorite places in the world, the bar. Fortunately for them the bartenders weren’t part of this charade and those that were got killed off pretty quickly. What bartender didn’t have a weapon behind the counter after all? When they reached the bar, the couple dove over the bar counter. Val ended up landing on top of the much larger man. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment and she giggled. However the click of a shotgun ruined the moment. He rolled her off just when a bartender pointed a shotgun at him. “Whoa!” Mick said with his hands up, “ODST! Look at the uniform!”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s chaos out there!” he said.

“Is this is what it’s like on missions?” Val asked over the din. Mick looked up to see that while his new fiance seemed a little frazzled but overall not panicking or scared. He was proud of her because of it. “No. I’m not wearing my sexy suit and this attack would have ended by now,” he cockily joked.


(Mick's part as promised)

[TinCanHitman]

Teyo Triste  

Hero's Ball  

Cat's outa the bag

Teyo had stepped back to be further from the edge of the stage, not wanting some cocky rent-a-cop taking a potshot and getting lucky. No, Teyo's plans were much bigger than that, and he couldn't afford to die here. Reaching and pressing the ear piece he spoke "Masks, we don't need more publicity." he said before dropping his duffle to the ground and removing his coat, he was going to need the mobility. He usually would be wearing his jumper, like he'd expected, but instead they had insisted his people look 'presentable' and so instead most of them wore button down shirts and dress pants with bullet proof vests or what ever armor they could scrounge pulled over.Teyo rolled up his sleeves and took out a simple bandanna, wrapping it around his face and moving to a standing position.

He looked out over the dance floor and saw that all of the security in the middle of the floor had been killed, with only the hall and other three floors fighting. Teyo snapped his fingers a few times as he stepped off the stage and into the midst of his freedom fighters. They were all eager, all savage, and all loyal. They believed Teyo when he spoke of change, and had believed him enough to follow through with this. They parted a bit to show that one of them had been shot, a man named Patrick, a simple creature who preferred books to violence, but showed an affinity for both. Teyo felt his heart strain with the weight of being the leader, and he wanted to walk away, leave it to some one else, this pain of passing, but Teyo did not.

Teyo fell to his knees and brought his brother into his arms. "You'll be alright, you'll be alright." he said as the man shuttered in his arms. Patrick had several eight gauge pellets in his torso and was losing blood rapidly. He managed to get a bit whiter as Teyo leaned in and kissed his thick locks of hair.  The man suddenly grabbed Teyo by his vest, dribbling blood as he pulled himself closer to him. "I-It's to soon...I can't." Teyo couldn't tell if it was blood or tears now streaking down the man's face, but either made Teyo's blood turn to ice, one more decent man stripped of his life, by the UNSC. Patrick started to convulse harder, and the rest of the group moved in to hold him down, as a few still remained on watch. After a bit of a struggle Patrick finally died, eyes staring into the black abyss of the ceiling, and of this plane.

Teyo simply stood and looked away from it, climbing the stage and trying to regain his composure. He looked over his personal guard and brought his hand up, pointing into the ground. "Five, bring me five of them, alive." He turned to one of the other men at his side "You, go to the back, get the coats." The man knew what Teyo meant and immediately went into the back. Teyo turned and walked over to Diana and Ricky.

"You had a lovely show, now, if you please." he said using his shot gun to point to the back stage area "I'd hate to do some thing drastic to you...idols." He added the last bit with an obvious edge of sarcasm. Even with the sarcasm he still had three men with guns pushing the two pop stars, and one twin, to the back. He gave one final glance from the curtain, then moved away into the shadows.

Marcus 'Ricky Raltz' Bohannon  

The Grand Ball   

"Idol"

Marcus was not only shocked, he was horrified, to his core, when he saw that poor girl's head just...explode. He couldn't process the situation, and was simply staring with wide eyes as the man went on about the UNSC. It was to much for Marcus and he stumbled a bit, but the cold barrel of a gun in his spine made him suddenly come back to reality. He looked behind him and two men with guns were there, ready to blow his chest open at the first sign of a escape attempt. It caused his hands to get sweaty, and for him to tremble. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want to be some terrorist's prisoner, or bargaining chip. He watched as Teyo seemed to mourn over a dead terrorist, then lead him and Diana to the back, calling them 'idols' in a rude tone. 

Marcus was just flustered by all of it, and to suddenly be pushed backstage with guns pointed at him he began to crack a bit under the sudden pressure. He grabbed Diana's hand, still staring forward without a word, he just needed familiarity. 

Terrance Ryker  

Hero's Ball  

Innies....

Ryker was drinking from his glass, giving it a disgusted look because he swore they had watered it down, when the excitement started. A man had walked onto the stage, made demands, started a stand off with security, then killed one of the hostesses. Ryker was deathly quiet the entire time as he watched the scene unfold, the only thing still showing that he was alive was the vein in his neck, pulsing aggressively as he chewed the cigar. When the fire fight started he was on his feat, scooping up one of the fancy forks from the table. He moved to the other side and flipped the table, like many of the other combat tested UNSC members on this floor. He pulled valarie down behind it, not even listening if she was complaining. Ryker was 'on' now, and was to busy scanning his surroundings. "We have to get you out of here, I'll be damned if the god damn assistant director dies while I'm here." he said, gruffly before ducking back as a bullet whizzed by his head.

"Keep low." he added before moving to another over turned table, dragging Val with him by the hand.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: Sol System: Orbit of Jupiter: Day 4: Sol‘s Jewel: Grand Ballroom: Captain Mark “Spade“ Seamus Sorelson: Alpha Company, 120th MEU: Operation: Ball Interrupted: Upper Galley]

“Alright. First, we need to find a place where our families can hide. Then, we can go after the bastards. Any suggestions?” Malcolm asked.

“We need to get off this deck, first of all. We don’t know how many Insurrectionists there are, but a good bet holds the majority would be downstairs in the main ballroom. I think I counted about forty heads before taking cover, at least and with a boat this size perhaps only a decent chunk of the maintenance crew. Their overalls gave them away. Most of the ship‘s security was down below in attendance, and if the dwindling sounds of gunfire are of any indication most of them have been taken out already. We’re bound to encounter the rest of their friends on the other decks, and if we can avoid them while insuring the safety of our families with the addition to any stragglers we find along the way the better,” Mark replied before turning his attention to their wives and Malcolm‘s kids while keeping his voice low enough to only be heard by the group.

“The Admiral, and Malcolm already know the routine, but I want the rest of you to flush any doubts you may have out an airlock. Get rid of it. Keep your fear. If you‘re afraid, it means you‘re still alive. If Malcolm, the Admiral or I signal for us to stop, you stop. You stay quiet. Sarah, Nathan…I hate that you’ve been put in this position. Trust me. We’re going to have to move fast, and quiet. No screams, no grunts, no shouting and no talking. If you see a friend, try to get their attention if you can. If you cannot, if there are Insurrectionists…men with old fashioned weapons near them, get myself or Malcolm or the Admiral’s attention. The more civilians we save, the better and the less leverage those punks in there have. If you see a boobytrap, mine, tripwire…you’ll know it when you see it or anything out of the ordinary, leave it. Don‘t touch it. If you have the unfortunate luck of stepping onto a pressure plate and you see something strange nearby, let us know quietly. Do not move from it,”

“I won‘t lie to you, but there will be blood and there will be dead bodies. Don‘t scream. If you see a body, take a deep breath. I wish we could have spared you from this, and if I’m being a hard…jerk I’m trying to keep us all alive including the two of you. Do I have your complete understanding? Nathan, we‘re going to need you to be an extra set of eyes,”

“I know it‘s not a UNSC tracker or HUD, but I did manage to confiscate our friend‘s com-device. It looks like one of our old ones, but it‘s been rather heavily beaten by the weather or use. I‘m sure we can avoid Insurrection patrols, and gather intel from it all the same. Those without a weapon, find something to arm yourselves with. Preferably two things if you can manage, one with reach and one for close up. If not, find something that you‘ll be able to fight close quarters with and keep it on your person,” he said, holding the com-device or portable walkie-talkie he’d confiscated from the Insurrectionist that lay sleeping peacefully bound and gagged under one of the kitchen sinks. He’d held it to where Malcolm, or the Admiral could take a look at it and maybe see something in the device he hadn’t considered.

<tag Bones, David Prime, anyone else that tagged along>

* * * * * *

[Enclosed Galley Stairwell: Second Landing]

An M3 Grease Gun, its cylindrical design resembled an old mechanic’s grease gun from the mid-twentieth century sat beyond Mark’s grasp and with it outside the grasp of the burly Insurrectionist that had been too curious for his own good with whom the aging Marine struggled with. Mark or Malcolm had managed to find a stairwell leading from the upper galley to the lower decks, but there had been a pair of doors leading to the galleys on the other decks and Mark had been forced to keep an eye out on those doors in case Insurrectionists or any of the ship’s crew or the guests had managed to stumble onto them. If there had been other guests that had managed to make it that far from the main ballroom floor, Mark and the others knew they’d be able to at least improve their chances by increasing their numbers and if in the likelihood there had been a few marines in that mix then so much the better.

Unfortunately by the time the group had cleared the second floor landing and Mark had opted to keep watch on the doors, their luck had almost run out. A burly Insurrectionist, a man that Mark knew by glance had the arms of a body builder either professionally or by a result of his trade had been roughly a foot taller than Mark and whom had been armed with a rather archaic though no less effective weapon. The man’s weapon had been an M3 Grease Gun, something Mark hadn’t personally handled but knew by reputation from the older marines and from the historical discs that the weapon chambered a forty-five caliber ACP round and had been designed both for automatic fire and for burst fire, meaning that Mark had to put the man out of action before he’d been able to squeeze off a round. Quickly gesturing to Malcolm and the Admiral to get the other sunder cover of the opposite stairwell, the aging Marine quietly pulled the slide back on the M6D Magnum and waited for the door to open. The burly Insurrectionist slowly opened the door with the barrel of the Grease gun leading, but Mark hadn’t given the Insurrectionist a chance to approach the hiding place of the group. Letting the door close behind the man, Mark quickly reached out and let his free arm snake around the man’s neck although the Insurrectionist had been quicker or at least more cocky. Reaching up with his left hand, the Insurrectionist had grabbed hold of the arm around his neck and attempted to toss Mark with that arm.

Unfortunately, the Insurrectionist hadn’t counted on Mark to have slipped his legs around the burlier, younger man and an intense struggle ensued. With his legs wrapped tightly around the man’s torso, Mark had insured the Insurrectionist hadn’t been able to toss him like a rag doll since the aging Marine had known if he’d landed on his back in front of the Insurrectionist he’d most likely be dead before bringing his own magnum to bear. Keeping quiet, Mark kept up the pressure antagonizing the younger man knowing a single mistake or over eagerness often led to the failure of an operation or death. He’d let the younger man make the mistakes while keeping his own composure, but while Mark had managed to keep the upper hand so to speak the younger man slammed Mark up against a nearby wall hard in an attempt to dislodge him. In the process, the man’s grip on the antique weapon had been loosened and the M3 Grease Gun had slid across the floor out of the grasp of either of them. The M6D Magnum had also dropped from Mark’s grasp in the ensuing struggle, but after sliding across the floor the Magnum had come to rest well within his wife’s reach. The lethal piggyback, with Mark holding on for dear life while the Insurrectionist attempted to knock him out by slamming him against the walls repeatedly seemed to drag on for what had felt an eternity for the two combatants. Neither one of them had dared tire, or loosen their grips, as both were determined to see the other either dead or subdued. A result of Mark's tightened grasp and efforts, he'd kept the Insurrectionist quiet and had prevented him from calling out for reinforcements.

<tag Bones and David Prime >

[Llau]

Michelangelo Moretti
ONI Section III Field Operator
The Grand Ballroom
Tag(s): Doc the Mother of Dragons TinCanHitman Faclan LaxKnight


“You don’t need to get yourself shot, no need to paint a target on your back when it's obvious these guys hate the UNSC.” she told him firmly, “But at the same time you need to get to Renny..”

Moretti stared at her long and hard. Eyebrows creasing slightly, he replied, "You don't need to get yourself shot either," He slowly looked over to the woman in the red dress who was just shot in the neck, and frowned. It was chaos in the ball room, and he really needed to find Renny. He shook his head slowly, and then gazed back at her with a rather focused, deadpan expression on his face now.

"We'll need you after the situation ends. So, only save those who aren't that bad off in their injuries right now, and ignore those who are beyond saving...and try to keep out-of-sight," He told her. "I imagine these scumbags won't be too happy to know that there's a doctor in here, trying to fix people who they shot. Be careful, Samantha."

He gazed at her for a few more minutes before pulling his hand out of hers, and then gently patted her shoulder before looking around the table they were hiding behind. He sent Hyde a quick message, saying he was going to meet them upstairs instead to get them out. While this was going on, Renee was gazing around, frightened, and wanting to see her father again, since he would make her feel safer. The little girl suddenly ran off from Hyde and the woman he was with, but only to run straight into the arms of an armed terrorist. She gasped and screamed for her father, but there was so much noise at the time that he couldn't hear her.

Moretti then spotted a very sharp looking steak knife and grabbed it off of the table, along with another one that he hid on himself, and gave her a final glance before quickly and quietly moving away in a crouch walk; heading toward the staircase that would lead him to the next level. He stopped when a terrorist spotted him, and quickly ran over to him with a gun pointed at him. 

"Hey! Drop the knife!" The man ordered him. 

The field operator slowly stood up, looking at the knife that he didn't hide on his person. "Oh, this knife?"

"Yeah, you an idiot?"

"Nope..." He dropped the knife to the floor, eyeing it for a moment as he raised his hands up as the Innie cautiously moved closer to him. 

"Boss wants some hostages..." He started to search him, and once he felt the knife in Moretti's belt, he scoffed, "Nice try, jack-"

Moretti didn't give a chance to finish his sentence to him, as he quickly grabbed the man's head with both hands and snapped his neck as he twisted his head in an odd angle that wasn't possible for the human neck to turn. The man's body collapsed, and the ONI operator bent down to pick up the terrorist's weapon and checked it out. 

"Thanks for the weapon, idiot..." he whispered with a slight smirk on his face. 

He soon continued on his way toward the staircase, staying low, but kept the rifle at the ready position. When he was halfway up the steps, he paused. His body tensed when he saw one of the Innies heading down, holding a struggling Renee in his arms. When she saw her father, he screamed out to him, "Daddy!"

Her father's eyes widen, but he continued to focus on the terrorist; aiming the gun up at the man. "Let her go! Now!"

"Oh? This your daddy, little girl?" The terrorist asked her, holding her tighter in his arm, while he pressed his handgun against her temple. "It's a shame that you brought her with you on this cruise." A chuckle. "Try anything, and I will splatter her brains all over the place."

"What do you think I will do to you then?" Moretti responded coldly. He slowly backed down the steps, keeping his gun trained on him as the man continued down the staircase with a smug look on his face. 

"I don't think you'll do anything, man..."

"Yeah?" He glared at him, watching as the man slowly headed over to where Triste was currently located. He then muttered, "I'm going to kill you bastards if you harm her."

"Teyo, look at who I found," the man said to Triste, and showing him Renee as if she was some kind of prize. He laughed at her struggling against his grasp. "She's a feisty little one...probably gets it from her old man." He nodded over at Moretti, who was cautiously approaching them, but ended up stopping when a few of Triste's men surrounded him.

"What do you want to do with him, sir? Want us to kill him or make him watch?" 

[Doc the Mother of Dragons]

HN Samantha Jackson
The Sol's Jewel
The Grand Ballroom
"Nec temere nec timide"
Tags: Llau TinCanHitman Daenerys Targaryen

Staying crouched behind the table she watched Mike quietly move away, the shooting had stopped on the main floor. But she could still hear gunfire and screams coming from the floor above. Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she was used to dealing with the pressures of combat, but something about this whole situation scared her. Maybe it was the fact that the people who wanted to kill them wasn't the Covenant, but humans. 

Her moment of peace was broken buy the sound of someone walking close to where she was crouched, moving slowly she started to glance around the edge of the table; a masked man slowly was walking past, his eyes moving to the civilians who nervously stood around him. He walked past the table and Sam let out the breath she had been holding in, she didn't want to draw attention to herself as she checked on the injured. 

While she was planning where she would move next she did not see the Innie from before walking back by, this time he saw her where she was crouched, Sam didn't see him. The man shifted his gun to one hand and reached over the table, grabbing Sams hair he roughly jerked her up and around the table. Sam swore as her hair was yanked, and the pain didn't stop. The Innie kept pulling her by her hair as he started to pull her towards the stage; "Let go!" she yelled, reaching up she grabbed his wrist with her right hand and squeezed, for once she was thankful for the added strenght of the prostetic. She pulled the mans hand away from her head and let go, looking up to the man she opened her mouth to say something but didn't get the chance. His hand connected with her face in a very hard slap, that hurt worse than him jerking her hair; Sam's face burned and she was sure she tasted blood. 

This time the Innie was sure to grab her right arm, he twisted it hard behind her back and to make sure she didn't fight him this time he pressed the barrel of his gun into her back, she knew if he pulled the trigger there was no way anyone would be able to save her. Shotgun pellets shredded tissue bad enough with fired a few feet away, they would decimate anything any closer. "We need five of you." he told her as he started pushing her towards the stage, Sam saw a few others being forced towards the stage like her, though none seemed to have been slapped like she did. The main Insurgents words echoed through her head as they reached the stage; one of his men died...five of them would follow. Action had been taken against the terrorists; on her way to the stage she saw the body of one of them laying in a pool of blood. 

Sam's eyes scanned the stage looking for Diana and Ricky, but they had vanished along with the head Innie, she only hoped they were okay. They reached the stage the the man who had been moving her forward roughly shoved her away from him, Sam was quick to regain her footing, she turned back to face him only to have the reciving end of his shotgun shoved in her face. "Easy." she said raising her hands up a little to show him she wasn't going to do anything. The gun lowered from her face, but stayed aimed at her chest. 

The commotion of the ball room was suddenly pierced by the frantic cry of what sounded like a small child. Sam along with several others on the main floor looked to the main staircase. Samantha couldn't help but pale at what she saw; a terrorist held Renny in his arms and had a gun pressed to her head. Mike was a few feet away slowly moving down the stairs, his own gun pointed at the man who held Renny, if anyone fired a shot Sam had no doubt that one or both Moretti's would be dead. The man holding Renny carried her to the stage, his fellow Innie's making sure Mike didn't follow. Jackson took a step towards where the child was but the terrorist in front of her roughly pushed his gun into her stomach, "What do you want to do with him, sir? Want us to kill him or make him watch?"

Sam looked at Mike and then to Renny who was trying to get away from the man who held her; "Renny...sweetie,look at me" she called to the girl, being closer than Mike she knew the kid would hear her, yes, she wasn't her parent but maybe she could get her to stop fidgeting so much. Last thing they needed was an Innie getting mad at her and lashing out. "Just relax, everything will be okay." she tried to sound as sincere as possible, but couldn't help letting her own fear creep into her voice.

[Daenerys Targaryen]

Sergeant Felicity Nora
The Grand Ballroom
Operation: FUBAR

One thought, and one thought alone drifted through Felicity's mind as she sat waiting for her meal with Maxen, and that was how the food they had ordered would taste. It was no secret that military rations were disgusting at best, and being on the Sol's Jewel had been a brief reminder of what the food she use to eat tasted like. Then again, food had been a bit of an issue during that time of her life as well. The ODST Sergeant pushed the thought away as she grabbed a hold of a small glass of water, taking a sip from it. 

Her eyes drifted back toward Maxen, and a small smiled filled her lips as they made eye contact. "Shit's fancy, huh?" The simply comment was gruff, closer to something she would say in the rough of it, rather than in a place such as this. "The food I mean. I wouldn't be surprised if some of this came with gold flaking, but that is probably reserved for the stiffs." A quick chin jut to the above floors seemed to indicate that she was speaking about the admiralty lofted far above them. 

Below them, on the main floor, the singers duet drew to a close and the first set in the concert seemed to be over. From what she gathered, an intermission of some sorts was going to take place before the music picked back up again. She payed little attention to the man approaching the stage, keeping her gaze on Maxen alone. "You know, I think the last time I had wine w-" 

A scream below finally called her attention away from Maxen, and her gaze traveled down toward the stage as a man began to speak into the microphone. Felicity could barely believe what she was seeing, as the man waved around his gun and raved against the UNSC. Every muscle in her body tensed as she watched the scene unfold. "Jesus Max, wh-" 

Again, her words died in her mouth as the man killed his hostage, and them men around him began to open fire on the crow below. "Jesus Max!" This time she was screaming, but she could barely hear herself as gunfire erupted on their floor as well. Her wild eyes darted to the interior of the floor, as rouge men with guns opened fire on the cruise ships security forces. 

Felicity stood, and her hands gripped the edge of the thick and expensive table they had planned to eat their meal on. "Damn, this shit is heavy, give me a hand Max!" A spray of wood launched into her face as a bullet ricocheted against the table itself. The Sergeant brought her hands up to her face instinctively, and soon found herself in a brief moment of weightlessness as a sharp pain erupted in her side. Now sprawled on the floor next to Max, Felicity tried to regain her senses. Blood leaked from somewhere on her side, and she hurt bad. "Fuck." 

Cheddar

Diana Caldwell
The Grand Ballroom
On Death's Wings

The acidic nervousness of the night slowly began to fade as the two had finished their duet. When she sang like that with Ricky, she almost always felt like things between them would get better. Their fighting always weighed heavily on her, but it was just as easy to fall back into the powder and let go. Her heart fluttered a bit as they stepped away from the microphone, but a confused look flashed across her face as soon as Xin began to speak. 

Some man came forward, and before Diana could even process what was going on, Xin's head had been reduced to a fine pink mist. Never having seen a dead person, a gun, or such violence before. The starlet was quickly reduced to a sniveling wreck of a woman. Panicked at the chaos and gunfire that soon erupted, Diana covered her ears with her hands and began screaming. Tears streamed down her face as the security staff on the cruise ship were gunned down, and random people caught in the cross fire. Every instinct in her body told her to run, but the men with the guns, watching her and Ricky kept her firmly in place.

Her cousin Sam had been one of the few things that had come to mind but she had not seen her throughout the first set of their concert. Without any knowledge of where she was, Diana resigned herself to continued screaming until the man that had killed poor Xin approached them. He spoke to them casually, and had two guards take them away. One slapped her hard across the face, issuing a stream of vulgar insults as he ordered her to be quiet. Viewing the gun in his idle hand, Diana reluctantly forced herself to calm down. The only thing keeping her anchored to reality was Ricky, steadily holding the hand that she hadn't realized dropped from her head. 

TinCanHitman

Valerie Cayla Jakande
ONI Deputy Director
The Grand Ballroom
"This was not part of the Itinerary."

Valerie had resigned herself to running her finger along the edge of her wine glass for some time now. Every now and then, Ryker would complain about the drinks, but Valerie found herself focusing on the ringing the glass made as she performed her subtle movement. Fine glassware always produced such a ring, and it made her smile. It was something her former husband would have said, many many years ago. That small smile slowly died, and her faced relaxed from the stress on such unused muscles as some man took the stage on the main floor far below. 

At first, what appeared to be a part of the over-done patriotic fetishism below went vastly south as anti UNSC rhetoric was spit out over the intercom system with a venom Valerie had not heard since last Tuesday. Languidly, Valerie joined Ryker in peering over the railing, next to their table, on the scene below. The man had a gun, she would have scoffed at such a desperate and bold move if the man had not blown a random woman's head off a moment later. 

Valerie's hands, that had been folded in her lap, now gripped her thighs hard enough to leave red marks. Around them, men began to open fire on security staff as the lights cut out. Valerie hardly had time to speak as Ryker stood, flipped over the table hey had been sitting at, and yanked her behind it. Normally, her head would have exploded at such an action, but she was glad Ryker did just that, as several bullet flew ahead not moments later. 

"We have to get you out of here, I'll be damned if the god damn assistant director dies while I'm here. Keep low.
"

"You don't have to tell me twice." She hissed, her face now scarlet with rage. Though their situation had just turned dire, there was honestly no place she would rather be. Ryker had extensive combat experience, and she knew she was safe with him. "They will likely have this floor closed off, we are the most important ones here, after all." Her voice was shrill, but as always she needed to think ahead. 

TinCanHitman

[Cheddar]

Maxen Titus
ODST Corporal
Grand Ballroom
Operation: SNAFU

He shoved with all his might against the table, helping Felicity to flip the heavy furniture over. He muttered under his breath as chaos erupted around them. "Can't have a single fucking nice meal without someone shooting a- Oh Jesus!"

He saw Felicity take a round to the hip, it threw her to the deck beside him and he crouched next to her, watching the bloody stain expand across the side of her dress. Maxen had absolutely no medical supplies on him so he did the only thing he could think of.

He looked on the floor and grabbed up a nearby knife, a very nice, shiny knife with which he should have been eating his exquisite dinner with enjoyable company. Instead, he was using the knife to cut strips from the table cloth of their overturned table and handed them to his Sergeant.

"I don't even know how much fucking good these are gonna do. I don't even know where the bullet is and I don't have a fucking thing to fix you up with. Just use these for now, we'll have to find something better soon. If we don't die here on the floor that is."

The way she gritted her teeth at him made him shut up, his black humor was a coping ,ec hanks, but it wasn't really helping. He looked around for a way out of the line of fire but nothing was immediately apparent. Abandoning that idea for the moment, he peeked around their table, poking just enough of his head out to see.

The gunmen were advancing down the walkway, scanning left and right with thier rifles as they moved. He felt angry and helpless with his dinner cutlery. The ODST looked back at his partner, hoping she'd be able to help figure out a way out of this mess.

Daenerys Targaryen

[TinCanHitman]

Teyo Triste   

Hero's Ball   

Interruptions...

Teyo turned when he heard Marque speak "Teyo, look at who I found, What do you want to do with him, sir? Want us to kill him or make him watch?"
Teyo cut his eyes at Marque, only visible over the mask he had put over his face. He took several steps then smacked the man on the back of his head, hard enough to get his point across. "No names!" he hissed with icy venom. Teyo then looked down at the struggling girl, getting down on one knee to be more level with her. "Hey, hey, shhh, it's okay."  The girl struggled a bit more but Marque held her tight. "Is that your daddy?" he asked, pointing over to where Mike stood. "Well, I know yo-" suddenly he was interrupted by another hostage, a woman with an obviously mechanical arm.

Teyo's eyes darkened to a pitch storm, he HATED being interrupted. He rose to his feet and pointed at her "Now." he said, at which Jon, who was holding her, forced her down to her knees. Teyo walked over and used the barrel's of his scatter gun like a club to giver her a hard smack to the jaw, he was pretty sure he saw blood. He got down onto his knees, reaching into his bag and pulling out a tool kit. "Did your father ever teach you respect? When I was a boy, on my home planet, my father was a strict man." He moved over and began to work on the woman's robotic arm, de-coupling the power supply so the arm went limp, before working on the servos. "He would never, ever, allow such back talk, or to be interrupted." He took out a wrench, clicking his tongue as he worked a bit "...and I am just shocked that a woman of your....caliber, is so under informed." Suddenly a loud pop followed by a clang as the robotic prosthetic clattered to the ground. A man moved over and scooped it up, tossing it off back stage. "So, I will teach you." 

Teyo rose back to his feet and moved back over to the girl. "I'm going to show you to your daddy, okay? Then you'll be good and come with me." Teyo easily took the girl out of Marque's hands and set her on the ground, walking her to a bit away from the man who  seemed to be her father. "Now...none of us" he said, casting both the girl and her father a glance "are going to be a problem." He looked over at the Father and gave him a hard look as he turned the girl away "are we?" he added. He then took the girl into the back, not giving the man a second glance.

Alex and Ranjir stood waiting with 'The Coats', several specially made jackets that had light dermal armor implants, as well as C12 explosives strapped to them. They were rigged in several ways, failed difusal attempts would trip the primer and cause them to explode, detonation from either Miguel's or Teyo's data pads, or from the deactivation of the 'dead man's hand' program that was implanted into Teyo's implants. The coat was too big for the girl, but they used a bit of rope to keep the coat tight and Teyo did the knot as he spoke to her. "Alright, so, we're going to play a game, okay? You, and your daddy, get to play. And don't worry, we're all on the same team. If we win, you get to go home with your daddy, and I get to go home too. So here's the game, men may try to come and take you, you have to run, or else you lose, and they'll take your daddy, or me, or you, away, and then we lose. Think you can keep away from the men?" He asked, giving her a disturbingly friendly smile, considering his recent transgressions.

Terrance Ryker   

Hero's Ball   

God DAMMIT

Ryker half listened to Valarie, knowing full well she was not stupid, but also knowing she hadn't exactly been on as many field ops, if any, and was currently engrossed in the man moving their way. He studied the man, a slight favoring of the right leg, suggesting a injury to the left, and was using an older rifle...a god damn Obrez. Ryker would have face palmed if he had had the time, but instead he gritted his teeth in rage. It was litterally a garage gun, or might as well have been, a sawn off, pistol gripped, bolt action rifle. One so ancient that the only reason it still was viable was because of the ridiculous caliber it fired. 

He had a fork, and that was it, and even if the innie would have to cycle the bolt he knew that it only needed one shot to incapacitate him. He pushed Valarie against the table and brought a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet, then spun back to be waiting for the man. Ryker counted twelve seconds before finally the man was cresting the corner of the table, casting a glance he started to raise his rifle. Ryker didn't let out a battle cry, or scream profanities, instead he flung all of his weight into the terrorist. The man seemed caught off guard by the sudden attack, but didn't hesitate to throw himself into the fight. He punched Ryker in the side, causing the old man to hiss with pain, but did force him to let go, instead he took his fork and began to stab at the innie, causing blood to cristen the man's shirt. "what the fuck?!" cried the rebel as he shoved Ryker off of him.

He took a step forward to fire at the downed agent, but Ryker was going to just give in. Ryker kicked hard into the other man's ankle, causing him to yelp and slide on the table cloth that had been knocked to the floor. Ryker was back on him, stabbing at the man's exposed arms with one hand while the other tried to wrap around the man's shoulder, locking the weapon in place. The innie reared his head back and smacked into Ryker's nose, causing it to gush blood as Ryker lost his grip, his eye exploding with stars at the pain. Ryker slid down to his knees, ignoring the blood, but being to dazed to stand. He was old, and winded, and suddenly felt the need to stop smoking. 

"Fucking old geezer!" the man said as he brought the weapon up again. Ryker saw the barrel and felt a second wind, of sorts, it was probably just adrenalin in his old heart. He grabbed the weapon and pulled it past his head right as it fired, burning Ryker's hand and causing his ears to ring. He ignored that as best he could, and pulled the man towards him. Ryker had training in human anatomy, for medical reasons, but he used it to great effect currently. He bit down on the man's exposed fore arm, biting with all of his strength, needing maximum penetration to do what he hoped. He felt his teeth sink into the averagely muscled man's arm, and blood began to well up into Ryker's mouth. He bit as deep as he could and latched on, ignoring the man's screams as he struck at Ryker's skull. 

Ryker finally pulled back after what felt like five minutes, with a disgustingly large chunk of flesh in his maw. He spit out as soon as he was able, and the other man fell back, screaming as he clutched at his arm. Blood was gushing from the wound, and Ryker knew he had hit his mark. The Brachial artery was his target, and it was hemorrhaging blood at an alarming rate, at least alarming for the innie. Ryker didn't wait, instead he grabbed the Obrez and grabbed Valarie, heaving large breaths as he moved as quickly as he could to one of the standing bars.

He took her behind it then collapsed onto the ground, sweating and breathing hard through his nose. He covered his mouth to dampen the breathing. He knew that some had heard the screams, and soon would be by. He peaked around the edge of the bar, trying to see what was happening out on the floor.

[LaxKnight]

CPL Toby ‘Mick’ McMillian Jr.
153rd ODST
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, Dance Floor
Bar Fight!
Tag(s): No one

While most of the security was killed on the dance floor, the bar was one of few pockets of resistance on that level. All the expensive refrigerators and kegs made excellent cover against the aging weapons the terrorists wielded. There were several people behind the bar now, most of them using weapons they manage to scavenge from fallen security guards or slain terrorists. They were putting up a pretty good fight but now that most of the opposition was eliminated the terrorist began focusing more of their fire on them.

Mick managed to get a hold of an old assault rifle from one of the terrorists. It was an older weapon, something that look liked it came out a museum. He knew how they operated thankfully and after a few moments of getting use to it’s feel his effectiveness with it multiplied exponentially. Beside him his ficance was firing an M6 pistol much better than a person with no firearms training would. “When did you learn how to shoot?” he asked.

“Well after our planet got glassed and you left to be an ODST, I figured some shooting lessons would be nice,” she said.

“Shooting lessons? Why didn’t you tell me? Or even ask me? I’m a good shot.”

“Oh, just thought you were too busy fighting a war.”

“Right.”

Mick hid behind the bar to reload. He heard the all too familiar sound of another glass shatter as some alcoholic beverage poured on top of him. It ran down his face a bit. He wiped it off then slurped some off his finger. “Mhm. Rum,” he said with a smile.

He peeked over the counter. He saw that the head terrorist was rounding up some people like the singers and what looks like a little girl. He recognized Mike being surrounded by a group of thugs. He took aim and opened fired on the henchmen surrounding him.


NPC - Trisha Misriah
CEO of Misriah Armory
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, 2nd Floor
Run ‘n Gun
Tag(s):
 Faclan, TinCanHitman, Llau, Doc the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen


Trisha nodded to Chris’ words and looked out to see if their way was clear so they could move downstairs to meet with this mysterious Mike. She shot a terrorist bold enough to get near them, pumping the action to load the next round. She looked again but something dashed from beside her. Trisha recognized the small blur as the little girl Remmy running out into the firefight only to be swiftly captured by a terrorist. For a few moments she was filled with anger. Chris was supposed to watch her. Who runs out in a firefight like that?

Then almost as quickly as her anger came she was filled with sympathy. The little girl was probably extremely scared. She was most likely looking for her daddy. Trisha remembered when she was six where the terrorists attacked the ship she and her mother was on. She hid in a cupboard until they found her. They dragged her to her Mother and they held them ransom against her Father. He didn’t give in to their demands and her Mother was killed in front of her for it. Trisha can still remember her last words before her head blew into a red mist of bone and brain matter. She had a hard time understanding why Mother died and only when she became much older and her own Father perished the same way did she get the idea.

However this girl wasn’t the heir of the biggest weapons manufacturer of the UNSC. This little girl just had the luck of being a daughter to a government official and, from the sounds of it, a single parent. It was there that Trisha made a silent vow to herself that tonight she was going to make sure that this girl was going to grow up with her dad. She looked to Chris and said, “I’m going after her.”

Trisha took a moment to make sure the way was clear before she went after Remmy. A few men noticed her but she put them down before they could get a good shot. She felt a bullet graze her left arm but she kept going. That man and her little girl were going to make it. She made it down the to the first floor before she heard someone yell. She dove behind a table as bullets flew in her direction. She knew a lot about the weapons she made, something she took much pride in, and she knew the shotgun couldn’t reach the main group that was holding the hostages. However she could take out a few of these terrorists, maybe delay them for...something.

[Faclan]

Tags: Llau, LaxKnight

Christopher John Hyde.
ONI Section I Scientist, Xeno-Linguist.
Grand Ballroom, at a tipped over table.
Oh crap.

Doing his best to keep close to Trisha as she was the only friendly armed Human Chris kept glancing back at Remmy every so often to make sure she was still following and some Innie bastard wasn't right behind her. He was worried honestly, for all of their lives here. Also a bit worried that the vessel may just be blown up to show the Innies that the UNSC didn't give a shit about their demands. But considering how many UNSC and ONI members were on the craft he super doubted that. Still there was that possibility, but then Remmy was gone.

Trying to reach out to grab her to pull her back Hyde missed and was forced to watch as she was grabbed up by the terrorists...Mike was going to be so pissed. Hissing in annoyance at this new revelation he watched Trisha swear vengeance and then gun down some Innies as she moved after Remmy. Chris barely had time to nod before he quickly picked up a fallen SMG and grabbed what he really hoped were the big flat mags for it before following after Trisha.

At least he was armed now as he half slid half fell to be behind the table with Trish as he stayed low and nodded at her as he held out the old SMG to her. "We'll get Remmy back, take this if it'l help. I'll use the shotgun."

(Blah sorry, was having real trouble with this post D: .)

[Llau]

Michelangelo Moretti
ONI Section III Field Operator
The Grand Ballroom
Oh, you fucked up now...
Tag(s): TinCanHitman LaxKnight Doc the Mother of Dragons Faclan


He kept his newly acquired gun on Triste, never moving his weapon when three men surrounded him, nor his eyes off of the man who now had Renee. At first, he was shocked to see that they had his little girl, and not Hyde keeping her safe, but now he was visibly pissed. Yet, he kept his anger under control as he stayed focused. He did notice Jackson was taken hostage as well when she tried calming his daughter down, which seemed to have angered Triste quite a lot. He watched as the man went over to hit her hard in the jaw, which made Moretti wince a bit, but otherwise kept a cold, hard focus. He frowned somewhat when the man worked on her mechanical arm, and then had someone throw it somewhere backstage when he finally took it off of her.

Moretti shifted around in his stance, slowly lowering the gun down when Triste spoke to him and Renee. His glared up at him, eyes wide with anger and fear from seeing what his little girl was dealing with right now. He slowly shook his head, eyebrows creasing with slight worry, and then silently looked on as the man took Renny into the back.

***

While in the back, Renny looked on as they fitted her with the explosive jacket. It felt heavy to her, with all the things attached to it, but she didn't know what it was. Though, she was smart enough to not touch anything, since she was taught not to touch things she didn't know. Her father also told her to never talk to strangers, but now, she didn't know what to do. She was scared, but the man wasn't really scary, and her father was here. When Triste spoke to her, telling her that they were going to play a game, she looked up at him. It sounded like a game of tag or hide-and-seek. He wanted her to keep away from the men. She pondered this, and then smiled back as she nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll play," she said, "I'm thirsty though...can I have some water please?"

***

A couple of minutes after watching the two disappear backstage, more gunfire sounded as shots ran out on the dance floor where the majority of the hostages have been rounded up by the terrorists who have mixed into the group of innocent people. He hissed in pain when a stray bullet grazed his arm and then another entered his thigh, but thankfully, didn't hit the major artery in his thigh. The second bullet that hit him caused the operator to drop down to a knee. He grimaced in pain, holding his gun in one hand, while pressing his free hand over the wound on the side of his thigh.

He scanned his eyes around to see who was firing into the crowd. If it wasn't for the terrorists firing back after one of their own people were fatality shot in the neck, he would have thought that it was one of them who decided to shoot at him to injure him since he was armed. But nope. He spotted the one who was firing their weapon and trying to be Rambo. He could fire lightening bolts out of his eyes at McMillian. The man helped save his life on Protector, but that doesn't give him a free pass after doing what he just did here.

“Hey, are you fucking nuts, Corporal?” He asked him angrily. “You don't fucking shoot into a crowd with hostages. I don't even know why I'm telling you that, but you're a god damn ODST, and should know not to do something so fucking stupid!”

God, he was so pissed off. First, it was these Innies, then seeing his daughter and Jackson being captured, and now he comes under some friendly fire.

What a day.

The moment he gets the chance though...he will go after the man who now has his daughter. 

He gradually looked toward the stage, staring at it.

I'm going to hunt him down and kill him...

[Doc the Mother of Dragons]

HN Samantha Jackson
The Sol's Jewel
Tag: Llau TinCanHitman

The moment the man know known as Teyo turned his head and looked at her, Samantha regretted opening her mouth. But then again she didn't mean to interupt the man, if anything he interupted her. The terrorist stood from where he was kneeling in front of Renny, he spoke one word and the terrorist behind her grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down to her knees. As Teyo walked towards her, his gun in hand she fully expected her life to end in the next few seconds; a shot to the head wouldn't be a bad way to go, short and sweet but messy, except she didn't exactly want to go this soon. 

The thought of trying to reason with the man crossed her mind for a brief second but she knew that it wouldn't work. Teyo swung his gun and Sam cried out as the metal barrel connected with her lower jaw; her head snapped to the side and she felt her lip split open, sending a gush of blood into her mouth. She'd be lucky if she hadn't lost a tooth. "Did your father ever teach you respect? When I was a boy, on my home planet, my father was a strict man." She was still trying to regain focus after the blow when he spoke to her, Sam tried to reach up and touch her face to see how bad the damage was but the man behind her was holding her wrists tight. 

Suddenly something cold brushed over the upper part of her right arm, she quickly turned her head to see Teyo working on the mechanical part of her arm.  Having spent several hours with the tech getting the hunk of metal on and working, she knew what he was doing. There was a click and she lost all power to the arm, it now hung off the stump like a dead weight. "He would never, ever, allow such back talk, or to be interrupted." Sam bit her tongue, fighting back a smart ass comment that wanted to come out but she knew it would be a dumbass thing to do. Besides, she had a hunch either of her dads would tell her to keep her mouth shut.  

Teyo pulled a wrench out of his bad, "...and I am just shocked that a woman of your....caliber, is so under informed." her eyes went from the tool in his hand and then back to his face, she tried to pull away from him but the hold on her was to strong, "Oh god don't-" she started to plead. There was a pop and she heard her arm fall to the ground, but that wasn't what was going through her mind. Sam closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, leaning over she grabbed what was left of her right arm with her left hand, screaming through her teeth, as the nerves kept going off; she had never been struck by lightening but she was sure it felt like what she was feeling. 

It wasn't just the pain. The sickening emptiness was there as well, she wanted to clench her fist move her hand but when she did all she got was empty air. Teyo said something about teaching her as he walked off, lifting her head up she kept her hand pressed to her stump, though her jaw throbbed from the eariler hit she still clenched her teeth. The pain would die down eventually. The emptiness would stay till she got her arm back.

She didn't see Teyo take Renny to the back. Gunshots rang out, the terrorist behind her grabbed her by her hair again and jerked her up in front of him, keeping her on her knees he manuvered her so she would be a human sheild. Another terrorist fell, along with several civilians, Mike was yelling to the shooters, she saw his bloody hand pressed to his leg, yet another injured. Teyo's words from when all this started echod through her head, if the evening had gotten bad it was about to get a hell of a lot worse. 

[Daenerys Targaryen]

Sergeant Felicity Nora 

The Grand Ballroom 

Operation: FUBAR 

If she knew she wouldn't have gotten shit for it, she would have spilled it to Maxen right then and there that she had never actually been shot at by another human before, let along shot by one. The Covenant had been a thing a long time before she had ever considered joining the military, and when she had joined, the insurrection she ever saw was a riot on some back water colony over a lack of medical supplies. Insurrection was something that had to be put on hold for the alien bastards trying to get them all, and even then, she had always known it as some outer colony's distant memory. 

It didn't feel much like some random tales though, as she grabbed the strips of cloth from Maxen and looked down toward the bright plume of red flowering from her side. The way it mixed with the gold coloring of her dress made her want to vomit. The Pain in hip was almost unbearable and it made her skin crawl. "God dammit." She whispered between clenched teeth, glancing toward Max as he glanced toward her. Without any shame, Felicity hiked up the right section of her skirt to gain access to her side, with the flowy bits out of the way, she could survey the scene in its entirety. Her tan skin was slick and shiny with blood. She could barely make out the fleshy hole in the midst of it all, pumping out a steady stream of her blood. 

That is suppose to be on the inside. Screamed every fiber of her being, right down to the core, as she pressed the linen strips against the wound with as much force as she could. The next wave of pain his her like a truck and she found tried to be as quiet as possible as she heaved what little acid remained in her stomach onto the floor. "Ok. Max. You need to tell me what you see." Her breathing was a bit ragged, mostly due to her previous retching. For now, she didn't feel as though she was dying, so she supposed that was a good thing. 

She heard foot steps, but from her position behind the table that was all she could make out from this floor. The scenes below and above them sounded worse, with random screams and the odd gunshot or two ringing out. "There is no way they would pass up the ransom on the big brass, if they hate them enough to kill them we are already fucked." She wasn't old enough to remember New Harmony, if she had even been alive at all. Though she had heard some brutal stories from the ODST old enough to remember those days, there weren't many of them left. 

"I don't think we can do much with the pointy bits." Her eyes darted toward the silverware clutched in Maxen's hands. "So, you should g-" Felicity's words were cut short as some random chick charged along the floor, bounding toward the stairs that would take her down to the main floor. Any insurrectionists near them were most likely preoccupied by that, at least she had hoped. "Max, I am sure there is some supplies closet on this floor. This ship is too fucking big not to have something on every damn floor. And it might have at least something I need." She took a deep breath, trying to recover from a sudden jolt of pain. "Leave me, drag me along, do something while those fucks are distracted." 


LaxKnight Cheddar

 Valerie Cayla Jakande
ONI Deputy Director
The Grand Ballroom
"I hope you plan on taking a second mortgage
on your house to pay for this stained dress."

As Valerie outwardly schemed, Ryker busied himself with glancing over and around their makeshift barricade. Quite unexpectedly, her words were cut short by Ryker as he pressed her hard against the table a shushed her. Her steely gaze narrowed on him, but she complied. Ryker was a skilled agent, and he wouldn't have been so bold without a reason, and she suspected the reason was something along the lines of armed men sweeping through the floor. It was a classic hostage round-up, or at least Valerie hoped it was, she wouldn't stand to be a statistic in the next New Harmony. 

The sudden sound of footsteps, nearby, reached her aged ears amid the chaos and her heart began to thrump savagely against her ribcage. Valerie glanced at Ryker, the way he tensed, the way his face turned to stone, before she knew it he was on top of the man that had turned the corner. Her jaw dropped as the fight in front of her played out. She had often considered relegating Ryker to a position more suited for his age, but right now he proved to be just what the situation needed. Eventually, blood flew from his nose and the old agent was knocked on his ass. The insurrectionist in front of the two leveled the gun toward Ryker's head and Valerie instinctively tossed herself to the floor. 

Much like a beached dolphin, Valerie leak of a a mix between a squeek and a shriek as Ryker knocked the gun up and a shot rang over both of them. Her ears took a beating, and she found herself momentarily deaf as she took in the site of Ryker biting into the man. He tore out a chunk of flesh, and the Deputy Direct found her white dressed splattered with a disgusting amount of blood. The world slowed down for a moment, as she stared at the brutality before her, not even blinking as a drop of blood slid down her lash and dropped onto her cheek. 

Before she could even register her own movement, the Director found herself behind the oak wood of a standing bar, with ryker, now armed, breathing heavily beside her. The reality of the situation sunk in at that point, as she watched him recover, both of them drenched in the blood of a terrorist. "Don't tell me you didn't find any other weapon on the man." 

TinCanHitman

[Cheddar]

ODST Corporal Maxen Titus
Grand Ballroom
Operation: SNAFU

Max unbuttoned his black dress coat and threw it on the floor, with this he opened the cuffs on his button down shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. Now that the shooting had started, he wasn't overly concerned with how he was dressed. He took another peek around the edge of the table and saw that Felicity was right, most of the Insurrectionists did appear to be distracted. He turned his head at her voice.

"Leave me, drag me along, do something while those fucks are distracted."


"I'm not dragging you but you're right, let's move."

He looked around, choosing the next place they'd move to before he picked her up.  He wanted to move her around as little as possible until they were able to treat her wound, picking her up and then running around without a destination in mind was just asking for trouble.

On the wall nearby was a sign. The sign protruded from an alcove in the hall and was very simply designed, a green box with a white cross. A first aid station. Maxen took another look for the Insurrectionists and saw that they had moved away from them, he made his move.

"This is gonna hurt, Sergeant."

He lifted her up, she wasnt heavy, especially without her armor and gear but he took great pains to be as gentle as possible while still moving with purpose and speed. Out in the open was not a good place for them.

"Alright, Felicity, there's a first aid station up there. Until we can get that hole properly plugged, it'll do.After that, we can decide our next step. I'm moving, so hang on."

He knew that bending her body when he lifted her up only agitated the wound. He moved quickly, his back hunched over, using his body to protect hers. They made it to the station and Maxen sat her down on the floor, in the alcove and put of sight from the hall.

"Let's see what we've got here."

He opened the green box on the wall and poked around. He was after two things in particular: bio-foam and gauze. He didn't have much medical training but the bio-foam meant he didn't have to. He found a small applicator full of the stuff and picked it up.

He turned around to his patient. "Alright, let's get it done."

She lifted her dress again, removing the rough strips of table cloth and allowing him access to the wound. He pushed the applicator nozzle in and pushed down on the activation arm. A small hissing noise was heard as the foam expanded to fill the cavity. Felicity grimaced as he injected the stuff, he frowned but knew there was nothing he could do about it.

When he was done with that, Maxen pocketed the other vial of bio-foam, knowing that in a few hours when the current dose of the stuff began to break down, she may need more. He then set to wrapping the gauze around her hip, making sure the bandages were tight, but not so much as to hurt her.

Her face was still a grimace, he knew from experience that the process of having bio-foam injected into wounds was almost as painful as getting the wound. He rummaged around and found a small bottle of painkillers. They weren't the powerful narcotic variant, but they'd do for now. He handed her four and pocketed the bottle as well.

He decided that, that was as good as things were likely to get and crouched down next to her seated form.

"Alright. So from here, we need to find the others. We won't last for too much longer on our own like this. The bottom floor looks like a no-go, lots of dead civvies and a high concentration of Insurrectionists. Up is harder but a better, and safer bet. How do you feel?"
Daenerys Targaryen

[TinCanHitman]

Teyo Triste    

Hero's Ball

It's all fun and games...

Teyo held his smile as the little girl seemed to think, he doubted she'd have much of a mind to combat his logic, but she was smart, that much he could tell. When she finally spoke, agreeing and asking for water, Teyo gave an honest chuckle. Children seemed to have a way of catching you off guard, especially in serious situations. "Of course, of course." He took her small hand in his larger one and walked her over to the counter where the 'celebrities' got ready for their work. And as he had thought, there was a wide selection of foods and drinks, laid out on a table near it.

Leading the little girl over to it he caught Terrance's attention "Get it ready." he hissed, before reverting his attention back to the girl. He picked her up and set her gently in the makeup chair, handing her a bottle of water from the table and smiling again. "My name is Paul, what's yours?" he asked politely. He needed this girl to be as relaxed as possible, and he needed to enforce to her that he was a good man, and that she could trust him. 

Teyo was about to talk to her a bit more when Miguel walked in with his hard case tac-pad. "We're ready." he said setting it on the table and hooking a wire to it. He then took out a box on a wire and connected that to the pad. "Activating The Hood." After a few key strokes Teyo's own data pad went off, alerting him that he was no longer connected to any outbound sources, and that his data pad was being blocked. He nodded and took a walkie talkie from his bag, hooking it to his BP-vest.

"This is Hyena, check in." Teyo said, releasing the walkie talkie and placing the ear piece into his ear. He smiled at the girl and crouched next to her as his men reported in, all using their own code names. Quite a few didn't respond, and a large group of them were alerting him to some girl, killing her way to his floor. His smiled wavered and he rose to his feat. "Sta-" he was interrupted when nearby gunshot's echoed and he heard the girl's father begin to swear. Teyo's face darkened and he moved to the curtain, but not before reaching back into his satchel, pulling the ancient Glock-18 from it's place there. 

He stepped briskly onto the stage, his face crumpled with anger. "What the fuck is going on out here?" his loud voice boomed. He managed to answer his own question as he pieced the scene together, seeing the man bleeding and looking over at where another man was. Teyo had managed to catch the part where the girl's father called the man behind a bar an ODST, and that made Teyo snort with superiority. 

What got his attention next was the sudden voice in his ear. "Hyena, this is Toad, the lethal girl is on your floor, she just sprinted past about four of us, then went down a stair well, she sho-" "I read you." Teyo said calmly as he watched a girl sprint from the edge of the room to a table. She seemed to ignore the fact that Teyo's men had the door's covered, an obvious tactic considering he was on this floor. "She killed two of ours. Hog and Sparrow." Toad chimed in, and Teyo's rage increased. "Tiger, Fox, and Boar, banister, straight down." There was a moment of hesitation, but soon enough three men were at the banister looking down at the girl behind the table. "Copy." they all said, preparing themselves.

Teyo looked over his shoulder and made a jerking motion with his head, and large man came from back stage. His name was Johnathan, and he was built like a brick shit house. Farm born and raised, he was solid muscle from head to foot, and was wielding the large PKP machine gun. He hefted the belt fed weapon and nodded at Teyo, who made a quick circle motion with his hand, then pointed to the table the girl was behind. The two men who had been guarding the door were already taking shots at her, so her position was easily noted. Teyo grabbed his walkie "Move, fire on Robin and Newt's target." He put his hands over his mouth "Get down!" he roared, before firing a shot into the air. The mass of the dance floor crowd dropped as low to the ground as they could, and those who didn't were quickly cut down.

The eight men on stage, three on the second floor, and two by the stair well, all opened fire on the table the girl was behind. Teyo himself was firing his weapon, holding his arm at the crook of his elbow for stability as he fired his entire magazine into it. Johnathan, code named Bull, was firing as well, the loud thunder of continued automatic fire was a constant as all of them shot. The table held for moments as the wood splintered, the girl wasn't so lucky. By the first volley the men on the top floor were already firing, directly down into her cover, and she had lasted seconds against it, if that. Her body was riddled with bullet holes as her bravado cost her her life, as a grand total thirteen men unloaded their weapon's into her.

Finally, when there was almost nothing left of the table, and almost nothing left of the girl, Teyo raised his hand. "Stop." he said over his walkie, and his men held back. "Newt, make sure." "Copy." came the raspy voice of the man named Hogins, who moved over to the mass of lead and blood, drawing his revolver. He suddenly stopped when he noticed some thing. "Hyena, we've got...a nerd? I don't know, some guy with a beard." "Round him up." Teyo said dropped his Glock's magazine and loading  another one in, racking the slide and turning from the stage. "Kill the ODST." he said to Johnathan who nodded and moved towards the bar

Teyo returned back to the back stage, going over to the girl and smiling again. "I'm sorry about that. I had to take care of some thing. But now that I'm back we get to play more games. This one is dress up, okay? My friend here will be pointing a camera at you, I need you to show off your new coat, alright?" Teyo said smiling before nodding at Miguel, who activated the camera device and pointed it towards the girl.

Teyo began to speak, standing behind the girl as he did, however he spoke in Spanish, instead of English. He didn't need this girl panicking. "To the UNSC BullPen, you have fifteen minutes to begin your unloading of the weapons we've demanded, or we will activate these." He said, showing the girl off. "Fifteen." He then nodded and Miguel cut the feed.

Terrance Ryker   

Hero's Ball   

No party for old men

Ryker scanned the floor for a while longer before finally turning to Valarie, only to have her start...bitching...he would have rolled his eyes if he still had both so instead he cast he gaze back to the floor where another insurrectionist had shown up. He was attempting to tend to the other man, but Ryker could tell from here the first innie was a goner, and it caused him to have a tight evil smirk. He then realized Valarie was still there and steeled himself to talk with her. "We need to get to the maintenance access tunnels, they will take us to the escape pods and we can jettison ourselves. I doubt the innies know you specifically are here, but that doesn't mean they wont recognize you." Ryker took a soft bar towel and tied it into a bandanna like shape "Put this on." he said, handing it to her without a second thought. "And to answer your original question, no. This is all I found, I didn't get a chance to rifle through his britches...ma'am." he added, knowing he still wanted his job AFTER he saved the assistant director. 

Ryker honestly respected Valarie, she did what needed to be done, and was professional. But the wounded pride of being dragged to some god awful party with a bunch of people he hated was still to fresh for Terrance to just ignore. On top of that her field...attitude, was terrible. Less lip would be nice, but he doubted the assistant director had the ability to not force his own input into any situation. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if she could berate the insurrectionist into submission with her wit and word alone.

Ryker placed what little of a barrel the rifle had on the bar, cycling it with one hand and stabilizing it with the other. Ryker was lucky enough to lose his left eye, so he didn't have to retrain himself to shoot, so his accuracy was still as good as ever, some thing he was proud of. He lined up his shot and steadied his breathing, he didn't want to start a fire fight, no, he just wanted his fellow man dead. It was moments like these, the subtle thuds of his own heart beat his only companion, that Ryker felt the most contempt for man. He hated almost every other human being, but it was probably because Ryker hated himself. He had managed to alienate himself from every living thing in the galaxy, before he became ONI. After he became ONI it was far to late, he was already a ghost. The person he even allowed himself to feel, well, any thing for, was Jackson.

He pushed the thought from his mind and inhaled, exhaled, then squeezed the trigger.

[LaxKnight]

NPC - Trisha Misriah
CEO of Misriah Armory
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, First Deck
Too Fast
Tag(s): TinCanHitman, Faclan

Trisha was happy that Chris was here with her. She looked at the SMG he offered her and was considering it when she saw a large man wielding a machine gun step out from the stage. She then saw one of the terrorists point in her direction and knew that she made a mistake. Blinded by rage and adrenaline, she pushed too far too fast and now she was going to pay for it. Along with the man unlucky enough to come along with her.

In a last act of heroics, she shoved Chris back hard enough that he was out of the way when the hail storm hit. As bullets riddled her body her last thoughts were that while she wouldn’t get the girl free with her dad, she died trying to save someone and the company was still go to Misriah hands. When the large terrorist came over to check the body, they would find a bloody heap with her ID card out labeling her as Trisha Misriah, CEO of Misriah Armory. Be assured they won't get weapons from them anytime soon.

(Mick will come later)

[LaxKnight]

(As promised)

CPL Toby ‘Mick’ McMillian Jr.
153rd ODST
The Sol’s Jewel, Grand Ballroom, First Deck
Got Their Attention
Tag(s): TinCanHitman, Llau

Mick’s aim was mainly at the outskirts of the group of terrorists with the hostages, in between them and the stage. Shooting in the middle of the group would risk hurting the hostages. He heard yelling coming from below but he couldn’t hear what was said over the distance and the din of the additional gunfire. However he noticed it was from that guy they saved on Protector. He noticed that his shots were heading toward them instead. He crouched behind the counter wincing in mental anger. Fucking sights, he thought. He hoped he didn't kill anyone but it hurt him inside. He felt bad for a moment before the need to help drove him forward. He fixed the sights on his assault rifle and peeked over.

Mick looked over just in time to see a rather large man step out from the stage with what he instantly recognized as a PKP machine gun. Bossman terrorist point to a table and in seconds the area lit up from fire from three different levels and the machine gun. It was at this moment of horror that Mick just realized how many and how powerful these terrorists really were. He looked to his fiance who looked at him in turn and he knew what he had to do now. He looked to the bartender and pulled him near. “Is there any way out of here?” he asked.

“The bulkheads are down and it looks like they got most of exits covered,” he said.

Mick thought for a moment as he looked at the bar. They did serve some food here but didn’t look like it was made in front of the guests. “Where does the food come from?”

“We get the food from the…” he paused mid-sentence as he looked to where his thumb was pointing at and a sudden look of realization pounded his face. He crawled over and opened a cupboard to reveal a dumb waiter. “We get the food from second deck kitchen,” he explained, “This thing mainly runs electronically but it’s got some manual cranks.”

Good. A way out, he dared to think with a grin. When he realized that he no longer heard the hail of bullets it quickly disappeared. He peeped over just in time for Bossman to point in his direction. “Not good,” he said mainly to himself.

He looked to the group of people with him. There were seven overall: his fiance, the bartender, a waitress, an Airman, two civilians who seemed wealthy, and himself. The wealthy civilians were the only ones without guns. “Alright listen up. You,” he pointed to the Airman, “Guard our flanks. Val, you go up first.”

“But…” Val started but was swiftly cut off.

“You have a gun. Who knows what’s in the kitchen?”

She nodded begrudgingly. Mick then turned to the bartender and waitress and said, “We get the special job of lighting up that big fucker! Ready?”

The waitress looked like she was about say something but before she could he let out a vicious warcry that startled her to silence. He popped over with them lagging slightly and they opened fired. The machine gun wielding terrorist’s size was normally an advantage but in this instance it was going to be the end of him for it made him a much larger target. He managed to get five shots off before he was slammed with a wall of bullets to the ground, looking almost as good as that woman he mowed down a minute ago. Two of the bullets missed completely while another two hit the bar that was protected with hardwood and the finest (and toughest) refrigeration units for their various beverages. The last bullet tore a large hole into the neck of one of the wealthy civilians who was unlucky enough to be crouched a little too high above the counter.

They hid behind the counter again. Mick was saddened by the bloody carcass but he was glad to see his girl already disappeared riding up the dumb waiter. He reloaded and fired bursts of suppressive fire to buy them time.