MEU Gathering

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
120th Marine Expeditionary Unit
March 11th, 2548; 1:11 PM 'Civilian' Time

Despite being optional, John hoped the surviving members of the MEU arrived to enjoy the day with other Marines and their families. They were told that even though it was considered 'social' it was still a military event, so if they arrived in anything other than service or dress uniforms they needed to be on authorized leave. Just because the Marines some time to rest and restore their bodies didn't mean they were on granted leave however; so they were still required to wear their uniform at this event. It didn't help that the recreational facility fell well within the 'civilian' lines, meaning Marines couldn't wear their fatigues - a much more comfortable option.

John himself wore his service uniform, minus the jacket. It had been worn frequently, however, so it was comfortable enough. His chest displayed his various medals he had won, at the very top a medal of honor he earned back when he was a First Lieutenant. Long ago were the days he was carelessly heroic, what he did back then was irrational and outright stupid; but it had saved the crew of a pelican that had crashed into the top of a building from Covenant Forces. John was awarded the medal of honor for going above and beyond the call of duty by climbing a dangling power cord multiple stories with no harness or other safety gear. He would continue to fight, eventually being promoted to Captain in the same battle.

Nowadays, however, he just wasn't the man he used to be.

The past aside, John was personally looking forward to seeing who showed up.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March, 2548: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

Stepping through the main doors of the facility, the aging Captain took in the nearby surroundings and those within. There were quite a few marines present, some from different units and at least a few filtered in from the 120th MEU. Survivors, which seemed the norm these latter days of the war. The last mission to the planet known in the databases as XVB 2476 had been known by its other name of Frontier to those that had fought for the Titanium Mines and the other isolated refuges of safety the planet’s inhabitants had sought out. The Covenant fighting had been hard, hand-to-hand at times and close-quarters with only a pistol or rifle’s barrel between a marine and the aliens. More marines had fallen in those blasted tunnels, even though he, John, the Captains of the 53rd Combat Engineers and of the 153rd ODST company had led their men personally. The notion of fighting and dying hadn’t bothered him from the start, back when he’d been a wet-behind the ears Private facing off against the Insurrectionists on at least several worlds, but that hadn’t meant he’d dismissed the notion of fear or even the feeling of it. Fear kept one alive, and moving. That had been one of the motivational speeches an old DI of his had repeated time and time again, drilling into the other eager recruits during the seventeen week basic training.

Passing a few Pool tables to his right and left, the aging Captain found a nice table and slid into the chair. The request for the survivors to attend a Social Gathering organized by the Colonel had been something he wouldn’t have missed, not that he’d had anything else to do since he’d been exhausted from both the mission on the planet and had indeed dozed off on pelican ride up from the planet. The constant fighting, rapid deployments had taken their toll on even the most stalwart of humanity though Mark knew they couldn’t simply roll over or step aside against the tenacity even if religiously based of the Covenant. A salad of medals adorned the left breast of the jacket of his service uniform and read as a near accurate record of his service. He could have joined the Seattle Police force as his father had rising to the ranks to be a Detective, and finally a Lieutenant, but Mark had felt the calling of the war against the Insurrectionists. He’d enlisted, against his mother’s wishes although his father had stood by him. Now, Mark had seen more blood and more grime than most in the War had and at times it weighed on him to which in order to keep his sanity kept the single notion that humanity itself had been his calling at the forefront of his thoughts. Defending it while the authors, and artists dreamed without any concern of a Hell above their heads that would even have turned Dante’s Divine Comedy into a hopeful boast. Sitting back into the chair, he’d removed his barracks cover and set it before him on the table and planned on having a beer or two. He’d wondered how many of his brothers and sisters, the survivors from the 120th MEU would be joining them and how much fun he’d have beating some of them in a few rounds of Pool or darts.

[Arusani]

Staff Sergeant Andreas Frost, 153rd ODST company, third platoon.
Reach Recreational Facility
Stupid replacement

Andreas and had survived the world known as Frontier. He had seen most of his unit in action in the tunnels of the mine. With marines, ODSTs, and Covenant. His squad had lost three members, and one had been placed on medical leave. Andreas hadn't escaped unscathed, his cybernetic arm had taken damage and wasn't exactly in working condition. So he had needed a replacement. Which with the resources on Reach he had retrieved a new one. Sadly it was brand new and needed broken in.

Standing before him was the Civilian Recreation Facility the gathering had been put in. He fidgeted in his service uniform his new arm dangling from his shoulder. Frost grinned as he began walking towards the doors. He pondered whom all would be at the meeting. He knew the Colonel had the event, but he didn't really know anyone outside his platoon. Frost paused to look at his uniform as spotless as it was it still shocked him how few metals and ribbons he had received. He shook his head pulled on his collar and flattened his hair once more. He smiled to himself when he believed he was presentable, and burst through the doors to find very two people already inside. The one at the front he assumed was the Colonel, the other he had seen once or twice during the fighting on frontier, but hadn't really interacted. He approached calmly, marking the rank insignia as he did.

"Morning Captain... " He paused briefly to inspect the nameplate. "Sorelson. Mind if I join you?" Frost asked with a smile.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March, 2548: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

“Afternoon, Sergeant Frost,” Mark said with a smile after being approached by the Staff Sergeant of the One-Five-Three, and took in the man’s nameplate and rank. “I don’t mind, and it seems the Colonel, you and I are the first ones here,” He said rising to his feet to take the man’s hand. “I’m glad you survived the fighting on Frontier, and it’s an honor to have fought besides you and the ODSTs of the One-Five-Three,”

[SPARTAN-A120]

Corporal Fredrick Mitchell
120th MEU, ECo./2/15, 1PLT-2nd Squad
March 11th, 2548 - 1:11 Local Time
Recreational Facility, Reach
"Taking my Mind Off Things"

Mitchell was on his second set of repetitions on the bench press machine. He was lifting 120 pounds with a 50 pound and 10 pound weight on either side. His breathing was in rhythm with every push and return of the bar and he made sure that it touched his chest before locking it back upwards.

He didn't intend to come to the weight room as soon as he stepped foot in the rented facility, but when he heard that there was a weight lifting room nearby, he tried to sneak away from the gathering crowd of service members as discreetly as possible and changed into workout clothes which consisted of a black tank top, black track pants, and running sneakers.

No, Mitchell wasn't an alcoholic. He didn't drown his failures drinking. Instead, he relied on working out as his method to take his mind off things and blow off some steam. He was a social guy, but today, he was not ready to socialize. Especially in dress blues that he came with earlier.

The recent mission on Planet XVB 2476 was going as planned for the first half, but when the Covenant reinforcements arrived, it become nothing less of a clusterfuck. Indeed, the casualties were relatively light when the 120th were retaking the Titanium Mines, but the Covenant Army that arrived had came in like a tidal wave of destruction. The same also happened in space above Frontier. Even though the UNSC Navy had the same amount of ships as the Covenant, they were no match with the technological advancements the Covenant possessed.

Mitchell was tired of the failure. The mere thought of it made his blood boil. This sent streams of adrenaline throughout his body and he was bench pressing harder. His rhythmic breathing became unfamilar and he was soon grunting. What number was he up to? He had lost count.

"Woah... easy there, man. You're gonna kill yourself before the enemy can," a nearby Marine said. Apparently, they were the only two in the weight lifting room.

"I know... my... limits," Mitchell grunted and said after each bench press.

After four more repetitions, Mitchell locked the bar in place by rotating it forward and sat up. He was out of breath and his chest and arms were starting to feel fatigue, but he ignored it and took a swig of water from his bottle.

"See..." Mitchell said to the other Marine and smirked. "All good. Semper Fi, brother." Mitchell got up and made his way towards the multiple sets of dumb bells on the rack along the wall and grabbed two 40 pounders.

[Arusani]

Staff Sergeant Andreas Frost, 153rd ODST company, third platoon.
Reach Recreational Facility

Frost grinned as he heard the Captain address him. When the Captain rose and extended his hand to shake Andreas shuttered. The hand that was extended was unluckily the right hand. Andreas slowly with the mechanisms grinding slightly extended the appendage and carefully took the man's hand and shook.

"Yea. I hate that I lost my arm in the blasted mines, but I can't argue that I'd rather be dead for it either. My new one needs a field test before I can go back into fighting. Besides the marines were the ones who did most of the fighting. The pleasure's all mine." He said before taking the back of the chair in his good hand and spinning ti around and sitting down.

[rickrtickr]

Staff Sergeant Malcom Reynolds, 153rd ODST company, third platoon.
Reach Recreational Facility

Malcom had only just arrived at the facility but he already knew where he was headed. he had seen Sergeant Frost when he entered and needed to catch up since the Frontier mission.

"Hello again Staff Sergeant, Not sure if you remember me or not, I lead the demolitions team in the mines." Malcolm said as he walked up to Frost and Captain Sorelson.

"It is also nice to finally meet you Captain"

Malcom Held out his hand to either of the two men in front of him.

"Have either of you seen the Colonel yet?"

[Arusani]

Staff Sergeant Andreas Frost, 153rd ODST company, third platoon.
Reach Recreational Facility

Frost heard the door's and instantly turned to see yet another ODST dress uniform approaching. He recognized the rank instantly, but not the face. Suddenly he saw a butterfly in one of the windows and his attention was lost as he glared at it's gracious wings. The way it flied so soothing compared to the war the humans around it were facing.

"SO soothing, I wish I were you young butterfly. Perhaps then my life would be at ease." He murmured inaudible to the party around him. He didn't hear the first statement although he did catch the second. For the first time Frost realized he hadn't really seen the Col yet. Although he had to be here at some point otherwise the doors would have been locked.

"I don't believe I know the whereabouts of the Colonel, Staff Sergeant Reynolds." Andreas stated.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

“Yeah. I hate that I lost my arm in the blasted mines, but I can’t argue that I’d rather be dead for it either. My new one needs a field test before I can go back into fighting. Besides, the marines were the ones who did most of the fighting. The pleasure’s all mine,” Staff Sergeant Andreas Frost replied, returning Mark’s gesture and shook his hand.

“I know the feeling. I lost my leg on Refuge after that damned EMP blast. Losing a limb never gets easy, but it’s better it’s a limb than the other mechanics of nature,” Mark said. “We’re all Marines. The One-Five-Three, the Fifty-Third Combat Engineers, the One-Twentieth MEU. The credit belongs to each of us, and to every person out there with the courage to tell the Covenant where to shove it. I hope you don’t mind hearing this, but every marine is a sibling. We’re all brothers and sisters in uniform, taking up the uniform for whatever reasons unique to the marine. Those mines were a blasted furball, and every single one of us that survived is one more rifle the Covenant have to contend with,”

“I could say you’ll get used to having a prosthetic, but I’m sure the shrinks and Corpsmen have already told you that,” He’d been about to reclaim his seat when another ODST, a Staff Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds in his dress uniform approached. Mark opted to remain standing, at the arrival of the other marine. “An honor, Sergeant,” he said, offering his hand. “The Colonel’s near the bar. I’d imagine he’s preparing a few things, or seeing the freezers and grill have been properly cleaned for us. When I arrived, he was standing near the bar waiting to see whom will attend this little gathering. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you,” he explained. “I’m glad you made it out of those mines, Malcolm,”

[rickrtickr]

Staff Sergeant Malcom Reynolds, 153rd ODST company, third platoon.
Reach Recreational Facility

Malcom shook the Captains hand, and realized he had rather awkwardly interrupted a conversation (or perhaps had arrived at the conclusion of one) and fumbled before he came to his senses. It was weird in a way, Malcom had no problems being shot into the vacuum of space, through a planets atmosphere and crashing into the surface; but it was the little things that scared him to death, for example a simple conversation could cause him to sweat like no other. Today however he could at least blame it on the dress uniform as the source of the perspiration.

"Thank you sir." Malcolm finally managed, "I am glad to see that my men got out more than myself, we lost a lot of good soldiers in those mines."

Malcom looked Staff Sergeant Frost up and down, and noticed the glint of metal underneath his dress jacket. "I came darned close to having one of those myself." Malcom said nodding at the prosthetic.
He pulled back the sleeve of his uniform and displayed the scarred and only barely healed tissue of his arm and hand. "It is hard to tell when the new guy will or won't know it is time to duck. But I guess you only get that through the experience of battle, and the mines were one of the worst battles I have been part of."

[Guardian Cat of Yappa's]

Staff Sergeant Maximilian "Drake" Fields

120th Marine Expeditionary Unit

1:13 pm, Reach Rec Center

A few minutes late

    As Drake finished parking his car, he craned forward slightly and looked up at the facility. "A recreations center, huh, wonder if the ol' Colonel is going soft on us now." The words only reaching his ears since no one else was in his car with him. He had left a few minutes late, all that was needed though to get caught in traffic, because of an unexpected visit from an officer. On his arm rested anew insignia, for his new rank of Staff Sergeant. As he stepped out of the car, he ran his hand over the patch on his arm one more time, still not used to having that particular patch there.

    Course, Drake decided that he wouldn't worry about it as he walked into the building, finding that people had already crowded around into groups. Instantly he spotted out Captain Sorelson, the man had kinda become an inspiration of his, and he had also saved his life back at that dam water plant. Normally he'd step up and greet the man, but it seemed as though he was having a conversation with two ODSTs. So Instead, he looked towards the bar and proceeded over, a drink sounded mighty fine right now.

[Samuel Murray]

Private First Class Samuel Murray
Gathering


The war had been dragging on for ages now, or so Samuel thought. He had only been in service for a year now, but had seen more than most men would see in their lifetime. The once boastful Marine, now sullen and sunken. He approached the doors of the facility--pausing to catch a look at the surroundings,, as Families and fellow marines poured into the facility, many wearing their medals and achievements.

Samuel glanced down towards his own service uniform--barren--a small frown forming on his face, he wasn't proud of his medals or honors, he had only been doing his job. "Murray..." A grizzled voice came from behind the young soldier--Booker. He turned back to see the aging Corporal.

"You smell of liquor," Sam muttered towards his old friend. 

"Could say the same about you kid," he chuckled as he clasped onto Sam's shoulder, "Let's just get this over with."

Sam nodded and entered into the facility. Families and Marines were scattered about, participating in various activities. Laughter and smiles could be seen throughout, and everyone was enjoying themselves. The young soldier shook his head, "How can they be having so much fun, eating...playing," his voice trailed away. Though all soldiers faced the same grotesque images, some could bear the weight--those with families had purpose to return from the war as soon as possible, they had jobs waiting for them, they had time to live--Samuel had experienced none of that, companionship, a sense of purpose. He was just another lost soul, fighting for the unlikely. 

"Try and not think about it," was Booker's only response.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

“If you‘ll excuse me. Have fun, relax and enjoy yourselves. Have a few cold ones,” Mark said, excusing himself from the two ODSTs that had gathered near his table. He‘d spotted Staff Sergeant Fields or Drake as he’d preferred, and had eventually found out after regaining consciousness on at that Water Treatment facility a few deployments back that the young Staff Sergeant had not only risked his own life in an attempt to save Mark’s own unconscious form, but had managed to reach a sand-bag defense barrier in time for an ordinance strike. Though, after keeping an eye on the Staff Sergeant briefly Spade had found the young marine had been engrossed in a few rounds at the bar. He wouldn’t disturb him, at least not until after he’d welcomed Private First Class Murray and the Corporal being the two newest arrivals at the recreational facility.

Crossing the floor, he‘d weaved his way around the tables and the tiny gatherings of both marines and their families. There were more than a few marines he‘d passed that had invited him to a poker game or two, or to regale their families in the exploits of the 120th MEU albeit omitting some of the more classified details. Mark smiled back each time, letting the know they‘d have their chance later with him poker or with darts or that his stories weren‘t as good as some of the others including the marine or ODST parents or siblings of families in attendance On his way, he‘d passed by the bar and plucked two cold bottles of soda from one of the coolers and proceeded towards the two younger marines.

“You two look like you could use these,” Mark said offering the two unopened cold bottles to the two younger marines. He’d caught the whiff of alcohol on the Corporal’s breath among others, and the young Private First Class seemed as dour and sullen as the older Corporal meaning Mark hadn’t felt right in giving either of them alcohol at least this early in the 120th MEU’s gathering. He’d witnessed first hand the effects of alcohol on sullen, withdrawn marines in the past, and hadn’t been about to encourage it. "I'm glad both of you could make it,"

[infinium]

Staff Sergeant Monti Heijman

Late Again



Monti walked through the front doors of the facility, arm in arm with his wife Mijke. He was wearing his service uniform with three rows of ribbons above his left pocket, and SSG Chevrons on his upper arms. He looked from side to side, seeing Marines and ODSTs alike were at various activities, and the bar.


Monti saw a man with captain bars by the bar talking to two Marines, and decided this would be an excellent way to meet people. Monti approached the man "Excuse me, Captain." Monti said. "I'm SSG Monti Heijman, and this is my wife Mijke." Montii held his hand out to the man, and Mijke simply smiled and nodded.

[Samuel Murray]

Samuel shifted the weight on his feet as Captain Sorelson approached--they had never spoken before. The CO of Echo Company, an easily recognizable face, his fading brown hair, and the prominent scar that stretched towards his chin. He was by no means a tall man, with many standing quite taller than the aging Captain, yet there was a sense of respect that made Mark bigger than life--he was one of the good men, in Samuel's eyes.

"Captain," Samuel said dryly, as he glanced towards the drink being held out towards him, "Eh...Thanks," his voice faded.

Corporal Booker, took the bottle, "No hard stuff, shame," he grinned for a moment--which quickly faded, not allowing himself to be happy for more than a short while.

Samuel felt awkward, he had never directly talked to the officer, the man in charge of his whole platoon--or what was left of it. They had taken devastating losses back on Frontier, which had become a trend dating back to the Battle of Refuge. "When will we find out who our new El-Tee is, the last one took a crystal to the dome, and half of first platoon was killed in the bloody counta' attack." He paused as a man and woman approached, he didn't know them.

He rolled his eyes as the man held out his hand towards Mark. Booker grumbled at the introduction, muttering to himself, "Fucking New Guy.." Sam glanced back towards his old friend and nodded--hopefully this man wouldn't end up like the others he new.

There was a saying that every soldier knew when a shell was going to fall, with little idea of where it would exactly land, and with it came a chance that you'd be hit, yet every soldier continued to take their chances--no soldier ever outlived hundreds of these chances, and Samuel had come to the conclusion that he would receive his one day.

---

Tag: Cabel and infinium

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

“Private…Corporal,” Mark replied. “Don‘t mention it. No, I couldn‘t give you the hard stuff. It‘s not that I wouldn‘t give you a bottle or two, but it‘s going fast,”

“When will we find out who our new El-Tee is, the last one took a crystal to the dome, and half of first platoon was killed in the bloody counta‘ attack,” he heard Samuel say.

“We’re receiving replacements, most fresh from boot from Camps here on Reach or incoming transports from Earth or other places. With the demand from our deployments leaving boots empty, Reach is perhaps the quickest source of those replacements. I’ll draw up a list of replacement marines for your Platoon as soon as I can get back to the base, and I’ll post it where everyone can see it in your platoon. I know you’ll show the Lieutenant the ropes, and let them know that any high degree they’ve earned isn’t an acknowledgment of the respect of his or her fellow marines. Your new Lieutenant will have to prove himself or herself to you in order to become acknowledged. I’m sorry to hear about your Lieutenant, but take the word of a former single striper we all see our brother and sister marines fall and we all mourn when we find the time. We never forget, and we never let them down. The fact you and the Corporal here are still alive is proof of that. If you feel you need to speak with me about anything and I mean anything, call me. If you can’t find me, I’ll find you. That goes for you too, Corporal Booker. Let your Platoon know. I’d rather know the marines in Echo Company can speak their peace, and know they’re not alone and that you‘re not alone,” Mark explained, having let Staff Sergeant Heijman and his wife know politely they’d have his undivided attention after a moment before he‘d let Sam and the Corporal know their CO wasn‘t one to think of himself above his marines.

“Staff Sergeant Heijman, an honor,” Mark said, with a smile and reached out to shake the marine‘s hand before looking over at the Staff Sergeant‘s wife. “A pleasure, Mijke, and an honor to meet the fine wife of a fellow marine. I hope your journey wasn’t too taxing, and if I may I believe your husband was waiting with anticipation,” he said, with a smile. “Get something to drink, a few burgers, and join in the gathering. I think most of the 120th MEU’s here, or almost here as it is. The Colonel’s somewhere among these marines,”

[Samuel Murray]

Private Samuel Murray, Echo Company

Sam scowled at the comment, he and the survivors of his squad were alive out of pure chance, not because of some survival instinct that he had acquired when others did not. Mendez, Gregory, Stockton, and the others were good soldiers that received the short end of the stick. "Wit' all due respect sir..." Samuel paused as he locked eyes with his CO, "Back on Refuge, my platoon was on one of the last birds to attempt to touch down in the city....When the EMP hit our bird crashed down into an office building--I was knocked out on impact."

Samuel sighed as he closed his eyes, Booker tensed up as he moved closer--putting his hand on the young soldier's shoulder. "I woke up to Booker shakin' me...he thought I had internal injuries. With my head ringing I began to regain my vision, only to see that my best friend, Louis Mendez sat dead beside me--shrapnel pierced through his chest." Samuel began to collect his thoughts, Mendez's face appeared in his mind, it used to bring him sadness, it was the first casualty he had ever witnessed, it changed him. "There was several others that died on the impact...But, we had to move towards the LZ, as we were moving the building's supports began to give, and we had to book it. Our sergeant's foot got trapped behind a fallen pillar--we had to leave him," he lowered his attention away from the Captain, "I hope you realize Captain, that the reason, Booker, you or I are alive is pure chance. If I was in Mendez's seat and he in mine, he'd be here today. If I ran a fraction slower, I would have been trapped in the pillar too....I suppose It'll come one day."

---

Tag: Cabel

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:11 PM “Civilian Time“/1311 Zulu Time]

“Wit’ all due respect sir…” he heard Sam’s response. “Back on Refuge, my platoon was on one of the last birds to attempt to touch down in the city… When the EMP hit, our bird crashed down into an office building -- I was knocked out on impact. I woke up to Booker shakin’ me…he thought I had internal injuries. With my head ringing, I began to regain my vision only to see that my best friend, Louis Mendez sat dead beside me -- shrapnel pierced through his chest. There was several others that died on impact…But, we had to move towards the LZ. As we were moving, the building’s supports began to give and we had to book it. Our Sergeant’s foot got trapped behind a fallen pillar-- we had to leave him. I hope you realize, Captain, that the reason Booker, you and I are alive is pure chance. If I was in Mendez’ seat and he in mine, he’d be here today. If I ran a fraction slower, I would have been trapped in the pillar too…I suppose it’ll come one day,”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, and I’m sorry if my words gave insult. I didn’t mean to imply any,” Mark replied turning his attention back towards Sam and Booker. “You weren’t the only ones to have lost friends that day. Your bird wasn’t the only one downed by that EMP wave. Your bird was to follow mine in. Everything changed once that wave hit, and while I’m not certain of how long I’d been out of it I came too to find myself hanging upside down with my feet above my head still strapped into the crash-seat. With the issued Kabar, I cut through the restraints and landed on my back. I was used to cushion the landing of a Sergeant that hadn’t perished, and together we discovered more than half the marines aboard along with the flight crew with the exception of the crew chief had died on impact. I’d dislocated my left shoulder, and managed to gather what supplies I’d been able to with a few of the survivors. We’d only managed to get the ramp open, lifted above us when another marine unit met us on the rooftop. Their bird, from what I understand had landed in the street below and the marines had rushed upstairs to investigate,” he began. “The building had been a high rise, some high rise apartment building I think and the damage from both the impacts of the fighting to the pelicans crashing into it had weakened it. When the building gave way, I remember reaching out to grab a piece of the roof before sliding down to the street-level. It was a ride I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I must have blacked out, as I recall regaining consciousness to find myself pinned under a massive chunk of instacrete. Intense pain shot through me while I attempted to wriggle out from beneath it, and after reaching down with my right hand felt a piece of rebar had gone through my left thigh. I couldn’t move, and had no way of knowing if the marines from my downed bird had even survived or the marines from that other bird had. A couple of Army troopers with their Medic had been able to gather up some civilians, and had gone to my aid. They had to cut through that rebar, and I won’t tell you how much I wanted to cry out in bloody murder when that rebar had been pulled through. I lost both my left thigh, and leg to blood loss and gangrene,”

“I know your pain. I understand it, and I know how the faces of your friends haunt you every time you close your eyes or even allow yourself to think. I know. I remember each of the faces, each of the names, ranks, and serial numbers of every marine that I’ve ever fought alongside, that I’ve ever had the grace and honor of serving with, of commanding. You never get used to it. I can tell you which ones had families, which ones had siblings and even which ones could hold their liquor or which ones had gas worse than the stuff the Grunts breath on the field. You’ll never forget. I didn’t mean that their lives were the cost for yours, Booker's, mine and every other marine’s survival. I didn’t mean that at all. I know that you remember them, and will always remember them. I don't want you to take what I've said to mean that my tale is any better or worse than yours. You have your own tales to tell,”

“I meant that we never forget because we can’t. We can’t afford to,” he said, taking on a more somber tone. “ We’re here to remember them. I wish I could tell you it would become easier, but it won’t. The only thing you can do is to come to understand why. I know Louis Mendez, and the others that had been in your pelican would have wanted you to continue not for their sakes, but for yours. It’s why I extended the open invite, without an expiration date that if you ever need to talk to me about anything you have my attention,”

“As for gatherings like this, these are more for our sanity and for those around us…to keep the civilians pleased in their morning papers than they are to have us parade our medals and ribbons on our own account. I won’t glorify the war, and I’ll be damned if I tried,” he said, glad the music in the place and the conversations going on had been enough to drown out any eavesdroppers.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
120th Marine Expeditionary Unit
March 11th, 2548; 1:14 PM 'Civilian' Time

A couple minutes had past, but it seemed like a week and rolled over and started anew, perhaps John was tired and needed some more rest. Mentally, physically and emotionally most of the Marines from previous operations were also fatigued - they needed a solid rotation, a ton of rest and morale boosts. Most of the 120th MEU came from the 7th Marine Regiment, and the seventh served on battlefields ranging from Sanctuary and Refuge to Frontier; from December to the present the Marines of those units were on constant alert, only returning to Reach to rearm, before redeploying to engage the Covenant again.

I need to sit down for a while, John thought. He spotted a lounge chair, casually approached it... and sat down, retrieving his data pad a moment later. He proceeded to log into his email address and read off from the top, judging if something was worth his time based on the topic title. Most of them were from family, as expected, but he was more interested in reading the emails from his children. Travis and Kyle were still in the Marines and Adrianna was on granted leave of absence for obvious reasons; thankfully they were all okay. Travis was serving miles away from the front lines, with the 222nd ODST Battalion. Kyle had been reassigned to Earth, where he was stationed with the historical Second Battalion, Fifth Marines now stationed at Camp Pendleton. Unfortunately, no new emails from his kids were in his inbox.

But he knew Jenny was around, question was... where?

He was satisfied that his boys were away from the fighting, but couldn't help but think about the parents who knew their children were serving very, very close to the front line. Kids, some as young as sixteen still, were serving in the 120th Marine Expeditionary Unit. John didn't know why the enlistment age was sixteen, but it was; he could argue until his face was blue but High Command wouldn't change it... but what he could change was how much rest he had.

He closed his eyes with an exhale, placing his hat cover over his face, and attempted to have a nap.

[Samuel Murray]

Private First Class Samuel Murray, Echo Company

SPOILER: Click to show

Booker pulled away from the young soldier as the Captain spoke. The words pierced deep within them, bringing back memories that they had tried to forget. But, the pain was just too much. "If you'll excuse me," Booker shot out as he stepped away towards the crowd. 

Samuel couldn't blame Thomas, they had all lost something that day. For the young Scotsman it was hope for a better tomorrow. He like many of the younger soldier's had been told they would become heroes, that they would turn the tide of the war and save the human race, that they would come home to a society that would cheer on its protectors--these conventions were abandon at the first shelling of plasma. Samuel listened as the Captain spoke, he was silent for a moment, "I...I don't know anymore sir," he whispered, "The only home I have...is the front."

---

Tag: Cabel

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:14 PM “Civilian Time“/1314 Zulu Time]

“If you’ll excuse me,” he heard Booker say before the Corporal turned and stepped away from them.

“I…I don’t know anymore, Sir. The only home I have…is the front,” Sam replied.

“I know,” Mark began. “Back home, we’re told to fight for Mom, the UEG way, and Apple Pie. The truth, we’re fighting for ourselves as much as for the marines sharing the fox hole. It’s a lie, a gilded lie told to civilians to keep them happy and to make them think they know more about the military than those of us fighting in the mud,”

“I’ve read your file, and the Corporal’s. The front has become more a home for us orphans than our home planets or ships. We’re all orphans, but we’re family. I won’t give you a history lesson, as I’m sure you’ve heard them before, but our family…the anchor chain, the eagle, the globe spans as far back through the centuries first the British and then the American Revolution. We’re a family the folks back home either decide not to see or fail to see. They give us respect, more out the uniform and their own deceived knowledge of what we do than for what we are,” the aging Captain explained before moving closer to Sam and lowered his voice.

“I won’t be going anywhere, Sam. The Corps is honor, is family. We look after our own, and we fight for our own. As a D.I. ages ago or what seemed ages ago, I used to see wet-behind the ears and eager recruits lining their feet up in the angled prints and I’d hear their stories. I tried to be as much an instructor, a mentor as a father and a friend,” he said before slowly lifting a hand and if Sam allowed placed it gently on the young man’s shoulder. “I can tell you’re not some false bravado, some snot nosed kid fresh from the suburbs. I won’t force this, and it is of my own request. You can refuse, and I wouldn’t take offense. You can accept, and I promise I won’t leave you. I won’t ridicule you. I’ll be there if you need me. If you would have it, that is? I’d like to be your mentor, and I won’t lie. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get through it. I’ll offer the same to Corporal Booker, if he’ll have it. I’m not your biological father, or related in that sense, but honor doesn’t abide by limits,”

“I used to tell recruits in my charge, my training platoon and later the one I presided over as D.I., that you need to ignore what they tell you back home. You need to forget the notion that we’re fighting for Mom, the UEG Way and Apple Pie. The one thing you need to remember, you need to accept is that you are here. You will always be here. You will always be a marine. You don’t have to be the toughest son-of-a-bitch around, or the meanest. It’s alright to cry, or break down. I once told someone that we don’t tear you down, or rebuild you. You do that. I’d rather have marines that have a heart, that have a good cry when they feel they need to than ones that are brick walls. You’re a good kid, Sam. You and Booker. Someone once told me that to be tough on the field one has to be without fear, but you know what I told that cold-hearted Lance Corporal when I'd been a Corporal? Fear means you‘re alive. It means you know to cry, and then I pushed him into a lake we’d been walking by. He used to dupe me into playing poker games when we’d both been Privates, and he’d always cheat me out of both rack time and pay. I think he retired, actually and bought a place on Earth somewhere in some city or drank himself into a stupor every night. I’m not sure. I lost track of him over the years since our rotation on the Moon Echidna,”

“I can say that you’ll remember these times, but we both know that’s a pile of steaming horse shit when you’re in a foxhole somewhere freezing your…toes off. You won’t remember these times, but you’ll remember those you grew close too and whom helped you when it mattered. I want to help you, Sam and I want to help Corporal Booker too. That is, if you’ll allow it?” he concluded.

[Samuel Murray]

Private First Class Samuel Murray


The Captain moved closer towards him--the young man's green eyes peering up towards the aging man as he spoke. His aging voice spoke softly, melting away the crowd and noise that went on around the center, leaving just Samuel and Mark. “I can tell you’re not some false bravado, some snot nosed kid fresh from the suburbs. I won’t force this, and it is of my own request. You can refuse, and I wouldn’t take offense. You can accept, and I promise I won’t leave you. I won’t ridicule you. I’ll be there if you need me. If you would have it, that is? I’d like to be your mentor, and I won’t lie. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get through it. I’ll offer the same to Corporal Booker, if he’ll have it. I’m not your biological father, or related in that sense, but honor doesn’t abide by limits.”
 
Samuel's eyes focused on the man's scar, too scared to stare him in the eyes. The possibility of a mentor, it was a heart whelming feeling, that brought a pang of sadness. He never knew his real father, Specialist Keenan Murray, who died during one of the first Covenant invasions. Everything he had ever learned about being a man, he had to teach himself. After joining the Corps, Booker had looked after him and the rest of his fireteam, but his methods were unorthodox and shortsighted--Samuel saw him as an older brother. At the proposition, Samuel couldn't help but break down. He planted his head into the Captain's chest, no longer able to hold or care to keep in his emotions in check. He broke down, "I...I never knew my father... Th..thank you."

---

Tag: Cabel

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:14 PM “Civilian Time“/1314 Zulu Time]

“I…I never knew my father…Th…Thank you,” Sam managed to say, his voice barely a whisper before the younger man broke down planting his head on Mark’s chest.

A father, an officer, but more importantly a man that knew what loss had been and had seen more than one young man or woman become little more than a headstone or a pair of dog-tags Spade allowed his arms to slip around the younger man to console him. The others be damned, if they criticized him for it. Humanity had been what they had been fighting for, and humanity had been a rare sight in these last few years.

“Let it out, lad,” Mark said softly, as a father would. “Give a good cry. You’ve held onto the burden long enough. You honor me, Sam. Let it out, and have a good ol’cry,”

[Samuel Murray]

Sam felt a rush of emotion, sadness, and anger. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his face, it was all just too much and he knew he may draw a scene. He pulled away and gave a nod towards the man before taking a step back. He wiped his eyes and took a few glances before making his way towards the exit.

[Guardian Cat of Yappa's]

Staff Sergeant Maximilian "Drake" Fields

120th Marine Expeditionary Unit

1:15 pm, Reach Rec Center

People already crying

TAGs: Cabel 

The bartender had been kind to Fields when he walked up, noticing the SSGT insignia, he instantly reached for a bottle of whiskey. A little dust fell off of it as he pulled it off the top shelf. 'Guessing no-one drinks on Reach anymore'

"Assuming you're gonna want the stronger stuff sir."  

A simple nod from Fields was all the indication the bartender needed to pour him a shot, which he downed instantly. The sting of the alcohol against his throat felt pretty good, though he couldn't ever figure out why it did. "One more shot and then I'm done for the day, gotta stay sober for all the Greenhorns." 

Before the bartender could even finish the pouring the shot though, he could hear someone breaking down. He twisted slightly to look behind him, too see that it was some marine with Captain Spade. The ol'man was one of the few faces that hadn't died on him yet, and he cared about his men. Fields admired that about him, you don't see to many officers like that these days. 'Acceptable losses' Bulls*** made up a good portion of chatter among officers to his understanding. Course, he could be wrong, but the only man to do that so far besides the Captain was the Colonel. 2 outta thousands, not enough to change his opinion on the majority of the brass around the UNSC.

"Hold that drink actually, I think I gotta play clean-up crew."  Fields stated has he moved through the crowd to the Captain and the other marine, who he still hadn't recognized. As he got closer, he caught the tail end of what the Captain was saying,  "Let it out, and have a good ol’cry."


Fields walked up and half saluted Spade before leaning towards the man's ear "Captain, I don't mean to interrupt, but I recommend moving into one of the side rooms before continuing this therapy session." His voice crept into his ear so that the other marine wouldn't hear his remark. Hopefully the captain would take his advice.

(OOC Note: will add the color coding for other PC reference at a later time when I have freetime)

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani: Planet: Reach: Location: Recreational Facility: 120th MEU: Echo Company: Captain Mark “Spade“ Sorelson: 11 March: 1:15 PM “Civilian Time“/1315 Zulu Time]

“Captain, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I recommend moving into one of the side rooms before continuing this therapy session,” he’d heard a familiar voice, that of Staff Sergeant “Drake” Fields whisper into his ear.

“I appreciate the advice, and the warning, Drake. I doubt we’ll need to follow it through, since it seems it was over even before it began,” Spade replied, in a whisper as Sam ran off to collect himself and to one of the exits. He’d let Sam and Booker have the time they needed, and knew it would only make matters worse if he’d gone after them. “Sometimes, it’s moments like that that keep the humanity in us. Sam…Private First Class Murray needed someone to show him some humanity, and to remind him and Corporal Booker that we’re not alone,”

“I wouldn’t have continued out here if it had gone any further, for the record. I do appreciate your advice, and how are you faring, Drake? Those damned tunnels were a wasp’s nest. I’m glad you managed to make it out, and I’m glad you decided to attend this little gathering,” the aging Captain turned to face the marine that had personally saved his hide on more than one occasion beginning in that Water Treatment Facility on the colony Protector. Returning the gesture, he’d snap off a salute letting Drake relax and offered to shake the man’s hand. “Shaking your hand doesn’t bring justice to what you did back on Protector, or on Frontier. I'll pay for the next few rounds. It's the least I can do,”

[tento125]

Staff Sergeant Shinji Akiwara
120th Marine Expeditionary Unit
Reach Recreational Facility

God it's been a while Shinji thought to himself. Bout time I take a break from killing aliens. He had just returned from his last mission and had been granted some R&R at the planet's recreational facility along with his entire squad. However, for some reason they chose not to attend the event and he had to come alone. Shinji didn't ask his mates why, he knew they had their reasons and chose not to press the issue further.

Is there any bars round here? he asked himself. He has never been here before and he didn't know what's where. Also, where the hell is everyone? Ever since he entered the facility, Shinji saw absolutely no one. Suddenly, he heard some chatter down a hallway and he decided to follow the sound. Sure enough, he located the source of the chatter, a group of marines. Perfect he said to himself and went to get some sense of direction in this facility.

"Hey guys!" he called out. "Where is everyone? And are there any bars here?"