Mission Nine - A Hairline Fracture

[Faclan]

Kael Gel - T'vaoan Mama
Covenant staging area
Support for the war effort.

With the Commandos moving out to ensure the Entourage was ready to move Kael focused her full attention onto Roh. Her helmet hid her face but Kael sucking in air and visibly tensing when Roh removed his helmet showed that she herself was still going to grips with ONI had done to her little chick. It was something she would never forgive Humans for. Farmers were different...but ONI had taken one chick for her and permanently scarred mentally and physically the other. There would be no mercy or second though if she found one of them.

She was silent however besides that as Roh talked, and once he was finished she stepped forward and pulled Roh into a hug. It made he equal parts sad and proud to see Roh like this - sad that he was hurting, but proud that he still wanted to do his duty despite it all. Holding the hug for about five seconds she released Roh and took a breath before speaking herself.

"Roh, duty to the Gel is well and good - and I am very proud you hold that dear, but you," a frown. "Are still recovering and likely will be for awhile. It is perfectly acceptable for you to voice these concerns as me forcing you to do something you may have trouble with is not how to Commando or Mother when there are others to use. Its not just you here, you have myself and the entire Entourage to back you up and one day you'll have Gel and our allies too. Vesa was going to be joining the hunting parties and while you would be a great help there there are more tasks needing your skill than just that." Taking a step back from the hugging range Kael hummed a bit. "And I suspect that a lot of the Hectic forces will be mercenaries or ones press ganged into service, especially at the outskirts as 'Kasai would keep his most trusted and loyal close to him. Just try to find a Kig-Yar or a twitchy looking Sangheili and you probably won't even need to do anything to them besides offer them an out. The Jiralahane would be a good fear factor to make them accept a deal quickly and then we can easily smuggle them out."

She shrugged before patting Rohs shoulder with a smile. "But while you do need to do your duty Roh, duty is often flexible - and even when its given by the Split-Faces you can often bend it a bit to the betterment of you, your friends, and Kig-Yar in general - always remember that my Son."

Glancing to the side as she received a report from her Commandos she give a click that she had received before looking back at Roh - waiting to see what he wanted to do in this battle. "Very good work on the Arrestor training by the way - I'm glad you got some new skills and been years since I've seen one of them in an official deployment."

(Vesa is the talkative female Commando - uses footblades and an R-5. Just info for myself and BetaW for later. Also sorry for short, was durring a bit on this post - but proud and hopefully supportive Mama.)

[Astro]

████ Hours, ████████ ██, 2551 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Iowa, Panis Eterni System

Sgt Jock McPherson
2nd Battalion, 15th Marines
Tornado 2-1

"Two-One, we're stepping off anytime now. Make sure you're fucking set," addressed McPherson as he entered the hangar and took his position overlooking his squad. They stood in three lines of four, leaders bringing up the front of their teams. All twelve men were geared up and ready to go. None looked nervous, only did they itch to board one of the three Pelicans behind them. Second and third squad were organised the same, lined up in front of their respective birds and waiting for the platoon headquarters to arrive.

Over to his right, he saw the squad leaders of 2-2 and 2-3 walking around, checking the gear of their men. McPherson needn't bother; his Marines had good team leaders that kept them in check. He could see from here that each team was carrying the equipment that they needed to operate as their elements: assault, support and security. As he was eyeing the specifics of the equipment, such as the pair of yellow smoke grenades on Corporal Payne's rig used for marking controlled dets, a Marine from behind Alpha's team leader spoke up.

"Sergeant, we're not going in without a brief are we?" asked the Private First Class.

"We're waiting on Platoon. I imagine they're waiting on Company," McPherson responded. "We all know how the chain works."

"Slow as fuck," came a familiar voice over his shoulder. 2-1's Corpsman, Hospitalman McCloskey, stood beside him after having returned from a pre-op BAS briefing.

"Alright Doc? You got some details on this?"

"Just CCPs and callsigns for CASEVAC."

McPherson nodded at the HN's response but didn't offer anything back. His squad traded murmurs, waiting for Platoon HQ to arrive with the brief. They did so shortly, along with Company HQ, though the briefing was held. Instead, Captain Sorelson came out with a bit of moto to inspire his Marines. It had never really done it for McPherson; back in the day, his Platoon Sergeant had delivered some grin-winning speeches, though that was usually due to their hilariously creative obscenities. His mind went to the brutal demise of SSgt Antrozi for a second, pushed out immediately in favour of inspecting the map of the AO. As of yet, no tactical control measures or any other sort of markers had been placed.

"Two-One, all set El-Tee," nodded McPherson to his HQ once the speech was over.

---

OOC: Not sure if 2nd Platoon, Echo Co. actually has a PC Platoon Commander. Do you want to take the role if not, Cabel ?

[Deleted]

Private JC Torngate
153rd ODST company
42nd Shock Troops Battalion
UNSCS Iowa


After a while they had manged to get access to their gear. Willow had loaded up with her customized- but still regulation- SMG/M6-SOCOM combination, Rodriquez forgoing his regular sniper rifle for an assault rifle, Kingstrup loading down with grenades, a DMR, and a few pouches of C4. Torngate came last, grabbing his BR-55 and his M6-SOCOM pistol. They all worked down to the Pods, though not powering on the pods stowed their gear, knowing the call would come soon.

There wasn't much for them to do, so they stood outside with their weapons, checking over each piece of gear. They checked over their weapons and their squadmates weapons, knowing that they might not have time for such things later on. Their helmets and armor were donned, so it was impossible to tell their emotional state, especially as they were all silent. They simply sat and waited for the call to do something.

[SPARTAN-A120]

Corporal Fredrick Mitchell
120th MEU, ECo./2/15, 1PLT-2nd Squad, Fireteam Bravo
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Rally Compartment
Enroute to Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551
“When in doubt…”
(Tags: Cabel , Guardian Cat of Yappa's , MrKill , & whoever is the LT of 1st PLT)


Corporal Mitchell and his fireteam were in a staggered line formation along with the squads, fireteams, and platoons that were within Echo Company. Almost everyone in the rally were talking amongst themselves which included Mitchell's own team.

“Hey, Gordon. Do you know if we'll have support on the ground and in the air?” McMillan asked.

Private First Class McMillan had recently qualified for the grenadier position and now had a M301 Modular Grenade Launcher attached under his MA5C.

“We'll know soon enough when we're briefed, McMillan,” replied Lance Corporal Gordon. “Besides, we can always request for emergency fire missions from Steel Rain if they're going to set up in time. In the meanwhile, if we take good defensive positions and drive back the Covvies, we won't need the support.”

“Copy. It's good for morale to know. I don't want Covvie air support strafing us like they did on the last mission,” McMillan said with slight concern.

“We can always shoot them out the air,” Lance Corporal Carter chimed in. “We can engage with small arms if they're low enough like the Banshees. If not, we do have A-A teams on the ready with SPNKRs. Are you doubting the Marine Corps, McMillan?”

Carter pivoted slightly in a clockwise motion so he could look at McMillan.

“Na, man. I… I was just asking…” McMillan trailed off. He looked downwards and looked at the rifle that was slung onto his chest. His right hand tightened around the pistol grip, but his trigger finger remained out of the trigger guard.

“Hey, McMillan,” Mitchell intervened. “Don't worry about it. I'll bet we'll have Scorpions alongside us on the ground with eyes in the sky provided by the ‘Hawks and Pelicans. Ain't nothing to worry about.”

Mitchell then tapped Carter’s shoulder and motioned him to return to formation. The Lance Corporal nodded and apologized. “My bad, McMillan,” he said in a louder tone so he could be heard over the other Marines talking. After that happened, he spotted Captain Sorelson and other Marines up the chain enter the rally from his left, but another Marine had called out, “Officers on deck,” before Mitchell could form words in his mouth. “It's about time. In formation, men,” Mitchell said to his team. They had been waiting for roughly a half an hour for the briefing to initiate and almost everyone grew restless.

Every Marine in Echo Company repositioned themselves to form a proper formation and held their weapons in the appropriate fashion as Captain Sorelson made his way to the front of the room. Rifles presented, chests out, and heads held high to illustrate discipline and respect that would make the Marine Corps proud. Mitchell quickly scanned around him to make sure his team and himself were in the correct spots before Echo Company’s CO made it to the front of the Company. He knew it was bad to stare at an officer, but it didn't hurt to observe what was in front of him.

What he saw was interesting as Captain Sorelson and Golf Company's CO, Captain Walker, exchanged a few words and shook hands before Sorelson started his speech. He couldn't hear what they were saying since they were a bit too far for ears’ reach and their quiet tone of voice were meant to be a private conversation.

It's been months of non-stop QRF work to repel Covenant attacks and defeat them at home, but the war efforts seemed like the UNSC and Humanity were struggling to keep up everyday. They were lucky enough to have at least a fews days of rest and recovery before the next mission which felt like only a few hours of R and R.

Mitchell was still wondering where the Lieutenant and Platoon Sergeant were. Maybe they were in the front rows of the formation so they could extract some intel from the higher ups before they could pass it down the chain. It was like a game of “Telephone.” The longer the intel stalled from heading down the chain of command, the more distorted the information was. This was a rare occurrence for most of the 120th MEU as everyone agreed that communication meant everything, but when on-the-spot promotions occurred and some lucky bastard managed to get upped a pay grade because of a war time loophole, information is bound to get mixed up and that could result in the death of good men and women. If poor leadership is all it took to make the organization fall apart, brass needed to re-evaluate their promotions with thoroughness and made sure those names knew how to lead. Mitchell was ready to become a Squad Leader. It didn't scare him that this promotion could happen at any given time, place, and situation. With Staff Sergeant Fields becoming the Platoon Sergeant, he was wondering if their new Squad Leader had what it takes to lead the fireteams. The Corporal was not the kind of individual who followed blindly, but did not like to disobey orders. As long as this new Sergeant knew what he was doing, Mitchell had one less thing to worry about.

Captain Sorelson had started his brief and interrupted Mitchell’s train of thought. That was what he needed though. He needed a distraction to make him not think too much about the leadership capabilities of the newly promoted men and women in charge. “No heroes,” he heard the Captain say in particular.

Mitchell didn't play hero. He would go above and beyond, but he wasn't reckless and stupid enough to sacrifice his life unless it was absolutely necessary. He had taken a few rounds for a few officers and had survived on his own when he got separated from his team during his very first deployment. That wasn't a pleasant first mission for a green Marine and getting shot was not part of his agenda. It was not his personal choice, but more of an instinct. Officers were imperative on the battlefield and if Mitchell had not taken incoming fire for them, the Platoon Sergeant or Company Sergeant would have to take the lead. Mitchell didn't doubt the leadership of the SNCOs because of their roles as advisors and experienced war fighters, but he didn't want the burden to be placed on their shoulders. This situation was not for Mitchell to decide because that was why the chain of command and military structure is set up the way it is, but that was his mindset

During the middle of the speech, Mitchell speed movement to his right and he shifted his eyes away from Sorelson momentarily and saw as best as he could, a bald and tall man who was casually walking about. When he came into a good sight picture and out of Mitchell’s peripheral vision, he recognized the Battalion Commander, Colonel Killinger. Mitchell stared discreetly for a few more seconds before he returned his focus on Sorelson. There were rumors that the Colonel was planning for retirement. If rumors could spread faster than Intel down the chain, Mitchell thought the Corps was going down the wrong path. He didn't want to think about that now. There was time for probing afterwards.

After Sorelson concluded the brief, everyone including Mitchell shouted the Marine Corps’ war cry. “Oo-rah!” Well it did sound like everyone with entire Echo Company surrounding him, but there was a small chance that other Companies like Foxtrot or Golf were spent until their own COs spoke. Yet again, Mitchell was thinking about nonessential things too much.


“Alright, let's prep for deployment team! Double check your weapons and gear. Make sure everything is secure. I don't want anyone dropping mags or frags. If you have crap making noise on yourself or in your pack, strap it up and make it quiet. I don‘t want to compromise our presence with metal banging on metal when we clear buildings,” the Corporal yelled out.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Michael J. Kim
120th MEU, 49th Recon Platoon, Sniper Team Dagger 1
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Rally Compartment
Enroute to Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551


Kim and his spotter, Campbell, weren't seated, but wanted seats after waiting for everyone else in the Marine Expeditionary Unit to file in so that they would be given a pep talk by their COs and SNCOs before they were deployed to the planet below to fight off the Covenant. It seemed like the Covenant were always there first to stir things up before the UNSC could arrive and hand their own asses to them.

Besides the Army and the local militia with the aid of the local law enforcement, the Navy and Marine Corps had been late to the scene unless they were the ones being attacked. The sniper team had their fair share of defending ships from boarding parties or space pirates that were stupid enough to make a feeble attempt at raiding the UNSC Navy and Marine Corps combined and would've hoped for a positive outcome on their end. Their first mistake was the sheer thought of fucking with the boot-stomping, lead-slinging, rifle-ready, aim-steady, iron-jawed Devil Dogs. “First in, last out” used to be what the Marines were all about until the Covenant showed up. Since then, everyone in the UNSC were playing catch-up with the enemy.

The sniper had his SRS99 strapped onto his back with the barrel safely aiming downwards at a diagonal angle and his combat helmet hooked onto a MOLLE strap on his LBE. Both of Kim and Campbell’s helmets had a laser range finder device and binoculars all in one package which was handy since both sniper and spotter occasionally fired hot lead downrange; one of the many Hunter-Killer sniper teams. In case the sniper missed, the spotter’s would provide a 50 percent chance of hitting the sniper's mark which made it efficient and deadly. Although, Kim rarely missed with perfect weather, climate, and within his effective range. Kim didn't end up in Force Recon just because he could hit a target from beyond a kilometer.

Gunnery Sergeant Kim took a look around at the men and women around him. The Battalion Landing Team were in the same location as the Force Reconnaissance Company, but it was easy to identify who were Recon because of the camouflage paint on their faces, suppressors on their rifles, more modifications to their loadouts, and better camouflage patterns on their BDUs. On top of that, Recon stuck with Recon and never mixed with the BLT unless it was meal time, in the mess halls, in the gym, or joining with other teams and squads to reinforce them when numbers were dwindling. After roughly seven centuries of existence, the Marine Corps are still segregated by their specialized nature. The same could be said for ODSTs, the aviators, tank crew, and other MOS that did not fit the infantry. The only thing that they thought they had in common were dress blues and the Rifleman Qualifications.

The 49th Recon Platoon and Kim were on the left side of the room and were casually grouped up like cool kids during recess. Faces were either covered in camouflage paint or balaclavas, but Kim could tell who was who based on their kit, how they colored their faces, who were known to wear balaclavas, or who were talking to who. Of course, those with full ghillies and sniper rifles were the sniper and spotters, those with only half ghillies were JTAC, FAC, Scouts, or other MOS that required concealment, those with only camo netting on their helmets and BR55s or M392s were the designated marksman, and those with suppressors on their MA5s, BR55s, M7Cs, and other close-to-mid ranged weapons worked the frontlines.

Kim was staring at the Battalion Landing Team before he saw aged men and women in combat gear enter the rally compartment. It didn't take a whole lot of guessing and visual giveaways to assume that they were officers and senior NCOs. “Officers on deck!” someone yelled out from the other side of the door way. The Recon Marines didn't need anymore than that to get into formation. With his weapon already strapped on his back, all Kim had to do was take a small step to his rear and rotate counterclockwise to face the front of the room. His spotter followed suite and got into position to his left and both of them were standing in attention.

The sound of boots hitting the metal deck behind the sniper and then the officers and NCOs moving into view was enough to get everyone straightened out and alert. He could feel their eyes scanning over the room to make sure uniforms were in tip-top shape and their weapons were blue or they would dish out an ass chewing for having a loaded weapon in a non-combat zone.

The Gunny could overhear Echo Company’s CO provide everyone a speech mixed with a briefing and it was short and sweet. He enjoyed listening to the Captain speak. His rough, Drill Instructor-like voice booming with coarseness that reminded Kim of his days in boot. Like most DIs, their voices were gone like a sore throat and the lack of water. In contrast, Captain Sorelson still had a portion of his voice intact and it was loud and clear; the perfect voice for military radio or a talk show.

“Oo-rah!” the Marines shouted when the Captain concluded his speech. Kim chose to remain silent during this occasion because of his quiet nature, but he could have sworn he heard Campbell shout the war cry.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet/15th Battle Group: ‘Marine Country’ & Echo Company Rally Compartment: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

“If word hasn’t spread by now, let it be known we’ve intercepted a transmission…a request for reinforcements from one of the UNSC's priority mining colonies and agricultural centers. The codes Bloody Arrow and Bandersnatch were reported with local militia being overrun, and were being routed. The local police force, and other first responders are doing what they can to insure the population is evacuated with minimal loss of life or at least that is what they intend. Be prepared for radiological threats. According to the reports, the Covenant has started bombarding the planet from orbit. If you see a plume coming from orbit, get the hell out of there. I cannot emphasize that more. We are hours from the planet, due more in part to a Covenant welcoming party attempting to keep the way closed to us. We’ll board the Pelicans, and we’ll ride them to the planet and the surface,”

“We will be entering a Hot LZ, under threat of if not directly under heavy fire. The first objective is to clear a perimeter around the LZ, and to re-secure one of the local militia bases for our use. From there, we will maintain a supply line to the Fleet for as long as possible. Our priorities are to engage the Covenant, to force them back and to keep them back while giving the civilians much needed time to evacuate. It must be assumed we will have limited aid from the local militia, and other first responders. We will largely be on our own once we hit the surface. As for the flight, if you want to catch up on some rest or a power nap before we arrive in orbit or commence our drop to the surface feel free to do so,” the aging Captain of Echo Company explained, giving the marines of his Company as many details about the mission as he‘d been able to ascertain. There had been a few more details Mark had seen to, mostly about logistics, to the initial arrangement of the Landing Zones to alternate sites if the initial ones were overrun.

[Faclan]

Tags; SuperCommando SPARTAN-A120 , Spartan 999

(Have been given the go ahead to play as Mike during this to allow the ONI operations to be conducted in a proper and efficient manor! Hopefully I can do Mama Sheep proud. Let me know SuperCommando if you guys have already landed and I'll try to edit as quick as possible.)

LT. CMDR Moretti, Michelangelo N. - ONI Tactical Field Officer
Aboard Prowler Silent Sanguine
Glorious leadership.

Now that the field team had been deployed in the mini Prowler the bride was much more quiet. Nice and quiet, easy to hear reports from the various stations and also from his team. Mikes team. The mission would be a success and Mike would reap the rewards from Big Maggie upstairs. He took a moment to close his eyes and breath in the quiet and efficent atmosphere...till it was shattered.

"Mike," Hyde squeaked out. "Should I inform the team of the amount of holding cells we have? They may want to know they ca."

"Hyde! Its COMMANDER Moretti," The Italian muttered through clenched teeth before rounding on the scientist. "And you won't be telling them anything anymore. You have neither the clearance or experience to be giving them any information that could help them that they don't already know. There will be no alien prisoners besides the Heretic leader. I want them to kill all else they find so you wont be tempted to go and try to learn their names or other useless information. In fact," Mike made a grandiose gesture toward the bridge door. "Your job is done now, so get off MY bridge and make yourself scarce so you don't bother the grown ups."

Hyde looked like he was going to make a reply to that before he glanced around the bridge at the other ONI officers not even sparing him a glance and just nodded with a good volume 'Yes Sir' and skittered out of the bridge.

Now with the distractions good Mike took another moment to bask and breath in his Operational order before opening a line to the team in the mini Prowler.

"You should be getting basic maps downloaded to your HUDs now. All three main forces are currently just building, looting, and preparing at present. You'll have time to land and secure the ship before moving on the Herectic camp before the Covenant come to burn it to the ground. Ensure the vessel is well hidden as it will not be your only way off the planet but definitely your main one. Report back when you land."

Shutting off the call Mike sat back down in the command chair and waited, looking at a few readouts but mainly out the window at the planet they were situated above. Those farms soon to be killing fields.

------

Hyde meanwhile in short order may his way to one of the break rooms, only slightly larger than his tiny cabin, just to have a better chair to sit in. He could see a bit of the planet from where he was but was instead busying himself with plugging in his tac-pad and other communication devices to wall and seat sockets so they wouldn't run out of power. Once he was connected and in he sent a quick message to Chen, he wasn't going to be so easily kicked out of this!

That is until Mike found out he was doing this.

"Chen, kicked off bridge but still want to help, will be here if need information - we have seven dedicated holding cells and I wager multiple can fit in each as long as not furball. Good luck all of you."

------------

Short update on other character;
- Cad: Cad is moving with some of the Sangheili units toward the city, acting as a radio operator due to his injuries slowing him down a bit. But he is armed with a simple Carbine to provide some supportive fire. He tried to wish Garatus good luck but was moved off with the attacking force before able to give him the well wishes. May try later.
- Pha-004: Moved off with the Unggoy to help carry tools and other assistance for them to dig the defensive trenches.
- Eugine: Waiting in the camp by the Chief tent, noting down this pretty land some more and just waiting around
- Kael Gel: Still with Roh beside the Chief tent, likely to move off with Roh soon or eventually to assault the herectic camp to bring back Revulls' head.

[BetaWülf]

Jiralhanae War Chieftain Garatus the Deathless
Covenant Base of Operations
Send Off

Garatus felt his speech, while a bit theatrical, was still good enough to motivate his soldiers. He'd given speeches in the heat of battle, delivering his lines between swings of his hammer, and given them calmly at formal affairs; but he never quite felt used to it. He was much more of a hands on leader, so giving hopefully rousing speeches just to end up pacing around an encampment was not particularly enjoyable for him.

Garatus hefted his hammer over onto his shoulder from it's resting place beside his tent-side throne, letting it settle into his shoulder for a moment. Garatus walked out of the tent with a confident stride, his guards forming into a 'V' behind him with he himself being the tip of the 'V'. He looked about the encampment, slowly clearing out as the soldiers went out to war.

As the Creches, Lances, and Files marched off, it was primarily Unggoy and the occasional Kig-Yar running about doing menial tasks, with a small handful of Sangheili and Jiralhanae directing them in their labors. Garatus nodded to a patrolling Lance as they passed in front of him, the last Unggoy of the group picking up pace as it spotted the War Chieftain in it's dutiful scuttling.

Garatus paced about the camp, obviously agitated by the current inactivity of his command. He would certainly have to find a task for himself to undertake, but it would most definitely have to be important to warrant his absence from the camp. As he stopped to kick at a peculiar rock, he soon looked up at the approach of a Major.

He knew first by scent that the Major was his own son, Fenarious, but simply by outward appearance it took examining the exposed details to identify him. Garatus nodded to his son as he approached, the young Major following his father as the War Chieftain continued to pace.

"You seem troubled, War Chieftain" Fenarious said, his voice surprisingly low for a Jiralhanae.

"Is it that obvious?" Garatus asked, knowing the answer to the question before he even asked it.

"If it was any more obvious, it would register on our sensors" Fenarious said sarcastically.

Garatus chuckled "You always were one to jest my son, though Rotonus is still funnier" Garatus said with a sly grin, eyeing his son.

They both laughed, Garatus lightly smacking Fenarious in the bicep as the younger Jiralhanae grinned. Garatus let out a sigh to accompany the last of his laughter, looking over the encampment with pride.

"I never thought I would live to see the day where our people weren't treated like war beasts" Garatus said, his face turning serious once more "When my father was still alive, they kept the Jiralhanae in the cargo holds where they'd keep the animals; they had to have a 'handler' to be deployed" Garatus said with a slight disgust in his voice.

"I know father" Fenarious said, looking down at his own feet with a sudden sadness that accompanied the thoughts of the old days, "those were pitiful days for the Covenant"

"Indeed" Garatus said in agreement "But here we stand, respected soldiers with full rights" Garatus added "A people to be feared with awe, for our bottomless rage fuels are advancement" Garatus concluded, laying a hand on his son's shoulder for a brief moment.

Garatus turned away, moving off towards the edge of the encampment past the many temporary shelters scattered across the ground. Fenarious watched as his father walked away, having a hard time fathoming that the very War Chieftain before him was the same man that raised him with such care.

T'vaoan Murmillo Roh Gel
Covenant Base of Operations
Trying

Roh listened as Kael offered alternatives, but Roh just smiled softly and nodded. He knew she wanted what was best for him, but he did not think she was having anything less than great difficulty accepting what had happened to him. And he couldn't blame her, it was something that made everyone uneasy and for good reason. It wasn't easy seeing someone who seemed to so strong before turned into something broken and half feral; be it as a friend or family member, or someone who had expected him to be their future leader.

"I will always remember your words mother" he said softly "but these... these are the kind of wounds that wont heal; the kind you must learn to endure if you're to survive" he said somewhat regretfully, averting eye contact for a brief moment before trying to return to a more relaxed and stern state of being.

"I cannot in good conscience avoid a duty, whatever you see fit to assign me, I shall carry out with compunction and fervor" he said, bowing his head respectfully to Kael.

"I can do this" he said so softly it was almost inaudible, keeping his turbulent just below the surface. He straightened his stance, raising his head back up as proudly as he could. He was important, Aecor dammit! He could not fail, he didn't have a choice. In his mind there was only one option; succeed. Dying in the attempt wasn't good enough.

[Faclan]

Kael Gel - T'vaoan Sect Leader
Covenant staging area
Disgusting.

Kael just grimaced and nodded at Roh pointed out that the wounds wouldn't heal. She didn't want to believe it but Roh was right...she would have to accept that Roh would never heal. It would sure look impressive to other Kig-Yar when he became leader, he would look like what they imagined a Gel to be...Kael just didn't want her little chick to be like that.

Clearing her throat to get more in the moment she listened carefully. Nodding when he said he could do it, prompting Kael to pat his armored shoulder with a smile. "You can, I know you can. And since I know you will succedd our main objective here is still 'Revulls' head. And you have the tools and the training needed to get us his defenses and location." She still didn't seem fully into the plan but was confident that Roh could do it.

"Join up with Vesa and the joint T'vaoan and Jiralhanae hunting party, both of you together shall lead it. As I said just find a jumping looking Kig-Yar or Unggoy, neither will probably need much more than one of you flashing a blade in their face to spill the beans - only the," a spit. "Disgusting Humans and fools resort to torture..." She seemed to gloss over the fact that the Jiralhanae seemed to love it, ah well.


Eugenius - Jiralhanae Advisor and Mystic
Covenant Staging area
Advice all 'round.

Finishing up his recording for the current state of the fields he could survey Eugine signed off the entry with the time. The time currently displayed on his Skewer pistol handle with a new insert he got recently. Better than having to fish around for his communicator as he wasn't going to be like those kids who had it out all the time. With that written down the Elder slipped the notebook and writing utensil back into his satchel and then turned to enter the camp once again.

He soon found Fenarious and Garatus walking together, it made him smile as he followed semi close to them to hear their conversation. Good father and son bonding there as soon, hopefully not too soon, the command of this large force would be in Fenarious' hands. Capable hands no doubt as Garatus was doing well to train him but his Nephew still had many years of command and leadership ahead of him. Once the two parted Eugine moved to be beside the younger.

"Both of us are very proud of your continued work and growth Fenarious - keep it up and you'll make a grand leader in time." But then he got a bit more serious. "And while our new position in the Covenant is well deserved and fantastic, don't allow yourself to become complacent. It can be snatched away from us incredibly quick if the Sangheili find a good enough reason too." A pause as Eugine grimaced. "And they seemed to be getting quiet agitated at our continued success. I feel a storm coming, do your best to prepare for it so you are not consumed in the fires." A blink and then he brightened up again, patting the youths shoulder. "But you have a strong pack by your side, it would take much more than that to undo us - this day will just be a stepping stone that we then add to our indomitable foundation." With a last pat and a tap from his staff Eugine walked off toward the Chief, hopefully leaving Fenarious not in a terrible mood.

(Such a barrel of sunshine >.>)

Eventually catching Garatus Eugine stood beside him as he surveyed the goings on of the camp. Letting the Chief see that he was there and then waited a little longer before commenting on the situation so far. "It is good you have sent some of our forces to cause noise at the Human city - we need to hide the fact that the Herectic's head is our main purpose for being here. If they find out they could try to lay false trails to distract the war machine. Well done Nephew."

[Trooper]

Naat Gel, Heretic Raider
Unknown human planet, Midday
Heretic base
"Guard duty"

Naat glared at Gav and Thel, the other two splitfaces stood behind him. Since day break they had been bickering. Sitting at Naat's feat was the cause of the battle. A human weapon Gav had found on their previous expedition into the human city. Thel and Gav were arguing who the weapon belonged too, and naturally it was given to Naat as the splitfaced goons wouldn't challenge her, less they receive her wrath.

"You are my minion, therefore what is yours is mine." Thel argued, his point unwavering.

"What use do you have for this weapon? Your brutish hands can't even fit in it, splitface." The Ibie'Shan hissed, his words as sharp as his teeth.

"Because it is a show of power!" Said a grunt, followed by a nod from the other.

"It would seem they're at it again?" Badad said as he staggered forward to stand next to his T'vaoan friend.

"Yes, keep an eye on them I wish to speak with Ravager Reesk. His opinion should end this grudge match." Naat stated.

"Actually Raider Gel, that is why I came to see you. Our mighty Ravager has asked that all Kig-yar move to guard the base. You and Gav are to set up at the broken farm vehicle." Badad stated calmly.

"I see, I'll move out you count how long it takes them to realize I'm gone." Naat said as she picked up the weapon. She hung it in the pouch over her chest then took off. She ran with ease, not hindered by heavy armor or natural weakness. The heaviest piece in her arsenal being her heavy repeater that hung from its strap that sat on her shoulder.

The destination neared, as she began to see its shiny head erupt from the horizon. Truly she wondered why on the Kig-yar, were the only ones out. Then it dawned on her that she wasn't to fight, but run back to warn the Sangheili and Unggoy who had not followed Revuul into battle. Luckily though once Gav got here, he'd be the runner. Giving Naat the chance to tackle any enemies she might be able to pick off. This caused her to grin to herself, she would be free to kill. Fading from sight the tall foilage died near the mechanical beast, and didn't reappear until one got away from it. (Small area of 4 square yards) Naat leaped atop the machine and relaxed taking the human weapon from her pouch she glared at it. It was odd, like the skewer it was small, but it had a top to its barrel, which after testing appeared to move back and forth. She aimed down the sights and pulled the trigger. The weapon discharged with a loud boom. Naat spotted where the ammunition ended in a hole in the barren floor.

"I might keep it for myself, but how does it reload?" She spoke to herself as she began to experiment with her new toy.

[RiddL]

First Lieutenant Alexei -Titan- Krevchenkov
153rd ODST
UNSCS Iowa

Titan moved with purpose towards where the Marines were receiving instruction, noticing some of the new blood they had gripping their weapons with white knuckles that comes with being anxious before a battle.

His eyes looked over the heads to see the sight of Colonel Killinger loading his rifle and walked over, his helmet under his left at as he stopped at attention and gave a quick salute, not just because of his superior rank but also out of respect for the equally tall man.

"Colonel, I was wondering if we might take a moment to go over the battle plan, for what good it'll do us." He began as he relaxed and rolled the nervous tension out of hos shoulders.

"I would personally like to have the myself and the ODSTs drop down first and secure an FOB so that we have a staging area to advance from and fall back to as the battle progresses, as well as an infirmary for casualties we sustain. I'd like your opinion on this and also a point for this to happen, sir." He finished calmly as he laid out what he wanted to do in the coming battle.

He also knew that by the end of this conversation, he would have definite orders for the rest of the 153rd.

[MrKill]

Col. Killinger, J.
120th MEU
UNSCS Iowa

John had just finished loading his last magazine when another officer - an ODST identified as 1Lt. Krevhenkov, A. - approached and asked a question. The junior officer was curious about the operation order and their objectives, passionately called the 'battle plan' for simplicity. The young officer wanted his ODSTs to drop down first and secure an operating base for the rest of the Marines. However, John felt like it fell into the 'good in theory, different in practice' category. The ODSTs could deploy first but with the Covenant already having a major stronghold on the planet the veteran officer knew the ODSTs - should they get attacked while regrouping - would be cut down without the support of the GCE.

John stretched his jaw slightly. "It takes more than just landing to make an FOB, son." John started, trying to sound reasonable. "But you'd need to dig, build, construct and secure a perimeter all at the same time. That's why a MEU has multiple assets and elements. You might be able to deploy first, but the only thing you would be responsible for would be securing the area so the 53rd CE's can actually make the FOB. I appreciate your ambition, but being ambitious to join a battle can be dangerous." John said. He leaned forward and clasped his hand on the young officers shoulder.

"But what I can do is deploy you ground side while we are leaving on Albatrosses. By the time we get down to the LZ, your platoon and the rest of the 153rd should have the area secure. From there the GCE protects the 53rd CE until the FOB is up and running. You'll be needed for the defence of the FOB, the Covenant won't miss thousands of Marines landing on a planet." John added, letting go of the ODSTs shoulder.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant. A ship wide notice will inform you when it is time to launch. Good hunting." John said before departing the Lieutenant.

He had more things to do, more logistics to check, and more officers to talk to.

---

With permission from BetaWolf, you may deploy your Marines/ODSTs after I post with my admiral.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet/15th Battlegroup: ‘Marine Country’ & Echo Company Rally Compartment: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

“Marines, Mission is a go, repeat, mission is a go. Pilot: contact LSO for departure instructions, bridge out,” a voice from the bridge blared over the PA speakers littered throughout the compartment.

“Saddle up, Marines. Departure imminent. Board your assigned pelicans. Squads, through Platoons,” Mark said, his voice booming even in those controlled tones of his realizing that during the entire briefing and rallying of the marines the Iowa had managed to sneak into the orbit of Esperanza II. The aging marine took his chance to show the new replacements, the rookies in his Company and those surrounding Companies that the officers of the 120th MEU led by example, and with it he boarded his assigned Pelican with a few members of his staff following while the others split up among the other Pelicans having taken a lesson from the disastrous landing at Refuge.

Passing the seats lining the bulkheads of the blood tray, Mark made his way to the cockpit to see how that bird’s flight crew had been handling things. He knew the limits of his office, in that the pilot held the authority aboard the Pelican either in the air or on the ground.

“Echo Actual to all Echo Call-Signs, stow your gear and if you can’t stow it in the nets follow the instructions of the crew-chief of your Pelican,” Spade said, having switched his helmet-mic and officer’s communications suite over to the Company-wide encrypted frequency. “Stow that yammering. We’re going in quiet. The ball is in the pilot’s court until we hit dirt. I repeat, the ball is in the pilot’s court,”

Keeping on his feet until the last of the marines boarded the Pelican, the aging Captain sat back in his crash-seat and secured the safety-straps. His own pack, with the camel-bladder to extra magazines and other such essential supplies lay strapped behind him, and after so many years the burden of so much gear that had seemed so insurmountable when he’d been a Private had become more than second nature. Watching the crew-chief cross back along the blood-tray tugging on the nets holding the cargo back to inspecting the safety-straps of each marine aboard, Mark shared a nod with the crew-chief before the flight-staff member gave a signal to the pilot and co-pilot everything had been secured before the aft-ramp closed creating an air-tight seal with craft’s main-body.

[RiddL]

First Lieutenant Alexei -Titan- Krevchenkov
153rd ODST
UNSCS Iowa

Feet First.

Titan saluted again and sharply turned to return to the rest of the 153rd when he heard the call for deployment. He went from a walk to a jog as he returned to his men, placing his helmet on his head and watching his HUD come up before his eyes.

He stopped before the 153rd and yelled, "153rd form up!" As the men moved quick to form up he gathered his thoughts.

"Alright boys and girls, we're going to drop in first and secure an area for the 53rd to set up a FOB. We will be defending the FOB until further notice and showing the fart breathers and split lips what's for until we receive further orders." He called said clearly, transmitting to all the ODSTs.

"Get your gear prepped and your head clear because when we drop we will be under fire pretty much from the get go. All right, you have your orders, group up when we land and when we get back, drinks are on me." He finished with a humorous tone.

"How do we get to hell boys and girls?" He yelled, to calm some of the nerves everyone must be feeling by now.

"FEET FIRST!" Came the thunderous reply as they started moving to the drop pods.

With the small knot of tension in his stomach he made his way to his drop pod, making sure everything was secure before getting in himself and closing the doors and calling through to command.

"This is Angel 2 Actual, ready for drop, over." He called to Command, ready for the long drop and flying plasma that was ready to greet him.

[MrKill]

Col. Killinger, J.
120th MEU
UNSCS Iowa

John had already been seated when the announcement came over the speakers. He had boarded an Albatross ten minutes prior to clear his head and think the operation order over again. Maybe, just maybe, there was a different option. He knew that the UNSC weren't close to contesting orbit quite yet so the Marines had to force an engagement with the Covenant. If it was too quiet for too long they could be glassed and not be able to fight it. Unfortunately the quiet didn't last as long as the Colonel would have liked; two Warthogs and a squad of Marines boarded the albatross and took their seats.

The aged officer looked over towards the deck hands strapping the LRV's down. Both of them were the 12.7x99mm variants; effective in the anti-aircraft and anti-personnel roles. Quite frankly, however, the Warthogs armed with the M41 LAAGs weren't his first choice. He'd take a 'Gauss 'Hog' over the normal LAAG version every day of the week. The Gauss Cannon was effective in every role it needed to achieve. Anti-personnel? No problem. Anti-armour? No problem. Anti-aircraft? No problem! The cannon literally tore anything it touched apart, even those pesky Elites with shields. After all, it was a miniature MAC gun strapped to a ground based vehicle that fired a 25mm projectile at mach 40. Everything it touched, everything, either turned into a coloured mist or took serious damage.

"Catching a ride with us, eh sir?" A Sergeant asked as his squad started to take their seats.

"For now, Sergeant." John replied.

The NCO took his seat and looked at the ramp. Another squad had entered. The Albatross could support up to fifty Marines without additional cargo, but people were able to cramp and sit on each others laps so to speak. The two Warthogs took up considerable space, but three Marines usually hopped in for the ride down. That way, the vehicles would be manned and combat operational the moment the Albatross touched down. It was common practice for a Pelican to transport Marines inside the vehicle as well, but it wasn't recommended.

It was impressive that four of these huge heavy-lift transports could deploy an entire company of combat ready Marines. It was unfortunate, however, that they were only six registered in the Iowa's inventory. Four of them were assigned to cargo, which meant that only two Albatrosses were supporting troops. The rest had the cargo required to maintain an operational logistic chain. Troops needed munitions, consumables and other items that accompanied them.

Since this was a mass deployment nearly all - if not all of the pelicans - were equipped with the consequentially named deployment pod. The 'troop deployment pod' could carry thirty individuals. If that were the case, the thirty six pelicans in the hanger bay right now were capable of transporting the entire GCE in a single deployment. John liked the odds that his GCE would be ground side in a moment.

Seven of the twenty fighters assigned to the Iowa were going to escort them down. John didn't know what hit him, or why he changed his mind, but he knew he had to force an engagement until the UNSC fleet did engage. He had to land in a planet were small skirmishes were underway. He produced his tactical pad from his rucksack and quickly scanned for new landing zones. He found one. Reports indicated a small element, maybe a platoon in strength, had been hitting civilians still trying to evacuate the small town closer to the mountains.

John closed his eyes briefly. He hoped that there was still a town left to fight for. If not, they'd have to redeploy while they still had airspeed to do so during reentry.

It was the pilots job to get them to a destination but hey needed to know that destination before they left the hanger. Within a moment John had sent a message to the transport squadrons commanding officer and received a reply in acknowledgement. The Colonel returned his pad and donned his helmet so he could speak to his Expeditionary Unit.

"Guardian Actual to all call signs this net, be advised, LZ one has been scratched - new LZ is LZ Lake Town, break... Initial reports indicate that local law enforcement is falling to a Covenant unit roughly a platoon in strength, break. Orders are to deploy and engage the enemy to reclaim the town, Guardian Actual out." John said, taking a few breaths in between the 'breaks' to provide a clear and constant tone in his alert message.

Soon the Marines would be deploying. Another ten minutes John assumed - another ten minutes before the only thing between him and space was titanium armour.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet: ‘Marine Country’ & Echo Company Rally Compartment: Status: Deploying: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

“Guardian Actual to all call signs this net, be advised, LZ one has been scratched -- new LZ is LZ Lake Town, break… Initial reports indicate that local law enforcement is falling to a Covenant unit roughly a platoon in strength, break. Orders are to deploy and engage the enemy to reclaim the town, Guardian Actual out,” filtered John‘s voice over the Unit-Wide encrypted frequency.

The name had caught the aging Captain‘s attention, but Mark kept that revelation…that memory hidden from the marines strapped into crash-seats around him in the Pelican‘s blood tray. As with the myriad of towns and other locations littered throughout his past, the town of Lake Town had been burned into his memory down to the exact location of each rest area and street sign. The Mission eighteen years ago had been burned into his memory not because of the people he’d had to neutralize, but for those he’d saved. He knew John or at least hoped John hadn’t been aware of that piece of information, as Mark hadn’t wanted to compromise the current Mission or the lives entailed. His Team hadn’t ventured into that particular town exactly, but as a Staff Sergeant at the time he’d recalled having seen a few interstate signs listing it although his Team’s objective on that mission had been a warehouse closer to the mountains. He’d keep his silence in the matter, but there had been a part of him that had wondered how the lives of those they’d saved had formed afterwards and in particular a young woman that hadn’t exactly wanted to let go.

“The moment we hit dirt-side, get out of those crash seats and form a perimeter. Take out any squid-lip, vulture, methane-factory, or bad gorilla in a suit. Make each shot count, but watch yourselves. Get the civilians to safety, and if you can assist any local surviving law enforcement officers or militia,” Mark said, switching open the Company-wide encrypted frequency. “All Echo Call-Signs, we will be deploying rapidly and under fire. Say again, under fire. All Fireteams, Squads and Platoons check-in,”

(OOC: I do apologize for the use of "Repeat". I went back and changed it. By the way, after it had been brought to my attention anyone that has a character in Echo Company please change the call-sign from "Tornado" to "Echo". Thank you)

[Astro]

████ Hours, ████████ ██, 2551 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Iowa, Panis Eterni System

2ndLt G. Knudsen / Sgt J. McPherson
2nd Battalion, 15th Marines
Tornado 2

A pair of Marines from 2-1 chuckled at the Company-wide transmission, Knudsen catching one of them saying something involving "fucking repeat". They were rolling eyes at the Company Commander's use of the radio pro-word that they had been taught to avoid. 'Repeat' was for repeating calls for fire and, within the Marine Corps, it was replaced centuries ago by their 'say again'. Knudsen looked to Sergeant McPherson with the intent of getting him to deal with the two Marines, only to see the Scotsman staring them into silence. The Second Lieutenant smiled as he walked down the blood tray, tail to nose. McPherson turned from his intimidation to a straight face.

"All in, El Tee," he nodded, met by a nod of Knudsen's own.

"Two-Two-Alpha, Four-One-Two. We good?" the Lieutenant asked, trying to get a headcount of the smaller units.

"Alpha's in, sir."

"Four-One-Two's all in."

"All in then," Knudsen relayed to the Crew Chief. The Staff Sergeant acknowledged him with a nod and walked to the cockpit. Knudsen took to standing, grabbing an overhead handle with his free hand. His other, wrapped around the grip of his MA5, went over his shoulder and placed the rifle on his back. The magnetic strips on the back of his chestplate held it firm and he let go. The then free hand tapped the uplink on the side of his helmet.

"Gunny, how we looking?"

"Both squads plus us set if you've got Second's Alpha," came the almost disturbingly-calm voice of Gunnery Sergeant Frey, Tornado 2's Platoon Sergeant.

"That we do. Get Kitler to send it up."

A couple of seconds passed before 2ndLt Knudsen heard a squelch and his RTO's voice.

"Two-Romeo to Tornado-Six. Two is set and ready, how copy?"

---

tento125 I've put one of your Machine Gun Squads with me (4-1-2 = six men = two MG Teams) and my platoon. The Marines use Weapons Platoons to augment their Rifle Platoons with heavy weapons. If this isn't okay with you I'm more than happy to edit.

[Wax™]

Captain Jason Bowers
120th MEU // 12th Reconnaissance Company; Attachment // Call Sign: Viper Actual
One of many Hangar Bay's aboard the UNSCS Iowa
Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551


Captain Jason Bowers paced up and down the length of his company, roughly one hundred and sixty four men organised into a four platoons, excluding himself and his company First Sergeant Rachel Pearson, who was walking beside him. Jason stepped fifteen or so paces away from his company and positioned himself roughly in the middle and stood at ease like the men and women before him were doing before remaining silent. Jason and his men were currently in one of the hanger bays of the UNSCS Iowa waiting to be deployed. Other than them, the ships crew and all the pilots there wasn't many others around. The reason for that being, fifteen minutes prior to forming up Jason had felt the UNSCS Iowa accelerate, presumably toward the planet and being a company commander now, Jason wanted his ENTIRE company ready to launch at a moments notice.

"You may be wondering why we're all standing here doing nothing opposed to enjoying the final minutes before launch to ourselves. Well let me tell you something Fox company, being prepared and organised can be the difference between a successful combat drop and failure of one. There have been far too many times during my service as a squad leader where I have hit the dirt only to find out that one or two of my men were still stuck in orbit, waiting for the Pelicans to return to take them down to the surface. Now as a company commander I will not tolerate that kind of idiocy. With all of us here and prepared we are capable of launching from this hanger within a minute at best of orders being relayed to us... Where as the other companies of the regiment will have to wait for their platoons to be in order before they can leave the ship... And my company, 12th Recon, will not operate like that! Am I clear!"

"Sir yes Sir! First in! Last out! Ooooooo-rah!"

Jason smiled to himself, much like a proud parent would do watching their child kick ass in some sort of little league sport. He was just about to open his mouth to yell more at his company when a voice blared over the ships PA system: "Marines: Mission is a go, repeat, mission is a go. Pilots: contact LSO for departure instructions, bridge out."
There was a slightly delay between the end of the PA announcement and Jason relaying orders, hoping his company would fallout by themselves. But being that this was their first combat deployment together they still had things to learn.

"You heard the lady! Put those asses into gear! Let's go, go, go, go, gooooo!" Shortly after that bark, the hanger bay became a lot more lively, hundreds upon hundreds of marines flooded the hanger like a sea of green from the entrance. Forming themselves into platoon and company sized formations before falling out to their pelicans or albatross'. By the time most of them finished forming up, all of Jason's men had boarded their designated pelicans at the very back of the hanger near the actual bay door. Jason had mounted the very first Pelican with Second Platoon and his First Lieutenant Clair Hunt. Sitting across from one another they shared an 'intimate' kind of stare before the crew chief poked his head out of the cockpit to address Jason.

"All buckled up Captain?"

"We are settled in." Jason said, shortly after the man nodded and closed the rear door to the blood-tray, the engines to the pelican than begun to fire up. Shortly after this a message blared through the regimental comm's it was the Colonel. Jason hadn't actually seen or talked to the man since being re-assigned to his Regiment as a company commander. The pair knew each other outside of the uniform but it had been some time since they interacted last.


"Guardian Actual to all call signs this net, be advised, LZ one has been scratched - new LZ is LZ Lake Town, break... Initial reports indicate that local law enforcement is falling to a Covenant unit roughly a platoon in strength, break. Orders are to deploy and engage the enemy to reclaim the town, Guardian Actual out."
The Colonel said. Lake Town was actually one of the few towns Jason studied in detail so theoretically he'd know his way around. Shortly after the message, Jason opened up the company comm's.

"Viper Actual to all call-signs, check-in, over?"

"Viper One Actual, we have a green light." Second Lieutenant Jake Winters sounded off first.

"Viper Two Actual, all buckled in here Sir." First Lieutenant Clair Hunt said despite sitting right across from Jason.

"Viper Three Actual, all set Captain." Second Lieutenant Richard Speirs Said.

"Viper Four Actual, we a ready to mingle with the Covies Sir." Second Lieutenant David Cooper finished off.

"Affirmative, stand-by for further orders, out." Jason ended his transmission before opening one up with the Captains of the Pelicans holding his Company. "Take us away gentlemen." He said before closing the channel and opening up a second one, this time directly to the Regimental Commander himself, Colonel Killinger. 

"Viper Actual to Guardian Actual, solid copy on your last transmission. 12th Recon is locked in and underway. I have studied the maps to Lake Town, is there anywhere in particular you'd like to set up an FOB, my men can be boots on the location and secure it for the rest of the MEU Sir, unless there is somewhere else you want 12th Recon, over."

Shortly after he ended the transmission. By now Jason and his company were now in the vast nothingness of space, it was only a few extra moments before he felt the pressure of the atmosphere pressing against the nose of the Pelican.

[Huka]

Sect General Cav Vo’ha ‘Olamutee
Marching to Objective -- Leaving Northern Settlement in Ruins

The human screamed a horrid sound from its wide maw, still so odd with its flat snout after all these rotation. Cav almost didn’t enjoy looking at them when they did that. They looked like odd soft-skinned (and sometimes hairy) worms in the front angles. Nishum, truly. With a twist of his burning sword, the General sliced it in two from its impaled stomach to scalp and stepped over the skewered body without a second glance. The burning heat of the settlement glancing the back of his suit-regulated neck while his marching extension stepped from the flames like a holy visage for a wall’s imprint.

The heretical aliens were eradicated here, their flesh roasted into the air and caused some of his Jiralhanae to grumble in hungry desire. However, to his sect, it was the discipline of temptation that they fought against. Weakness was not welcome in his command. Stomped out as easy as one of his Wraiths rolling on a crumbling hut.

Orders were given and by the Will of the Covenant, by the Pride of the Sangheili, they will be carried out with the righteous fury of a Hundred Suns. The General had faith in his immediate second-in-command and one of the War Chief’s commanders to lead the extermination of the Human settlements as well as the Heretics, but he was intent of seeing the main objective tended to. Personally.

Banshee forward choirs soared over his head, breaking into two-paired hunting packs to cover more ground and survey the area ahead while the assault half of his sect moved along - by Phantom gunships in advance and foot with a rank of Wraith tanks.

“Banshees, move for our objective. Report details.” Cav commanded from the front of his troops, instinctively checking his plasma rifle - by this time of his life, it was a easy replacement of a pistol when all else failed… Naturally it was full-charged since leaving the camp. His eyes drifted to the air, the humans are soon to arrive and soon the whole world, like dozens before, will becoming their magnificent battlefield till the last ship is a burning husk falling from the stars’ grasp.

Creche Commander Orna Il ‘Taghree
Human Settlement closest to Covenant Landing Position

Trailing behind the advanced Unggoy Levies and Kig-yar scouts scouring through the human settlement, Orna looked at the familiar structures of the enemy’s compact design. The rushed abandonment of vehicles and belongings. His shoulders were lax yet eyes scanned for any sign of a possible ambush. The drilled training back at the ward-citadel already had lances separating to check houses, the ravenous Kig-yar chunking things of potential value for their lowly trades and a few Unggoy finding objects of childish interest before their handler snarled for them to remember their tasks.

The Unggoy under his own command marched behind him Their beady eyes were wary, already have survived their trials of battle and had tastes to their enemies’ conniving ways that have taken many of their clannish kin. Taking comfort in only sucking on their precious methane through stable apparatuses that the Army provided. Squat and going on all fours, a sign of their confidence to their brothers-and-sisters of war. The mean sneers of his contracted Kig-yar mercenaries were loyal at least for now, their monoscope-equipped heads swirveling in alarm. Quills of an alert velvet and manes gloriously swaying from the more taller T’vaoan bristling to the smallest scent of the humans that once resided here.

If they failed, Orna knew the small war pack in his command would alarm them to anything.

Then a loud squeak halted the entire march for the selective creche. The major snarled out a barbaric jowling with a slight curl of his saliva-moistened lips under his gifted power armor’s helmet. However, the eyes were on the thing that Orna stepped on.

The Ultra’s hand was on his plasma rifle, even if his eyes were already on the object under his moving boot. His foot size huge in comparison, the sheer weight of his unprovoked size crushed the squeak to a fatal POP. His crested head tilted in curiosity before crouching low at it.

“What is it?” Orna’s Second questioned. Claws brushed at the thing; it was dirty from the step, but it was simple to know it was once white. Some form of white, almost a pond-flower’s white. Its fur was soft, shape was simplish with some kind of style made in inspiration of an alien animal. Swooping it in his hand, the object was as big as a Unggoy’s head. Small in his large hand, thumbs rubbing at its odd-shaped chest. The Ultra could something underneath it, rubbing and felt the exit of the strenuous puncture like a busted lung.

“One of the human younglings’ toys.” The Ultra finally answered, he recognized such things from previous conquests. Not of disgust, just a resigned sigh. Humans seemed to take physical things of softness and gentle natures for comfort. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have been in the Heretic Uprising. Marching through an evacuated heretical nest like this. A soldier picking up a youngling’s fallen training staff or arum, such a precious thing of comfort left behind while Death was coming over the hill. It was an...interesting relation.

“We must keep moving, Commander.” The Jiralhanae said with a rare patience. “...Yes.” Orna muttered, dropping the toy and continuing on.

[Guardian Cat of Yappa's]

Staff Sergeant Maximilian "Drake" Fields
120th MEU, ECo./2/15, 1PLT Sergeant 
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Echo Rally Compartment
Deploying to the surface of Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551
(Tags: Cabel SPARTAN-A120)


"Echo Actual to all Echo Call-Signs, grab your gear. Field deployment. Double-time it, Marines. I don‘t want to be the first one there. Get your butts in motion. Report to your platoon commanders when you report at the Rally Compartment" 

"Staff Sergeant Fields, this is Bravo Team. We’re Oscar Mike to Rally, over.”

The sound of metal slapping metal filled his eardrums after the communication line went silent, the last two years of combat with another unit flashing through his mind again. Memories of smells, sounds, and people flashed through his mind as he strapped his gear up. The armor plating that they wore to protect themselves from the plasma felt heavier than usual.  'Probably because it's a new set of gear' as he strapped on his left arm guard. He had however, managed to hold onto the right arm guard from his previous set of armor. Across the piece of armor were 18 tick marks. The younger marines looked at them with awe, thinking it was a kill count of some kind, and most of the older marines thought it was weird to have ticks on your armor and not your gun or helmet. What no one realized, was that it was an actually a body count of marines who died on the last operation he had been on.

For some bulls*** reason, Fields had been reassigned to the 19th MEU to take over the roll of some dumba** Lt's Platoon Sergeant because of his combat experience. What ended up happening was the idiot wouldn't listen to his advice, and ended up getting himself, and 17 men, most of with were from 3rd squad, killed. Fields had nearly died himself, when a plasma grenade landed on his gun, luckily he was able to throw the gun and dive around a corner and into a house that was still standing in that dam town, but the armor he was wearing was mostly wrecked from the heat that followed, and so Fields ordered the platoon to retreat and give up the town. He just sat and stared at the piece of armor well the other marines piled out of the locker room, course fields wasn't sure if that was a minute ago, 5 minutes ago, or even 10 minutes ago. 

Eventually though, he slid his helmet on, Grabbed his MA5C, and started marching to the rally compartment. The timer on his H.U.D. indicated he was late asf for the briefing, but he would just have his Lt. fill him in on the details.


"Marines, Mission is a go, repeat, mission is a go. Pilot: contact LSO for departure instructions, bridge out,” 

Fields heard this blare through the PA system as he entered the Rally compartment, he wasn't gonna try and mask the fact that he was late or the fact he missed the briefing, instead he double timed it over to the blood tray that the Captain was loading up in. Dropping into a seat near the cockpit, Fields stowed his ruck and buckled in, he didn't even need to listen as Sorelson explained to the younger guys in the pelican what to do.

"Sorry I'm late Captain, got tied up with something back at the armory." He typed out on the Tac Pad that was strapped to his left arm, and sent it over a secure line to the Captain. Last thing they needed was the marines thinking they could be late.

(OOC note: Sorry bout taking so long to post guys, will do my best to stay on top of the posting.)

(Status of other characters-)
(Captain Duncan is loading the Combat engineers onto pelicans, they'll be following Echo Company down.)
(Sherman is with his spotter, loading up with the other FR elements and deploying)
(Pyrex is getting to the surface however the Hawks get to the surface (Honestly this was the thing that kept fking me up when I tried to post)) 

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet/15th Battlegroup: ‘Marine Country’ & Echo Company Rally Compartment: Status: Deploying: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

“Sorry I‘m late Captain, got tied with something back at the armory,” the text sent from Drake over his TAC Pad read.

Mark kept quiet, knowing that the long-time Non-Com turned Platoon Sergeant of First Platoon and a good friend had wanted privacy in the matter. Staff Sergeant Maximilian Fields or Drake as he’d come to be known had been one of Mark’s most experienced marines and had been the one man that had saved his butt personally in that Water Treatment Plant on the Planet Protector years earlier, and the knowledge that Drake’s time in the 19th MEU had resulted in a furball operation had not been lost on the aging Captain. Being the Captain of Echo Company had granted Mark the security clearance to know about the assignments of his marines, and most importantly to know certain other grizzly details of those operations that otherwise would have been above his pay-grade. Having experienced the kind of trauma and despair, or what was commonly accepted as Survivor’s Guilt at one time or another, Mark had understood exactly what Drake had been going through. Whether that issue in the armory had been a marine missing a piece of their gear or that Drake had been attempting to deal with his inner demons hadn’t been Mark’s call to make, as a person’s inner demons would only be to put rest by him or her alone.

“Don’t worry about it, Drake. You’re here, and that’s all that matters. Our new LZ is Lake Town. Reports have confirmed first responders, in the form of local police are being over-run by a platoon-strength Covenant force. Our orders are to safe-guard the civilians, assist the survivors in fending off the Covenant and in keeping our own heads from being taken off. We have to retake that town. It’ll be a good staging point, and it has access to the nearby interstates,” Mark typed, sending his own text back to Drake’s own TAC Pad using encrypted software.

“For those of you freshly rotated from boot or if this is your first combat drop, if you think you’re going to blow chunks swallow it. I don’t want this bay filled with floating chunks of MREs or doughnuts or whatever it is you chose to have a second helping of in the mess this morning at breakfast,” Spade said, his words reaching down the length of default Blood-tray and the extended deployment pod holding the other marines. “You’ll thank me later when you remember to eat a light breakfast or lunch before a drop,”

“Synch up your visors or eye-pieces and your watches, if you have them,” Mark advised, synching up his own visor and com-systems before synching up the old analogue watch he‘d worn on his right wrist.

[BetaWülf]

Jiralhanae War Chieftain Garatus the Deathless
Covenant War Camp
Profound Times

Garatus continued on his way, his pace casual yet still bearing purpose. He stopped just past the edge of the war camp, standing beside a lone tree as the wind whipped through the grasses and crops that stretched out ahead of them. He stood silently, gazing out with orange eyes at beauty of the planet he was conquering. It was a ripe planet, the Humans hadn't truly stained it like other worlds, they could be expunged with relative ease while maintaining the agricultural integrity of the celestial sphere. Mentally, Garatus had gone from taking in the beauty of the place to imagining it as a bustling hub of the Covenant's War efforts; a Jiralhanae dominated affair, of course.

Garatus turned his head when he heard his Uncle's voice, he barked once and his body guards dispersed around the general area; giving Garatus and Eugenius relative privacy in which to speak. Garatus smiled lightly at the praise, he was never truly sure how to respond to such things as he was modest at heart.

"You speak too kindly Uncle, let us hope that when the battle is joined in earnest I can deliver results truly worthy of praise" he said softly, a very different tone than the normal deep resonate words that usually came from his mouth.

Garatus sighed as he looked down at his feet, raising his head back up to stare out at the fields once more "Was it ever like this for you? Your heart full of doubt and rage, and your head is screaming at you to run back; but your damned feet keep you going onward into..." he said, kicking up a small clout of dirt with his right foot when he spoke his feet and the part they play in his.

"...Into this" he said, gesturing half heartedly at the miles stretched out before them, pillars of smoke visible sporadically in the distance.


T'vaoan Murmillo Roh Gel
Covenant Base of Operations
Off On a Mission

Roh nodded in understanding, he was hesitant but pleased with the faith Kael was putting in him. He placed his right hand on the left breast of his combat harness and bowed the upper half of his torso. "As you command Champion Gel" Roh said with the candor and professionalism of a high born soldier. With that he turned and strode off, following the trail of Kig-Yar and Jiralhanae prints that would undoubtedly lead him to Vesa.

He took the time to contemplate his situation as he went off in search of the Commando, his helmet hiding his furrowed brow. He didn't know Vesa very well despite he himself being around Kael far more now than previously, but he hoped they would work well together. He felt that there seemed to be two groups within Kael's subordinates when it came to him; those that were respectful to him for being Kael's son, and those that loathed him for his former disrespect for Kael.

Regardless of which group Vesa fell into, or if she was in a league of her own, Roh would try to keep himself professional in his treatment of Vesa and the other members of the hunting party. He was passed by a Jiralhanae Major and his Minors, they seemed to be heading for the hunting party as well so Roh chose to fall in behind them and sprinted lightly to keep pace. After a minute or two they arrived where the other were gathering, Roh breaking off to head towards Vesa.

He halted in front of her, saluting in the Kig-Yar fashion. "Murmillo Gel reporting for the hunt as ordered by Champion Gel, Commando" Roh said respectfully as he stood at attention, awaiting further instructions.

Jiralhanae Major Fenarious II
Covenant War Camp
Joining the Hunt

Fenarious turned from watching his father walking away to were his great Uncle Eugenius stood, bringing a smile to his young face. He looked a bit more serious as he listened to the elder Shaman, trying to take as much from his wise words as possible. But alas, Fenarious was still quite young and his attention span showed it as he worked hard to keep his mind on track.

"Their agitation is most amusing though, I must confess" Fenarious said with a chuckle "But you are right, we must keep our wits about us if we are to continue our success in the face of adversity" he continued with a small increase of seriousness to his tone.

"When I lead the pack someday, I'm sure father will be leaving me a mighty warband" Fenarious said with pride, and while he certainly looked forward to leading in the future, he wasn't in a rush for the power just yet.

"I hope you and father's faith in me is well placed, for I go now to join the hunt with the Kig-yar and our packmates" Fenarious said with a large grin as he brandished his mace 'blood bringer' in both hands. He was excited to have the opportunity to purge Heretics, he was too young to join the pack when his father was fighting Heretics before; Fenarious would not miss out on the glory to be won this time around.

Fenarious sprinted off with his Jiralhanae Minors in tow, heading off towards the other Jiralhanae and their newfound Kig-yar hunting party. He was grinning ear to ear, excited for the prospect of finally winning honor and glory for himself. While he had seen combat before and reached the rank of Major, he felt he had yet to see warfare properly.

[Faclan]

(Sorry for the wait.)

Kael Gel - T'vaoan Sect Leader
Covenant Staging Area
Worried and nervous.

Nodding in satisfaction as Roh left Kael let out a sigh once he was out of ear shot. Tilting her head down while moving up a hand to undo the clasp holding it secure she let it fall into her hands so she could hold her beak with her other hand. She didn't like this...Roh would be with one of her best and most trusted fighters but she wanted to be there. Make sure he didn't get taken again. The Humans were bad but Herectics would know about Kig-Yar clan politics. If any of them found out who Roh was they could hold him for incredible ransom...Until Roh killed himself to remove that as a possibility.

Groaning at this realization Kael grumbled to herself as she paced around the back of the Chieftains tent before a radio message from Tal brought her from her thoughts of doom and gloom. "Mistress, the base preparations are proceeding well and the city and hunting party are preparing to leave. Do you have any other orders?"

Slipping her helmet back over her head she keyed her radio after a moment of contemplation. "Not for the Entourage or the lances under our command. Tell them to standby. Once the city or hunting party give us information we will move to secure the city, if needed, or hunt down Revull."

"Aye Mistress."

Waiting would let the bad thoughts return...she needed to do something. Giving the air a sniff it wasn't hard to follow the smells to Garatus's side. But she stopped near his body guards as it seemed like he and his uncle were busy having a chat. Likely some old twaddle about proper ape leadership and spirituality. But Kael respectfully waited until they were finished. She, as her rank in the sect permitted, could have just walked up and demanded an audience with her follow commander. But it would give her time to think of a proper reason to talk besides trying to ease her concerns.

Both Jiralhanae could probably easily smell and see the tension in the female however when she did move toward them.


Eugenius - Jiralhanae Advisor and Mystic
Chieftain's side
Family issues?

(Fenarious)
"Theres a good lad, looking ahead with vigor is all well and good as long as you dont miss the shadows behind you. And the Sangheili have quite a few shadows. Enjoy yourself in the hunt but remember that we need information. Be sure you get that before you send the fility herectic to be the mulch for the Sheppard Goddess." (Praise be Sheep \o/) And with that Eugine left to meet with Garatus, who seemed to be in quite the moral pickle.

(Garatus)
Grunting a bit as he was called 'too kind' Eugine had half a mind to thump Garatus on the head for even mentioning such a possibility! But just lightly thumped his shoulder while cracking a slight smile. Seemed the Elder was in good spirits today as he listened. His smile soon disappeared as it was revealed that his Nephew was having some doubts about what was happening.

Letting out a breath after Garatus was finished Eugine lent on his staff as he started with a simple nod, not noticing that Kael was waiting in the wings but even her ears wouldn't hear what the two family members were discussing.

"It was, nearly all the time when I served in a more active roll. As you know back then I used to swallow all the Sangheili said about the Humans and their worlds. How they were terrible and heretical and their lands were so unpure and all that shit." Blimey. "But when I was forced from active duty it gave me time to think as I recovered. And I kept coming up with the same conclusion - that while they may be small and weak they were worthy of some respect. And their worlds were as well. We go against our own beliefs of the land in causes such as this just because the Higher ups demand it. This planet could feed many of the packs back home even as it is now. But the Sangheili will likely waste it all in their own misguided view of what has to be done. Throwing it away because they never worry about food. They have never had to face shortages. Famines. Bad seasons. Because they get the poor Unggoy, Kig-Yar, or us to farm for them." Thumping his staff against the ground Eugine grimaced before he continued. "Mark my words, should this Covenant ever end the Sangheili will be killed each other just over a harvest bushel - and we'll be able to finally just return to the land without their constant harassment..." He became much more somber as he gazed across the farmlands. "If we even remember how to."

(Hope thats the kind of stuff Garatus meant D: .)

Snorting a bit Eugine went back to a more neutral expression as one of the body guards made a quiet cough which made the Elder look over. Garatus had probably already smelt the T'vaoan approach as Eugine looked her over. She was likely allowed to come forward as Eugine whispered to Garauts.

"She looks tense...three drinks on it being about Roh." He started to smile before frowning and shaking his head. "Apologies, that was in poor taste."

Garatus would have time to respond before the female spoke up - Kael giving a salute despite the similar rank before she spoke.

"Chief Garatus - I would like to confirm for myself that once our Hunting party finds out the information needed that you and myself will be riding to the Herectic camp to bring Revulls head back?"

Eugine huhed quietly as he thought of that. That sure sounded like it was about Roh since that what the young boy had been sent to do. He felt bad about how Kael was feeling. But Garatus would be better to talk to her about that. Euigne had once had his own children...but they had fallen in a Pack feud around thirty years ago now - not to Humans.


Vesa Gel - T'vaoan Commando
Outskirts of Covenant Area
Lets see whatcha' can do.

Currently seated on top of a ruined Human harvester with her R-5 over her lap Vesa just looked up on occasion as she made sure her rifle was ready to go. Checking the action, barrel, stock, and trigger to make sure the new trigger she installed was working as adveritsed. It better, or that Ibie'Shan who sold it to her would be losing his favorite finger. Just responding with a affirmative when Tal, who was overseeing the groups heading to meet her and the T'vaoan of Kael's Entouragre who were selected to go hunting, informed her that the Jiralhanae of the hunters would be led by a Major Fenarious. She was sure he would be skilled and good to follow through with the hunt. Though when he bounded forward into the camp she became less than sure about his ability to wound with that massive mace he carried. They needed information, not corpses. But she was thankfully distracted from the overeager Major by Roh approaching.

Thankfully Vesa was one of the T'vaoan of Kaels Entourage that was just glad to have Roh with them proper. She in fact hoped that she could teach him some tricks. Make a good impression and all for herself and her Mama and Papa - while she was Gel her actual family were a big low on the monetary chain and could use a helping hand. But that was for later.

Hopping off the vehical husk Vesa landed and returned the salute - the landing clicking out her twin footblades as she began to load her rifle while looking at Roh. "Glad to have you here Roh - better to have real work with your own than having to scrabble at the Split-Faces beck and call eh?" Loading finishes she slung her rifle over her shoulder and rolled her arms as she nodded at the Arrestor on Rohs back. "Good to see you have that, while I know our allies of both species can take live captives you will help ensure that we get some. And now that you are here we can move. Assuming the Jiralhanae are ready."

Rearing back her head the Commando leashed a warbling call into the air, the T'vaoan who had been prepping, talking with other bird lizards, or with the Jiralhanae - all immediatly hopping to their feet and standing ready. Vesa giving Roh a 'follow' gesture as she began to walk toward the fields that would lead them toward the rough area of the Herectic camp.

"Are your Hunters ready Major?" She asked Fenarious as she moved past, slowing slightly to hear his response. The T'vaoan clearly ready.


(No Cad this post as it would just be more for Garatus to reply too and hes just marching now. Hope thats ok that Fenarious is leading the ape hunters BetaWülf Good to see I can still do these after that time of not wanting to >.> )

[tetsu]

1St Lieutenant Luiz Javier Selva
120th MEU Marine Expeditionary Force // Echo Company Attachment // 2nd Platoon // Call Sign: Echo 3
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Rally Compartment Sierra
Enroute to Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551
Current Status: Green
“Force Recon Lead the way!”

The slow methodical pounding of his boots resonated in unison with his platoon as they formed up, getting ready for the deployment down to the planet. It had been talked about the almost 17 hours previously; however there was a sudden quite among his expeditionary force, that he couldn’t help but sigh as he adjusted his helmet, linking his TAC Pad, which was in his butt bag, as it adjusted the Heads Up Display that would in turn change the displays on his unit’s corresponding HUDs. Quickly tapping into the comms link, he would begin to divulge his orders as well as his call sign as he quickly switched his comms over to the Echo frequency as his men fell in, waiting for their deployment as Selva stood in the front rank of his platoon. His Platoon’s assets, primary their own personnel were being allocated under the command of the commander of Echo Company, one Captain Sorelson, who was their acting CO and had accurately explained their battle plan. LT. Selva prepared the men for their drop to the surface as the briefing was completed, and it was time to begin loading up. “Echo Actual, This is Echo 3, our Status is currently Green ready on your mark.” Selva would curtly remark as the Force Recon marines quickly found their way to their respective pelican dropships. Gunnery Sargent Ames was having a field day organizing the pattern for which each dropship was filled.

With three Squads in total under his command, each one occupying their own pelican with an assortment of Platoon NCOs, Corpsman and the like of such UNSC staff that would be accompanying them. Slowly climbing into the central bay of the dropship as he adjusted his helmet a bit as he grabbed onto one of the hanging straps as the troops strapped themselves up there in the bay. These marines were members of the Force Recon, specially trained for Ariel drops like the one they were doing now, this wasn’t their first rodeo, and it hopefully wasn’t going to be second platoon’s last. “Alright Marines, Listen up.” Selva addressed 1st squad as they entered the ship, each respective squad surely receiving their own vote of confidence from their NCOs as Selva looked through his gear very quickly. “We’re going to be dropping planet side, when your boots hit the dirt I want to see a perimeter set up as quickly as possible so that we can get the rest of these Marines on the ground.” Selva said firmly as he clasped his safety buck over his waist and torso. “Force Recon leads the way, I want your ass on the ground before anyone else, we will be the first ones’ off and the last ones’ off that damn planet, is that understood?” Selva gripeped almost out of habit as his marines knew what was expected of them.

Quickly checking though his gear, his M6B Grey Steel toned Sidearm, with the strange grooves in the handle to make it more compatible with CQC methods, was strapped securely in its black holster that was secured around his right leg, while his MA5B Assault Rifle was clipped securely to his ballistic chest plate. Also secured to his back, just above his butt bag was his UNSCDF Combat knife [handle facing left hand] His butt bag was fixed with a number of magazines filled with ammunition, a bio foam canister, and a few other trinkets. A few M9 fragmentation grenades [2/2] were stuffed into the butt bag as well, making his tagged on gear decent enough. His tactical pack which was placed in between his feet as he quickly looked through the assorted gear, most notably one of the repelling cables that he had made standard issue for the platoon, rebreathers of the same consequence, an entrenchment tool, a map and compass, a small multi tool and of course an assortment of flashlights, MREs and his spare canteen. He heard their collective “ohrah” cheer in the blood tray as the Force Recon platoon quickly loaded up into the dropships without any complain beyond. “Sargent Naraka, patch me through to the Captain’s secure channel Comms please, we should have the needed authorization.” The Lieutenant asked of his communications officer as he began to see the green light displays from his squad leaders being posted one by one on his HUD. The ships would have been promptly loaded and yet Selva was no less phased than a moment before at the amazing determination of the Force Recon, or even someone from the ODSTs. It was amazing to see the machine at work. Taking a moment for the comms text to read over onto his own TAC pat, which of course synchronized with his HUD present over his right eye piece and the neural implants that each soldier carried with them, as well as linking with the gear that had an uplink.

The MA5Bs display quickly became visible under the scope of the HUD and other displays connected with the helmet as Selva took the pad from its secure pouch in his butt bag so that he could take a look at their LZ, objectives, maps, coordinates, and other data that could prove useful to them in surviving the landing. Quickly dragging the local map over to the right hand corner so that I occupied the top quarter of the pad, 1st LT. Selva quickly looked over the LZ marker; which was located at what looked like a place marked on the map as Lake Town [Latitude and Longitude not given as current]. Scratching his chin as he opened up the comms link second that linked the other CO’s pads to the Captains and his to the colonials, etc. Selva quickly logged into the serve, nodding off Sgt. Naraka as he was sure the comms had been confirmed.

//Logon 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva: Echo Company attachment Call sign: Echo/Second Platoon\\

//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted\\

/Patch Local Sever, Echo Call Signs, Captain Mark Solerson \\

//Status: Green\\

"Lt. Selva: Captain Solerson, it looks like we are with you today sir, 120th Marine Expeditionary Forces, 2nd Platoon at your service sir, just tell me where you want us." 

Selva would offer in the text chat as it would appear on the display of both Selva’s TAC pad and that of the Captain’s, who currently resided on a different dropship. He looked up at the net webbing storage compartment above their heads as he let his Marines fill in the buckled seats. Selva would surely stand up after they entered the atmosphere, but as it was entering without a buckle could result in some early casualties that could easily be avoided. Above in the netting resided parachutes; which was fairly humorous since Luiz hadn’t seen anything like that since his OCS when they were first being trained to use such things. Needless to say there were options. In addition to the parachutes there were some first aid supplies up front by the cockpit, and what looked like an assortment of supplies and ammunition sorted with the parachutes. They were not going into this engagement naked, and they had a lot of wiggle room to play with. Flexibility could be key in combat after all.

2nd company occupied 2 dropships with Deployment pods sliding along the blood tray specifically designed for troop transport. Luiz Buckled himself towards the back of the dropship as he adjusted his gear, determining that he would be one of the first pairs of boots on the ground. It was his mantra after all. In his previous tour, he had been there with his guys the whole way, making sure he did is duty to them as their CO. It was a basic understanding between a soldier and his officers that the officers would do everything in their power to complete a task with a little loss of life as possible. Luiz hoped that this Captain, which he had heard much about in stories and legends lived up to the tales. Quickly glancing at his pad waiting for a response, he could feel the anticipation building as the Dropships waited for the mark to launch.

[Wax™]

((If anyone would like to be in Kara's pelican just send me a PM or tag me in your next post.))

Flight Captain Kara Palmer
120th MEU // 29th Marine Aviation Squadron //  Call Sign: Delta - Triple Eight
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Hangar/Flight Deck
Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551

Kara was sitting in the Pilot's seat of her D77H - TCI Pelican Dropship. She had been for the past thirty minutes doing pre-flight checks of all her electrics, engines and flaps. Though for the past five minutes she simply stared down at a photograph in her hands. She let go of it with her right hand to run her index and middle fingers down the length of the picture before gripping onto it with two hands again. In the picture could be seen Kara in a knee high picnic dress with random patterns all over it and a wide brim sun hat. Just to her right in the centre of the photograph was a young girl aged around six around the time the picture was taken. Long dirty blonde hair tied up in pig tails and she too was wearing a dress similar to Kara's. Further right of the little girl the picture was cut off short as the rest was seemingly folded around the backside of the photograph. From the way it was folded one could only just make out the hand of a man resting on the younger girls shoulder. Kara unfolded it for a moment to reveal a tall man in a Marine dress blue uniform. Kara closed her eyes and let out a sigh before folding the image again and sliding it into a crevice in her flight console.

“Marines, Mission is a go, repeat, mission is a go. Pilot: contact LSO for departure instructions, bridge out.”
Kara perked up as she heard the message come through the ships PA systems. She leaned out of her seat and looked out of the cockpit's door into the extended 'blood-tray' which could hold at most a platoon of marines. She slid out of her seat and stood in the doorway. She was currently wearing her flight BDU with full armour in the event of an emergency set down or 'crash'. Due to the event they were launching from space she was also wearing a vacuum suit much like her co-pilot 2nd Lieutenant Terrance Walker and her crew-chief and tail gunner, Senior Airman Ben Warren, a luxury the marines were not awarded. The three also had full-faced helmets which were sealed to the rest of the suit and polarised with a bronze tint. No one could see in.

"Cap." Walker nodded to Kara as he stepped into the Pelican and proceeded to walk up the blood-tray and into the cockpit. Kara stepped out his way and allowed him in. He quickly found his seat at the rear and highest point of the cockpit. A minute after SA Warren entered the cockpit and nodded at Kara. Kara returned the gesture before crossing her arms and watching silently. Warren turned on his heels at the edge of the compartment by the ramp/door. He raised his right hand and pulled the M247 General Purpose Machine Gun which was mounted to the roof. Kara and Warren then watched as marines begun to pile onto the pelican. A few marines charging to the very back to make sure they actually got seats. Warren then prepared to yell over all the commotion.

"Wooooooooh!" He started enthusiastically. "Lets go marines! Welcome to Delta airways! Your one way non stop flight to kick some covie ass ville!"

Kara rolled her eyes under her visor before making her way back into the cockpit. Tapping at the control panel inside to close the door behind her. As she did so she proceeded to the very front of the cockpit and sat herself down in the pilots chair. She then opened up a channel to the hangar's LSO. Though just before opening it up she addressed Walker.

"Spin up."

"Spinning up." Walker replied.

"Delta 888 to Hangar-S LS Officer... Initiating engine ignition and awaiting departure instructions, over."

"Delta T8, be advised be prepared for hot departure, wait one." There was a slight pause before the officer began to speak again. "Delta T8, pleased be advised your initial LZ has been updated by MEU CO, you will now be landing at LZ Laketown, how copy?"

"Solid copy LSO, over."

"Roger solid copy... Delta T8 you are cleared for hot departure, wait for your sardine can to pack up then launch when safe, out."

Kara closed the channel and begun a quick control and engine diagnostic. She raised her right arm and begun to switch a few controls on the roof panels. She then used her feet to work the pedals on the floor, making sure her wings rotation was working. She also gripped her 'joystick' with one hand and gave it a little bit of a play with. Satisfied she raised her arm and turned the switches back off before looking up at Walker and giving him a nod. Meanwhile Warren in the 'blood-tray' was making the marines feel right at home.

"Dear Marines! On behalf of the Captain of Delta Airways, I offer my sincere condolences but we will be unable to provide out in flight entertainment or snacking options due to the short air-time of our flight." Warren yelled over the engines and commotion in the blood-tray before stepping up to the cockpit bulkhead to begin checking the marines seated. All he did really was walk up and down patting them on the shoulder to make sure their gear was stowed and they were strapped in.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet/15th Battlegroup: Hanger/Flight Deck: Pelican Delta - Triple Eight: Status: Deploying: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

//Logon 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva: Echo Company
attachment Call sign: Echo/Second Platoon\\
//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted\\
/Patch Local Sever, Echo Call Signs, Captain Mark Solerson \\
//Status: Green\\

“Lt. Selva: Captain Sorelson. It looks like we are with you today, Sir. 120th Marine Expeditionary Force, 2nd Platoon at your service, Sir. Just tell me where you want us,”

Moments after he‘d sent an encrypted text to Drake, his TACPAD alerted him to another text received from as the tags indicated the sender had been First Lieutenant Luiz Selva. Mark had known the young Lieutenant had been a ForceRecon Marine and had the luck to have landed the billet as commanding a Second ForceRecon Marine Platoon attached to his Company hadn’t been exactly green in terms of having engaged the Covenant, but had been new to Echo Company. Mark had known every marine that had been either shared the same Fireteam he‘d been in to the squads and platoons and finally to the entire company, but he‘d seen his share of empty boots and empty chairs to know the reputation Echo Company had acquired over the years. Whether the reputation garnered had actually been based on facts or blown to mythic proportions by recruits in their barracks, he knew that Echo Company had garnered a reputation for taking the heaviest of losses but in dishing out the worst to the Covenant. Echo Company had been known for taking more than its share of casualties, of fallen marines, and there had been a part of him that as with the rumor circulating about his having been born on the grounds of Fort Lewis he hadn‘t been about to dismiss the rumors surrounding his company. The notions of both rumors and reputations had a means of keeping a marine alive by forcing them to question their own merits to sparking off fears that a marine may face and even in keeping them aware of their own mortality. Those mantras had been something an Old Drill Instructor of Mark‘s had instilled in Mark as a recruit along with those in his training platoon or at least tried to, and through his own experience had come to know by heart. A marine fighting in a foxhole next to him or in a blood-tray hadn‘t been any good to him if the marine hadn‘t been afraid, and he sure as hell wouldn‘t ride shotgun or drive a warthog for a marine that hadn‘t been afraid. If one were afraid, it had meant they were still alive.

//Logon Captain Mark Sorelson: Echo Company
attachment Call sign: Echo Actual\\
//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted\\
/Patch Local Sever, Echo Call Signs, 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva \\
//Status: Green\\

“Captain Sorelson: 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva. Welcome to the party. While I admire the formality of the heading and your efforts in keeping the message brief, those in Echo Company know I‘m not one for formality when the fur starts to fly. Don’t feel bad. You’re new to the Company, and you’ll find I’m not your typical officer. The only thing I ask is for you to lead your marines as best you can, in keeping you and them safe. Once we hit dirt-side, the first plan is to assist and reinforce the First Responders already engaged with a Platoon-sized Covenant force within the town of LakeTown. See to the civilians and get them out of the path of fire, but make sure you keep your heads down too. I don‘t want to fill body-bags, not more than I have anyways. Keep your marines aware. Arrange your marines how you see fit,”

Mark concluded the text message before sending it back over the encrypted channel even though his own HUD indicator showed the Lieutenant had boarded the same Pelican he and Drake had. Looking up from his TACPAD before sending the message, the aging Captain followed his HUD’s indicator to find the young Lieutenant had taken a spot near the back of the Deployment Pod that extended the Pelican’s blood-tray and closer to the ramp. Looking down, Mark sent the message back over the encrypted frequency before waiting until the exact moment Luiz might have looked up to briefly wave a little.

“Woooooooh!” he heard the door gunner, a Senior Airman from the looks of his rank manning an M247 GPMG overlooking the ramp shout before the thrum of the engines filled the bay. “Let’s go marines! Welcome to Delta Airways! Your one way none-stop flight to kick some covie ass ville!”

“Dear Marines! On behalf of the Captain of Delta Airways, I offer my sincere condolences but we will be unable to provide our in flight entertainment or snacking options due to the short air-time of our flight,” the Senior Airman shouted again before crossing back along the center of both the Deployment Pod and the blood-tray checking on each of the marines aboard.

(OOC: I hope you wouldn‘t mind, Wax, if I had Mark and some of his marines aboard your character‘s Pelican and I do apologize for assuming Drake was in the same Pelican as Mark. You did mention in your post he sat across from him.)

[tetsu]

1St Lieutenant Luiz Javier Selva
120th MEU Marine Expeditionary Force // Echo Company Attachment // 2nd Platoon // Call Sign: Echo 3
Aboard UNSCS Iowa, Rally Compartment Echo Company
Enroute to Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551
Current Status: Green
“Closer Than It First Appeared”

Luiz could feel the tension in the blood tray as his message sent without error. “Alright then, let’s see what our orders are.” Luiz muttered with a sigh as he quickly reached down towards his holster, not drawing the weapon but putting his hand on the hilt of his customized firearm. It was much like a nervous tick for him as he looked at the clean chrome coat of the M6B model pistol that had once belonged to his brother, Hernan Fuente Selva de Cerda, who was originally part of the garrison in Bogota before his deployment and eventual demise in the UNSCMC what seemed like years ago. Luiz felt comforted by the smooth steel as he watched the display on his HUD which displayed a message that was linked to his TAC pad that was resting in his lap as he was sure his CO’s orders were being issued.

//Logon Captain Mark Sorelson: Echo Company
Attachment Call sign: Echo Actual\\
//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted\\
/Patch Local Sever, Echo Call Signs, 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva \\
//Status: Green\\

“Captain Sorelson: 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva. Welcome to the party. While I admire the formality of the heading and your efforts in keeping the message brief, those in Echo Company know I‘m not one for formality when the fur starts to fly. Don’t feel bad. You’re new to the Company, and you’ll find I’m not your typical officer. The only thing I ask is for you to lead your marines as best you can, in keeping you and them safe. Once we hit dirt-side, the first plan is to assist and reinforce the First Responders already engaged with a Platoon-sized Covenant force within the town of LakeTown. See to the civilians and get them out of the path of fire, but make sure you keep your heads down too. I don‘t want to fill body-bags, not more than I have anyways. Keep your marines aware. Arrange your marines how you see fit,”

To Luiz’s surprise, these weren’t quite orders…but more so simply telling him that he was in charge of his guys. Luiz couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the notion, as it was his job to bring his Marines home, not matter what happened. He appreciated the Captain’s gumption, and his seemingly familiar tone. This Captain Sorelson had no trouble making him feel like part of the company’s staff, even though he was simply the Platoon leader of an attachment of Force Recon marines. The young Lieutenant read through the message quickly, quickly moving the text box over to the corner of the pad as he looked at the map for a moment making a few markings on the map where LakeTown was retrospectively located on the map, at least as far as his Intel would provide. It was in that moment that he noticed something strange on his HUD map as it registered the location of the Captain’s transmission. Looking up and across the blood tray, Luiz would simply notice an older looking gentleman, dressed like any marine…just like himself, waving at him slightly.

Luiz felt as if a rock had gotten caught in his throat. Damn it, why did I not notice the Captain aboard the ship before?! Luiz thought as he fought the urge to salute, figuring from the Captain’s tone in his message that he wouldn’t appreciate the formality now that it was time more combat. Luiz’s hand almost shooting up towards his face for the salute was recovered, letting him wave back almost robotically as he sighed with self-disappointment. “Great…now the Captain, this legendary Captain…probably thinks me and my unit are one big joke.” He thought to himself with a sigh as he looked back at his TAC pad, figuring that right before combat was not the right time to be worrying about superficial things like that. He didn’t want the Captain to think poorly of his boys, they had seen so much and fought so hard, he had to repay the favor by doing his duty as an officer, by bring as many of them back to their families as possible. Luiz felt a bit conflicted about responding to the Captain over the TAC Pad while he was right in front of him, it was quite impersonal to do such a thing, and it wasn’t really Luiz’s style. “Sgt. Naraka, please link me to Echo Actual’s vocal comms please.” Luiz whispered to the comms officer as he would quickly fiddle with his own data pad, checking the comms on the radio transceiver that he carried with him in his pack.

//Logon 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva: Echo Company attachment Call sign: Echo/Second Platoon\\
//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted\\
/Patch Local Sever, Echo Call Signs, Captain Mark Sorelson \\
//Vocal Comms Access, Captain Mark Sorelson, and Access: Granted\\
//Status: Green\\

LT. Selva: “Thanks for the warm welcome Captain, I’ll make sure to bring as many of my boys home as possible.”

“Captain, 2nd Platoon will focus on forming your perimeter, just leave the covering to us while Echo Company disembarks.”

Luiz would state calmly as he would throw a brisk thumbs up to the Captain across the blood tray before quickly switching to his platoon’s channel. “Alright boys, as soon as our boots hit dirt, we will be executing Entrenchment order Delta Shield.” Luiz said, knowing his Marines would understand the jargon. “About a 30 meter area, I want you to dig in and focus only on protecting Echo Company while they disembark.” Luiz would add as he knew that they would want something that could be more classified as an order opposed to simply asking them. He knew his guys would listen to him even if he asked them with a please, but that wasn’t the way to nurture strong marines. “I know we can do it, just dig in and don’t let go, it’s my duty to bring each and every one of you home, so until then do your best to help me keep you alive.” Luiz would state simply like he always did before battle. “As always, it’s been a pleasure gentlemen, Second Squad I’ll be joining you for this first portion of the battle, just a heads up,” Luiz said, always wanting to fight on the front lines with his men, how else could he look after them?

After a few confirmations from his NCO’s Luiz nodded with approval, switching his comms back to the Captains channel.

LT. Selva – Capt. Sorelson: “Sir, Force Recon will lead the way, oohrah.”

Selva would state before letting his comms hover with some silence as he put his TAC pad back in his butt bag and he strapped down his gear very quickly. Luiz felt the dropship beginning to move as he closed his eyes, relaxing for a moment as he couldn’t help but think about all the times he had been in a similar situation. It was terrifying and exciting all at once. His men would get to test their mettle once again, and yet he felt a twinge of sadness, knowing that not all of them would come back home alive. Hoping for the best as he let the ship take off, he relaxed holding onto his pack as he would glance over at the Captain for but a moment and smile, mouthing the words “Lets’ kick some ass…” As the deployment would surely feel just as uncomfortable as ever.

OOC: Thanks for letting me on your bird Wax, I really appreciate it you wonderful person :3

[tento125]

Staff Sergeant Shinji Akiwara
120th MEU, Echo Company, 4th Platoon
Aboard UNSC Iowa
Lets give em hell!
Tags: Wax™ , Cabel
"Marines, Mission is a go, repeat, mission is a go. Pilot: contact LSO for departure instructions, bridge out
" a voice blared through the compartment speakers.

"Staff Sergeant," Shinji heard Lt. Allen piqued.

"Sir?"

"Split the platoon into the respective squads for the ride down. That way if we get shot down, we don't get all killed in one go. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Shinji replied, though he couldn't help to think why did the Lt. made that kind of decision. Yes if they all split up for the ride down, they wouldn't get all killed in one shot if the pelican they rode on gets shot down. However, by splitting up, it will make it a lot harder for the platoon to form up after they hit the ground, making communication complicated. On the other hand, the Lt is calling the shots here so..........

"I'll go down with first squad on one pelican and you and second squad on another. Third and fourth squads will go down on separate birds.... if that's alright with you sir"

"Fair enough" the Lt replied before turning towards the row of marines comprising fourth platoon echo company "Marines!" he started, "We'll be separating into different squads for the ride down. First squad is with Staff Sergeant Akiwara here......" pointing towards Shinji. 

Everyone already knows who the fuck I am ya moron.... Shinji thought to himself. The more he spent time with this guy, the more he hated him. 


".... while Second squad rides with me. Third and Fourth squads, you're on your own. We'll regroup again once we hit dirt-side. Questions?" there were none, "Good, then lets go marines!"

"OOH-RAH!" 48 marines replied in complete unison as they quickly separated into their respective squads. Shinji easily managed to link up with first squad and its sergeant, Shinji's best friend, Sergeant Samuel Smith.

"Hey Shin!" Sam called "Why the fuck are we splitting up?"

"So that we don't get all killed if we happen to get shot down"

"Yeah but, it would be much harder to link up with the rest of the platoon afterwards"

"Just shut up and follow what he says" Shinji retorted "I don't like it either but orders are orders, and I have my own personal thing to worry about"

"Like wha--oh..... your meal" Every member of fourth platoon, except for some newbies, knew that Shinji has a weak stomach. Every time he enters the atmosphere on a pelican (or on anything for that matter), his food has a tendency to exit his body via his mouth.  Although he has gone on numerous entries, he still has a hard time controlling his stomach.

"Meh, who knows? I might be able to keep it in this time" they both chuckled. 

"Just don't throw it on someone important" Sam replied, to which the entire squad erupted in laughter. A couple of years ago, Shinji had actually puked out on their previous platoon commander during a return trip to reach. The then platoon commander gave such a fit that he had to be reassigned.....and replaced by Lt Allen. 

"Actually, you might wanna consider doing that on the Lt." a female voice piqued up. Shinji instantly recognized it, partly because there's only a few females in 1st squad, but mainly because 1st squad comprised of the most experienced men that 4th platoon had, including those that went through boot camp with Shinji. The voice belonged to Lance Corporal Amber Richardson.

"And why is that corporal?" Sam asked

"So that he can get reassigned as well"

More laughter followed as they made their way to a waiting pelican. 

"Guardian Actual to all call signs this net, be advised," the voice of the Colonel sounded over the local marine net "LZ one has been scratched - new LZ is LZ Lake Town, break... Initial reports indicate that local law enforcement is falling to a Covenant unit roughly a platoon in strength, break. Orders are to deploy and engage the enemy to reclaim the town, Guardian Actual out."

Wait what? Shinji thought to himself. He chose his loadout, an M392 Designated Marksmen Rifle and a M6 Magnum in the expectation of long ranged combat, not in a god damn town!!!!!!! There was no time either for a change in weapons, so Shinji will have to make do with what is available to him.

The squad then made its way up the ramp, still laughing from the earlier jokes, past an obviously way too gun-ho senior airman judging from the way he greeted the marines with the words "......Welcome to Delta Airways! Your one way none-stop flight to kick some covie ass ville!
"

They then started securing their gear to the bulkheads, completely oblivious to other marines, and continued with their banter. 

"Dear Marines!" the senior airman shouted again "On behalf of the Captain of Delta Airways, I offer my sincere condolences but we will be unable to provide our in flight entertainment or snacking options due to the short air-time of our flight"

"Aww.... not even beverages?" Shinji heard Sam being his usual clownish self.

"Hey!" he heard Amber call out "Does your airway provide sick bags as well? You see, our friend here," jerking her thumb towards Shinji "Has a very weak stoma..... oh shit"

Suddenly, every member of the squad ceased all activity and turned to what Amber was reacting to.
There, in a seat, in full BDU just like every other marine, was the CO of Echo Company himself, Captain Mark "Spade" Sorelson.

Oh you have got to be kidding me......... Shinji thought to himself. The Captain had just heard the entire banter between the squad.... which was mostly directed Shinji and his weak stomach. He usually just let them be, since most of them he considered as true friends since boot camp. And he will be damned if he saw Amber demoted..... again.

He gulped hard as he stepped forward to defend his fellow marines. "Apologies for the behavior of my men sir" he said as he executed a crisp salute "We've been through a lot together and we have bonded as more than mere comrades, but as true friends sir." He gulped again as he waited for the response.....


(OOC: Had some spare time so I decided to make the post so that Wax can send our marines to kick covie ass. Also apologies if this isn't really thought out or anything, I kinda rushed it......)

[Wax™]

Flight Captain Kara Palmer
120th MEU // 29th Marine Aviation Squadron // Call Sign: Delta - Triple Eight
Landing on LZ Laketown, Esperanza II
Esperanza II, Panis Eterni System, 2551
Tags: tento125

Kara sat idle in the pilots seat of her Pelican watching a small monitor built into the left hand side of her main flight control console. On the monitor was a view of the entire rear cabin of her Pelican. She had bee watching the marines board her aircraft and counting them one by one. Right now she was at forty three, even though the maximum number of marines you're technically 'allowed' on an extended Pelican cabin is thirty. Though the marine core would always cram their men onto Pelicans and Albatross' like sardines in a can to maximise the combat effectiveness of them during mass deployments and insertions. Kara decided that she would now close the rear hatch to her Pelican. Lifting an arm to flick two switches on a control panel mounted to the left wall she was sitting against. The rear hatch begun to close and once it did the cabin would pressurise. Though it didn't much matter for her or her crew as they were wearing fully armoured vacuum suits. Upon pressurisation the cabin lights would shut off and be replaced my much dimmer red ones. Kara then begun to lift the Pelican off the bottom of the Hangar bay and retract the landing gear and rear pegs. She then taxi'd out the Hangar and into the vast nothingness of space. Meanwhile in the Cabin, SA Warren was just being himself.

"Hey!" Warren heard a feminine voice call out to him. Warren turned around and looked left and right. He soon found the source of the voice and locked in on her. Due to his HUD he was able to see the full name and rank of the woman who spoke. "Does your airway provide sick bags as well? You see, our friend here." She continued before pointing over to her Sergeant, Shinji. "Has a very weak stoma..... oh shit."


Once the woman finished speaking Warren begun to push and squeeze his way over to Amber before bending over and place in his hands on his knees. He stared at her intently though all she would be able to see is her reflection in the golden polarised visor. Much like a SPARTAN's.

"No Lance Corporal Richardson we do not have sick bags on this flight... That's what you Jar Heads have your buckets for." He'd lift a hand off his knee and pat down on Amber's helmet a few times before standing up and looking over to Shinji. (Assuming they're sitting by one another.)

"Throw some of these down your gob Akiwara." Warren would say, he'd dig a hand into one of the pouches attached to his webbing and pull out a small pill container tossing it into the Sergeants lap. "...Might be a bit late for them but the'll help." Upon giving the Sergeant the pill bottle he'd begin squeezing his way back through the crowd. Feeling the Pelican move, once he'd make it back to the Gunner, he'd attach a 'safety rope' from his belt onto the gun itself.

"Hang on marines."

Meanwhile now in Space Kara punched it, throwing the Pelican into full forward trust. Almost everyone in the cabin would feel the sudden thrust as they were going next to nowhere fast to all of a sudden going everywhere at once speed. It was only a few moments before the Pelican had begun to punch through the atmosphere. Having passed a couple that already left before them, due to the aggressive and speedy nature of Kara's flying. She only slowed down to punch through the atmosphere so as to not get torn to pieces but once they punched through she engaged maximum Thrust once again. Upon entering the planets climate and atmosphere it would probably have taken Kara a couple of minutes to have descended onto Laketown. Not but a few hundred meters off the actual surface of the planet she'd rip her Joystick back, taking the Pelican from a full vertical decent to a Horizontal once. Upon doing that she'd rotating the engines downward and engage full thrust. Rapidly and aggressively slowing the Pelican down. Enough so that everyone in the Pelican would be experiencing some G-forces.

"Ten seconds marines!" Kara would yell over the PA system of her Pelican which echoed through the 'blood-tray'.

Kara was landing in a large 'flatland' park in the middle of Laketown itself. The Park was about a hundred meters by two hundred meters across and was surrounded by important buildings such as the Town Center, Community Center, Court House and it wouldn't surprise Kara if there was a Police Station nearby. Soon enough however the Pelican was down and Kara engaged the landing gear and opened up the rear hatch, Warren the begun to yell at the marines to get out.

"Alright! Go, go, go, go! Get on it marines!" Warren yelled. Every now and then when a marine passed he'd put his hand on their backs and push them out of the Pelican faster, no matter what rank they were. "Let's go keep it moving!" He'd yell as some of the younger green marines paused and stuttered to get out. He made sure as Lance Corporal Amber was exiting the Pelican to get her a little love tap on the 'rear' though he slapped her 'butt bag' instead.

[edtosivaree]

Edto Xar'Sivaree stepped off the dropship and examined the War Camp the Brutes had set up. It was filled with activity, the various races in the area doing this and that to prepare for combat. Many of the Brutes that passed by gave her odd looks. A Sangheili, especially one of such short stature was uncommon and comical in all likelihood, but they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut about it. At least within earshot, which was good enough for the Ship Mistress. Last thing she needed was to bring Garatus bad news the second she had landed.

She wandered about the camp for a few minutes, escorted by two Sangheili Ultra's just for the demonstration that she was, in fact, a Ship Mistress, and not a child playing dress up somewhere she really should not be. After asking a few of the brutes where Garatus was, she managed to get a straight answer. On the outskirts of the War Camp. Exactly where he should be given her idea of his character. Probably itching to get out into the field and crack some skulls.

She found the Chieftain soon enough, standing next to another Brute. She walked over, waving away her guard. She was confident they would not be needed. Once she was close enough to be heard, she stopped. "You know Garatus... Human Snipers are much craftier than the Covenant give them credit for. I don't see standing on a hill to be exactly wise. No offense intended of course" She said casually, her pose relaxed. "Quite the good job you have done on the War Camp. Could not have done it better myself. My soldiers are likely at another camp, but I felt a visit here would be... Appropriate. I hope you do not mind the intrusion" She explained.

[Cabel]

[Inner Colonies: System: Panis Eterni Sector: Esperanza II: Current Location: UNSCS Iowa: 14th Tactical Response Fleet/15th Battlegroup: ‘Marine County‘: Hanger Deck/Flight Deck: Pelican Delta Triple-Eight: Status: Deploying: Captain Mark Seamus ‘Spade‘ Sorelson]

//Logon 1st Lieutenant Luiz Selva: Echo Company attachment Call Sign:
Echo/ Second Platoon//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted//
/Patch Local Server: Echo Call Signs: Captain Mark Sorelson//
//Vocal Comms Access, Captain Mark Sorelson, and Access: Granted//
//Status: Green//

LT Selva: “Thanks for the warm welcome, Captain, I’ll make sure to bring as many of my boys home as possible”
“Captain, Second Platoon will focus on forming your perimeter, just leave the covering to us while Echo Company disembarks,” the voice of First Lieutenant Luiz Selva chimed in over his helmet-mic over his encrypted frequency.

//Logon Captain Mark Sorelson: Call Sign: Echo Actual:
Echo Company//Current Proxy Server ONI Clearance Status: Not Granted//
/Patch Local Server: Echo Call Signs: First Lieutenant Luiz Selva//
//Vocal Comms Access, First Lieutenant Luiz Selva, and Access: Granted//
//Status: Green//

Captain Sorelson: “You’re more than welcome,” Mark replied over the Lieutenant’s encrypted frequency.

The commotion from marines boarding the Pelican to the random banter shared between them filled the bay, and had been a constant reminder for him that the war had been real for years now. A band of brotherhood had been what it had been called, by Shakespeare first centuries ago in Earth’s sixteenth century in his play of Henry V and the coined phrase had carried on through the centuries across a myriad of battlegrounds to the textbooks of students that only perceived it as little more than words on a page. Along with everyone that had joined the UNSC in their fight either in the inter-system conflicts involving jungles to the Jovian Moons to fighting Insurrectionists in the streets and even the Covenant in their own damned holy crusade, Mark had earned his place in that brotherhood but hadn’t counted himself a hero. He’d only been adhering to the principles of what a marine should, and had carried out his duties to the best of abilities while saving lives.

Friendly banter emanating from the First Squad of Fourth Platoon led by Staff Sergeant Shinji Akiwara…one of the more well-known and experienced NCOs in the Company snapped him out of his thoughts. The group of marines within that Squad had seen tough action at one time or another, and Mark knew they’d only witness more before the day’s end.

“Aww…not even beverages?” the aging Captain heard from another marine within that same squad, another NCO by the name of Sergeant Sam Smith ask as he passed the Senior Airman manning the ceiling-mounted M247 GPMG.

“Hey,” another marine by the name and rank of Lance Corporal Amber Richardson had called out approaching her own crash-seat in the blood-tray. “Does your airway provide sick bags as well? You see, our friend here…” having jerked her thumb towards Shinji, or at least that’s what Mark had been able to see anyways. “Has a very weak stom….oh shit,”

Looking up from the analogue watch strapped to his right wrist with the minute hand moving while the seconds ticked away, Mark saw each of the marines Fourth Platoon’s First Squad looking directly at him with either awe, reverence or fear.

“Apologies for the behavior of my men, Sir,” he heard Staff Sergeant Shinji Akiwara say, attempting to apologize for the witnessed behavior that otherwise would have been almost at place in a barracks at Boot Camp if Mark had been any other officer and if he hadn’t risen from being a single striper either. “We’ve been through a lot together and we have bonded as more than mere comrades, but as true friends, Sir,” the NCO said before Mark heard an all too audible gulp from the man.

“It’s quite alright, Sergeant. You and your men, and women, have earned it. I don’t care if you have a weak stomach. I only ask that if you feel the need to blow chunks, aim for the deck at your feet or…well, swallow it if you can. I‘d suggest not throwing up in your helmet since you‘ll have to wear it,” Mark said returning the salute. “I admire that. That bonding of a brotherhood will come back, and will be carried with you. How is your new Lieutenant working out? And please, strap in before this bird takes off and don‘t worry about being demoted or reprimanded. I don‘t have the ability to read minds, but I know when a marine believes they‘re about to get a chewing out of a lifetime. I wasn't that kind of NCO and I‘m not that kind of officer,”

He'd noted the Senior Airman had managed to push his way through the marines crammed into the Pelican’s blood-tray and the extended deployment pod before arriving as Lance Corporal Amber Richardson’s crash-seat and tapped her helmet a few times. Mark hadn’t been able to hear what the Senior Airman had told the Lance Corporal, but had been able to witness the Senior Airman tossing a bottle of pills to Staff Sergeant Shinji Akiwara. He’d have to mention something about it at a later point, but wouldn’t even bother reporting it since it came down to flight crews being the savior of many a marine with a weak stomach or jittery nerves. He’d probably even congratulate the Senior Airman at some point, and maybe buy his flight crew a round at one of Reach’s bars when they returned after he’d checked on the Staff Sergeant.

“Ten seconds marines!” he’d heard the Pilot’s voice blare out over the blood-tray’s PA system.

When the Pelican pushed from the deck, Mark had reached over to Shinji whom had probably still been standing after receiving the in-flight meds and in a way helped him into a crash-seat while remaining strapped to his own crash-seat. The inertia from the Pelican pushing through the bay doors caused the deck of the dropship to as wiggle as at least a few Privates described it.

* * * * * *

The G-forces produced by the Pelican breaching the atmosphere forced the Seattle born marine back into his the confines of his crash-seat while drawing the crash-straps tight. Keeping his eyes locked ahead knowing that moving in the intense G-forces would only cause him to over-exert himself, Mark kept his senses on the blood-tray’s deck and even the engine tones which changed pitch depending on the Pelican’s particular angle and from friction. There were those that might have called him insane or an adrenaline junkie for enjoying a Pelican’s drop towards planet though the word enjoy might have been an bit odd to describe it. Through his years in the Corps, Mark had come to at first loathe the drops to actually in a way looking forward to them. A combat-drop meant the marines aboard and the flight crew would always encounter an unknown variable on the surface either from an ever-changing front or from a downed Pelican or even a boarding action under fire, but it had been the bread and butter of every marine to meet that challenge or as had been the near-constant against the Covenant to survive it.

* * * * * *

“Ten seconds marines!” the Pilot, Captain Kara Palmer, yelled out over the PA System echoing along the blood-tray.

“One in the breach. Check your mags,” Mark shouted loudly across the blood-tray, making sure in his timing he hadn't interrupted any orders from the Pelican‘s flight crew. Spade triple-checked the chambered rounds in both the MA5C and the M6B Magnum along with the magazines he’d brought with him both on his person and in the rucksack.

“Alright! Go, go, go, go! Get on it marines!” the Senior Airman manning the door-gun yelled as the ramp lowered to reveal a rather picturesque-town that could have come directly out of an old TV series in the 20th Century. “Let’s go. Keep it moving!”

“You heard the Senior Airman. Get your backsides in gear, and those boots in the dirt, grass or on the asphalt!” Mark shouted as he raced outside following at least several of the other marines detaching the MA5C from its magnetic-attachment on his ballistics chest-plate. Prior to setting foot on one several asphalt roads intersecting the Town Center, he‘d managed to direct some of the more hesitant marines fresh from boot out of the aft-ramp and where they could make a greater difference than standing there with their collective thumbs up their backsides. As for the attempt by the Senior Airman to give Lance Corporal Amber Richardson’s backside a little tap, that gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed by him and he’d have a little word with the marine after the mission about it.

“Echo Actual to available Echo Call-signs ground-side. First order of business, find good cover with a good field of fire. I want this quad covered high and low,” Mark ordered, tugging out the helmet-mic gently and conveyed that order over the Company-wide encrypted frequency.

“Echo Actual to Lake Town PD, any Call-sign. What is your condition and location?” Mark asked, having tapped into the local Lake Town PD encrypted com-frequency he‘d been given in the staff-wide briefing prior to the individual Company briefing. The reports from semi-automatic to automatic and plasma weaponry echoed across the landscape and among the buildings, but having grown up hiking in the forests of Seattle the aging Captain had been able to hone his ears on the specific direction. He‘d been able to discern from the amount of weapons, from the echo of the same semi-automatic to automatic weapons to plasma weaponry being used how many defenders there had been and the disposition of the Covenant force.

“Who is this? If this is another prank, I‘ll have your hide” a male voice blared over the frequency, of which carried the echo of plasma strikes and the shouting of other orders from others nearby.

“Echo Actual to Lake Town PD. ID requested,” Mark said over the encrypted Lake Town PD frequency. After several repeated attempts to reach the first voice that had come over the Lake Town PD Encrypted frequency only to be met with static from that particular source Mark opened the Company-wide encrypted frequency having switched over to that channel leaving the police frequency available even he’d muted it on his end. Watching as the marines around him found spots with cover and concealment ranging from buildings to instacrete building stoops to other such locations that would give a good range of covering fire, Mark had to admit while he only had a finite of marines on the ground with the rest currently aboard armored dropships from either the Pelicans or the Albatross his marines had known what to do to. The more experienced marines on the ground assisted or at least reminded those on their first deployment of where they needed to go and what they needed to do without getting their heads or limbs shot off, but Mark had noted a glaring absence. For the batches of marines first on the ground, there hadn’t been any vehicle or armor support as those would come in later waves.

“Echo Actual to all Echo Call-signs, expect for this position to be hit hard. We are to hold this ground,” Mark said over the Company-wide encrypted frequency. Looking around for a moment, he realized the square hadn’t been the best of locations. With a park lined with manicured grass dotted here and there with park benches to free-standing metallic barbecue pits and the ever-characteristic feature of most parks from the Inner Colonies to those of the glassed Outer Colonies being several play-ground sets for the children of the colonists to play around on and to expend their energy on, the Seattle-born marine could have sworn he’d been on Reach or a dozen other worlds if not Earth itself.

Looking out from the park to the Town Square, the instacrete to granite lined buildings following the streamline moderne with a mix of new classic architecture that could have fit nicely in the twentieth century rather than the twenty-sixth century made Mark feel he’d been in an odd repeat of an old black and white TV serial from the twentieth century where the lines of good and evil were portrayed in a black and white two-tone and where morals were seen as more of a public announcement. “Dig in, boys and girls. We’re in this for the long haul. Use anything and everything you can. I want MG crews in the corners of those buildings or wherever you can get a good concealment, and I want marksmen where you have the best angles…” he’d go about doling out orders, and arrayed positions which covered other marine teams while cutting off access to the square from the Covenant. He’d designated the Community Center as a medical station or at least parts of it to the already existing community cafeterias to serve their purpose as mess halls and the storage rooms as ammunition depots, and above it all he saw to improvised defenses within the center itself in combination with the defenses in the town's center.