[IC] Twelfth Night (Closed)

[Shiloh]

Capt. Rolland Knight, UNSCMC
Special Activities Team “Joker Seven”
On board ONI Prowler UNSCS Simple Man, CIC
Traversing uncharted Systems

Rolland glanced around the various consoles displaying every bit of information that ONI had on this region of space—which, admittedly, was not a lot.

A few short years ago, every face behind those screens would have been decidedly human. Now, however, the crew was integrated with some of the Covenant separatists. There were, of course, tensions over this pairing; but after a few clandestine ops where both groups saved lives of the others, those faded away.

“Sir?” a Sangheili in jet black armor looked over at Rolland, “We’re getting some weird readings from that planet below. Could just be a solar flare, but it’s hard to tell for sure,”

“Alright, are solar flares common down there?” Rolland asked. He knew he probably wouldn’t get a great answer; the UNSC and Sangheili both knew very little about this planet. No human, alien, or anything else (as far as the UNSC could tell) had ever set foot on it, largely owing to its extremely inhospitable environment.

“That’s, uh—sir! I’m reading strong gravity anomalies originating from the planet’s surface, affecting the ship. It’s putting strain on our engines—”

Very suddenly, the entire ship shook with a heavy blast. The main lights all went dark in the CIC, replaced by an ominous red glow from emergency systems.

“What are you reading?” Rolland frantically asked the Sangheili, or anyone in the CIC who could possibly explain what the hell was going on.

“Sir, systems are going haywire!” an ONI ensign replied, “All I can tell you for sure is that we’re going down, straight down to the planet’s surface,”

The ship’s captain rushed into the CIC right at that moment, nerves visible on her pale face. “Prepare to evacuate on lifepods! We need everyone off this ship!”

“Negative, ma’am, life pods are malfunctioning!” the same ensign shouted over the rumbling ship, “So are drop pods…It’s like every system that could get us off this ship just stopped working!”

“Shit, then, we need to control the descent,” the captain’s eyes widened, “I’m going to the bridge, you all work with engineering and get those systems online!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am!” came a resounding response from the CIC. Rolland grabbed his helmet from the floor—where it had fallen from a table—and donned it. He instinctively felt at his hip as if to ensure that his M7 was there, then started looking at all the screens, listening to all the shouts, trying to get a sense of what was going on and how he could fix it.

“Sir, four minutes to impact!” a Sangheili called out to him. Things weren’t looking good.

Rolland was about to respond when the ship shook once more. It felt like the ship took a somersault as several bodies in the CIC were tossed around. Rolland landed with a thud against a door, which now served as a floor. All the screens on the consoles went black.

“Let’s go, get those consoles online!” Rolland barked as he stood up. The ship began to steady out and the crew struggled to pull themselves back to their workstations. Rolland himself was already sitting at a chair, strapped in as soon as he could, and desperately attempted to bring it online.

“Sir, what can—” these last words to Rolland were cut short as the entire ship felt a massive impact. He felt the chair he was strapped to ripped straight from the bolts which held it to the floor, and thrown across…somewhere. A series of flashes and waves of heat hit Rolland from all sides, and he struggled to free himself from the seat straps. Just as he did, a powerful explosion threw him several dozen yards, straight onto his face.

[SPARTAN-A120]

Lieutenant Richard A. Chen
UNSCN-ONI Section III SPARTAN-IV, “Panther”
Aboard ONI Prowler: UNSCS Simple Man, Armory
Unknown Space
"At the blink of an eye..."

The Lieutenant was in the process of reassembling his BR58 Battle Rifle in the small armory after a simple field strip and clean when the ONI Prowler had jolted as if it was caught in turbulence. But turbulence rarely occurred in space flight and he assumed something was messing with the ship’s electronics and engines. If they had run into another planet like the had UNSCS Infinity faced, they were in for a wild ride.

Chen was able to close the upper receiver with the lower receiver and engage the locking pins before the ship had shook again with a violent intensity and the lights and electronics around him had gone dark. He immediately activated his night vision module that was attached to his helmet and turned on his helmet’s flashlight to enhance the visibility for other crew members. When he spotted the Petty Officer First Class who was behind the counter of the armory and trying to hold on for dear life, he asked, “Sailor! What's going on?”

“I don't know, sir! I've lost all contact with the bridge and it seems like the rest of the ship’s comms are down, too!” yelled the Petty Officer.

“Hang tight,” Chen replied with irony as the Petty Officer was already doing so.

Chen secured his BR58 by attaching it to his magnetic back plate of his GEN2 Infiltrator MJOLNIR Armor variant and tried contacting the members that was part of the Joint Special Operations team. He opened the secure channel and said, “All units on this channel, this is Panther. Report status! What the hell is going on?”

As he waited for a reply, the Prowler began to tumble and what felt like a continuous rotation of barrel rolls which cause any unsecured items to he tossed around. Before the SPARTAN IV ended up like a wrecking ball in the armory, he activated his magnetized boots and it locked him to the floor, but it didn't work out as well as he hoped as he felt the ship’ rotational movements more precisely than before. He heard a cry of a distressed Petty Officer who was once behind the counter, but was now thrashing about in the back of the armory.

The Lieutenant instinctively propelled himself towards the Petty Officer with his suit’s thrusters and took a hold of the man’s wrist. After doing so, he attached his boots to the back wall of the armory and struggle to strap the sailor into one of the two seats that was set up for crash landings and bumpy rides. A light object flew into Chen's right shoulder, but it glanced off harmlessly into another direction and Chen didn’t care. After a few seconds of securing the Petty Officer to the chair, his HUD picked up an incoming object from his 11 o’clock. With his left hand, he struck the incoming object which was later revealed as an ammunition container when he it came closer into view.

The ammunition container was too slow to activate his energy shields, but instead, it created a visible metallic silver scratch on the outer piece of his matte black gauntlet. He was lucky he didn't use his inner arm or it would've damaged his inner-wristed mounted TAC-PAD.

“Th- t- thanks,” the Petty Officer muttered with obvious fear in his facial expression.

After a few minutes of trying to protect the sailor from incoming objects, the Petty Officer commented, “It's getting pretty hot in here.”

This caused Chen to bring up the ambient temperature reading on his HUD. 124 degrees fahrenheit and rising. The ship might be entering orbit at the moment and the ship’s temperature control was disengaged because of the systems failure. With that said, the Petty Officer had a small chance of surviving the crash, but not with injuries. The Lieutenant tried his best to provide the sailor with as much protection as possible which included a fire retardant balaclava, a modular helmet, and a pair of gloves that were found flying about in the room.

“Control your breathing and stay calm. You’ll make it,” Chen lied. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but it did raise the morale of the sailor slightly.

“Thank you, sir,” the Petty Officer replied.

At the blink of an eye, everything went South as the ship landed hard and Chen's boot lost their strength to keep him attached to the wall. He was tossed to the left wall full of weapon racks and was positively sure he had damaged a few before being tossed back to the right where he damaged a few more weapon racks and was knocked unconscious.

[Trooper]

Lak Viska
ONI Section III Sangheili, “Inquisitor”
Aboard UNSC Simple Man, Viska storage room
Old grudges...

Lak Viska relaxed as she removed her specialized Ultra's helmet. Her personal quarters, a repurposed storage room being her only refuge to do so. A special device inside released an infusion of gases that the Alien could breath without the assistance of her helmet. Being that she couldn't breathe elsewhere, she also ate in the privacy of her quarters, as to not asphyxiate in front of the others aboard the prowler. She sat down into a chair, as she began eating she heard the hushed growl of Mercelus standing outside. Suddenly her door opened revealing the armored Jiralhanea and a human in a black suit.

Lak covered her mandibles and ushered the human in. Mercelus nodded as the human entered and the deal resealed the room. Lak gave it a moment for the air to refill, before removing her hand.

"Greetings Sergeant Gregor, what brings you to my quarters?" The former inquisitor inquired.

"It's the science group, they complained about you leaving the mess. They claim you still have a grudge against them for asking about studying you. I was told to ask you about what to do." The man explained.

"Tell them I bare no grudge, but I do remain weary of them. I simply cannot eat in the 'Mess'. I'm sensitive about people looking at my mandibles whilst I eat. Hence why my companion is stationed outside." Lak lied not wanting to admit to her own true weakness.

"I'll pass ..." The man began as the ship shook. The man falling into the floor. Lak only remaining in the chair by holding on tightly, but her helmet and food skittered across the floor. Lak rose and went to the human to help him stand. As she reached down the ship shook once more this time more violently. Lak and the human rolled about the room until for a moment it seemed still again. The Sangheili grabbed the human's wrist as the emergency light came on. She burst from her room her helmet forgotten. She roared down the corridor, Mercelus a stride behind. They reach an escape pod, and began loading in, but Lak realized quickly the pod wasn't working. The ship began shaking more rapidly as Lak began to Asphyxiate. She grabbed Mercelus' forearm and looked into his face.

"My helmet is in my room." She stated. The Jiralhanea nodded and began to move back into the corridor as his helmets communication uplink sounded.

"All units on this channel, this is Panther. Report status! What the hell is going on?"

"Panther, this is Tank, Inquisitor and I are unsure what is going on. I am fine, but Inquisitor it currently unable to breath, I'm going after her helmet. Call back if the situation changes." Mercelus responded, before erupting back into the corridor.

"Did he just say you couldn't breathe?" Asked the Sergeant.

"Clan Viskar cannot breath like normal Sangheili." She responded gasping between each quiet word.

"Well it's time for you to pay up then. Now that that stupid Ape is gone." The human said as his face filled the Swordswoman's vision. His hands found purchase around her heck and soon her breathing became harder as he pressured her throat.her vision began to go blurry as the weight of the human's hands were removed from her throat. She watched as her partner tore into the human, killing him before returning to his friends side. He put her helmet on as she passed out from lack of breathable air. She wouldn't see the ship crash, but Mercelus would remain by her side.

[Faclan]

(Sorry for the wait.)

Qep Hul - Ruu'Shan Mechanic
Joint OP vessel Simple man Engine room
Aecor have mercy on this vessel!

Sighing to himself as he did another 'mandatory' check on the ships systems Qep glanced around at the other people stuffed down into the engine room with him. All other Humans - him being the only 'alien' down here. He really didn't know how to feel about all of this. Besides the frankly silly amount of checks they needed to do on these systems. It was nearly three times as many as they needed to do on a Kig-Yar vessel for Aecor's sake! Engines were tough things and weren't going to just suddenly blow up. But also about how he was the only alien he had seen so far on this vessel besides one or two Sangheili on the bridge. It kind of felt like he was just taken on to fill some requirement they needed and not because they actually needed him for anything. The Humans and their little AI people probably had this all under control before his datapad had even finished loading the report.

Not that he had much choice in the matter. It was either accept the black uniformed Humans assignment or be stuck on that station and forced to do some terrible job just for a bite of bread. At least he was doing something he knew here and not having to try to fake it in a field he was fully new in. It was just a bit weird and unnerving that a pretty much Human crew took on a random Kig-Yar to not only just be a passenger but also someone close to pretty vital systems - like engine and power.

Either end end of the war really did change peoples outlooks or there was something sinister about.

"Is no problim steel." Qep cheeped out to the head Engineer after he clarified it on his datapad. Still getting the hang of their language. But just as the head honcho was replying to him the Engines made a very poor sounding groan and the lights dimmed. Qep snapping his beak back to the Datapad to see that it was blank. No warning message no nothing. And that was enough for him to drop the pad and bolt for the door. He had no idea what was happening, but the standard Kig-Yar practice in a sudden and bad sounding readout failure was to vacate the room in case of explosion or sudden hull breach. The boss didn't seem to think so however as Qep sprinted past him, "Ey! Get back here chick."

Was as far as he got before the entire ship lurched to the side. Tossing everyone to the ground that wern't seated. Nearly all the mechanic and maintenance staff as well. Qep had managed to reach the doorway and squawked in pain as he was thrown into the side of the hallway leading out of the engine room. That was more than enough to prove he had been correct so it was time to run!

Doing his best to scramble to his feet and support himself on the wall Qep quickly made his way to the little side room that was thankfully near-by where you could strap yourself in in case of situations like this. But another hard toss sent him sailing past the room as he reached out his claws for it.

Well sink it all.

Awking and sliding a bit the Kig tried to dig in his claws to stop himself from going too far as the room of safety was quickly slipping away. But the smooth metal floor would offer no help there. So instead he glanced back to see where he was sliding, and saw himself going right toward a small cleaning closet. Great. Doing his best to brace himself for the impact he slammed into the shelving unit and screamed in pain when he felt something crack in his foot he used to try and break his fall. Curling up and clutching it as he slid beneath the shelf just as the final jolt slammed his head against the shelf above him and made everything go black.


When found it would likely just be a hand stuck out from ender the shelf, still alive but hurt pretty good from whatever the hell happened to the vessel.

[LaxKnight]

SCPO Serenity-025
ONI Section III SPARTAN II, “Shadow”
Aboard ONI Prowler UNSC Simple Man, Quarters
A Little R&R

The room was...spartan. It was small, big enough for a bed with a sink, a shower, and a toilet behind a plastic door all in the same space. Thankfully the bed was large and sturdy enough for a SPARTAN. However with armor on, it wasn’t something Serenity wanted to test. She simply sat on the floor, helmet off, staring at the ceiling as she daydreamed. She wasn’t officially assigned to this vessel, they only picked up from her latest mission to be sent off on another one. Very few people knew she was even here. Only the Captain, the ship’s AI, a few random crew members that saw her when she boarded, and the ONI security guard that gave her food everyday know of her presence. Not even the other SPARTANs. Her handler liked to play things close to their chest. Her orders to make as little contact with others on this ship as possible, doing so only when necessary. So here she was, confined to her quarters until their next port. She has broken down, cleaned, and reassembled her SMGs and silenced Battle Rifle several times to the point of compulsive and now she had nothing else to do but sit with her thoughts and sleep.

Serenity was running through a hallway. She wasn’t sure why or where but she knew that she needed to get to the door at the end. She reached it, opened it and was instantly horrified at what was inside. Blood was on the walls of the otherwise pristine white walls of the medical bay. A man in a lab coat stood with his back to her but it was what was on the operating tables that horrified her. There was Roxanne, her body looking deflated for her muscles exploded during the augmentation process, and Mitchell, his body looking perfect for his heart simply stopped. Hearing her enter, the scientist turned to face her. It was Dr. Joseph Bail, the rogue ONI scientist she had to eliminate a few missions back. She didn’t know how he was still alive for she watched a bullet go through his skull but she had to fight him off to save the closest things she had to family.

Serenity lunged forward but found that her arm was too short, it was a teenager’s arm. No matter, she will fight on. However he was too quick, too strong, and easily overpowered her. He kicked her to the ground and stepped on her chest, pinning her to the ground.

“Why couldn’t you save us?” the chilling sound of Mitchell’s voice said.
“Why did you leave us to die?” the otherworldly words coming from Roxanne’s lips.

“No! NOOO!” she screamed as the scientist brought a syringe toward her, laughing maniacally.

Klaxons.

The sound of alarms woke Serenity from her nightmare. The room was shaking and the few things that weren’t bolted down were scattered on the ground. She quickly put on her helmet, waiting for it to boot to figure out what was going on. Information scrolled on her HUD and it became clear what was wrong. They were crashing, why was unknown but they were diving to the planet below.

She quickly got into fetal position with her back against the wall. “Activate mag-boots,” she ordered her suit, “Raise shields to maximum. Initiate armor lockdown protocol.”

She felt her body go rigid as her suit pressurized and her joints locked up. Now all she can do was wait for disaster to hit. So much for R&R, she thought sourly.

[Shiloh]

Capt. Rolland Knight, UNSCMC
Special Activities Team “Joker Seven”
Unknown Planet Surface

Rolland began to push himself up from the ground--the ground.

He hadn't quite processed the sequence of the CIC's bulkheads being torn apart, and his own armored self being thrown onto the surface of this planet. That was all a part of a fiery blur, even for his augmented perception. But he remembered that general chain of events: shaking, explosion, flying through the air and out a hole where a bulkhead had formerly been, and landing hard on the muddy ground after a fall that thankfully wasn't any higher.

Rolland rose to a single knee, looking around him at the burning wreckage as he stood up and drew his M7. He scanned the debris as quickly as he could: slabs of metal that had been the decks of the Simple Man, a destroyed console that probably came from the CIC, and, worst of all, several bodies that his scanners immediately registered as dead. Burnt to death, impaled on a fragmented beam; Rolland couldn't immediately spot any other survivors, but he didn't know over how much area the wreckage sprawled.

"This is Captain Knight broadcasting on emergency channel," he said calmly over his radio, "Does anyone copy? Over." He didn't want to admit to himself his fear that there wouldn't be an answer because there was no one to answer.

Leveling his M7, Rolland surveyed his surroundings cautiously. Beyond and amongst the scraps of metal, he could see that he was in the midst of some massive trees. The mud crusting his boots was a fiery reddish color; whether this was natural or a result of the fiery crash, Rolland wasn't sure. The same could be said of the smoke--mist?--rolling around the site, obscuring much of Rolland's vision. He had no idea what to expect from the air; where this information should have been displayed in his HUD, he saw nothing but a dashed line.

Stepping forward cautiously, Rolland continued to scan the area with his M7. He noticed a lack of activity on his motion tracker, even from his own movement. I guess that's jacked up too, he mused glumly.

He switched his channel to broadcast directly to Joker Seven, the team that would have made surface contact to gather information on the planet anyways. "Joker Seven, does anybody copy?" he felt that his voice might sound less calm now. "It looks like we've just raised the stakes on this expedition."

[LaxKnight]

SCPO Serenity-025
ONI Section III SPARTAN II, “Shadow”
Aboard ONI Prowler UNSC Simple Man, Quarters
Happy Landing

Things bounced around in the room as she felt become really hot then there was a sudden crash. Even with her mag boots she was thrown against the bulkhead. Thankfully her shields took the brunt of it but she left a nice dent in the bulkhead and it hurt. She bounced only a little bit afterward but nothing else happened. She waited for a few minutes, watching as the temperature dropped, before she decided the ride was over. “Disengage lockdown code X-ray November Nine Seven Bravo,” she said. She heard a confirmation beep and then felt pressure being relieved off her. Her joints were stiff from it and began trying to loosen them up, testing for injuries. While her left side felt bruised and her body ached all over, overall she felt fine. Once she determined she was okay, she figured that in this scenario she should run through her personal survival steps.

Step 1: Find a weapon

Serenity looked at the three weapons she had with her before the crash. One of her SMGs was simply busted while the scope on her silenced Battle Rifle was cracked however her last M7S was still in good condition. She took the Red Dot sight off the broken SMG and replaced the broken Battle Rifle scope with it. She made sure their mags were loaded and inserted before she slung the Battle Rifle on her back and hefted the M7S.

Step 2: Gather supplies whenever on the move

She made sure her extra mags were secured before she searched the room. Besides a bag, there was nothing else that was necessarily useful for this situation. She will undoubtedly find more as she explored the ship.

Step 3: Find known allies and safe spot(s)

Step 3.5: Find, secure, and if necessary destroy any AI

The half step was something she added herself. While the original intentions of the Cole Protocol were now void, an AI was is a extremely valuable asset and in the right, or wrong, hands can drastically increase one’s survival odds. Serenity knew the ship had an AI, one that insisted being called Dr. Smith, and she had to know if it survived. Serenity was also quite sure she wasn’t the only one who survived, especially given there was at least one SPARTAN on board, the question was how many and how many were still friendly? Answers she will need to get sooner rather than later.

She approached the door to find it was offline. Thankfully there was a manual control and she opened it. She checked both sides of the hallway with M7S at the ready before stepping out. She had no idea what brought this spacecraft down but it definitely wasn’t friendly. It could be swarming the ship even now trying to do the same thing she was. She found that the hallway was relatively empty except for some small scattered junk laying around. Knowing that the AI would most likely be on the bridge, she checked the map on her HUD and made a left. She cautiously ‘pied’ every open door as she went, making sure there were no ambushes or extra supplies.

"This is Captain Knight broadcasting on emergency channel. Does anyone copy? Over."


Serenity didn’t pause when she got heard the call. She had to make progress to the bridge but it was good to know another made it alive. She made a clicking sound with her teeth before replying, “Captain Knight, this is Shadow over an encrypted channel. Moving to find status of ship’s AI. Relay if any additional survivors or contact with hostiles. Over.”

She reached door at the end of the hallway. There laid a body of a ONI security guard. Her HUD labeled him as KIA and his IFF identified him as Jones, Mark P. Mark Jones, the man who gave Serenity her food while here. He had a loving wife and two daughters at his home on the newly colonized Reach. He was a refugee from there and joined ONI as a security guard shortly after escaping. He had a metal beam sticking out of his chest. She knelt down, bowed her head, and said, “May your soul rest in peace.”

Serenity wasn’t a religious person but she believed in respecting the dead. She reached for his neck and collected his dogtag before checking him for any useful supplies, just some more ammo for her SMG and a flashlight. He would be the first of many. One more souls she couldn’t save, one more being to haunt her nightmares.

She got to the door and opened it to find a hallway going from her left to right and a door ahead of her. She reached the door to find that it didn’t want to open. Using her SPARTAN strength, she pulled it apart just enough to see that on the other side it was filled with rubble. She let go, slightly frustrated by the wasted effort. Consulting her map, she found that the best detour was to go through the engine bay. She went left down the hallway. She passed several doors and closets, finding very little in the way of ammo and food. Not like she would expect much heading toward the engines.

She reached a T-section when she spied a open closet. She cautiously ‘pied’ it and found something unusual. There was a hand underneath one of the collapsed shelves but not just a normal hand. A Jackal hand. Serenity knew there were some aliens on the ship but finding one down here was unexpected. Since aliens don’t have a neural implant, she couldn’t tell if it was dead or alive. The old fashioned way then. Keeping her silenced SMG at the ready with one hand, she knelt down and put two armored fingers on its wrist, trying to check for a pulse. A reading on her HUD told her there was one. It was alive. She cleared some of the rubble one handed, being cautious not to disturb anything to fall on it, and discovered that underneath was some strange Kig-Yar hybrid. It was male, battered, and from the position of some of his limbs had some broken bones.

Not quite sure what the best way to wake him up was, she prodded his hand with her foot. “Hey, wake up! Friendly!” her voice came through her helmet speaker. If he woke up he would find a black armored SPARTAN, a true Daemon from the Human-Covenant War for she wore the Mark VI GEN 2 armor. There were no other distinguishing marks besides two stripes on her upper left arm, a orange and a gold one.

(Said I would play the AI. Will do next post or if someone interacts with them)

[Faclan]

Qep Hul - Ruu'Shan Mechanic
Joint OP vessel Simple man belly
*Thunk*

It wasn't a nice blunt trama induced dream. He was back at home but it was only Mama there, shouting at Qep while chasing him around the nest grounds. No other citizens of guards, just him and her.

"Failure! You are only a failure and soon it will strand you or make you some Captains bitch! No-one will save you from your lies and fucks ups!"

Needless to say it wasn't enjoyable for anyone as dream Qep just kept running, but he could never outrun the voice. Or outrun the fear that she was right. That he really was doomed now so far from Home that it was only a matter of time until her words became reality.

But the dream finally started to get hazy as a new voice broke through the screaming. Talking about friendship? But before he could fully comprehend what was being said his brain was instead full of pain. But the only outward sign of this would be the groaning Kig to curl up and flop a hand down to near his foot. But he finally seemed to be coming around as he made small cheeps about pain and what happened? In the Kiggle language but translators were probably all over now.

That was until he seemed to wake up enough to look up and see what was above him. Staring down at him. In all black. The boy barely looking at the huge dark metal murder machine with its glowing orange eyes before he made a little whimper and seemed to pass out again. Probably from still being injured and recovering from the head smack and general injuries but fear probably a big part of that too.

[SPARTAN-A120]

Lieutenant Richard A. Chen
UNSCN-ONI Section III SPARTAN-IV, “Panther”
ONI Prowler: UNSCS Simple Man Wreck
Unknown Planet, Unknown Space
"Aircraft is FUBAR"
(Tags: Shiloh , LaxKnight , Trooper , & Faclan )


Spartan Chen woke up to a voice coming through his helmet. It was unrecognizable at first as it sounded distorted and faint. There was also a blurred line of text at the bottom of his HUD that he couldn't read because he was still dazed. He realized he was flat on his back when he finally regained consciousness and awareness of what had occurred a moment ago. The air around him was filled with black smoke and he could smell ash and burnt metal even through the helmet’s filtration system was active. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move anything.

That was when a red exclamation mark with a triangular background appeared on his HUD which read

Warning! Armor Lock engaged.

“Disengage Armor Lock. Romeo Alpha Charlie Two Five Papa,” Chen said.

As soon as his armor loosened, he rolled onto his stomach and got into a kneeling position with his M6G drawn. He was too focused on scanning his surroundings that he didn't realized that the slide of his sidearm was damaged severely on its right side from his impact upon crash landing within the armory of the Prowler. His left hand went for the missing slide to chamber a round, but found it stuck in place; refusing to move rearwards. On top of that, the magazine was missing after a closer inspection of the weapon. He quickly tossed the disabled M6G and grabbed his BR58 that was on his back. He took cover behind a piece of metal and examined the weapon. When he found nothing of great concern besides a few sections of scraped paint and scratches, he got up out of the waist-high metal chunk and proceeded to scan his surroundings.

If it weren't for his MJOLNIR automatically engaging the Armor Lock mode for him, he would’ve been in critical condition. He felt some pain on the right side of his ribs and upper arm as he moved, but that was the least of his concern at the moment. He had to find any survivors and get away from the crash zone or anyone (or anything) within a 5 kilometer radius would be on top of them at any moment.

His rear was covered by two of the four walls that used to make up the armory so he walked backwards slowly in that direction so his backside wouldn't be too exposed as he gained his bearings and looked around for signs of life. The horizon was littered with trees and that covered the terrain beyond so an ambush or attack would be imminent and short ranged. He felt his right foot step on something soft instead of the solid dirt and patches of grass beneath him when he neared the remainder of what used to be the armory. When he looked down, he saw a dark ONI uniformed arm sticking out underneath a steel weapon rack. Chen quickly took his foot off the arm and placed the BR58 onto his back in order to lift the rack. Weighing roughly 60 pounds, the rack was easily removed from the top of the individual and the Lieutenant found the unfamiliar face of the Petty Officer he tried to save. The young ONI gunsmith’s face was burnt beyond recognition with hints of brown and burgundy scattered throughout the face which was once blood. He gave the body a once-over as the IFF tag gave off a grey text that said, “PO1. Taylor, Byron <Deceased>"

“Fair winds and following seas, brother,” the SPARTAN IV said quietly before he relieved the dead Petty Officer of his dog tags and then his M6G that was holstered in a hip holster.

After the dog tags were secured into a small utility pouch on his battle belt, Chen released the magazine from the M6G and held it with his palm and his middle, ring, and pinky finger while he racked the slide of the firearm to make sure the pistol was functioning properly. There was a round that ejected out of the chamber, but the SPARTAN IV’s left hand and reflexes caught the round at the peak of its trajectory before gravity had done its job.

He managed to hear the next message that was being transmitted on the E-Band which the familiar voice said, “Joker Seven, does anyone copy? It looks like we've just raised the stakes on this expedition.”

Chen had finally placed a face with the voice that came through his communications. It was Captain Knight, the team leader of the Joint Task Force.

“Panther here. If you're talking about Blackjack, I'm all in,” Chen replied on a separate secure channel like a smartass.

The Lieutenant switched over to the Task Force frequency and said, “Panther to all survivors, I'll set up an overwatch position on the tallest hill at heading 314 degrees of the wreck. That's our rally point. Break. If someone could secure the AI on the Bridge, that'll be a good start. Break. There's an assortment of weaponry at my current POS. NAV Marker placed. Break. We have to get out of here ASAP. How copy? Over.”

After his transmission, Chen gathered a few extra magazines for his weapons and attached a satchel filled with two C12 Explosive Charges onto his lower back just above his backup knife. When he was finished gathering what he needed, he traversed through the thick forest while activating his suit’s active camouflage module.

[Trooper]

Lak Viska
UNSCN-ONI Section III Sangheili, “Inquisitor”
ONI Prowler: UNSCS Simple Man crash site.
Unknown Space
Escaping the dead

Lak groaned as she sat up within the escape pod. Her whole being ached, but she was alive, and breathing. For a moment her hands shot to her head to check how she was able to breath. She sighed with relief when she felt the battle worn helmet on her head. She attempted to ignite her night vision, as to see within the confines of her escape pod. It stapled and flashed for a moment, before her combat harness warned her that it had been damaged.

"Lak are you awake?" Came a deep familiar voice.

"Mercelus, I am alive thanks to you. I can't see right now however, please stay back I shall ignite my blade." The Sangheili warned. She knew well Mercelus was clear as she grabbed the sword from her hip. The blade ignites its red sides casting the room into an offset red. Lak looked to the end where she could see the mangled body of the human that had tried to take her life during the crash. It wasn't a pretty site even for the inquisitor. She turned to the left to find her companion standing near the door, that was when she noted that the chairs were on the wall rather then the floor.

"I need your help to get out, Lak." Said the stronger Jiralhanea. Lak rose her sword still active as she walked calmly toward the door. She noted that Mercelus no longer wire his helmet, but she found in next to the door, its visor cracked and broken. The Jiralhanea put her hands into a small pocket and began to pull trying to pry the door open. Lak deactivated the sword and placed back in its home. Then she placed her reptilian hands over the Jiralhanea and the two easily moved the door back it was large enough to slip through, and the rest of the ship still had power. Lak went first, her energy shield would've been able to hold back some of the damage should they be ambushed.

"Come through Mercelus, we can make plans in the corridor." Lak said as she peered back in, her long neck easily letting her head in. She leaned against the wall as she checked herself for any permanent damage. She did realize that she had no form of weapon besides her sword. We'll need to go to the armory to get weapons. Lak thought to herself as Mercelus squeezed his huge bulky body through the doorway.

"I believe our first task should be to retrieve at least a weapon. The human armory is our best bet.

Next we should look for the ships AI. It may be able to run a biological scan and find who or what else has survived the crash." Lak said, not consulting the former Captain. Mercelus nodded understanding what she meant, knowing she had not steered him wrong before.

"This is Captain Knight broadcasting on emergency channel," Came a call over the duo's battle uplink. "Does anyone copy? Over."

"Human, the Inquisitors copy. We're going to retrieve weapons from the armory. Meet us aboard the bridge, we'll be heading there afterwards." Lak called back hoping that it would understand who they were. The duo carried no rank since their departure from the Covenant. Lak looked back to Mercelus who nodded and together they began searching for the armory.

They walked the corridors knowing all too well at any point a panicked Marine could attack them, but none came. They stopped at a storage room, it had a covenant Symbol marked on it, the symbol for Inquisition.

Lak went inside to find that a marine had attempted to hide in the small room. He didn't survive the crash. Lak crouched next to him and used her two middle digits to close his eyes as she had seen Humans do for the dead.

"You should not have died like this, you should've died fighting not in some system failure." She murmured in her way of honoring the dead. She spotted the a dufflebag the human had next to him. After dumping it's contents onto the ground, the likes of which were cloths and books, Lak returned to her companion.


"Carry this" Lak ordered of the Jiralhanea. He obliged with a grunt, but knew the cloth bag weighted very little. They then resumed their journey toward the armory. More empty corridors met them as they went. They didn't check the rooms not caring for the what surprises might await them behind the doors. The Duo quickly realized however that the ship was in pieces. The armory they needed ripped right from the side. Mercelus groaned as Lak glared at the foilage where the armory should have been.

"We are going to die without weapons." Mercelus scoffed to himself. Lak knew what he meant, with only her sword and his aged brawn they didn't carry much of a defense against a long range attack.

“Panther to all survivors, I'll set up an overwatch position on the tallest hill at heading 314 degrees of the wreck. That's our rally point. Break. If someone could secure the AI on the Bridge, that'll be a good start. Break. There's an assortment of weaponry at my current POS. NAV Marker placed. Break. We have to get out of here ASAP. How copy? Over.” Came a new voice. That if the Spartan ONI had put on the team. Lak cursed herself for not being linked with the human. No beacon called to her, as she refused the upgrades that would've allowed her to do so.

"We are on the way, Panther Mercelus paged, and for once Lak realized that Mercelus didn't always need her instructions to do things with the human's.

"Come Lak, we must retrieve a weapon if we wish to survive." Mercelus said as the former Captain leaped from the corridor and onto the earthen soil below. He turned to wait and Lak jumped to meet him.

[Shiloh]

Capt. Rolland Knight, UNSCMC
Special Activities Team “Joker Seven”
Unknown Planet Surface

Rolland heard a flood of responses cutting into each other, making them out only by their text readouts at the bottom of his HUD:

<<<S.025[ENCRYPTED]...>>> CAPTAIN NIGHT THIS IS SHADOW OVER AN IN CRYPTED CHANNEL MOVING TWO FIGHT STATUS OF SHIPS AI RELAY IF ANY ADDITIONAL SURVIVORS OR CONTACT WITH HOSTILES

<<<S.CHEN[SECURE]...>>> PANTHER HERE IF YOUR TALKING ABOUT BLACK JACK A MALL IN

<<<E-INQ.LV[SECURE]...>>> HUMAN THE INK QUIZ WIZARDS COPY WE'RE GOING TWO RETRIEVE WEAPONS FROM THE ARMORY MEET US ABOARD THE BRIDGE WE'LL BEE HEADING THERE AFTERWARDS

<<<S.CHEN[TASK FORCE]...>>> PANTHER TWO ALL SURVIVORS I'LL SET UP AN OVERWATCH POSITION ON THE TALLEST HELL AT HEADING THREE ONE FOUR DEGREES OF THE WRECK THAT'S ARE RALLY POINT. IF SOMEONE COULD SECURE THE AI ON THE BRIDGE THAT ILL BE A GOOD START. THERE'S AN ASSORTMENT OF WEAPONRY AT MY CURRENT [POS]. NAV MARKER PLACED. WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE ASAP HOW COPY

One...two...three survivors for sure. And "the Inquisitors," plural, made that four. Not looking away from the trees he was scanning, he began to reply as he needed.

To Chen, simply: "Roger, over," as he inspected the waypoint for the crashed piece of armory his fellow Spartan had been on when they went down. According to his HUD, it was 450 meters northeast, the direction he was already heading.

He then replied to the secure link with the Elite Viska, silently thanking God that he had inspected the new arrivals as thoroughly as he did, or even recognized who they were: "Viska, this is Knight, I copy. If I recall correctly, you're not in the general uplink." Realizing how that sounded, he hastily added, "I was running INTEL...The point is, I can transmit Panther's waypoint to you." 350 meters. Fiddling at his helmet with his left hand while maintaining aim with his M7 with his right, he added "How many are with you? Over."

300 meters. Finally responding to Shadow, Rolland warned her, "Six confirmed survivors: you, me, two sierras and two charlies. Proceed towards bridge but maintain contact. If you exceed 1000 meters"--250 meters--"from Panther's waypoint, radio in so we know the sprawl of the crash. Over."

200 meters. Rolland mused over how badly he needed a rifle right now, then felt relieved he at least had his M7. Broadcasting to the task force, he issued a basic sitrep: "All units, six confirmed survivors: four sierras and two charlies. If you copy, respond. Rally on--AAAAARGH"

His broadcast cut off suddenly as a hulking shape pounced out of the mist at him. No heat signature, nothing on his motion tracker--was it broken?--nothing.

No time to think about that.

Holding the thing at arms length with his left hand, Rolland managed to shout "HOSTILE CONTACT!" into the comm channel that, luckily, was still open. He pressed the silencer on his M7 into the thing's ribcage, or at least where ribs should be. Pulling the trigger without hesitation, Rolland observed the thing as best as he could. He discharged only a short burst, causing the creature to emit a high-pitched yelp, before a powerful hind leg kicked at his arm, sending the M7 skidding several feet across the ground.

The beast was covered in leathery red skin that appeared hairless and wrinkled. Rolland couldn't make out any discernible eye structures on its snarling face--only a gaping mouth split into three teeth lined sections, which were snapping as close as they could get to his head. A long forked tongue lashed out at his visor in between snaps.

Taking a deep breath, his left arm still holding back the creature's head, Rolland groped for the combat knife strapped to his chest with his right hand, now void of a weapon.