The Resistance (Open)

[MrKill]

Sergeant Kyle Adera
Aboard the Avenger
12, 000 FT, cloud cover

Sergeant Kyle Adera stood straight, looking down towards the distant city center, and observed the smoke and spreading fires. He had his hand over his mouth, brushing the mustache that had grown in the last month and a half with his thumb and pointer finger. He knew that down below the fighting persisted, but he had nearly no ideas how to help them. His company had been routed, the only survivors he knew of aboard the floating freighter, but there were other units that may have survived.

'We have to strike something,' Adera thought. 'But what do we do, and how do we do it? That city, maybe the fighting will give us our answers.'

The Sergeant moved away from the window, if there was a target, he would find one they could use. The holographic map in the corner of the bridge would be extremely helpful, it was displaying real time information from the Avenger's exterior camera network. Adera zoomed in on the fighting he had seen earlier, he wanted to gather any actionable intelligence he could, maybe there was a target they could hit to help the local resistances that were beginning to form.

"Would you look at that," Adera stated, he was surprised by the image he was watching. He zoomed the holographic table in even further, almost the maximum resolution it could get from the external optics, but it was clear enough. "I'm surprised they're still operational after all this time!"

He had found his target.

"Guys," he said over the radio. "Get to the bridge, I got something to show you. You're not going to believe it!"

[Remnant]

Private Daniel Gusman
Avenger Bridge
Somewhere above the clouds

"I'm just saying, the last time someone said 'You're not going to believe it', I wound up believing it. Like who says that anymore?" Private Gusman mused, chatting with one of his buddies in the armory aboard the Avenger.

"Yeah? What'd you believe?" Private Heimsfeld arched one of his eyebrows.

"That's not the point. You get what I'm saying." Gusman replied.

"No, I really, really don't. In any case, let's get to the bridge before the boss gets antsy." Heimsfeld said, putting his weapon in the low-ready and exiting the armory.

Gusman followed suit, doing a functions check on his assault rifle before moving out. He followed Heimsfeld into a corridor and then up a flight of ladders. Within minutes they were standing on the bridge before a large holographic interface.

"Woah!" Heimsfeld suddenly let out.

"I don't fuckin' believe it." Gusman replied, awed.

[Huka]

Sangheili Obedienciary Soka 'Nratan
Aboard the Avenger 

Soka 'Nratan sat in his quarters, low on his knees in the silent meditation of prayer. Breathes coming in soft and exhales singularly. The aggression in his veins burning, demanding to be free...centering by his silent psalms of war and the spirits of his fallen. There was almost a clarity behind the fury. The disgrace of it all. He could almost see his enemy.

Only for the cultivated center to break it at the sound of the ship-wide comms crackling for all to hear. The human officer had found something of note. With a snort, the scarred veteran lifted himself up with a pop of joints and made unceremonious swiftness to reclaim his combat harness. Even among 'allies', it wasn't comfortable nor professional without one's wargear in ready condition at a moment's notice. 

The Obedienciary appeared in moment to the bridge, shifting through the ugly Human aesthetics that served as the Avenger's innards before the large creature appeared among the shorter aliens. His free hand instinctively clenching and relaxing for a weapon that wasn't there - out of respectful habit to the Humans and their vessel. Their culture had an aversion of weapons on their person from his ossoona studies. Firearms were of little concern to Soka anyway. Serpentine yellow eyes looked for the corner projector, "What have you found?" His rough, accented human bridge tongue came out from the careful working of his mandibles and throat muscles. It was uncomfortable to use, despising that his translator was experiencing repairs. 

To the humans' eyes, Soka looked almost no different from the many Sangheili with the excepting for the variant of his dark maroon combat armour appearing more plated and tactical with a defined under-armour and gorget protecting his thick neck.  Not as attention grabbing yet distinctive in that Covenant way with an etched scripture detailing his breastplate. A lone survivor on an attack to the lance that made it on the planet, the veteran had little hesitation to join the group for a chance to end his unit's murderers one way or another. Hopefully he can find other members of his creche scattered on the world, no doubt still fighting. By the Gods' grace...