Mission 2: Intermission

[elando]

((OOC: Feel free to roleplay here while the 2nd part of the mission is on its way. This is a reletively calm time when the Covenant have evac'd the crater and retreated and the UNSC are left to their own devices as the AC is unable to move due to having 3 MAC cannons aimed right at it and the Covenant ground forces have yet to regroup for a counter attack.

So pull up a Grunt carcas, shoot some engineers and have a general chat while you wait for the fireworks to arrive...))

[Dutch]

Well can you believe it? He was alive. Corporal Jonathan Fisher couldn’t believe it, but he was happy. He was alive. He wasn’t a hero but he was alive. He had no intention of being a hero and for a very good reason. Why? Because most heroes wound up either dead, or scared for life, or lost in deep space somewhere. So he was perfectly content to hide and stay alive. So now he was sitting down on an overturned covenant supply crate which had been recently stripped of its plasma grenades by the other soldiers, himself included. He had a cleaning kit out and was carefully going over his weapons, inch by inch. When he had stopped, he had found out that his magnum’s barrel was actually partially blocked with mud; this had caused him to pull out his cleaning stuff in the first place.

There, pistol done. He carefully clipped to back onto his waist and started on the rifle. As he went over it, he thought about what was next to come. Reinforcements were inbound, and the next step was to jump up the grav-lift and take the AC. Of course the covenant had probably stockpiled a helluva lot of soldiers up there in wait for them. He bet the first twenty guys for sure were dead, maybe they could toss some plasma ‘nades up before them, tear up those aliens before it got real hot. Close quarters, it’d be hell up there. And all he had was a magnum and an assault rifle. No CQ guns. His eyes drifted towards the sword he’d obtained earlier on. He did have the sword, but no way. He’d be lucky not to cut his own leg off, much less actually stab an elite or something. Still, it was very good in the right hands. However his hands were not the right hands at all. He should just turn it in to someone who could either use it or actually knew what the hell to do with the dang thing. Yeah, that’d be the right thing to do. Standing up, he carefully set down the kit and slung his rifle over his shoulder. Grabbing the sword handle, he looked around for the CO. There, Captain Hallam. He’d be the right guy to give it to. He started over to the Captain, sword handle in hand. Then, halfway there, he accidently tripped over and obstructed rock, and fell. No problem, it would have been no problem at all. If it hadn’t been for his hand which automatically clenched, and pressed down on the swords activation mechanism.

Twin prongs of blazing plasma flared to life in seeming anger, and stabbed clear through his leg. As Fisher saw what had happened, het let out a yell which turned into a scream.

“Medic!” in a near panicked state, he fumbled around for the handle, trying to deactivate it. Then he froze, he dare not move, lest he risk cutting his leg off. With terror in his eyes, he looked at the wound. One of the prongs had stabbed into his right calf, burning a one inch semi-circle into it. At this time, his brain fully took in the pain of what was happening to him, and a wild scream ripped from his throat as he felt the burning agony! It felt like someone was pressing a rod of white hot steel into his leg, which what was nearly happening. His body started to react, flailing around, trying to escape the pain. Relief! The blade slid out of the wound, taking away the source of the pain with it. But his nerve endings still screamed at his brain, shrieking out a message of horrible pain, a scream which carried out of Fishers mouth, mixed with his pleadings for a medic.

“Medic!”

[Soulstep]

Corporal Andrew Deiran Indigo Squad The Crater

Andrew sat on one of the many dusty rocks in the crater, inspecting his weapons and his ammo count. Both guns were clean, but he was beginning to run low on clips, especailly for his assault rifle. Looking across the crater, he saw other soldiers from Alpha company clearing up the dead, and stripping the bodies of ammo and weapons. Andrew felt remorse as he thought of Ben's corpse, now being somewhere among that pile.

No, this wasn't time to mourn, not yet. After all, there was a Covenant carrier floating directly above his head.

The rest of Indigo squad, Sarah, Adam and Tom, were nearby, Adam helping with the cleanup, and Sarah and Tom checking their ammo count too. Andrew looked at them, and caught their eyes. He hesitated for a moment, before nodding his head in the direction of the scavenged ammo. They looked uncomfortable with the idea, just like he did, but there was still a battle coming up in a few minutes, and they had to be prepared to survive.

Looking into the sky as he stood, he could see glimpses of decending Pelicans, carrying Bravo and Charlie companies, as well as the explosives they needed to blow that grav lift door open. Returning his gaze to eye level, he walked off in the direction of the ammo stockpile, following Sarah and Tom.

[SuperCommando]

SPARTAN-009 (Silas)

Post-mission

Grav lift platform

It hadn’t been long before the remaining Covenant forces routed, leaving the UNSC in control of the crater. Silas stood guard on the lift platform as Joe-178 and Captain Hallam worked to gain entrance into the belly of the AC. He’d burned plenty of ammo in the assault – he was about to swap magazines, but just as he began to dig out his second mag an agonized cry rang out.

“Medic!”

Alert for danger, Silas crouched, head snapping sideways towards the source of the noise as he sighted down his GPMG. An ODST was on the ground with… what the hell… an energy sword sticking out of his leg? He hurried over to help, sweeping his weapon across the terrain in case there was an invisible Elite nearby.

“What happened?” The Spartan asked the wounded soldier, crouching defensively beside him.

[Dutch]

Fisher heard approaching footsteps, and then a concerned voice tinged with preperation for a fight. Craning his head to the side he saw, through the ragged agony, the masked face of a spartan. Fisher let out a gasp of pain, and forced words out of his mouth.

"I tripped, and this damn sword activated! Burnt right through my damn leg! No, there isn't a damn invisible elite, I just tripped and the-" His words were lost in a scream at another wave of the white hot pain.

[SuperCommando]

Well, at least there was no danger. Silas lowered his weapon. With the necessity to kill something alleviated, the Spartan was now left with this pain-stricken man on the ground. It went unspoken between the two soldiers of the strained relations between Spartans and ODSTs. Although Silas personally never held anything against the helljumpers, he still felt their contemptuous attitudes towards Spartans. He did not know if this man felt the same or not, but like it or not, he needed help.

Setting his weapon aside, Silas withdrew his can of biofoam and a wrap from a pouch of his tac harness. The offending blade was laying nearby, still hissing and crackling with energy. Gingerly taking by the hilt, he cautiously toyed with it until the twin blades safely disappeared, then placed it back on the ground, facing away. Turning his attention to the wound, he noted the wicked hole burnt straight through his armor into his calf. It did not bleed thanks to the cauterizing effect of the heat, but judging from the angle and placement of the wound, Silas could not tell if it sliced into the bone or just the muscle. It would be close. If the bone was cut, walking for this guy would be a nightmare – even more so than just with a severed calf muscle.

Silas gently held Fisher’s leg still with one hand and jabbed the fire extinguisher-like end of the biofoam canister into the hole with the other. He sprayed it full of the antibacterial, space-filling foam, and then wrapped it up just to prevent all the dust from getting in there. It was a temporary fix, but it would have to suffice until proper medical attention could be issued. Until then, this ODST was combat-ineffective and Silas told him so.

“This leg is bad, trooper. You’re out of the fight. There’s no way you’d be running around inside a Covenant ship if you’re not one-hundred percent. The Pelicans can take you back once they arrive. Where's your team?”

[monkeyjoe14]

Spartan 178 - Joe

Joe turned to the source of the scream and saw Silas with an ODST. There was also an enrgy blade but Silas was calm so no threat there. Joe turned back to Hallam.

"So sir, what did you have in mind for getting into the assault carrier", Joe asked.

"How about 20 tons on nuclear power like before", Churchill replied.

Honestly, Joe liked that idea.

ODST Sergeant Redsont

Redsont saw the injured ODST and heard his cries for a medic. He noticed that spartan 009 - Silas was treating the marine the best he could.

"John your with me" Redsont barked his team's medic.

Redsont and John ran over and John inspected the wound.

"Sir, I can patch him up and give him morphine but he isn't going to be seeing any action after this. Quite frankly, he's lucky his leg isn't completely cut off.", John told Redsont.

Redsont ignored John and focused his attantion on the ODST. He turned to Silas and nodded.

"Thanks for the help", Redsont said before turning to the ODST.

"What is your name, rank and sqaud trooper?", Redsont asked.

[Dutch]

Through the nearly blinding pain which was amplified by the effects of the biofoam, Fisher could hear the hulking spartan talking to him. He inforemd him that with a wound liek this, there was no way he would be participating in the battle. A fevered thought of relief dulled his anguish for a moment, thank god! He wouldn't be running around in a covenant vessel, maybe he'd live longer now. Then he heard the spartans voice, followed by another mans ask him for his name, rank and squad. He managed to regain his voice and answer.

"Corporal Jonathan Fisher, my squad is, or was Eagle squad, under the command of Gunnery Sergeant Michael Sollid. They're all dead, speared by an elite with a sword."

[nex]

Crash safely descended into the crater, as the last of the covenant were picked off. He'd missed the brunt of the firefight, but that wasn't what he was there for. A quick check over the terrain, saw no major threats, so he lowered his Carbine, and let it rest on the strap against his chest.

He watched as one of the Spartans began toying with the controls to the lift, before being joined with an ODST - His FoF tag marked him as Captain Hallam. They were having some discussion, but at a guess it would seem that the covenant had locked out the control system for the gravity lift.

He watched as marines began to scavenge ammo from their fallen comrades, before Crash realised he might have to do the same. He removed the half-empty ammo clip, and gently discarded it. He moved to the side of a fallen brute, its body pierced by over a clip of assualt rifle bullets. He grabbed a couple of the odd shaped clips for his carbine, putting the first in and checking it.

He got up; that would do for now. Any more would weigh him down. He probably wouldn't need any more than that, and he could probably find more on the bridge.

He paused stepping over a fallen jackal, before removing the energy shield gauntlet attached to its wrist.

A loud scream from a fallen marine. He looked up in time to see the twin prongs of an energy sword protrude from through the fallen man's legs.

A moment later a Spartan arrived at his side, followed shortly by a marine and a medic.

He followed at a short jog. He arrived, and picked up the handle of the energy sword and examined it.

[inhert]

Red Wing

The five active members of Red Wing wandered around the base of the Grav Lift structure. The excitement of the battle had dissipated about the same time Captain Hallam arrived at the Grav Lift. That was until the cry of medic from a Marine.

Red Wing, like majority of the Marines turned to see Silas pull an energy sword from the Marine’s leg.

“Youch” Yellow commented for the whole of Red Wing as he began to jog to the Marine. Approaching cluster of Marines Yellow noticed a straggler examining the energy sword handle. Dress in a lighter fit of Combat armor Yellow didn’t need the FoF to know who this was.

“Crash” It was not long ago that Steven ‘Crash’ Colsten and Rob ‘Yellow’ Yelenosky found themselves back to back battling Covenant and Rampant AIs on a UNSC ODP. Because of their shared technical abilities and elevated security clearance the two quickly bonded.

“Dig the Shinnies,” The comment was directed to the Covenant Carbine on Crash's back and the Energy Sword in his hand.

“I heard that an ONI tech would be boots-on-the-ground this mission. Glad to see it was you.” Yellow extended his hand in greeting to Crash, “Oh how’s Paula? Didn’t get a proper goodbye before I went planet side.” Paula Santa-Maria was a ONI tech who was Crash’s instructor turned colleague, and Yellow’s Girlfriend she was serving as a ONI advisor back on the Midnight Silence.

Super Six Four

“Super-Six-Four Proceed to Target Hades.” It was the first message that Rocco and the crew of Pelican Super-Six-Four received since the touched down on Lethe.

“Thank God” Courtney gasped as Rocco revved the engines and the Pelican lurched forth and joined the train heading to the location of the Assault Carrier. It was a short trip for the Pelican, and before the crew knew it they where taking a landing vector underneath the hulking carrier.

“Mummy, I want one!” Dave, the rear door gunner of Six-Four commented as the Pelican set down.

“You can have one, but I’ll take two.” Shelby quipped skipping down the rear ramp of the Pelican to receive the Marines making their way to the fleet of Landed Pelicans.

[maxii1]

Super Six Six
Captain Paul Nikon

Nikon had been one of the leading pelicans in the fleet which came laden with goodies for the soldiers; reinforcements, ammunition and supplies.
He piloted the craft alone, his co-pilot Lydia Gibson not on speaking terms with him anymore, it was difficult to talk to her, let alone fly a pelican with her.

He liked the solitary silence, it meant he could concentrate and think without the need to communicate.
“Super Six Six has reached the objective, Super Squadron be on the look out for any enemy both on and off the ground, that AC could be housing some Banshees” he warned as he landed the ship, putting on his sunglasses and brown leather jacket.

He started to unload his craft.

[masterchick]

Athena carefully inspected the land below them. She was being overly cautious, but after what had happened on her squad's last mission, everyone was a bit on edge. They were all sitting in their seats on a pelican, bristling uncomfortably, like they were just waiting for another bomb to go off.

"Calm down, Cyren. It's over." Corporal Jimmy Cross put a hand on her shoulder, making her freeze for a moment, and then relaxed, looking at the seat in back of her.

"Just making sure after what happened last time." She replied in a remorseful manner. Clearing his throat, he spoke in the most confident voice he could muster.

"We're all going to be more careful now. That was a freak accident anyway."

"I just don't think I could handle another failure like that... Not without winding up dead, at least"

"Don't talk like that. You're a good soldier and you're sure as hell gonna outrank me some day."

"Thought the brasses told you that you're getting to informal with your inferiors"

"Not like I'll be in the army long anyway." Athena was about to ask why, but a yell interrupted their conversation and Cross drew his hand away.

"Athena! What're you doing with this old bag?" Erik Carson threw his arm around her shoulder, scooting himself onto the side of her seat, and earning a slap in the face from Athena. She knew it wouldn't affect him since he had a helmet on, but it got the message across and he jerked his arm back. Cross shook his head and glared at her, but she matched his glare and then both looked back at Erik as he spoke.

"I'm talking to my commanding officer. What's wrong with you now?" She growled. Cross turned his back to them, going over to deal with Leo and Pyotr who had gotten into a heated argument.

"Just gettin' ready to kick some Covenant ass" Erik grinned at her.

"You're a moron, you know that? Why do you even bother talking to me, you know what I'll say."

"That I need to grow up? Yeah, I've heard that from plenty of people."

"Also that you need to learn how to shoot a gun."

"I can shoot a gun just fine!"

"Not without missing your target about a hundred times first."

"Now you're just messing with me." Erik's goofy grin returned.

"Only half."

"At least I--"

"I don't care, Erik." Athena crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, turning towards the wall. Already having been on edge from the upcoming fight, trading insults with Erik only made her angrier. She could hear him muttering to himself afterwards, who looked mortified, as usual. 'What a team...' She thought, and hoped that if someone were to get killed, it would be Erik.

[Deleted]

Major Domo Keta Dutolee

Keta gritted his mandibles. The Brutes failed, he would not. Keta adjusted his helmet, tightened the thoracic cage, and checked his Carbine. He advised Urgo and Trel to do the same, and to get their lances ready for combat.

Keta switched his attention to the rest of the Grav Lift room. Wounded infantry filled the room, their blood staining the floor reddish-purple and fluorescent blue. Most of the Elites and Grunts stood silently, purple light glinting off their armor as Brutes tended their packs.

Keta ordered them to remove the wounded before the next battle started, and watched the anger twist into their expressions as they dragged the wounded out of the room. Keta returned to his position, his patience wearing ever more thin.

[l3rute]

Sean stood in the cargo bay of the pelican looking at the desolate surface of the moon below him. Nothing his team couldn't handle. He had led Fire team Foxfire practically into hell on multiple occasions to get them out with barely any injuries except for maybe the small second degree burn from a passing plasma bolt. This would be a walk in the park.

He looked back at his team. Mike Santano, Ryan "Better" Thompson, Thomas Slovak, and Rizzo were all grouped together. Thomas seemed to be engaged in a debate with "Better". His arm motions told Sean that he was trying to get the point of "God" through Ryan's thick atheist skull. Sean opened SQUADCOM to his teammates.

"... and that is why there is a god." Thomas finished.

"That is complete bull Tom. There is a feeling that there is a god but there isn't any scientific proof!" Ryan replied.

Sean scowled. He hated the way Ryan talked about stuff like this. He looked over at the other marines that had hitched a ride in the pelican. There was one who seemed to be in an argument with another member of her squad about who knows what.

He returned to the open end of the pelican feeling the heat wash over him. It felt like he was in an HEV pod all over again. The heat was so hot that it felt like he was in hell. Hell, sweet hell. he thought looking at the open space. This was his type of combat area.

[Oresus]

Major Domo Nha 'Chavamee

With the Jiralhanae back on board, intruding on everyone else's precious personal space -what there was of it in these quarters - and making a terrible noise about it as well, Nha imagined that the smell in the grav-lift room was worse than ever. Of course, that could just spring from his Sangheili prejudice against the simian race, but he would never admit that.

He stood on the edge of the chamber, away from any fray that could develop but close enough that the Elite could enter it quickly should the urge cross his mind. The Lance was arrayed along the walls, each of the three comprising races behaving differently. His fellow Sangheili stood like sentinels, facing sternly towards the center of the room. The two Kig-Yar were in combat stances, guns at the ready for a vicious attack on any humans that might choose to launch an assault. The Unggoy sat together, with no visible nervousness or even awareness of the potential battle ahead. They gave off an aura of professionalism. A transparent aura to the experienced eye, 'Chavamee thought. One of his charges was fidgeting and the others were staring very hard at the indigo floor.

Looking at his comrades around the spacious chamber, Nha saw his observations reflected in the other Lances. The Elites set an example that the lesser races worked to match, while the Brutes tried to gain back some credit with their fellows by behaving even more savagely than usual. The few Mgalekgolo were as indecipherable as ever, standing as still as the Sangheili and with the same posture. But even if they didn't show it, everyone was on edge.

The Major observed the removal of the previous engagement's injured from the chamber, and grudgingly admired the Jiralhanae's apparent imperviousness to even the most brutally inflicted wounds. In contrast, the childish screams of Grunts were audible for a long time after they'd been carried, shrieking over their tiny abrasions, from the packed room. As the complaints grew quieter, Nha settled himself back into a relaxed position and patiently watched the lift.

Kig-Yar Sniper Jut

He almost pitied the diseased minds that had been burdened upon those fighting for the closest positions. All they were doing was bringing their inevitable deaths closer. Being somewhat more sensible - the Elites would have used a different word, he knew - Jut elected to remain behind a sizable Lance mainly composed of Sangheili and Kig-Yar - a defensive lance, in military terminology.

There was also another reason for his carefully selected spot - it was remote enough that idiotic Unggoy pre-battle conversations did not reach his sensitive ears. The marksman mimicked their inane boasts - "I'll kill 'em all if they come close to me!" "Naw, I'll have ripped them apart before they had the chance, Nirnap!" Looking left and right, he could see that his team had spread themselves out nicely, but not too far. Tes sat calmly on top of a compact lift generator, his Carbine resting itself on his lap. Behind Jut and to his right, Fes had dug himself against a protruding wall, weapon trained on the lift doors. Jut was acutely aware of a mysterious absence of Unggoy in or near Fes' line of fire. Behind his Sniper's headgear, the Kig-Yar allowed himself a silent chuckle.

He watched with interest the Jiralhanae, noting their sullen demeanor and tendency to snap at those nearby who broached the subject of recent events beneath the Pious Charity. In many ways Jut admired the heavily-built warriors; they were stronger and more flexible in battle than the Elites, willing to use enemy equipment when necessary and evidently aware of when it was time to retreat. A minute longer and their casualties might have been substantially higher.


Jiralhanae Minor Irbinus

In this section of the Charity it was gloomier than in the center. Probably because the power was being channeled into other areas for reasons that nobody cared about, except maybe the operators and Shri T'ova. The Pack had been assigned to guard the approaches to the hangar, and do that they would. Anyone who'd seen the Jiralhanae up close knew well their fanaticism and complete determination. They were immovable.

Irbinus, as a Brute Minor, was at the front of the Pack, leaning against a typical purple wall and starring glassy-eyed along the corridor. He wasn't being particularly vigilant, but the moment a Human was on board they would know about it with the help of the incredibly useful Battlenet. But Sussius had warned his Brutes not to take any chances, as they were all tired and some injured after the intense battle at the Human Colony discovered by the Sangheili Arbiter. Sussius himself had been concussed by a grenade, some of his Brutes had needed field surgery to remove some shrapnel, and Irbinus himself had taken a blast to the chest from the "shotgun", a powerful close-quarters weapon used by the Humans that operated by a means unknown to the Covenant yet. He'd survived, but the Power Armor had needed to be loosened around him for respiration.

So the Pack had been hit hard, but they were still on their feet. That was all that the War Chieftain cared about, and so they'd been assigned here, rather than head out to certain death beneath the carrier. In this situation, every soldier counted.

[Jakob]

Lt. Jakob Zaborowski

Jakob looked at the men in the Pelican, he would of preffered to have a platoon at his hands but for now Aborn's men is all he had.
He looked at the door to the cockpit and yelled "What is the E.T.A of us landing?"

"Six minutes!" The pilot shouted back

Jakob eased a bit so he could get a little relaxed, a private turned to him and asked "Sir, how many alien buggers have been killed so far?" He didn't know but he nodded at the sergeant and said

"Not a question for me kid, ask loud mouth over here" before either the Private or Aborn responded he spoke again "No clue, all we know is that we took the entrance now we just got to get inside."
The Private nodded, obviously scared of the battle to come, just trying not to show it.

[Seraph]

Minor Ramia Sraomee Lethe, Assault Carrier, Gravity lift Bay

The moments were crawling by. Each second seemed long and drawn out to the impatient Minor. Most of her brethren were all standing at attention in the front with statuesque discipline. Many of the lesser races were among them as well, either at attention with their lances or otherwise being carried out of the immediate area due to injury. In silent mockery Ramia Sraomee watched from her spot next to one of the secondary passageways as Unggoy and Kigyar were being removed from the lift bay. But whenever Jirahanae would walk by she would give a wider berth for them. Not because she couldn't stand the smell they carried, but more to the fact that she couldn't help but feel uneasy around when the blood lust was upon them. Any one could see the fire burning in their eyes and feel a slight uneasiness. Ramia did not fear them exactly she just rather leave them and keep to herself.

After the latest group passed through the door deeper into the ship Ramia turned her gaze back to the chaotic scene before her. She was tense and agitated by rec cent events. Her hove like foot was tapping rhythmically against the cold steel. The young \Sangheili could not help but feel apprehensive, anxious, even excitement. Despite the scene before her a part of her looked forward to the coming human offensive. Ramia wanted to...needed to prove her worth to herself and especially her comrades. To stand proud in the ranks of the Covenant, to show she could spill blood in the name honor and glory! A sense of pride swelled within her chest. The foot tapping ceased and she took on a straighter, attentive posture. Ramia reveled in the feeling for a bit with a smug expression on her face, wanting to savor it.

"You seem in higher spirits in the face of defeat." came a remark from off to the other side away from the door. Ramia turned sharply to regard who had the nerve to say such a thing.

"You!...oh, So'hdri. You're a fool to say such a thing." She retorted. Her elder brother merely crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled to himself.

"Ease yourself, you need to relax and keep your attitude in check."

"And you need to watch what you say! That's heresy you speak."

"That was only a jest if not improbable. The humans will not take this carrier. Save your anger for them instead or beat on an unggoy if you have to."

"Be glad that I can't beat on you like I did in Institution."

"That was only because I was going easy on you in training." he reminded her with a amused look.

Ramia only huffed at him and went back to leaning against the wall. The last part of So'hdri's remark was another joke, she knew from the stupid 'grin' on his face. She hated it when he teased her like this. He always kept viewing Ramia as his younger sibling and not as a real warrior. It's been like this since Ramia graduated from training. They were almost complete opposites of each other. She was always taking her military career very seriously, while there was rarely a time where So'dri was serious about anything.

They were silent for some time. Ramia kept eyes forward looking scanning over the lift bay. She was trying to ignore the fact that he was partially right. She was being to stiff and her confrontational habits could get her in trouble. Breathing deeply she tried to focus on the matter at hand.

"Ramia?" The female Sangheili clicked her lower mandibles in a sigh and turned her head to regard her brother. She found that his face had hardened slightly and lacked any hint of its previous mirth. She cocked her head a bit.

"What So'hdri?" her tone lighter now.

"Are you nervous at all? I feel that one of us may not survive this battle." Ramia's mandibles went completely slack. For once he sounded very sullen in his tone, so unlike what he was before.

"I..." Ramia shook her head to compose herself and became stoic again. "Yes I do, but don't be ridiculous. We'll not fall here. I won't allow it." She turned away from her brother again and another, shorter silence ensued. It touched her a bit that there was more to him then his child like obnoxiousness.

"Good. It has been worrying me for some rime now that I might have to keep my eye on you from getting in trouble." So'hdri suddenly blurted. Ramia turned so fast fast and glared at him as if she were going to take off his head. So'hdri visibly flinched at her reaction. The younger Minor took her fist and swung hard at older sibling. He grunted as she hit him hard in the shoulder and flinched again when she angrily snapped her mandibles at him. The young Sraomee's eyes burned and threatened to melt So'hdri's head like plasma melting a bulkhead.

Ramia turned on her heel muttering curses under her breath as she stomped down the corridor out of the lift bay. So'hdri could only stand there shocked. Yet some how he had expected that. "What!" he called after his sister, but made no motion to follow. "That nearly dented the plating..."

[Dutch]

They could really make it more comfortable. Seriously, the pelican’s crash seat felt like, well, a crash seat. Not much padding, and very stiff and straight. That was on the mind of Private First Class Mackenzie as his pelican, one of dozens, blazed through the air of the planet on their way to the gravity lift crater on their mission to reinforce the UNSC forces waiting there before they made their final push into the covenant Carrier floating above the ground like some grotesque whale of doom. Whales of Doom would be a good name for a flip band. That’s what Mackenzie thought. How absurd was that? Here he was, strapped into a military dropship on an alien planet about to join more soldiers to blow open an alien ship to kill them and prevent data from falling into their hands, and he was thinking about crash seat comfort and flip band names? Crazy, especially the fact he was about to actually do this crap.

He checked around the pelican’s blood tray to see the other members of his team. PFC Taylor, their teams sniper. He’d been pretty pissy about ditching the sniper rifle, totally useless in CQB, and was even worse off with his M90 shotgun. He considered the CAWS too inaccurate, an amateur weapon. He complained about the lack of accuracy and finesse which he loved. No one was listening to his moaning, no one ever did. Then there was MaCullum or ‘Mac’ as they called him. Mac was their heavy weapons guy, and he was packing firepower. A jackhammer launcher was in his big arms, with three reloads strapped to him. Mac’s only fear was close quarters, where his ‘tubes would be useless. Still, he had the best attitude of the bunch, all grins and confidence.

Then there was the leader of fireteam foxtrot, Lance Corporal James Connor. He was packing an MA5C AR, good for all around blowing the hell outta aliens, especially in the CQ conditions of the AC. He was cool as a cucumber, not a hint of fear or anything. A nice guy, no care for any of that spit ‘n’ polish crap other officers liked, but not un-disciplined for sure. Mackenzie liked him, he was a good guy. Now he could only hope he didn’t die, like all his other army and navy pals had before. Then, a voice burst out of the speakers in the blood tray announcing the team of their status.

“Ok marines; get ready to hit the ground. We are t-minus one minute to touchdown.” The voice crackled off, only for Connor to fill the silence with his own noise.

“Alright boys, you heard the man. Pack up and get ready to move.” Mackenzie sat up straighter, and checked his rifle. Fully loaded according to both the digital counter and a manual check. Satisfied, he slid it back in and made sure the safety was off. Satisfied that it was, he took his finger off the trigger and got ready to move. All throughout the pelican, the other soldiers prepared their weapons and munitions and also prepared to disembark, with they did shortly.

A little later, there was a slowing down sensation in his stomach, and Mackenzie felt a jolt as the ship touched the ground. There was a momentary silence, then the bay door hissed and opened open, descending with the thrum of hydraulics operating. It touched the ground, and the marines ere up and ready to go. Connors voice rolled across the bay as they began to move forward.

“Ok guys, let’s move, move, and move! Fall our and form up!” Mackenzie moved forward with the other marines in the cargo bay and stepped outside.

As the other marines reorganized from the mod of troops which had came out of the drop ship, Mackenzie got to his fireteam. With Taylor and Mac on each side of him, he stood straight and waited for Connor to give orders.

“Alright guys, so listen up. The plan right now is to get ready while everyone else does likeways and the brass reorganize us all for a final push on the covvies holed up in their ship, got it?” From their mouths, came a weary but sure reply.

“Yes sir.”

“Alright then, dismissed. Go get your stuff ready for a fight but be ready to assemble at a moment’s notice.” They fell out, and Mackenzie headed over to a seat on a covenant supply crate so he could do a final check over on his weapons, and maybe snag a sticky grenade or two.

[serenissima]

Rapid Response Task Force Illustrious

System Gliese-876 Outer Limits

The five warships and one tender of RRTF Illustrious emerged from slipspace, clumsily - thanks to the primitive Shaw-Fujikawa drive, many thousands of kilometres apart. It was the fleet tender Saint Christopher that was closest to the planned exit point, sticking like glue to the attack carrier's comforting, spearhead-like bulk. The four other warships - Melbourne, Scylla, Agano, and Prelude to Implication - were all dispersed over a wide area, but rapidly made turns and gunned their powerful fusion engines to resume their escorting positions around their ward.

"Well, that wasn't too bad..." muttered Commodore Winters, turning on his heel and tugging at the bottom of his uniform to face Leontia, who was staring intently out of the simulated bridge window, here in the deepest heart of the carrier. She had access to every byte of information that Illustrious' systems possessed, could view all of it and comprehend all of it simultaneously - including the feeds from the high-definition cameras which simulated the bridge being in a high, commanding position atop the dorsal hull. Despite this, Leontia still felt the need to lean her avatar forward on the holotank, peering curiously at the perfect-fidelity flatscreens which made this highly protected area of the ship seem like an airy, vulnerable space.

"Deviation from planned exit point: twenty-eight-point-one thousand kilometres, sir." reported Lieutenant Moscone, the heavily bearded navigator, notable for keeping his sidearm loaded and with him at all times.

"Better than I had thought, actually." Winters said, having looked at the screens and made his own , inaccurate, estimate. "Well done, Lieutenant."

Leontia pouted. "Hey! I was helping!"

Saul sighed. "Yes. Yes you were, Leontia. Well done to you too."

"Okay! Scylla and Melbourne are moving to join with us, they should arrive in a few minutes, while Saint Christopher is moving under our point-defence envelope now. Agano and Prelude to Implication will take a little longer, about twenty minutes, as they emerged a teensy bit further away than the others." Leontia reported, pretending to read the information off a scroll which she made appear in her hands.

"Very well, then. Have the ships' intelligences coordinate to bring all vessels into the optimum overlapping point defence formation." Winters replied, before turning to the communications officer.

"Lieutenant, get me a tightbeam message to Admiral Cuttingham. Message begins; RRTF-I has arrived in-system, and will remain on station to meet any possible reinforcements. Apologies we are late, refuelling and re-arming at the original rendezvous point took longer than expected, and we have come a long way. -Winters. Message ends."

"Aye, sir." responded the communications officer, having been rapidly tapping this in and then setting up the array for the narrow-band, tightbeam transmission to the main force. Illustrious and her consorts would stay well away from the centre of the system, where Lethe lay, providing an appropriately rapid response to any new developments.

Scylla and Melbourne soon came into visual range, as the Rapid Response Task Force settled in to watch over the majestic sweep of the Gliese-876 system with Illustrious' powerful sensors.

Saul chuckled slightly as Captain Kincaid, his executive officer, stepped onto the bridge.
"Hasn't been any spaceside activity so far, Chester... looks like we're in for another quiet waste of time where we get rushed off to somewhere else where there's potential but non-existent peril, eh?"

"I agree, Commodore. Once I get off my shift, I'm going to go and lie down, maybe write a letter to my wife. Carrie will have been missing me." Captain Kincaid smiled slightly, and examined the tactical displays.

"That said..." Saul mused, "I don't like how Cuttingham has deployed his forces. Far too bunched up... vulnerable to attack from a direction they might not expect. And if that happens... well, we'll have to be there to bail them out. Won't we, Leontia?"

"So long as I get to fire the MACs." she giggled, before disappearing off back into the carrier's systems.

Returning to his command chair, Captain Kincaid sitting in the executive officer's chair beside him, Commodore Winters settled down to wait, idly playing with the holographic interface on the side of the armrest...

Slipspace sensors had nothing, and the one Covenant warship that was present was well under control, said the display. Just another waste of RRTF-I's time, surely? he thought.

[masterchick]

Athena pulled on her helmet and raced off the Pelican before Cross could tell her to stop. She stretched her limbs, having been cramped from spending so long in such a small space. Even a relatively small amount of time sitting down, was her idea of torture. She had always been that way, it was one of the reasons she had to get out of her father's estate. When the rest of her squad had caught up to her, Cross had a lecture or two for her. She listened to neither, only nodding faintly or saying 'sorry, sir'.

When he was done, he walked over to where the rest of the fireteam were gathered, and she followed. She was nervous to say the least. She hadn't been in a big battle for at least a few years. And in the last year she had seen even less action. Checking to make sure she knew what all of the switches and buttons on her battle rifle did, she scanned the field around her. Content that there was nothing going on around her other than confusion about who goes where, she looked more closely at the crowd.
"Woah, hey, look!" Erik pointed dramatically at a Spartan on the field near them. Athena quickly shoved his arm down.

"Didn't your mommy ever tell you pointing was rude?" She said mockingly.

"I know yours didn't." Erik laughed. Cross, Pyotr and Leo looked away, not wanting to get involved. Athena glared angrily at him, then looked away, trying to keep her breath under control. Save your anger for the fight she told herself, her eyes wandering to a soldier with a bloody mess of a leg. It reminded her of her last failure and she cradled her gun tightly.

"Say what you want. It'll only mean less guilt on my conscience if you die."

[l3rute]

Sean felt the pelican decelerate as they neared the crater. He looks up at his team and keyed the COM once. Their heads snapped up at the sound and all attention was on him. "Okay guys. Who's ready to get at these Covenant son of a bitches?" he said. 

"Hell yea Sarge!" Rizzo yelled as he hefted his M7s in the air. 

"I'm with the kid." Mike said holding his MA5B in the air above. "The fuckers had it coming."

Thomas was quiet meaning he was ready. Sean knew that he had to be praying by the way he held his BR. The only one he was concerned about was Ryan. The medic was holding his AR tightly and seemed to be out of it. Sean opened a private COM channel to Ryan. 

"Hey. You okay?" he asked.

 "I'm fine, okay?" Ryan snapped back with a hint of agitation in his voice. "Just...getting focused. That's all."

"You are definetly not okay soldier!" Sean yelled over the COM. 

"Well at least I am the only one not blindly throwing myself into battle with only a prayer and my rifle to keep us safe!" Ryan yelled back. 

Sean winced. It was true that he and Thomas were the only religious people he knew of in the squad. He gripped the handle of his MA5B to prevent another outburst from his part. He looked outside to see the edge of the crater come into view and the bloody scene before his eyes. As the pelican started to go into a hover he keyed the COM to everyone.  

"Okay everyone this is what we have all been waiting for. Hopefully this will go off without too much of a bang." He looked over at Mike who just shrugged his shoulders. He had probably hidden some explosive in his pack.  "But we aren't called Fireteam Foxfire for nothing. If you need to set something on fire tell me before okay?" He received nods from everyone. 

The pelican hit ground zero and without any encouragement, the ODSTs ran out with Sean bringing up the rear. He surveyed the scene and saw one...no, three Spartans in the area. The odds are with us today. he thought. 

He then noticed an ODST on the ground with a leg wound surrounded by a Spartan, two ODSTs, and what seemed to be a marine. That wasn't good. Ryan, get over to that ODST and see what happened. They may need you. Everyone else can get comfy and wait until they get the grav lift working." On his helmet HUD, four lights winked on in acknowledgment and he saw Ryan hurry over to the group. The rest seperated and started some conversations with the others. 

He looked around more and noticed a squad of marines that had just gotten off of the pelican. His HUD deemed them as "Zeta" squad. He walked over and opened a COM to one of the members named Athena on his HUD. "How is the squad holding up?" he asked remembering the casualties from the squad's last mission.       

[Jakob]

Lt. Jakob Zaborowski

Jakob felt a jerk in his stomach and knew they were landing, he walked over to his seat at the back of the Pelican by the door and sat.

"Landing now, all clear, good luck over there" called the pilot as the Pelican slowed and then finally stopped.

Jakob waited for the door to begin to drop open and then stood up. he quickly jogged outside along with Arnolds who was sitting next to him. He gave a quick look to Arnold's and took a few steps back, the ODST's ran out side and got into two four straight lines by fire team and stood at attention as Arnold's gave them there final briefing.

Jakob looked for someone to receive orders from, the Captain was obviously busy.

[newblood]

Captain Dray Perion

Slipstream to Outer limits of Gliese-876

It had been some time since Perion had been placed into a mission, the Fenix was stationed at Reach for some time. The value of Marathon cruisers were getting dangerously high in the war against the covenant, his crew were nervous about getting into the fight after being out of it for some time.

"We will be arriving on the outer limits of Gliese-876 in ten minutes captain" called Lieutenant Katerna, tapping away on a console "Trajectory for exit set, Check my..." he stopped, remembering that the Fenix Temporarily didnt have an AI, which was being completed.

"Do your best Lieutenant, once in the system ping any ships in the area." His officer and second in command nodded and returned to work "One minute... full stop in ten seconds, two... one, stop."

The cruiser flew out of slipstream, its velocity that of when they entered. "Captain, im registering a small fleet of RRTF ships, one a carrier registered as the RRTF Illustrious."

The captain nodded, standing from his chair "Reverse thrust, slow us down to 25% and get me on the line with the Illustrious Lieutenant."

He waited patiently as Inzerkov worked his station, finally the main screen flickered to life, taking a quick peek at the rank and saluted the Commodore, "This is Captain Dray Perion, I have orders to report to the Gliese-876 system." he put down his arm and continued, "And orders to report to your fleet for patrol under orders of Admiral Cuttingham."

[Soulstep]

Corporal Andrew Deiran Indigo Squad The Crater

Andrew slid another bullet into the clip he was holding, as the signature roar of the Pelicans settled down behind him. After finishing with the clip and inserting it into his ammo belt, he turned, in time to see the new arrivals.

"Fresh meat!" one of the ODSTs nearby grinned.

"Oorah," another replied, slapping his friend on the back.

Shaking his head at the so-called 'elite troops', he loaded his rifle and cycled the bolt, heading over to the new arrivals, leaving Sarah and Tom to finish stocking up on ammo.

Approaching one of the squads, he briefly saluted the squad leader. "Corporal Deiran, Indigo squad. You guys been briefed on the situation?" he asked, nodding back towards the grav lift. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be doing intros for the newcomers, but he figured the C.O.s would rather to not be disturbed too much.

[serenissima]

Rapid Response Task Force Illustrious

System Gliese-876 Outer Limits

"Sir, incoming message from the Fenix." reported the communications lieutenant. Saul looked at him, and then pressed a button on his command chair.

"Put it on my screen," he said, and the holographic projection appeared in front of the chair. The short, black haired captain appeared on this virtual screen, much the same age as Saul, but more muscular and with a scar on his cheek. Saul let the Captain speak.

"This is Captain Dray Perion, I have orders to report to the Gliese-876 system, and orders to report to your fleet for patrol under orders of Admiral Cuttingham."

Commodore Winters smiled slightly and replied. "At ease, Captain. We see you only arrived a few minutes ago, the Admiral clearly does not waste time in giving orders. We won't be here long, only long enough to cover the essential part of this operation, but you're welcome to join us - we can use the additional MACs and point-defence capability if anything happens, not that I expect it to."

Saul tapped a few buttons on his command panel. "We'll need you on the port side of the formation... have your artificial intelligence coordinate with mine for formation, and the Scylla's for firing solutions."

Leontia appeared on her small holotank next to the Commodore's chair. "Um..." she said, completely audible and visible to Captain Perion on the other end of the communications link.

"What is it, Leontia?" Saul said, not even looking at her.

"The Fenix doesn't have an AI for me to interface with! How did they let a ship go out so UNPREPARED?!" she moaned.

"Ah... that could be a problem. So many systems rely on the intelligences, these days... well then, Captain Perion. You'll need to slave your MAC and MLA point-defence controls to another AI in the Task Force... give the AI on the Prelude to Implication control of your MAC firing solution, and you should take your point-defences under the control of the Scylla's AI. That should make sure that the Fenix isn't at a loose end and is a fully functioning part of our combat network."

[nex]

Steve 'Crash' Colsten Grav Lift Crater, Lethe

“Crash”. He turned to see who the voice belonged to. It was none other than Rob ‘Yellow’ Yelenosky. The technical officer for the ONI's Special Operations Team. They'd met when he was in 'Training'. Well, thats what they called it. He just laid around and got to know some of the newer computer developments the UNSC had to offer. They had tried to get him off his Caffeine dependency. but that had failed miserably. Yellow was one of the few people here that was well aware of his capabilities and his past.

“Dig the Shinnies,”. "Do you like them then?" He said flashing the inactive Jackal shield he'd strapped to his upper forearm, as he extended his hand to shake Yellow's.
"You know I just have to have a souvenir. When's there a better oppertunity than this?"

“I heard that an ONI tech would be boots-on-the-ground this mission. Glad to see it was you.” Yellow said, grasping each others suited hands in a friendly manner.
"Yeah, fleet figured they couldn't afford the explosives for the marines to get through the ship their way, so I was a more 'feasible solution'. He replied jovially.

“Oh how’s Paula? Didn’t get a proper goodbye before I went planet side.” Yellow continued.

"Paula? Last I saw she was bothering the bridge staff. I think she wanted the Captain to authorise a sweeper team as soon as the ground was clear. Looks like it'll be a good haul, but I can't see him approving that myself. I wouldn't be suprised if the Captain had her banned from the bridge." He couldn't help but let out a light chuckle as he said that. Paula, as nice as she was, couldn't help but annoy the captain. He was too cautious. A good Prowler Captain. But she was an impatient ONI field agent, who was always looking to get the best results as soon as possible.

He paused to glance up at the Pelicans arriving, and the fresh fire teams that made up the second wave


"Looks like the Party's getting started". He stowed the sword on his belt, withdrew his canteen and took a swig. Regulations stated that it should only carry water, but this held a high Caffeine mix that would cure his growing fatigue and get him pumped. Old Habits die hard.

Captain Kerslake UNSC Midnight Silence

"Report", Captain Kerslake barked as he stepped onto the bridge of the UNSC Midnight Silence. He'd taken the lull in the fighting to catch some much needed rest. An instructor had once told him, that you should sleep whenever you get the chance, because you never know when you'll next get that chance. But now, something had needed his attention urgently on the bridge. The ship had been holding station in a high orbit over Lethe. He had avoided getting too close. Even a damaged covenant cruiser was still a dangerous opponant to a single frigate.

"Sir, multiple slipspace ruptures on the edge of the system." one of his Bridge staff nervously replied.

"Adria, identify". He said, moving to take his place at the centre console.

"Background radiation from Lethe's surface is interferring with my sensors. I can't get a clear reading. I am however detecting several distinct energy signatures." The cool blue holographic figure looked unfazed by the turn of events. She had already probably predicted it.

"Any word from Task Force Arnhem?". He was hoping that maybe they could get a better reading.

"Negative, so far sir.", his Comm Officer reported.

"Alright then. Sound All-hands." He paused a moment as the alarm was sounded over the ship. He turned to address the holo console. She couldn't really see him, but he often felt the need to treat her as a real person.

"Adria, Can they see us? Are we safe here?"

"It's possible. Mirage Class Vessels lack the stealth operational capacity of a Prowler. And even Prowlers can't stay completley hidden for the amount of time we've been here. But its likely we'll be harder to track with the current minimal systems running."

"Ok then, Standby to arm weapons systems. Adria, I really need to know what we're up against."

"Launching a Clarion Spy Drone. I should have Telemetry in a few minutes."

"Ensign, plot me an emergency course out of here, in case we need it.

"Telemetry coming through now. It's a UNSC carrier group. Rapid Response Task Force Illustrious.

"Stand down crew.

He swore under his breadth a few more times. If it hadn't been for them, he would still be enjoying his sleep. Well, since he was up.

"All Stations, Status Report". It was the fourth time since the operation had begun that he'd asked his crew that. The answers were becoming predictable

"Ablative Baffles are functioning."
"Texture buffers are online."
"Electronic Countermeasures are running"
"Stealth coating is intact"

"We are hidden".

[masterchick]

Athena's head snapped up as she was addressed. It took her a few moments to realize that this soldier was actually talking to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Erik backing up slightly, making it clear that she had won this argument.
"Uh... fine... ready for some payback" She replied awkwardly, half smiling at the last bit and crossing her arms behind her. They had never actually been told that it was the Covenant was behind the attack that had killed half her squad, but the group had figured it out easily enough.

She looked back to see the rest of the squad had followed Erik a few feet away from her, where Erik continued to point and gawk at the Spartans, and the rest of the group tried to calm him down and make him stop pointing. She couldn't help grimacing. How had Erik of all people survived when plenty of other good men and women had died? Her gaze shifted to Jimmy Cross, her C.O. and wondered what he meant when he said that he wouldn't be in the marines much longer.

[monkeyjoe14]

ODST Sergeant Redsont

Redsont had John take care of the trooper. He and his team swept the area for weapons, ammo or anytihng else. Desmond had a couple of plasma pistols and a needler while Pat had a mauler and two spikers. Fred had a brute shot and Ed had a fuel rod cannon.

Redsont found a grav hammer on a fallen Brute chieftain and sometihng else, a form of pda or a covenant version of one. Redsont plucked it from the brute's belt and examined it. He then hit the com.

"Team regroup on me, we're heading back", Redsont said.

His team regrouped and they headed back with their spoils.

[inhert]

Red Wing

The ceiling of the hallways of a UNSC frigate is a rarely noticed feature of the ship’s architecture. For Cole “South” Sanderson it was the only thing he could see as he was wheeled to the halls of the UNSC Welrod. South and his gurney were surrounded by emergency technicians from the Med-bay, the conversation that South drifted into and out of centered around his state of paralyzation.

“We might not need surgery, the nanites could repair the nerve and he’d be right as rain” The Tech pushing the gurney had a non-invasive idea to heal South.

“That might not work, at all. Even with the advances with the nanites we might have to go in a get hands on” A second tech’s comment made South cringe at the thought of surgeons having to cut into his spine.

The gurney reached the end of its journey as it was pushed into the med-bay. The Doctor on duty strode up the South and listened to what the pushing tech had to say. After nodding as he digested the report the doctor dismissed the techs and turned his attention to South. For his own edification he checked for sensation in South’s legs.

“Doc just get me back planet-side.” South was starting to have guilt of not be able to help his comrades on Lethe.

“You’re a good candidate for the nanites but I want you to stay shipboard for twenty-four hours, for recovery.” The doctor was clearly underestimating South, who gave the doctor a go ahead wave. The doctor pulled a white air-syringe from a table and pressed it to the back of South’s hand. The nanites could be injected anywhere on the body and the small micro machines would make their way to the injured area and start their repair immediately.

Within minutes South found himself wiggling his big toe. Even if he was paralyzed for less then an hour, south was still elated to feel his legs again. The only downside was the pins-and-needles sensation; it was a discomfort that he was glad to have for the first time in his life. His first step would be to hop off the gurney and get his boots on, a plan that failed miserably on its attempt.

“Twenty-four hours!” The commotion of falling to the floor caused the doctor to hustle over to help South back onto the gurney, something South did not want to do.

“No, I’m good the pins-and-needles are going away.” South resisted the attempt to put him back on the gurney.

“I have to urge you to wait till you have fully recovered”

“I can walk.” The comment was punctuated with a fall from the gurney. South started his third attempt to stand, the major difference this time was lack of pins-and-needles. This third and successful attempt to stand allowed South to put his boots on and hurry out to door to catch a Pelican back planet-side.

[Soulstep]

Lieutenant, Junior Grade Peter Graham Navigation Officer for the Forlorn Hope

Peter peered at the display Captain 'McMad' was looking at with Polly, and let out a low whistle. "How many ships have they sent here anyway?" he asked, remembering that Task Force Arnhem, which they were part of, were still on station. "I mean, there's us, the Mirage frigates, and now these new arrivals, what's ONI expecting, the entire Covenant armada? How many ships do you need to watch one damaged carrier?"

Peter silenced himself before he could say anything else, yes McMad wasn't big on formalities, but insubordination was probably a bad thing to even get close to risking. Especially if ONI was nearby, which knowing the importance of this op, was almost certainly the case.