Comms Relay (IC)

[kartoffelfogel]

May 8, 2537
0645 Hours
Outpost Zeta, 450 miles northwest of Kholo City
Kholo, Outer Colonies

It was snowing hard at the outpost on the morning of the Covenant attack. Inside, two enlisted Marines, Lance Corporal Ashley Vayguard and Private First Class Todd Summers, were sitting at their respective stations. They were partly keeping track of incoming fleet messages and comms traffic, but mostly just tired and bored. Nobody liked working the graveyard shift – but at least for them, the long wait till the end of the shift was almost over. They’d be getting off work at 0730 hours and could then each return to their respective barracks on base for a good long sleep.

In the meantime, Vayguard sat there shifting her eyes between the holo-clock on the wall and her monitor. Occasionally there’d be a few words coming in through her headphones, but for the most part it was either static or silent. She let out a small sigh. She’d been too young to have to deal with the Innie presence here as a Marine; she imagined listening outposts such as this one must’ve been real important back then to give the Marines a heads-up in case of a rebel attack. Now they were just pits of mind-numbing time consumption without a lot of action.

As soon as the Human-Covenant War had begun, comms traffic had picked up a bit of course, but never too much here on Kholo. Up until now, the colony had done well for itself in terms of bolstering some of its planetary defenses in anticipation of the Covenant, although they’d never had to actually use it. Both the civilian and military population had gotten nervous about the new alien threat years ago when first contact had occurred on Harvest, but since Kholo kept getting miraculously spared as other Outer Colonies beyond it were taken, everyone began to get just a little complacent. Surely the Covenant wouldn’t attack here, they all believed. It was a product of a belief near-universally shared by all humans – catastrophes never happen to you; always to someone else. And Lance Corporal Vayguard was among those who shared that thought.

Her partner, PFC Summers, however, did not.

“Hey, Vayguard,” he said to her from across the room. He waited until she turned around at her own station to look at him before he continued. “Why do you think Sarge hasn’t contacted us yet?”

The lance corporal let out a sigh as she leaned back in her chair and took a moment to rub her eyes. “She was off today, remember? We’re dealing with the LT. And you know officers. He’s probably still snoring in a warm rack in some nice posh barracks apartment that he’s got all to himself, lucky bastard. I say we’re lucky if we get off by 0800 today.”

Summers chuckled at her bitterness. “Always so cranky, Lance. You ever lighten up?”

“I do once I get some rest and a couple beers in me.”

The PFC cleared his throat. “So, uh, any chance you might want to – ”

“Contacts!”

The loud cry over their headphones startled both Marines and had them each jerk instantly back towards their consoles, almost in sync with one another. Suddenly the screens were lighting up everywhere and streams of reports and general hails flooded their listening devices. It was all the pair could do to keep up.

“There’s an anomaly on the scanners! Check that again, Ensign!”

“Dammit, I want a sitrep, now! What are those ships? Are they Covenant?”

“Ma’am, scan conclusive! They’re Covenant ships, Commander. I repeat, Covenant ships!”

“Covenant ships inbound!”

“The Covenant are invading!”

“Kholo be advised, Covenant fleet on the way!”

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Lance Corporal Vayguard blocked out the garbled noise and glanced over at Summers. His face had gone absolutely white as he stared back at her in disbelief.

“Shit. I told you. I told you this would happen here. Oh my God…”

It took another few seconds for Vayguard to get her wits about her again. “Summers, you need to calm down. We need to – ”

“They’re here! On Kholo! Holy – ”

The lance corporal hardened her expression and stood from her chair, tossing her headphones to the side. “Lock it up, Private!” she shouted in a command voice she hadn’t known she was even capable of. She stunned both herself and Summers. Vayguard blinked, took a deep breath, and began again in a lower but firm tone. “Now, send out the message to the base and our backups. This place is valuable so you can bet your ass the Covies won’t be skipping us.”

PFC Summers swallowed hard. Vayguard had to admit she felt the same – she felt like her stomach had just dropped and her mouth had gone dry. But she continued.

“Once you’re done with that, we need to contact Lieutenant Asher. Maybe he’ll bring some extra Marines with him, too, to help. But he needs to be notified of what’s going on right now. Understood?”

Summers stared back at her blankly for another moment before he slowly nodded. He swallowed a second time, then asked, “What about you? What are you going to do?”

Lance Corporal Vayguard let slip just a bit of her own anxiety into her words. “I’m going to go break open the armory. We need to suit up and gear up in case the aliens come here first.”

***

OBJECTIVES:

UNSC – Secure the FLEETCOM relay. It is imperative that the Covenant do not gain control of this comms station. Should all attempts at holding the relay fail, rig the place to blow and destroy it.

***Helljumpers of the 105th ODST Company will be dropping in 12km outside the objective area and will then make their way via 'Hogs to the outpost. You're expected to find only a few remaining dug-in Marines barely hanging on against the Covenant attack there. As stated above, it's your job to secure the area. PLEASE WAIT FOR THE AREA COMMANDER TO POST before you begin. The thread will be locked until orders have been issued. Good luck!

Covenant – Secure the FLEETCOM relay. Take it by force and spill the blood of the filthy humans to disrupt their communications. Do not allow them to detonate this invaluable prize.

***Covenant players will be on the verge of overwhelming the sparse UNSC forces at the comms relay when the ODSTs arrive. It's your job to beat back the enemy reinforcements and make sure they do not retake the outpost. Good luck!

Heretics - Fight all who are blinded by the Prophet's lies.

[hollowsaber]

Major Salvatore Foely Commander of the 105th Helljumpers Battalion. Planet Kholo, 12km from Outpost Zeta.

A low hum came from the shadows of the room. Completely dark, and not a single speck of light was visible. Almost as if a small black hole has nestled itself in the middle of the space. The hum was followed by a shudder, a shake, then a consistent trembling. Moments later, the space shook violently and whined under heavy stress. This lasted nearly a minute before it stabilized, and calm finally ensued. This calm didn’t last long.

“Drop it.” A stern voice echoed through the space, and the blackness answered.

A heavy vibration flowed through the shadows as light began to penetrate into the dark. The bay door of a pelican slowly began to drop open, a dangling Gauss Warthog attached to a thick magnetic plate on the other side, with open skies behind it. The clear sky slowly was engulfed by grey clouds and snow as the pelican dropped through the atmosphere.

Inside of the pelican, ODSTs lined the seats from the bay door to the cabin door. On each side, Troopers checked ammo and equipment, as well as each other. In the middle, a single file line of ODSTs stood doing the same. But two Troopers stood together, hanging on just barely inside the bay door. One of them stared out of the back, looking towards the invisible ground as the other looked towards the passengers of the pelican.

“Here we go…” The Trooper looking out the bay door whispered, getting the attention of the other to look out.

The moment he looked; the clouds broke. Out of the grey clouds, an entire squadron of Pelicans pushed towards the snowed in terrain. On the back of every Pelican, Warthogs hung on for their lives as the heavy transports lugged them along. Chain-guns, Gauss guns, Rocket pods, Flamethrower turrets, and good ol’ troop-transport cages; all varieties of the versatile vehicle were being brought down to the ground to be used; and every one of them would be used this time.

The pelicans were formed into multiple lines, each parallel to each other except for the one Pelican that flew above the rest. The Transports burned forward strongly, and a thunderous roar echoed behind the squadron as it approached its destination. In the distance, a massive COMMs Relay stuck out like a sore thumb, and the reason why the Pelicans were moving did too; Covenant Phantoms.

“Major.” A voice echoed over the pelican bay speakers, and all eyes turned to focus on the one Trooper staring at the squadron below.

“Lets do it.” The Trooper nodded and braced, gripping onto the handle that he used to keep himself in the bay, tight.

The Pelican tipped and listed forward, adjusting its angle until it was heading at an angle downwards. The Troopers inside held onto their seats and watched as the one Trooper in the bay seemed un-phased by the sudden change. The Transport continued towards the ground until it was even with the rest of the squadron, taking a lead position in front of the columns of Transports. Then with a gentle wing-shake, the pelicans dropped row by row towards the ground.

As they dropped, a single click echoed throughout the entire Squadron, connecting to all of their passengers.

“Troopers of the 105th. This is Major Foely. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far, because it’s just getting started.” Foely spoke as calmly and evenly as he could, his voice piercing the channel as he spoke over the noise of the pelicans.

“A few hours ago, Covenant signatures were sighted all across the system, obviously. Upon our arrival, our good friends in the Navy found this Relay and a distress signal coming from it. We’re going to go shut it off. Wait for the signal, then hit the dirt. Load up in Warthogs and Mongooses. Once the vehicle is stuffed, head for the relay. Everyone remains in sight and in communications range. If you see trouble, speak up immediately. I’m going to attempt to get some Air Support, but we may have to go in solo.”

The pelicans lifted up and slowed their pace. As they approached the LZ, all of the other pelicans opened up their bay doors and began to spread apart some, eventually forming into multiple diamonds, much like a grid.

“Air support or not, we’re going in. We travel by hog, secure the outpost, and hold it. Upon arrival to the Relay, I’ll have further instructions.” Foely let his left foot start forward, but he waited to step, leaving it out there.

Then the ground came hard. The Pelicans sat down quickly into the snow, their supports and bay-doors digging in roughly. Not moments after they touched, the Warthogs were released and clambered down as well. Foely stepped out into the white snow, his white and black ODST snow-camouflage BDU instantly took on snow.

“Failure isn’t an option. Failure is never an option, Troopers. Load up, roll out, and let’s go rescue our damsel in distress.”

After dispatching his Troopers, Foely quickly switched channels to the closest UNSC Base, hoping that he could get some help. As he dismounted the Pelican, then stepped into the Gauss-turreted Warthog's passenger seat, the Major got his eyes on the sky.

"Kholo-Alpha Base, this is 105th Helljumper Battalion CO, Major Foely. Requesting Air Support as we advance to Outpost Zeta. Got multiple Covenant Contacts, having some friendly eyes in the sky would be much appreciated." Foely's answer was slow, and static was the only thing he could here for a second after he spoke. Then it went quiet for another moment.

"Major, this is Kholo-Alpha Base. We're bogged down, and the city-fighting has most of our assets busy. We can spare some Sparrowhawks and a Vulture, but not much else. We'll redirect air traffic to give you a hand once the skies clear-up over here. The Covenant have caught us off guard, and we're spread thin. Sorry Major, its the best we can do right now." The male on the other side of the channel was jumpy, and the sound in the background wasn't very reassuring.

"Copy that Kholo, any help is better then none. Have the fly-boys switch to channel Zeta-Six-Two once they get close. Foely out." Foely made a note to himself of what he could expect for support, then switched back to his Battalion channel. Glancing over to his impatient driver, Foely nodded and the Trooper floored it, darting straight for the Relay outpost in the distance.

Lets do this Troopers. All PC ODSTs are now free-to-post. Take your time getting to the outpost and let everyone post. Do not post once and expect to be there. I'd say everyone post two or three times before reaching the outpost. Remember; we got 12km to go. So have some fun writing this! Enjoy the scenery!

[Spartan 999]

First Lieutenant Isin Herald

Snow whirled into the pelican as the back opened, allowing those on board to view the landscape. Despite his armor that was actually quite warm, Isin felt the cold air knife through to his body, almost numbing his hands within seconds. He gripped the BR55HB SR battle rifle in his hands tighter, readying himself.

The COM crackled to life, and Isin recognized Major Foely's voice as he spoke to the ODST's of the 105'th.


“Troopers of the 105th. This is Major Foely. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far, because it’s just getting started. A few hours ago, Covenant signatures were sighted all across the system, obviously. Upon our arrival, our good friends in the Navy found this Relay and a distress signal coming from it. We’re going to go shut it off. Wait for the signal, then hit the dirt. Load up in Warthogs and Mongooses. Once the vehicle is stuffed, head for the relay. Everyone remains in sight and in communications range. If you see trouble, speak up immediately. I’m going to attempt to get some Air Support, but we may have to go in solo. Air support or not, we’re going in. We travel by hog, secure the outpost, and hold it. Upon arrival to the Relay, I’ll have further instructions. Failure isn’t an option. Failure is never an option, Troopers. Load up, roll out, and let’s go rescue our damsel in distress.”

Isin couldn't help but grin as he racked the battle rifle, helmeted head nodding to those under his command. "You heard the Major. We have some Covie arse to kick."

The pelican descended, allowing the ODST's to spill out. Isin nimbly hopped into the passenger seat of a standard 'hog, Corporal Cairns getting into the driver seat. Corporal Fisher took the turret, snickering at a joke Private Jones had told him. Sergeant Freis took a troop transport Warthog, the rest of his squad piling in.

"Let's go." Isin said to Cairns. The Corporal nodded to him, visor polarizing. She slammed on the gas, accelerating the Warthog so as to keep up with the rest of the 105'th.

Special Operations Inquisitor Sorsa 'Xirsasai

The orbital drop pod shuddered and quaked as it fell. Sorsa didn't mind the drop so much, but the fact that it wasn't made for someone of his stature made the journey even more uncomfortable than it otherwise would have been.

A final crunching-smash signaled the pod had landed. Sorsa punched the front open, propelling it quite a long ways away. He was met with cold air and a flurry of white flakes; he paused, mandibles moving slightly as he remembered the Xirsas Keep. It snowed almost nonstop up in the mountains his clan owned, coating everything in their shimmering whiteness. He sighed, pushing the nostalgia and memories out of his mind. He would need to be utterly focused to survive on his own. Still...he was in his element, now that it was snowing. He had trained for years on end with the frozen flakes, and knew how to use it to his advantage.

Sorsa grabbed his burst rifle and needle rifle with one hand each, then slid them onto his back. The rifles magnetized to the armor, freeing up his hands. He checked his plasma pistol and needler, making sure they were still attached. He moved from the small crater his pod had made, active camouflage obscuring him from sight.

He nimbly traversed the terrain to the comms station, the snow flurries adequately obscuring the tell-tale invisible heat bloom effect of his camouflage. He could hear gun and plasma fire as he crept to one of the far walls of the station, burst rifle in hand.

Sorsa snuck through one of the outer doors, slightly disappointed no humans were in that general area. He followed the sounds of battle, feet padding lightly across the cold metal floors.

The Inquisitor finally came into a large room, and was pleased to see several human corpses on the floor as a firefight raged, bullets, needles, and bolts of plasma hurtling through the air.

Grinning savagely, Sorsa drew his needle rifle, then entered the fray.

[Wax™]

Corporal Dean 'Coxy' Cox

Cox sat hunched over in the Pelican on the seat closest to the Pelican's cockpit, all the while staring at Lieutenant Herald through his darkened visor like a cobra, since Lucy was no around he had been put in a different squad and this time Lieutenant Herald was the one that he would have to directly report to, Cox took his eye's away from Herald and looked down at the floor tensing up and almost instantly getting goose bumps as the rear hatch open and the snowy wind struck against him and his armor.

“Troopers of the 105th. This is Major Foely. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far, because it’s just getting started. A few hours ago, Covenant signatures were sighted all across the system, obviously. Upon our arrival, our good friends in the Navy found this Relay and a distress signal coming from it. We’re going to go shut it off. Wait for the signal, then hit the dirt. Load up in Warthogs and Mongooses. Once the vehicle is stuffed, head for the relay. Everyone remains in sight and in communications range. If you see trouble, speak up immediately. I’m going to attempt to get some Air Support, but we may have to go in solo. Air support or not, we’re going in. We travel by hog, secure the outpost, and hold it. Upon arrival to the Relay, I’ll have further instructions. Failure isn’t an option. Failure is never an option, Troopers. Load up, roll out, and let’s go rescue our damsel in distress.”

Came the message from Major Foely moments before the Pelican Cox was in touched down on the ground, Cox was the last to bail out of the Pelican he was in and instead of rushing to a Warthog or Mongoose like everyone else he kinda just stopped about a meter away from the Pelican and watched everyone as they scrambled to their vehicles and took off in a rush, Cox then gripped his MA37 and jogged to a near-by Mongoose that had no one on it, Cox swung his MA37 around to his back and climbed onto the seat of the Mongoose, seconds before he took off he felt the weight of a man jump into the back and pat his shoulder before speaking.

"Nice to see you again Cox"

The man spoke... It was Alex, Cox punched the throttle and put in full power to catch up to the powerful Warthogs, he caught up with Lieutenant Herald's Warthog and matched speed about a meter from the passenger seat where Lieutenant Herald was sitting, just to be a smart ass really, though behind the darkened visor of his helmet he was serious and contempt, his helmet was the same helmet he used on Artifice and had a massive silver blast mark on the side where the paint was scorched off by a Sentinel beam, Cox gripped the handles of the Mongoose tight, and even tighter every time the Mongoose went over a large bump, Cox would occasionally look to Lieutenant Herald, eventually he decided to send a text message to Herald using his neural interface.

"Can you keep up?"

He text-ed while with quotation marks and it italicized to be a smart ass, he also revved the Mongoose as best he could while it was moving.

[Spartan 999]

First Lieutenant Isin Herald

[/center]

Isin blinked as a text message scrolled across his HUD. He smirked as he looked to the right, unpolarizing his visor so the Corporal could see his eyes when he glanced at the Lieutenant. He burst out laughing as Cox revved the Mongoose, bouncing over a large bump before passing the Warthog.

"Corporal Cairns, keep up with that Mongoose, will ya?" Isin said to Ashley. She grinned under her helmet and nodded in acknowledgment as she put the 'hog into a higher gear. The larger vehicle crept up on the Mongoose, roaring as the dark tires made lines through the snow. Isin wrote a text up and sent it to Cox, grinning as he did so.

Question is, can you? The text read as the Warthog's nose passed the Mongoose.

[Wax™]

Corporal Dean 'Coxy' Cox

Cox skimmed the message Lieutenant Herald had sent him and smirked, he lent down all the way into the Mongoose and stretched his arm back to tap Alex on the knee who slung his weapon back bend all the way down and gripped onto the rear handle with both his hands as tight as he could, Cox turned his head slightly to see the Warthog's nose creep past the Mongoose slowly, Cox smirked and used his neural interface to conjure up another text using his head's up display in the helmet, satisfied he sent it through.

'Just you wait Lieutenant'

As soon as Cox sent that through he downed a gear and moved in behind the Warthog, using it as a slip-stream so that the howling wind was not battering against him and the Mongoose, once he had been behind the Warthog for a few seconds he put the Mongoose up a gear and slung himself around the Warthog back to Lieutenant Herald's side, he took one hand off the handle to wave before looking back forward and stretching past the Warthog by a meter, half a meter.

'Should I go easy on your driver?'

[Spartan 999]

First Lieutenant Isin Herald

[/center]

Isin rapidly texted back, grinning broadly all the while.

Nah, she can handle it. You may not be able to, though. The text scrolled across Cox's HUD.

"Outrun that Mongoose, Corporal." Isin said as he looked over to Ashley. "Looks like it's turning out to be an old-fashioned drag race..."

Ashley complied, eeking out even more speed from the 'hog. The racing duo were soon nearing the front of the battalion, and were given more than one odd look. Isin was jerked to the right as Ashley swerved, heading for a ramp-like boulder in their path. The Warthog accelerated, then reached the ramp as Cox's Mongoose zipped around.

The Warthog roared as it gained air, flying about a meter over Cox's head before thudding to the ground to his right, tires screeching as it pulled ahead of the smaller vehicle. From the back, Mason mock-flipped off Cox with one hand, roaring with laughter; he was only about one and a half meters away from Cox's Mongoose, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the race.

[unstoppable]

SgtMaj John Layton
1iC of Hellraiser squad, spec ops ODST
Planet Kholo, 12km from Outpost Zeta
Freezing his arse off in a blizzard

John was glad to be off the pelican; dark, cramped, crowded and filled with too many itchy trigger fingers. He stared out at the snow, he would have stared at the scenery but that was all he could see. A solid wall of white with only the slight ruffling texture of the flakes of snow as they drifted through the air, the rest obscured by the kind of fog or mist that traditionally came with heavy snow. "Looks just like home." Said a soft but determined voice next to him.

John turned his head to look at the woman standing next to him, she was somewhat dwarfed by his size but then that could be applied to most people. It was his 2iC and residential team badass Natalya; "Remind me never to visit Russia." John said and crossed his arms across his chest, standing in the doorway with her, completely unfazed by the swaying of the pelican on the way down to the ground.

Glancing back at his team he saw them all suited up and ready to go, only one looked nervous, he could tell. The new member of the squad, Vanessa, replacement to their old friend and spotter Harvey. To be fair, she had adopted the squad's unorthodox ways well and Ophelia had been treating her well, keeping her safe and teaching her everything she knew. Ophelia had been devastated when Harvey had died, they had been close friends. She seemed determined not to lose another. John smiled as Ophelia nudged Vanessa's shoulder, giving her a signal to stop gripping the barrel of her gun so tightly and breathe slowly, it was tough to accept a new member of the squad, especially one as green as the Private but Ophelia seemed to be making her feel right at home.

Other than the spotter/sniper pair there was only one other trooper really doing anything other than checking their equipment; Eddie twirling the Fury tactical nuke in his hands as if it was a football. If John wasn't enough to intimidate anyone into doing what the squad wanted, the borderline psychotic explosives expert was.

John clicked his fingers, in truth; the thought of the Lance Corporal with a nuclear device scared him a little. "Hand it back Eddie." He said in slow, calm, voice to which the Lance Corporal frowned back to his Sergeant from beneath his helmet. Eddie opened his mouth to speak but glanced again at the expression on John's face, it wasn't a demanding look; he knew better than to treat people like that, it was a look which simply told him that one way or another that bomb was leaving the man's hands. He reached out and placed the TAC-Nuke into John's hands, who simply set it on top of his pack, fastening it securely to his BDU.

Turning back towards the open hatch he glanced again at Natalya who was smirking confidently up at him, teasing him gently, she knew how he felt about the current conditions. "Well great why don't we just send ODSTs through ten feet of snow with little to no air support." He grumbled and shifted his arms, his instincts trying to protect him against the cold. "The idea's one step from from being designed by a vegtable!"

"It's why you have the ice queen with you." She said, her voice somehow lifting itself up above the roar of the engines. She turned and called out to the squad, "Thirty seconds till touchdown!" Turning back to John she reached out and handed him his helmet before actually stepping onto the warthog while they were still in flight and climbing into the driver's seat.

John smoothed his hand over his shaved head one more time, clearing flecks of snow off his dome before he shoved his helmet down onto his head and locked it in place. Stepping onto the front of the warthog he stepped out, clinging onto the roll-cage and watching the ground speeding away beneath him. He turned and rolled into the 'hog, shoving his gun down the side next to his knee, still using the MA5K variant of the assault rifle, it was lighter and he was used to it, the extra weight always threw his aim on the other variants.

It was barely five seconds before the pelican touched down and allowed the warthog to drop a few feet to the ground. John grunted as his stomach managed to catch back up with where gravity had dragged his body; at least it was only a mild tickling sensation as opposed to the feeling he got in a HEV. He secretly still wished the ships had been in position to drop them in though, that was half the reason he had become an ODST. Turning on the TEAMCOM he spoke directly to his squad, "Everyone out and to their 'hogs we've got a long journey ahead of us and it looks like the Covenant have beaten us to it. Action people, rest stop ended five minutes ago!" He ordered, watching Orlov step onto the back of the warthog with Natalya and him, manning the rocket pod, John reached back and bumped the team medic's fist before looking back ahead and signalling for Natalya to get moving. His squad was split, he was in the lead of his squad with the rocket hog, three others were in a gauss 'hog, three more in a regular LAAV 'hog and the final four members were bringing up the rear, crammed into troop transport 'hog with what looked like enough explosives to destroy a Covenant fleet.

They travelled a little way behind the lead of the company in a surprisingly neat diamond formation; John sighed and stamped his feet in the vehicle as they sped along the naturally formed ridges and rifts as they shifted with the weather. The TEAMCOM crackled back to life and Raja, leader of fireteam Bravo, spoke up. "Sarge what exactly is the plan, I mean what are we doing here?" He said, asking the question everybody else in the squad seemed to be struggling with.

John tapped the small box on the side of his head, linking his helmet's systems with his neural lace and responded, answering the entire team. "We're here to aid the efforts in freeing the Comms relay, failing that however we're here to blow it all to hell should the Covenant overrun it. On the Major's orders only! Is that understood?" He said and waited for the sound of the double click conformation from the leader of each fireteam. He nodded silently and grinned beneath his helmet, "And remember, we are the Hellraisers, anyone can drop feet first into hell!" He called out over his squad's radio and waited for the response.

All together came the crackling of radios as every squad member rang out in unison, "But we're the only ones who bring it back with us!" They called back, the sound of their voices accompanied with laughter and the honking of horns.

He was just about to settle back down into his seat when he heard he sounds of engines working overtime behind them; twisting in the seat he could see a Mongoose and a Warthog locked in what could only be described as some kind of duel to see who could reach the relay first. The Mongoose would have been a sure thing if it were not for the 'Hog's superb off-road capabilities, which in the snow were shining. He grinned and nudged Natalya, pointing to a ridge caused by the snow. She instantly got the idea, slamming her foot down and catapulting the huge tonnage of car over the ridge, catching a few metres of air before the wheels collided with the ground again. They swerved a little, just ahead of the pair when John opened up a communications channel with the racing pair. "Are you two happy making eyes across the snow at each other?" He joked and laughed, leaning out of the side of the Warthog and giving a casual two finger salute to the both of them before leaning back into the Warthog and giving Natalya another nudge, feeling himself being sucked back into his seat as she put her foot down, taking them back into position at the head of the squad.

[Deleted]

James Fawley
Vulture Gunship
En-Route to Comm's Array

The Captain switched to his comm channel, boosted the single thanks to the Arizona's comm channel, which housed the three Vultures anyways. He typed on the channel on the Comm console, Zeta-Six-Two.

"Major, Kholo Air Traffic had redirected a flight of three Vulture Gunships. Plans changed, air-traffic has my flight heading you way. ETA, forty minutes." The Captain said, "Might I ask what you are up against anyways, Major?" He added.

Technically, there were in completely different chain of command, and the Captain never really understood how the Navy-Marine ranks worked, but he was pretty sure, just because he was a Major, it would probably be "Sir" from now on.

Regardless, the re-arm from Kholo City was needed. After they had helped a squad of Marines, the helped for a little while push the Covenant back in some areas. Those area's are probably over run, but it bought civilians some time to re-act and evacuate.

Right now, the Captain was glad to get out. He knew the FLEETCOMM channel to the UNSC Ships was still open, and they needed it shut off. To bad the UNSC Fleet had just taken some damage.

[Spartan 999]

Special Operations Inquisitor Sorsa 'Xirsasai

[/center]

Sorsa flipped the human over on its back with his foot, quickly slamming down on the alien's chest. He felt bone crunch beneath his weight, and felt a cruel satisfaction as the human groaned in pain, blood spraying in the air as it coughed. He slowly pressed down, snickering as the human gasped and struggled futilely to push the massive foot off his chest.

After a few moments of struggling, Sorsa grew bored. He pressed down hard, almost crushing the human's chest flat. The alien's struggles ceased almost instantly as blood started pooling underneath its corpse.

Sorsa looked up, hands flexing as he considered the few Covenant soldiers in the room with him. The Ultra in charge had successfully managed to rally them into an effective attack, the result being several more human deaths and the routing of those holding the barricade in the room. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. He scraped the crimson blood off his boot, then stalked over to the Ultra in command.

“Inquisitor.” The Ultra said, bowing slightly as the gray-white armored Sangheili approached. Sorsa didn't bother to reciprocate the gesture. “I am Ultra Hiro 'Imantee, leader of the creche in this location.”

“How many soldiers to you have under your command?” Sorsa rumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“Thirty-four, as of the end of this battle.” Hiro replied, looking at five dead Unggoy lying next to a Kig-Yar and Sangheili Minor. “But far more humans have fallen, thanks in no small part to your intervention.”

Sorsa grinned under his helmet as he considered the irony of that statement, remembering the time when he commanded Intervention Lance, and later Intervention Creche. He mentally shook himself out of his quasi-reverie, turning to the side to regard the rest of the creche.

“Have them ready to move in one minute.” Sorsa said to Hiro, feet padding on the floor as he stalked to the entrance of the room. “We must keep pressing if we are to have an advantage.”

[Martial Virtue]

First Lieutenant Laura Howard

Five minutes on the ground and Laura already hated Kholo. It was absolutely freezing, even in her thick winter BDUs. As if it weren't bad enough that the ODSTs were "dropping in" near the comms relay in Pelicans rather than their pods.

Get your head in the game, Howard, the Helljumper thought to herself then, brushing her internal complaints aside. Time to work. Just as she was bringing her M7 submachine gun to bear after waiting for the rest of the ODSTs to exit the Pelican around her, she heard her CO's voice over the COM.

“Troopers of the 105th. This is Major Foely. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far, because it’s just getting started.” The major paused. “A few hours ago, Covenant signatures were sighted all across the system, obviously. Upon our arrival, our good friends in the Navy found this Relay and a distress signal coming from it. We’re going to go shut it off. Wait for the signal, then hit the dirt. Load up in Warthogs and Mongooses. Once the vehicle is stuffed, head for the relay. Everyone remains in sight and in communications range. If you see trouble, speak up immediately. I’m going to attempt to get some Air Support, but we may have to go in solo.

“Air support or not, we’re going in. We travel by hog, secure the outpost, and hold it. Upon arrival to the Relay, I’ll have further instructions.

“Failure isn’t an option. Failure is never an option, Troopers. Load up, roll out, and let’s go rescue our damsel in distress.”


Lieutenant Howard nodded to herself as she keyed her COM. "Understood, sir. We'll get moving."

The LT found the nearest 'Hog and jogged over, jumping quickly into the shotgun seat. "Hold here for a sec, we've got another passenger to wait for," she said to the driver. Then she opened a channel again. "Corporal Fisher, move your ass. I've got a set of wheels waiting for ya."

[Dutch]

If Fisher ever heard someone bitch about the cold again, he would personally knock their daylights out. Five minutes on this damn planet and he could already feel his toes getting numb. Hopefully all the shooting and plasma would do their part to warm things up some more. Hell, he’d almost rather have been back in the pod shrieking towards the surface, at least it was warmer.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.” He called back over chattering teeth. Moving as quickly as he could, he ran over to the idling LRV, only to see the Lieutenant in shotgun seat, much to his disappointment.” Ah hell el-tee, why am I gunner? No pity for the recently recovered?”

“Quit your bitching Corporal; you survived after all.” Rhodes said over the COM.

“When you’ve been pinned to the rock with a damn spike then you can talk, now shut up.” Fisher retorted as he climbed onto the LAAG and strapped himself on, pulling back the charging handle to chamber the first of the hefty 12.9x99mm rounds.

[hollowsaber]

Major Salvatore Foely Commander of the 105th Helljumpers Battalion. Planet Kholo, 4km from Outpost Zeta.

Listening to the chatter across the Battalion-channel, Foely found some calm in it. He listened silently to his leaders give their orders, and the troopers below them follow through. He never knew why, but listening to the war-talk of Marines always settled his head some. Even with the biting cold all around him, Foely completely forgot about the war. Warfare to him was like a song, and one that he would dance to any day of his life. He’d never give it up.

Ahead, Foely began to see the Outpost break the white-out wall. The massive dish that stuck out was visible much further away, but now Foely could see the actual building. Plasma and lead were being exchanged heavily as the defending Marines held their ground. Those men and women has some balls, and Foely respected that. With their backs against the wall, they continued to fight.

As he thought, another voice cut into the channel. From the sound of it, Foely’s request had pulled through.

"Major, Kholo Air Traffic had redirected a flight of three Vulture Gunships. Plans changed, air-traffic has my flight heading you way. ETA, forty minutes. Might I ask what you are up against anyways, Major?"

“We don’t have forty minutes Pilot. I need you boys to kick it in gear. We’re coming up on the Outpost, and we’ll be there in less then 10. If your gunships aren’t overhead, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to take it. We’re going against the Covenant, but I have no knowledge of their numbers. We’re prepared for the worst, but hopefully when we come rumbling over the hill; they won’t know what hit them.” Foely hefted himself up onto the top of his seat, putting one of his boots on the dashboard to keep himself steady.

Activating his VISR, Foely was able to see straight through the blizzard, and the Relay outpost became outlined in a bright green. Taking a look around, Foely’s VISR also registered his battalion, the location of his company leaders, and key people inside of the numbers. When Foely joined up years ago, he never thought he’d be leading this many people, but it felt good.

“I need you to do whatever you can, Pilot. I don’t want to show up guns-blazing and get pinned down like fools. We’ve got the boots, we’ve got the numbers, but soldiers on the ground by themselves always ends with a lot of casualties. And once the Covenant get the upper hand, it’s pretty difficult to get it back.” Foely checked his battle rifle and pulled back the chamber-rail, checking to make sure the fire round was in correctly. With a snap, the chamber shut again and Foely looked up to the Relay. With a slow breath, Foely flashed the red acknowledgment light to shut up the battalion. Taking a careful seat again, Foely got comfortable for the coming bumpy-ride.

“Here we go 105th! We’re coming up on the Relay! Air support is 40 minutes out, so once we get there, we’re by ourselves for a little while. But that shouldn’t matter. When the flyboys get here, I want that relay secured from the inside out!” Foely pulled up his TACPAD on his wrist and on his VISR, laying the maps on top of each other so he could get a good view of them.

“I don’t know where the Covenant are, but I do know that our Marine brothers are holding their ground from the looks of it. Expect casualties when we come over the crest of the hill to the relay. We’ll be open targets until we can get some cover. Use the Warthogs to your advantage. If you’re going down, take ten of those bastards with you.” Foely scanned over the map as he spoke, getting a decent look over the area of the relay by what the Navy had provided.

((I will provide a map shortly. Get prepped and ready to strike ODSTs. Covenant; be ready to fight. ODST Platoon/Squad leaders; Once I provide a map, I will be issuing orders for everyone. When everyone is ready, I'll give the orders and we'll start this thing. Sorry for the checkpoint type of thing, I'm letting every post who wants to post before we start the fight.))

[Deleted]

“We don’t have forty minutes Pilot. I need you boys to kick it in gear. We’re coming up on the Outpost, and we’ll be there in less then 10. If your gunships aren’t overhead, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to take it. We’re going against the Covenant, but I have no knowledge of their numbers. We’re prepared for the worst, but hopefully when we come rumbling over the hill; they won’t know what hit them.” The Major said, “I need you to do whatever you can, Pilot. I don’t want to show up guns-blazing and get pinned down like fools. We’ve got the boots, we’ve got the numbers, but soldiers on the ground by themselves always ends with a lot of casualties. And once the Covenant get the upper hand, it’s pretty difficult to get it back.” The Major added

"Yes, sir. Well divert all non-essential power to our engines. I can push my reactors, put them into after-burners and make up some time. Will be there when ever we get there, sir." The Captain said, putting in some numbers. To his surprise, the counter actually lost eleven minutes. "Will be there in twenty-nine minutes." The Captain added, hoping that the Major could hold out that long.

It would be nine to fifteen minutes before the Vultures got to there position, so hopefully the 105th could actually make something happen, raise hell and leave the Vultures picking off the targets that they needed. "Major, we'll wait for designations before we fire. We have a pull payload, so use our resources if you need." The Captain said.

[Dutch]

"This is control, you are cleared for lunch. Better hurry up and get airborne Lieutenant, those marines could sure use a hand."

"Copy that control, I'm just on the tarmac now, will be airborne shortly." Flight Lieutenant James Dosh said into his mike. Stopping next to the hornet, he slid back the canopy and climbed on in, glad to get out of the biting wind. Sliding the canopy shut -and glad he had the VTOL already warmed up- he went through a checkoff list of all systems.

Lights, controls, weapons, everything checked off. He got back on the channel. "This is Tango Six, I've got green across the border, Tango flight please check off."

"Tango one, ready to go."

"Tango two, hot and loaded."

"Tango three is ready to fly.

"Tango four, I'm good to go."

"Tango five, take us away boss." All five pilots sounded off. Dosh got back on the comms.

"Tango flight is ready for liftoff, send us up at your leisure control."

"Copy that Lieutenant, you have a green light. The skies are yours, good hunting."

“Thanks Control, Tango flight is lifting off.” Dosh said with glee as he revved up the engine power, taking his Hornet VTOL into a swooshing descent off the freezing ground and into the crisp sky. The rest of his flight rose off behind him, falling into a loose formation.

A waypoint popped up on Dosh’s HUD, painting the way towards the comm relay, the objective. Turning gently towards it, Dosh read the ODST commander's name off his HUD. "Major Foely this is Flight Lieutenant Dosh. Me and my flight is en-route to the comms relay to provide air support for you guys. ETA to the target area is about twenty minutes, over and out."

[hollowsaber]

UPDATE:

Seeing as I am no longer staff, I am no longer in a position to lead an entire battalion. So I am yoinking Foely. Continue with the mission as you all see fit, but currently; I don't feel like leading anything on this site, so I'm not going to. For now, there is no ODST leader until someone in the Staff decides to take over the ODSTs. Sorry ladies and gentlemen.

[Kenny]

Hundreds Of Miles Off Planet

Brna Field Master

The legion leader paced around the room he was in. He made a mental checklist of orders. He had already told the creche in Kholo city to take care of the humans around that pod, the group of soldiers were on their way to the information in the crashed cruiser, and the digsite was lost. All that remained was the comms station. He changed his channel before speaking in to his microphone,

"Hiro, could you get your men to the front of the station, put one lance at each entrance and tell them to guard it with their life. They should be told to immediatly tell you if they see the enemy approaching. Meanwhile you and another lance should go to where you see the most of the enemies coming. The remainder of your creche should stay inside the station and keep it secured. Now the main focus for you is to gather all the large weaponry you can and take out any vehicles you can, discourage the enemy by getting rid of their power. Once the warriors from the other creche come listen to the one who was appointed by me on their role."

Brna could feel the plan coming together in his mind as he switched channels to just the ultra from the other creche. "Don't question the tactics of Hiro, he was appointed by me. I want you and one lance to help out at the station, listen to the members of the other creche who need help. While you and one lance are doing that, I want the rest of your warriors to aid the members of the other creche in the main entrance to the station. While they are firing at the vehicles, I want you to move up. Now act assured and make rash desicions. I don't want any of your men getting killed! The purpose of this is to make the humans think we have many soldiers and lower their hopes of winning this already futile battle." The field master switched over to the communications for that entire battle, "you have your orders, follow them. Though remember the Holy Inquisitor Sorsa has full command and may deny my orders."

With that the Sangheili watched the three battles play out, hoping each one of his moves would aid the battle. It was time to make a comeback and stop the enemy from advancing any further then they already have. Brna had already been devastated by the loss of the Scarab and dig site, he would not be forced to grieve for any more.

[Deleted]

(( OOC: If no one posts by May 1st, this thread will be locked so UNSC and Covenant PC characters can move on. ))

[Spartan 999]

Special Operations Inquisitor Sorsa 'Xirsasai

[/center]

Sorsa approached Hiro, hands gripping his burst rifle reassuringly.

"I will take a small lance of your best warriors with me to keep pressing the humans here back." He rumbled, face impassive behind his helmet. "The rest of the creche can work on fortifying what ground we've gained and carrying out the Field Master's orders."

[Deleted]

M5 is now holding PC Players back.

If no one posts by 11/05/2012, this will be locked.