Halo: Eclipse (IC/Reboot/OPEN)

[Dernland]

“Tucker. A new asset I suppose.” The Lieutenant extended his hand for Ghost to shake and Ghost, only going with protocol, returned the gesture. Ghost cocked his head at Ethan's statement. Yes, I think 'asset' is the right word for it. He didn't respond, partly because he didn't have anything to say and partly because he flat out couldn't.

“Glad to have you aboard. I take it you just arrived? I was on my way to the mess hall. If there’s something I could help you with you’re welcomed to come along.”
Ghost tilted his head downward, a look of confusion flashing across his otherwise stoic face. The only thing he needed was to find the medical bay to pass along his medical records. The real problem was that he couldn't communicate to anyone on how to get there. I suppose I should follow him, someone in the mess should be heading to the medical bay. I really need to learn sign language, or get an A.I. Ghost turned sharply and followed the Lieutenant to the mess. He grabbed a bit of food and found a quiet place to sit and eat. He reached up and clicked the seals on his helmet, sliding it off of his head. Ghost liked to keep his helmet and armor on as much as possible, just in case the hull broke; but he couldn't eat through his helmet's visor, even when it was depolarized.

[Ubaria]

" You ever kill Innies before?.....I remember my first.... Do you remember the Elysium City crackdown?"

Dragan poured himself a full shot glass of whiskey and stared down into it as he swilled it around.

"I remember seeing reports of it. I wasn't there myself" He replied just before downing the glass, wincing as its taste stung the back of his throat.

"Strong stuff" He commented.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

" You ever kill Innies before?.....I remember my first.... Do you remember the Elysium City crackdown?"

Dragan poured himself a full shot glass of whiskey and stared down into it as he swilled it around.

"I remember seeing reports of it. I wasn't there myself" He replied just before downing the glass, wincing as its taste stung the back of his throat.

"Strong stuff" He commented.

"I was just out of......ODST Basic; had a slot on MARSOC.....but they wanted a test before I could get in. So I was.......shipped...to....Elysium with three of my buddies......"

Bressler sighed as he checked to make sure his BR-55 was fully loaded as the transport Hog bounced it's way down the rows of orderly and neat suburban streets. The young private sat in the back as he held his rifle with one hand and death gripped a handhold with another while hoping that his cover and sunglasses didn't fly off. The private gave a glance to the brightly burning sun above that was blotted out by the mass of the UNSC light frigate [i]Scorpio and it's complement of Pelicans which were leaving the docking bays and vectoring in on multiple locations throughout the city.

"There's the house" The driver said as he stopped right in front of the small blocky, two story structure, and allowed the four passengers in ODST armor and BDU's to dismount. "Remember, we're making an example of them"

The four didn't acknowledge the reminder as they moved down the small walkway that bisected the neatly trimmed and toy strewn lawn to reach the front door. The team moved in a diamond shape with Bressler bringing up the rear, as the squad leader reached the door and raised a booted feet to kick the wooden door; the foot hit the door with a Crack as the door splintered and gave under the force allowing the team to move inside.

"UNSC!!UNSC!!" the squad leader shouted as he and a marine moved to the left into what was a living room as Bressler and his companion moved right and encountered a table full of food and occupied by two women and six men who had brought their heads up to gape at the two armored soldiers that had burst into the room. The spell was broken however, as without any communication four people closest to the marines reached to their backs and inside their jackets as the other's flipped the table towards the marines as they dove behind the piece of cover. Bressler brought his rifle up and centered the scope on a man who had cleared a much abused M6 from his jacket before the ODST pulled the trigger and sent three rounds into his chest. The man's knees buckled and fell as Bressler's companion fired twice and took down a women who had been withdrawing something from her waist; however the shock was over as the two still standing withdrew their sidearms and fired as well as the four behind the table.

Bressler felt the rounds slap his chest armor and scrambled out of the line of fire and back to the entryway as his partner jerked as the rounds found the unarmored parts in the armor. The rapid fire of pistols was soon drowned out by the hoarse chatter of assault rifle fire as the team leader and his marine flanked the Innie's and took them down amid a storm of flying lead. Bressler took a deep breath as he stood up and walked towards the pair of marines who were currently examining the bodies as the squad leader keyed his radio.

"One Casualty and eight hostiles down, need a clean up crew-" the squad leader never finished his report as the first man Bressler shot suddenly rolled over and held up a live and armed M-9 fragmentation grenade.

"Sh*t move!!!!!" Bressler yelled as he moved towards a window looking over the backyard as the explosion sounded and the marine found himself flying as he broke through the window and found himself sprawled on the backyard on his stomach with his rifle lying on the ground ten feet in front of him with his sunglasses which had a downgraded HUD gone. The creaking of a door opening followed by rapid sound of footsteps on grass sounded as two pairs of feet appeared in Bressler's vision as the ran from the house towards the rear fence; one pair slowed down enough to scoop Bressler's rifle off of the ground as they ran out an open gate and onto the street. With a groan Bressler hauled himself to his feet as he touched his earpiece and moved to the gate."This is Golf 8-4; I have one KIA and two possible WIA. I have possible targets fleeing and need assistance"

Bressler moved through the gate only to step back as the rattle of a battle rifle sounded and a burst tore into the concrete road.

"Stay back!!!!" a voice resounded as Bressler gave a peak around a corner and saw a man holding his rifle standing on top of a civilian car as a women was fiddling with something in the back seat. Bressler drew his sidearm and took a breath as he backed up a bit and ran towards the gate before stopping as he ticked and rolled; the rifle sounded again but the rounds tore into a place behind the marine. However, he was not used to this maneuver and instead of stopping on his feet he ended up stopping on his side where he skidded along the concrete road right into the open. The rifleman on the car was moving to acquire the open target when Bressler brought his sidearm up and squeezed the trigger twice taking the man first in the chest then the head. The man went limp as he toppled off the car and caused the woman to stand up to see her dead companion; as soon she did Bressler stroked the trigger and her head was surrounded by a red mist before she fell out of sight. Bressler moved to reclaim his rifle and used the weapon to put extra rounds into the two corpses before he turned to move back to the house where the sound of sirens was beginning to grow.[/i]

"They let me in after that, said that it was due to events out of my control." Bressler said as he summed up his story. " Always wondered where those three men would be if I had hit that first head shot."

Bressler had sobered up somewhat over the course of the tale as he let the corporal have his turn with the bottle.

"I think I'm going to go hit the rack. feel free to polish that off." Bressler said as he stumbled slightly on his way out of the rec room with his cover titled precariously on his head.

[New Grestin]

Carol paused for a moment, then turned to Thorne.

"Hey, I think I forgot something back in the barracks. I'll be right back."

She sighed, wandering back towards the barracks and popping open her bag. She dug around for a moment, recovering a small ring. She thumbed it over for a moment, then slipped it into her pocket. Her father had given it to her just a month before he'd been killed. It was something they'd been passing down the family for years, even before she was born. Apparently it was from back on Earth. She smiled at the thought and stood, walking back out into the hall.

Voices drew her attention to the rec room. Curious, Carol wandered that way, overhearing Bressler and Dragan discussing war stories inside. She sighed. Let them have their circle jerk, I'm going to get something to eat-

"You ever kill Innies before?.....I remember my first.... Do you remember the Elysium City crackdown?"

Her mind screamed to a halt, her heart skipping beat. She slid on to the wall next to the doorway and listened.

"I remember seeing reports of it. I wasn't there myself"

"Strong stuff"

Bressler started talking.

"I was just out of......ODST Basic; had a slot on MARSOC.....but they wanted a test before I could get in. So I was.......shipped...to....Elysium with three of my buddies......"

Carol listened in for quite some time, unsure of what to think. Her mind wandered back, trying to recall her memories of that day.

---

"Carol, just keep your head down, I'll be right back."

Her father's voice. He grabs a rifle and steps atop the car. Another man yells to him. Shooting. Blood. Her mother hung over her, holding her close. Bullets riddled the woman, her body going limp atop Carol's. She didn't scream, she didn't move. She didn't want to die. Her mother choked something out, but she couldn't recall what she said. She'd like to think she was saying she loved her, or something profound, but it was probably just a death rattle.

---

She snapped out of her stupor just long enough for her mind to make the connection. Bressler spoke once more.

"They let me in after that, said that it was due to events out of my control."

" Always wondered where those three men would be if I had hit that first head shot."

He paused for a moment, then she heard movement. He was leaving.

"I think I'm going to go hit the rack. feel free to polish that off."

Carol was simmering with anger. Everything clicked. Her memories hadn't failed her. The voice, the shooting, that man. That man was Bressler. As he walked out of the rec room, Carol casually lit a cigarette and spoke to him. Her tone was cold, eyes betraying rage.

"Interesting story. Tell me, you ever run into any kids out there? You kill them too?"

Her gaze met his. Anger sweltered in her veins. Her hand almost instinctively went for her knife, but she stopped herself. The reasonable side was fighting back. Just talk to him, for god's sake. There has to be a reasonable explanation. She stepped off the wall and took a long drag.

"You know, now that I think about it, my parents got bumped off in a pretty similar raid, but you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Her tone had turned angry once again, sarcasm barely concealing it.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Carol paused for a moment, then turned to Thorne.

"Hey, I think I forgot something back in the barracks. I'll be right back."

She sighed, wandering back towards the barracks and popping open her bag. She dug around for a moment, recovering a small ring. She thumbed it over for a moment, then slipped it into her pocket. Her father had given it to her just a month before he'd been killed. It was something they'd been passing down the family for years, even before she was born. Apparently it was from back on Earth. She smiled at the thought and stood, walking back out into the hall.

Voices drew her attention to the rec room. Curious, Carol wandered that way, overhearing Bressler and Dragan discussing war stories inside. She sighed. Let them have their circle jerk, I'm going to get something to eat-

"You ever kill Innies before?.....I remember my first.... Do you remember the Elysium City crackdown?"

Her mind screamed to a halt, her heart skipping beat. She slid on to the wall next to the doorway and listened.

"I remember seeing reports of it. I wasn't there myself"

"Strong stuff"

Bressler started talking.

"I was just out of......ODST Basic; had a slot on MARSOC.....but they wanted a test before I could get in. So I was.......shipped...to....Elysium with three of my buddies......"

Carol listened in for quite some time, unsure of what to think. Her mind wandered back, trying to recall her memories of that day.

---

"Carol, just keep your head down, I'll be right back."

Her father's voice. He grabs a rifle and steps atop the car. Another man yells to him. Shooting. Blood. Her mother hung over her, holding her close. Bullets riddled the woman, her body going limp atop Carol's. She didn't scream, she didn't move. She didn't want to die. Her mother choked something out, but she couldn't recall what she said. She'd like to think she was saying she loved her, or something profound, but it was probably just a death rattle.

---

She snapped out of her stupor just long enough for her mind to make the connection. Bressler spoke once more.

"They let me in after that, said that it was due to events out of my control."

" Always wondered where those three men would be if I had hit that first head shot."

He paused for a moment, then she heard movement. He was leaving.

"I think I'm going to go hit the rack. feel free to polish that off."

Carol was simmering with anger. Everything clicked. Her memories hadn't failed her. The voice, the shooting, that man. That man was Bressler. As he walked out of the rec room, Carol casually lit a cigarette and spoke to him. Her tone was cold, eyes betraying rage.

"Interesting story. Tell me, you ever run into any kids out there? You kill them too?"

Her gaze met his. Anger sweltered in her veins. Her hand almost instinctively went for her knife, but she stopped herself. The reasonable side was fighting back. Just talk to him, for god's sake. There has to be a reasonable explanation. She stepped off the wall and took a long drag.

"You know, now that I think about it, my parents got bumped off in a pretty similar raid, but you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Her tone had turned angry once again, sarcasm barely concealing it.

"Maybe I would corporal." Bressler said as he straightened as best as he could as he brushed his sidearm's grip. "But I don't recall who I killed during that ordeal, just the fact three of my friends went home in buckets; and to answer you first question I don't kill kids, at least not the way you think."

With that Bressler left the corporal as he made his way to his quarters and his bunk which seemed to call to him.

[New Grestin]

"Maybe I would corporal." Bressler said as he straightened as best as he could as he brushed his sidearm's grip. "But I don't recall who I killed during that ordeal, just the fact three of my friends went home in buckets; and to answer you first question I don't kill kids, at least not the way you think."

With that Bressler left the corporal as he made his way to his quarters and his bunk which seemed to call to him.

"Yeah? Well maybe your friends deserved it."

She shook her head and walked away. Her mind seemed to swim, unsure of what to think. Here she was, out of all the places in the universe, stuck on a ship with the very man who shot her parent. She sighed. No, when the time comes, he'll pay. She nodded and headed back into the cafeteria, where Thorne was waiting for her. Cleaning herself up, Carol slid in next to him and spoke.

"Sorry, almost forgot about that."

A brief pause, then she spoke again.

"You were, uh, saying?"

[Taigawa]

Once aboard the ship, Felicia made her way to the bridge, giving her name and purpose for being there when asked. She wanted to meet her superiors first, and then get a tour where she'd learn where she would be sleeping, where the cafeteria was, and most importantly, where she could and couldn't go. Once there, she approached the one who looked like the commander and soluted him. "Lt Felicia Haungji, ODST, Reporting for duty." she said calmly, trying to not be too formal in tone but also trying not to make it sound like she'd rehearsed it.

[Feroxi]

Thorne didn't bother to fetch food; at least, not for himself, any way. He had grabbed the Corporal an apple while she was gone, trying to be somewhat considerate. The Spartan stared at the apple. It was bright red in color and splotched with a couple blemishes here and there across its smooth surface. He assumed the marks meant that this was real fruit grown from the soil of a planet, like Reach, and not some genetically engineered product. Footsteps, the melodic thumps of boot on metal, could be heard as Carol returned to the mess hall. He turned his gaze toward her.


She definitely seemed to be... disturbed, even more so than before. It almost made him laugh when he thought about how hard she tried to cover it up. Sadly, lies and faked emotions didn't last long around Spartans. Sniffing out deceit was beaten into his psyche long ago.

Thorne tossed her the apple and deftly dodged her urging to talk more about himself, "Something wrong? Definitely seems like it."

He immediately realized that the statement could've been taken the wrong way, "Not that there's something wrong with you, it's just," he stopped mid sentence. Finally, he just let out a dry chuckle and visibly relaxed, "You know what I mean."

[Beiarusia]

"Lt Felicia Haungji, ODST, Reporting for duty."

“... and that’s why-” Shepherd was cut off as the bridge doors slid open, a tall woman stepping inside and saluting. The captain turned away from Welles, whom he had been conversing with, and swiveled in his chair to better look at the new arrival, somewhat annoyed that everyone seemed to be reporting to the ship’s bridge. He waved her salute away. “Don’t salute me. I take it you’re looking for your CO? Well he ain’t here, and before you ask I don’t know where he went.”

“The Lieutenant is currently in the mess hall,” informed Dawn, materializing over the right holo-projector, adjusting her glasses.

Shepherd turned away from Haungji, not bothering to glance over to the A.I. but more so to end whatever conversation would be taking place. “There you go. I’ll have an ensign show you around.”

Ethan grabbed a bit of food and sat at a table with Tucker, the man finally removing his helmet to eat himself. The spook was a bit pale, no doubt from spending most of his time locked away within his armor, looking right now a tiny bit uncomfortable with the protective shell compromised, a small flicker of emotioning that Ethan wasn’t entirely sure he had imagined seeing or not.

“You don’t talk much do you,” Ethan stated more than asked, taking a bite of his meal, finding it to be of a better quality than what was on most ships he had served aboard. As somewhat expected the man said nothing, and the two ate in silence.

Looking around the mess hall Ethan saw that there was finally some life to the ship. While not packed wall to wall at least half of the generous amount of tables were filled with conversing soldiers and crewmen, some chatting animatedly amongst themselves and some showing a bit more reservation. It was definitely an improvement from a few days ago, when the Memento Mori had quite literally been a ghost ship.

“You… uh, mind if we-”

Ethan glanced over to his left and saw a young woman standing beside the table, red in the face and stuttering her words. Before she could falter some more a man slipped pass and sat on the bench, the woman trying to offer some protest but ultimately being shot down, sitting opposite the man and next to Tucker.

Kruger did not seem the type for war. Perhaps spineless wasn’t the right word but she most certainly wasn’t the most forceful of people. Despite that she had held her own aboard the freighter, so maybe there was something to her that Ethan was missing. Dawn would have her records if he wanted more answers.

Bradford was just a punk in all honesty. Brash and just overall rude, he was often with Kruger and despite their supposed camaraderie, it seemed like a one-sided relationship. He was capable but not likely someone to be handpicked by ONI.

Ethan introduced them to Tucker who remained silent but at least appeared to acknowledge the two soldiers. Krueger stuttered an embarrassed greeting while Bradford stared down the spook, seeming to not particularly like the man.

The soldiers continued to eat. Kruger attempted to hold a conversation but was constantly undermined by Bradford while Tucker said not a word. Ethan managed to participate to some degree but allowed the others to do most of the talking. Finishing their meals they were soon approached by another soldier, he looking as he had just run the entirety of the ship which he most likely had.

Folk paused to catch his breath before speaking. “Bressler wanted everyone to meet him in the rec hall. Didn’t tell me why.”

Couldn’t have been too important as Bressler seemed the type to handle things himself instead of sending an underling. With nothing better to do at this moment the soldiers stood to leave, Ethan motioning for Tucker to come along, feeling it would be rude to simply abandon the man.

The five didn’t make it far before running into another asset of ONI. Standing there in full armor was a Spartan. Ethan had heard the stories but had never had the privilege of meeting one face to face, and now here he was with a Spartan under his command. Bradford and Folk seemed similarly surprised whilst Kruger stared off and in awe. More surprising was that Deckard had already made his acquaintance and that she looked positively awful right now, as if she had just only now seen a ghost from her past.

Ethan was the first to move forward, the others snapping to and following in his wake. He greeted the pair. “I didn’t know ONI was sending a Spartan. Lieutenant Woods, commander of this little fun fest. Guessing things just got a whole lot easier with you aboard.” He glanced over to Deckard who held an apple in her hand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything good?”

It wasn’t that he was particularly close to Deckard but he truly was concerned. He was the CO and their lives were on his hands, and having one’s mind elsewhere was a sure-fire way to end up getting killed.

[Ubaria]

Dragan helped himself to some more whiskey as the Gunny told his story, an insurrectionist raid gone somewhat wrong. Dragan had only fought against insurrectionists when we was part of the Sansar Colonial Militia, and the skirmishes there were nothing like what happened on other planets. His first kill wasn't anything to brag about though, it was a raid of a farm that ended up with more fatalities than wounded, the boy couldn't have been older than himself, 19 at the time. It was him or Dragan, the gun had already been pulled, there wasn't any going back.

With that Bressler rose to his feet shakily and handed Dragan the bottle. "I think I'm going to go hit the rack. feel free to polish that off." He mumbled and simply shuffled on out the door, but paused to exchange some words with Carol, who seemed to be visibly angry. Dragan didn't pry and poured himself another shot of whiskey, attempting to forget that there was a war going on. A scary thought, that somewhere right now, the Covenant were seigeing another world, burning it to the ground, putting its occupants to the sword, and what were ONI doing about it? Shooting up a bunch of underpaid and oppressed farmers.

[Vacif]

After thoroughly polishing his plate, he deposited his tray into the "Dirty Bin". He still didn't know what to call it. Leaving the galley, he wandered the halls for a bit, trying to think of something to do. 'Mhm...Guess I should hit the gym...' he thought to himself, but as he made his way down the grey halls his realized he didn't know where he was going. He knew where the barracks, galley, armory, and bridge were, but not everything else. He wasn't exactly accustomed to the Paris-Class, let alone one modified by ONI. He'd served on a Marathon-Class for his entire career until now, and those things had pretty much everything. He wasn't sure if a smaller ship like the Memento had such facilities. But seeing as he wasn't accustomed to the ship, and had free time, he decided to explore the ship.

[Merodin]

Recreation Hall, UNSC Memento Mori
SFC. Elizabeth and Lt. Artanis Sylvari

The cracking of the colorful triangle rang around the room as the prey scattered across the green. Two predators slunk around the field on opposing sides, each carrying their chosen spear of choice. They were waiting to see which of their quarries would dart in their hole first. The two looked near identical, save for the difference of gender. The long brown hair of one was tied back in a ponytail, trailing down her back just below her shoulders. The other's was short and had a look of being naturally unkempt. Their eyes were the most telling, both the same hue of greenish blue just like their mother's. The clacking of the balls as they hit into one another left a commotion that only dulled the sounds of the jazz playing over the radio resting on a nearby table with their drinks. Eventually the satisfying thunk of one of the balls falling into a hole was heard.

"Stripes." said the woman, hefting her cue stick to walk around the billiards table.

"Of course it is." the man leaning against the side sighed, smiling. "You're always stripes."

"You got a problem with that?" came the smug reply followed by a sharp crack as the balls made contact again.

"No, I didn't say that." the man pointed out before a second thud announced the sinking of another ball. "I just never win when I'm stripes."

"Ah, so it's your balls' fault is it?" the woman smirked as she let the white ball fly across the table to sink another stripe.

"Hey," chuckled the man, raising an accusing finger at her. "You leave those two out of this. They've been through enough of your shit."

"Can't leave out something you never had, brother dearest." Elizabeth quipped back, sinking another ball into the pocket in front of her brother.

"Oh, below the belt, El." laughed Arty as he stepped out of her way. He watched from behind her as she took aim. "So, how do you like my Sinatra collection? It's glorious, innit?"

"Argh, damnit!" Elizabeth cursed, as the ball she'd been aiming for avoided the pocket. "What, sorry?"

"Sinatra, you like?" Arty winked at her, enjoying it immensely that she'd missed. To be honest, he'd not known whether she'd even give him the chance to play.

"Who doesn't?" she answered back, watching as Arty took aim at one of the solids. He hit it and it went in. "Lucky shot." she grumbled, rolling her eyes as he held his arms open to her with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Nah, sweetheart, that was all skill." he stuck his tongue out at her, and continued.

Much of the game continued this way, each taking shots at the other. This was the twins' usual dance, poking at each other to test their wit. It was a fun game that they'd done since they were kids on Earth though it'd annoyed the hell out of their parents. To neither's surprise, Elizabeth won the game again making it now 23 and 0. She went about the table, pulling the balls out of their pockets and rolling them down toward her brother who was putting them in the triangle.

"I break this time." Arty huffed as he leaned across to grab a ball in the middle of the green velvet.

"You still won't win." Elizabeth sang, teasingly. Glancing over towards the bar, Arty caught sight of some troops exchanging what sounded like war stories. He couldn't quite hear all of what they were saying over Sinatra and Arty's shuffling of the balls, but just looking at both of them he could tell that they'd seen some shit. One of the two stood up and headed for the door.

"Hey, you know those two, El?" he asked, jutting his chin in their direction at the counter, giving the one that had stayed a friendly wave.

"Hmm?" She followed his gaze then shook her head and went back to chalking her cue. "Yeah, that Jaime. He transferred over from the ISS Albatross, apparently the ship got hit pretty hard while defending some colony on the frontier. Actually, he thinks ONI was behind the whole thing." She looked at him expectantly.

"I've no idea." he shrugged, nonchalantly. "I don't know everything that happens in the Neontyr Quadrant."

Elizabeth rested her hand on her hip, clearing her throat pointedly. "Really, the Neontyr Quadrant? Why would ONI be involved that far out on the frontier? I mean, that's really pushing their jurisdiction isn't it?"

"Hey, listen." Arty raised his hands defensively, knowing where his sister was going. "I'm sure ONI had their reasoning, I trust them."

Elizabeth snorted. "Ha, you trust too much."That's always been your problem."

He answered just as quickly, taking his turn to rub the blue chalk against his cue stick. "And you, too little. Hear me out, maybe it was exactly what Jaime said or there was something on that planet that ONI needed secure. It's either nothing or above my pay grade."

With that the two quickly fell back into their game of pool as the Sinatra continued over the radio. Eventually 0600 cam around and the two had to leave their game, a jaw-dropping 45-0 score though Arty would never get around to admitting it, and they left for their bunks. The two had already dressed themselves for the day and merely had to report in by their bunks. They were bunked next to each other, much to both's excitement. They'd been separated for such a long while that it was heartening to be so close now.

[Taigawa]

"Lt Felicia Haungji, ODST, Reporting for duty."

“... and that’s why-” Shepherd was cut off as the bridge doors slid open, a tall woman stepping inside and saluting. The captain turned away from Welles, whom he had been conversing with, and swiveled in his chair to better look at the new arrival, somewhat annoyed that everyone seemed to be reporting to the ship’s bridge. He waved her salute away. “Don’t salute me. I take it you’re looking for your CO? Well he ain’t here, and before you ask I don’t know where he went.”

“The Lieutenant is currently in the mess hall,” informed Dawn, materializing over the right holo-projector, adjusting her glasses.

Shepherd turned away from Haungji, not bothering to glance over to the A.I. but more so to end whatever conversation would be taking place. “There you go. I’ll have an ensign show you around.”

Ethan grabbed a bit of food and sat at a table with Tucker, the man finally removing his helmet to eat himself. The spook was a bit pale, no doubt from spending most of his time locked away within his armor, looking right now a tiny bit uncomfortable with the protective shell compromised, a small flicker of emotioning that Ethan wasn’t entirely sure he had imagined seeing or not.

“You don’t talk much do you,” Ethan stated more than asked, taking a bite of his meal, finding it to be of a better quality than what was on most ships he had served aboard. As somewhat expected the man said nothing, and the two ate in silence.

Looking around the mess hall Ethan saw that there was finally some life to the ship. While not packed wall to wall at least half of the generous amount of tables were filled with conversing soldiers and crewmen, some chatting animatedly amongst themselves and some showing a bit more reservation. It was definitely an improvement from a few days ago, when the Memento Mori had quite literally been a ghost ship.

“You… uh, mind if we-”

Ethan glanced over to his left and saw a young woman standing beside the table, red in the face and stuttering her words. Before she could falter some more a man slipped pass and sat on the bench, the woman trying to offer some protest but ultimately being shot down, sitting opposite the man and next to Tucker.

Kruger did not seem the type for war. Perhaps spineless wasn’t the right word but she most certainly wasn’t the most forceful of people. Despite that she had held her own aboard the freighter, so maybe there was something to her that Ethan was missing. Dawn would have her records if he wanted more answers.

Bradford was just a punk in all honesty. Brash and just overall rude, he was often with Kruger and despite their supposed camaraderie, it seemed like a one-sided relationship. He was capable but not likely someone to be handpicked by ONI.

Ethan introduced them to Tucker who remained silent but at least appeared to acknowledge the two soldiers. Krueger stuttered an embarrassed greeting while Bradford stared down the spook, seeming to not particularly like the man.

The soldiers continued to eat. Kruger attempted to hold a conversation but was constantly undermined by Bradford while Tucker said not a word. Ethan managed to participate to some degree but allowed the others to do most of the talking. Finishing their meals they were soon approached by another soldier, he looking as he had just run the entirety of the ship which he most likely had.

Folk paused to catch his breath before speaking. “Bressler wanted everyone to meet him in the rec hall. Didn’t tell me why.”

Couldn’t have been too important as Bressler seemed the type to handle things himself instead of sending an underling. With nothing better to do at this moment the soldiers stood to leave, Ethan motioning for Tucker to come along, feeling it would be rude to simply abandon the man.

The five didn’t make it far before running into another asset of ONI. Standing there in full armor was a Spartan. Ethan had heard the stories but had never had the privilege of meeting one face to face, and now here he was with a Spartan under his command. Bradford and Folk seemed similarly surprised whilst Kruger stared off and in awe. More surprising was that Deckard had already made his acquaintance and that she looked positively awful right now, as if she had just only now seen a ghost from her past.

Ethan was the first to move forward, the others snapping to and following in his wake. He greeted the pair. “I didn’t know ONI was sending a Spartan. Lieutenant Woods, commander of this little fun fest. Guessing things just got a whole lot easier with you aboard.” He glanced over to Deckard who held an apple in her hand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything good?”

It wasn’t that he was particularly close to Deckard but he truly was concerned. He was the CO and their lives were on his hands, and having one’s mind elsewhere was a sure-fire way to end up getting killed.

Somewhat satisfied, Felicia turned tail and left in a manner rather unceremonious compared to how she'd entered. She followed the ensign to the messhall, taking note of any signs she saw. Once there, she found and introduced herself to him in the same manner she did on the bridge. Her pose was rather stoic, and other then her introduction, she said nothing else.

[New Grestin]

Thorne tossed her the apple and deftly dodged her urging to talk more about himself, "Something wrong? Definitely seems like it."

He immediately realized that the statement could've been taken the wrong way, "Not that there's something wrong with you, it's just," he stopped mid sentence. Finally, he just let out a dry chuckle and visibly relaxed, "You know what I mean."

She grabbed the apple and took a deep breath. Every fiber of her body shrieked in anguish. Her mind flashed back and forth in time a thousand times before she finally snapped out of it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Dark thoughts clouded her head. Her parents were dead at his hand and she was working with him? No. No, that would not do. That would not do at all. Retribution was needed. Of course, she couldn't just up and kill him. That'd be suicidal. It needed to be subtle, it needed to-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything good?”

For brief moment, the words resounded in her mind, yet it failed to register. She shook it off and turned to Ethan, throwing on a fake smile.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine, really."

She fixed her hair, awkwardly, trying to pretend she wasn't planning anything. Leaning against the wall, she continued.

"Where, uh, are you guys going?"

[Dernland]

Ghost
UNSC Memento Mori, Reach orbit, Epsilon Eridani
2143 hours, 15 October 2549 Military Calendar

“You don’t talk much do you,” Ghost's silent meal was broken by Ethan's comment. He turned to face his Lieutenant, his face blank, but then returned to his meal. I suppose I don't. Have you tried? The Spartan's voice again. I stopped trying a long time ago.. She always tried to cheer him up, to keep him sane. It wasn't working.

“You… uh, mind if we-” A woman's voice echoed from Ghost's left. He ignored her, she was most likely speaking to Ethan. The next thing Ghost knew the woman sat beside him, opposite a rather tough looking man. Ethan introduced the two, Specialist Rachel Kruger and Corporal Zach Bradford. Bradford seemed to dislike Ghost, for obvious reasons; whereas Kruger just seemed shy.

"What branch are you from? If... if you don't mind me asking?" Kruger asked, stumbling over her words. Ghost just raised a questioning eyebrow and pointed at the ONI symbol on his breastplate. "Oh..." Ghost tuned himself out of the painful conversation, returning himself to his half finished meal.

Ghost finished his meal and replaced his helmet. He finally felt safe, 15 minutes of recycled air between him and death. He saw a blip on his motion tracker, it was moving fast right behind him. Ghost knew he was in no danger but his heart-rate monitor showed a sudden spike. “Bressler wanted everyone to meet him in the rec hall. Didn’t tell me why.” A young soldier said behind Ghost. The Lieutenant motioned for Ghost to follow and Ghost instinctively blinked his command recognition light before stopping himself. He followed Ethan a short distance before Ethan stopped. Ghost saw what Ethan had stopped for, a Spartan. He stood straight at attention a sharp salute. Images flashed through Ghost's mind of the Gods of War that he had seen back on Jericho. If your jaw goes any lower, you'll depolarize your visor. He's smaller than I expected, but my memories are a little faded.

[Feroxi]

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Carol had told him such an obvious lie; however, he'd give her credit for trying. Odds are she would've fooled the typical pencil-pushing psych analyst with her phony emotions. But, she wouldn't convince Thorne... he was a Spartan, a bloodhound trained to sniff out liars and beat the truth out of them within an inch of their life. Regardless, he wouldn't push the conversation anymore. She didn't seem like she was keen on talking about it, at least, not right now. The two had just met each other, after all.

Thorne looked up as soon as he heard footsteps approaching. Multiple boot thuds mean't multiple targets, or in this case, teammates. From the looks of it, there were five people in total. It was made up of mostly men, with a few women mixed in. Immediately, he identified one of their group, whom he had found very peculiar indeed. It was his superior, Ethan Woods, leader of their little band of merry troublemakers. They stopped in front of Deckard and Thorne, the lot of them snapping to attention and saluting. Needless pleasantries, he thought. Predictably, two men seemed surprised more so than the others, and one of the women simply just sat there with her mouth agape.

Woods stepped forward, “I didn’t know ONI was sending a Spartan. Lieutenant Woods, commander of this little fun fest. Guessing things just got a whole lot easier with you aboard.”

The Spartan stood up, towering over most of them at full height. Although Woods was his CO, he wouldn't bother saluting, bowing, or whatever the hell folks did to their higher ups in ONI. Ethan seemed like the type of man that didn't care about that anyway. He said, "Spartan Thorne, A095. A pleasure to meet you all."

He chuckled internally when Woods said things would get easier with him around; if he only knew that things were never so simple...

[Beiarusia]

Ethan could tell that something was bothering Deckard but didn’t press the issue further. He wasn’t one to pry when it wasn’t wanted. Instead he focused his attention to the Spartan, surprised that such an asset would be thrown his way when a soldier of this caliber would be so better suited for far more greater things. It almost seemed a waste of potential, but having the extra firepower was not something to qualm over. In fact Ethan was thankful.

“So tell me, how does a Spartan end up here? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere saving the galaxy?” The questions were only half honest. He was curious but knew well enough that whatever ONI wanted happened, and so while a Spartan being aboard the Memento Mori was odd there was no doubt some reason lying just beyond his thought. Still, perhaps the man, Thorne, knew something of their current employers. Looking over to Deckard he addressed her. “Bressler wanted a little get together it seems. Don’t think he’d mind if you two tagged along.”

Neither had the chance to answer immediately as a abnormally tall woman was soon amongst them, saluting and effectively reporting to duty. Ethan had never quite gotten use to the respect shown towards a CO and quickly waved her down, feeling as much as Shepherd did.

“Glad to...uh, have you aboard,” he greeted, looking up to the woman. “No need to be so formal. In case you didn’t get the memo we’re not a regular outfit so don’t worry about such things.”

[Taigawa]

Ethan could tell that something was bothering Deckard but didn’t press the issue further. He wasn’t one to pry when it wasn’t wanted. Instead he focused his attention to the Spartan, surprised that such an asset would be thrown his way when a soldier of this caliber would be so better suited for far more greater things. It almost seemed a waste of potential, but having the extra firepower was not something to qualm over. In fact Ethan was thankful.

“So tell me, how does a Spartan end up here? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere saving the galaxy?” The questions were only half honest. He was curious but knew well enough that whatever ONI wanted happened, and so while a Spartan being aboard the Memento Mori was odd there was no doubt some reason lying just beyond his thought. Still, perhaps the man, Thorne, knew something of their current employers. Looking over to Deckard he addressed her. “Bressler wanted a little get together it seems. Don’t think he’d mind if you two tagged along.”

Neither had the chance to answer immediately as a abnormally tall woman was soon amongst them, saluting and effectively reporting to duty. Ethan had never quite gotten use to the respect shown towards a CO and quickly waved her down, feeling as much as Shepherd did.

“Glad to...uh, have you aboard,” he greeted, looking up to the woman. “No need to be so formal. In case you didn’t get the memo we’re not a regular outfit so don’t worry about such things.”

"I know ONI operate mostly outside UNSC regulations. A few decades of military service indoctrinates a set of behaviors into you that are hard to forget. I am pretty sure you wouldn't want to hear my war stories though. They mainly involve destroying innies and fighting the Covenant. I hope to never see another world glassed by the bastards." she declared, thumbing one of her medals.

[Protestant England and Germany]

Sergeant Michael Covenchik stepped off the Pelican and into the hanger of the UNSC Memento Mori. "This is my new home." He thought as he walked from the docking bay up to the Command Deck. "Àtkozott," He swore in Hungarian. "This ship is built like a maze, it is amazing anyone can find anything." It took him thirty minutes to find the command deck and once he was there, he made a bee line to his superior officers. As ONI, he wanted to know exactly who he was working under and how long it might be. "Commander Shepherd, Sergeant Michael Covenchik, ONI." With his introduction out of the way, he got straight to business, pulling out his PDA. "Sir, I am looking for Fire Team Delta, it is lead by a 'Captain Chase Rector' with PO2C. B418, 'Jeremiah'." His Hungarian accent was well noticeable and he hoped it didn't skew any words, as English wasn't his native tongue.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Bressler groaned as he clutched a full bottle of whiskey and used the wall to support himself. Impatient motherf*cker. Bressler cursed to himself as the rec hall came into view, and he saw it held quite a few more then when he last left it. One round, leave the bottle, leave the room, sleep. God, why did I have so much earlier?. Bressler shook the thoughts off as he entered the room with the bottle in hand and nodded to his comrades in arms as he opened the bottle and began to fill enough shot glasses for the gathered ONI personnel. With that finished he gathered the attention of the gathered crew members and began a speech he had heard and given many times over the years.

"Years ago, when I was still young we had a platoon sergeant who was taken from us. So we started a tradition, of a post mission toast; we drank to the memory of our fallen comrades but also to the success of the mission. That is what we are doing here, here we drink to the success of our mission and to the return of our comrades. Drink up!" With that Bressler picked up his glass and slammed the alcohol down to get it out of the way fast.

[Vacif]

After thoroughly exploring the ship, it was safe to say they had most things, granted on a smaller scale. The gym compared to the Swiftsure's was tiny. But it was workable. Several racks of weights, a few machines, and some mats, and punching bags. Enough to keep a person in shape. After changing into some more appropriate attire, he got started on his work out. There wasn't much to do when it came to down time for Hadrian.

[Merodin]

Recreation Hall, UNSC Memento Mori
SFC. Elizabeth and Lt. Artanis Sylvari

As the twins finished up their game of billiards, they were slightly surprised to see such a large crowd entering the rec hall. Both looked at each other bemused by the sudden commotion brought by the others. It seemed something was going on and it was happening here. From where they were standing the twins could see that it looked like everyone had already introduced themselves to each other. A little intimidating, but nothing they hadn't overcome before. Arty had been trained for infiltrating and integrating himself into a group like second nature, but these men and women were different. They had been brought aboard by ONI and he doubted his usual tricks would work on them. He'd have to do the old fashioned approach. Elizabeth on the other hand was nonplussed by the whole ordeal. As a soldier, she knew exchanging pleasantries and jokes wouldn't make her friends with the people she saw before her. No, only combat, pitted in the trenches while under fire is where she'd make her friends. She'd just give them her name and rank for now.

It was then that they saw one soldier, whom from the way he stumbled and clutched his whiskey closely knew to be inebriated, lay out shot glasses on the bar counter for them all. Arty and Elizabeth exchanged a glance between each other as they saw where this was going. The two had a terrible tolerance for alcohol. A single glass and they'd be giggling stupidly and have flushed faces. Their aunt however had tremendous talent for putting down booze at all hours of the day and night without getting drunk at all. Their dad had nicknamed her "Ol' Iron Liver". Apparently she'd had a sip of the strong stuff while still at the teat and hadn't been dry since.

They each picked up one of the offered glasses and raised it in toast-like fashion. The two then pretended to sip from the glass with closed lips and set it back down on the counter, each screwing up their face to try and sell it.

[Dernland]

Ghost
UNSC Memento Mori, Reach, Epsilon Eridani
2204 hours, 15 October, 2549 Military Calendar

Ghost leaned in a shadowy corner of the Rec Room. He seemed to meld with the shadows, and was only visible by the sheen of his polarized visor. From here he could observe his new crew-mates without being observed himself. He watched as a soldier, completely and totally wasted, tried to drink some more than was healthy. Ghost's IFF indicator showed that the man's name was Nathaniel Bressler, his rank was Gunnery Sergeant, and that he was Ghost's fire-team leader. Great, a drunk for a squad leader; we're all going to die. Good. You used to drink once, remember? A woman's voice echoed in Ghost's mind That was before... Lys? I haven't heard you in there for a while. The woman's voice didn't respond.

Ghost noticed two troopers sitting at the bar, both sported very similar features. Their IFF tags identified them as Artanis and Elizabeth Sylvari. Neither was in his squad, though Artanis seemed to be a bridge officer and Elizabeth had the look of a pilot. The girl is very pretty. Ghost shot forward, losing his balance and falling to the floor. He pushed himself to his feet, returning to his position in the shadows. Joel? I havent heard your voice since...since... Since I died? It's been a long time, you surely have made this place rather depressing haven't you? What was that about her being pretty? Didn't you say the same about me? That was before... The mission! Focus on the mission! Social time comes after! The spartan seemed angry. What! Before my 'pretty' face was melted off by plasma! Tha-That's not what I meant, I ... The babble of four voices seemed to press down on Ghost's mind, crushing him. shut up...shut up... Shut Up ! SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU! Great, now you've given us a headache. Ghost held his hands to his face, smacking the back of his head against the wall with several quiet thunks.

[The Greater Gambia]

"Five minutes until we arrive." The pilot said over the intercom. The sudden voice woke Fatou up from what little sleep he could get on the pelican. He looked down to his prosthetic arm. He would never get used to it, despite having had it for two years already. Another anniversary was soon approaching, the deaths of his squad mates. Fatou tried to not let it bother him. He had learned early in his life that death was an unstoppable force. "My parents, Omar, Maurice, Safi, Mansour, and many others. Hell, if I didn't join the UNSC, I would have probably joined them." Fatou thought to himself. The war had definitely helped reinforce that message. Still, it took Fatou many months to stop trying to push away their memory by the end of a bottle.

The pelican landed in the hangar. Fatou gathered his belongings and hopped off the pelican. He was soon greeted by an ONI liason. "Hello Mr. Sabaleh, I have been assigned to show you to your quarters. The captain has asked that no one report to the bridge, so once I show you where you will be staying, you will have free reign of the ship." The liason said. Fatou just nodded in agreement, he had learned long ago just to go with the flow when ONI is involved, so he just followed the liason to his room.

As they walked through the halls, Fatou noticed how empty the ship was. Sure, there was the occasional crew member that would pass by, but they were few and far between. "ONI must only have who's necessary here." Fatou thought. After a few more minutes of walking, they had reached Fatou's bunk. "Here we are, if you have any questions, just let me know." The liaison said. "Your fellow soldiers are down in the rec hall, you should probably get acquainted with them, first." Fatou dropped his bag on the floor. The room was small, containing a bed and a small dresser. It was more than enough for Fatou. He turned to thank the liaison, accidently letting a little bit of his French slip out. "merci". The liaison turned around. "De rien." She said, much to the surprise of Fatou. Fatou unpacked his clothes and took the liaison's advice and went to the rec hall.

Fatou entered the rec and saw the other soldiers doing there own things. He decided not to bother them, instead just pouring himself a glass of water and finding a chair away from everyone else. He pulled out his datapad and began reading the news.

[Feroxi]

Bressler groaned as he clutched a full bottle of whiskey and used the wall to support himself. Impatient motherf*cker. Bressler cursed to himself as the rec hall came into view, and he saw it held quite a few more then when he last left it. One round, leave the bottle, leave the room, sleep. God, why did I have so much earlier?. Bressler shook the thoughts off as he entered the room with the bottle in hand and nodded to his comrades in arms as he opened the bottle and began to fill enough shot glasses for the gathered ONI personnel. With that finished he gathered the attention of the gathered crew members and began a speech he had heard and given many times over the years.

"Years ago, when I was still young we had a platoon sergeant who was taken from us. So we started a tradition, of a post mission toast; we drank to the memory of our fallen comrades but also to the success of the mission. That is what we are doing here, here we drink to the success of our mission and to the return of our comrades. Drink up!" With that Bressler picked up his glass and slammed the alcohol down to get it out of the way fast.

Thorne had walked with the rest of the group to the recreational room. Apparently, Gunnery Sergeant Bressler had called for some sort of meeting. Whether this meeting was regarding a mission or something else, he didn't know. The crew of the Momento Mori filled the cabin of the ship. He could point out Ethan Woods, Carol Deckard, Felicia Haungji, the Sylvari siblings, and of course, Nathaniel Bressler. He couldn't really decide whether or not he liked Bressler as a person, or even as a soldier, for that matter. The Gunnery Sergeant seemed like a man with far too many demons, little fires of regret and anger that he tried to drown with alcohol. As far as Thorne was concerned, that was a sign of weakness, and yet another potential weak link in the team's chain.

He listened as Bressler began to speak, obviously intoxicated, "Years ago, when I was still young we had a platoon sergeant who was taken from us. So we started a tradition, of a post mission toast; we drank to the memory of our fallen comrades but also to the success of the mission. That is what we are doing here, here we drink to the success of our mission and to the return of our comrades. Drink up!"

Thorne didn't reach for a shot glass. He wasn't a drinker. He was never truly allowed or encouraged to partake in it, but he did have a few chances here and there throughout his career. The Spartan didn't understand its appeal; it poisoned you, tasted bitter, and it nulled your senses. Perhaps that was its allure? If people couldn't feel pain and couldn't think straight, they wouldn't have to face their problems. Humans didn't enjoy looking at the harsh reality of life.

Regardless, he nodded to the Sergeant, "Let's hope we have many more down the road."