NATION

PASSWORD

Halo: Penumbra (IC / OPEN)

For all of your non-NationStates related roleplaying needs!

Advertisement

Remove ads

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Fri Aug 11, 2017 1:56 am

    Lieutenant Aiko Akiyama
    ONI Research Facility, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

Spartans. II's at that. No doubt the "special forces" operating in-system as mentioned by ONI. Lieutenant Akiyama was approached by the group's leader, Sierra-234, the number emblazoned on his breastplate in bold, white lettering, and after a curt introduction she joined the augmented super-solider in the emergency shelter.

The emergency shelter was designed to house a great number of people for an extended period, but following the Covenant attack only a handful had survived to make use of the refuge: twenty-seven scientists, engineers, and assorted personnel, including a fatigued janitor busying himself with a broom as if that alone would prevent the inevitable mental breakdown that already trembled his calloused hands. No security officers were present and likely had perished defending the facility. Sierra-234 explained to Akiyama that Green Team was on Lostwithiel shortly before the planet's glassing and had been rerouted to Everest to secure/destroy the experimental weapons platform currently in development at the ONI facility, a simple task for Spartans, but given the army of Covenant had been unable to do so without compromising the safety of the remaining VIP's and, rather embarrassingly, had found themselves worked into a corner. Regardless, Sierra-234 was optimistic that a solution would present itself given enough time but was appreciative nonetheless.

As the surviving personnel gathered for their exodus Akiyama made use of a terminal connecting the shelter to the radio antennae on the surface, allowing her to bypass the inconvenience of having communications with the Salt the Earth hindered by several dozen meters of solid rock. "This is Lieutenant Akiyama. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative," came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Mcrae which confirmed that the ship had thus far gone undetected.

Akiyama was brief when asked for a status update. "Three casualties and down another two guns. We have VIP's secured and have joined with Spartan Green Team for the time being."

"Spartans? ONI must be desperate,," Dawkins added with mild curiosity.

"We were in the neighborhood," said Sierra-234.

"The facility has been compromised," Akiyama continued. "Primary objectives will be accomplished, however, site demolition by conventional means will be impossible, more so once we commit. Suggestions?" A liberal amount of C-12 in key locations throughout the facility would be a potent enough force to leave behind a decently sized crater, as was originally the plan, but that would take time, and QUASAR lacked the manpower to effectively combat the Covenant longterm and so required a new stratagem.

The A.I. was quick to have an answer. "The facility is powered by a reactor not unlike that which is found aboard larger starships. A wildcat destabilization should level the facility quite nicely."

"Reactor shielding would keep it from going critical," Sierra-234 said.

"Then we break the shielding."

"Don't think we have a big enough hammer."

"Ah, but I do. A 600-ton tungsten slug should do the trick. Light the fuse, run away, and I bring the earth shattering kaboom. Between impact and the resulting explosion the facility will be rendered nonexistent with only minimal effort on your part. I have to make the orbital calculations, so consider yourselves lucky in that regard."

Akiyama, Sierra-234, and the surviving staff exited the emergency shelter after only being gone a few moments. The plan-of-action was quickly detailed: LYNCH would destabilize the reactor, RECTOR would escort the VIP's to a secondary hangar in the cave system, WYVERN and CADMUS would destroy the weapon. S-234, S-014, and S-070 would assist with each objective respectively. The BLACK Operatives and their Spartan allies would move fast to blitz the Covenant before the enemy could use its numbers advantage against them. As demonstrated by Corporal Montag minutes earlier the goal was shock and awe.

"Let's move out," Akiyama said after giving her orders.

LYNCH and Sierra-234 would find the reactor control room on the current level with the unassuming door unlocked and unguarded. Ensign Bradley was again tasked with doing the honors as the others took a defensive position, much as they had before, and like before there was little cover to be found, but unlike the wide concourse the entrance into the hallway was thin enough to present an easily controlled choke-point.

RECTOR and Sierra-014 and the twenty-seven noncombatants would retrace their steps down into the cave system. Another path would lead to a second hangar carved into the rock where a small Prowler was maintained for emergency situations, and unlike the Pelican LZ the area appeared more formal in its construction. The starship would need to be brought online and the area secured.

WYVERN, CADMUS, and Sierra-070 took the main elevator up into the facility. The experimental weapons platform was located in a secured auxiliary building across a testing area (essentially an open field on the northern end of the facility). Opposition would be stiff, insurmountable even, but with the Spartan taking point it was only a matter of killing everything in their way with ruthless efficiency. Crossing the open testing field would prove dangerous, but a vehicle bay would give them access to Warthogs and ATV's, and once the weapon was secured it could potentially be used against the Covenant as the enemy would doubtlessly converge on their location. It was then only a matter of heading back down to the LZ before the facility was leveled.

Overall, the mission was suicidal, but for QUASAR it was just another day at work.

User avatar
Ubaria
Minister
 
Posts: 2811
Founded: Sep 14, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Ubaria » Mon Aug 21, 2017 3:23 pm

Sergeant Chae-Won Shin
ONI Research Facility / Ice Cave System - Everest
August 31st - 2549


Not a moment too soon did the Spartans enter the fray, carving up the enemy with minimal effort and maximum carnage in a tremendous display of raw firepower and hand to hand prowess, one used the Chieftains own hammer, driving it like a golf club to send the beast, as massive as it was, reeling into a crumpled and broken mess of armor and fur. It ended as quickly as it began and after mere moments the enemy that was very much about to crush Quasar, lay broken and dismantled on the cold concrete floor, only then did Shin get a good look at the Spartans for the first time they were just as much the towering human tanks that the legends made them out to be, seven foot giants clad in more metal than an Autumn Class cruiser and with as much firepower to boot, moving with the grace of a bird of prey yet with the raw brutality of a rampaging rhino, it was hard to believe the Covenant were winning the war with Spartans against them.

Normally one to make a quip or sarcastic jab, Shin was truly lost for words and simply stared dumbfounded at the trio who simply turned on heel and proceeded back towards the doorway. With their objective now complete, it was up to Quasar and their newfound Spartan friends to hatch an escape plan, though not before leveling the ONI facility which would require work on their behalf, however Rector had instead been tasked to secure their exit and escort the non-combat personnel to safety, luckily Shin had been loaned a Spartan for the job, he only felt slightly gauche when the towering figure strode over to him, pausing only to look down at him through her golden visor. A short silence followed.

"...uhm.....Sergeant Shin....pleasure to meet you....glad you're on our side..." Shin fumbled his words and stuck out a hand to greet his Spartan comrade. S-014 remained rigid and unmoving, after several seconds of awkward stillness Shin retracted his hand and flexed his fingers, inhaling sharply.

"Well time to get moving. Caz i want you on point with me, Monty and Shepard hang back and remain with the personnel and keep rear guard if need be. Spartan....do whatever you think is best." It felt strange to order a Spartan what to do and Shin would rather have Xi use her initiative. Rector slowly filtered out of the hangar and back through the icy caves towards the Prowler hangar.
Yo, that's mad.

User avatar
Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5765
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Turmenista » Sat Aug 26, 2017 10:40 am

    Ensign Thomas Bradley
    Cave System, Everest / 2549

Of course, Ensign Bradley was oblivious to the presence of a Brute Chieftain breaking through the lines whilst being shot at by the entirety of Quasar, his sight (and Gravity Hammer) locked in on the Technician's back. Bradley was too busy trying to engage the pesky jackal that had been making a few shots at him to even realize that the Brute was about five feet away from him. The world slowed down to a crawl as the Chieftan pounced on him, all the while swinging the gigantic hammer downwards on the man.

Out of the corner of his vision, Bradley spotted an irregularity in his HUD. Or, what he thought was one. A white sphere, marked as a "FRIENDLY" on his HUD in stark contrast to the Chieftan's gigantic red blip, had appeared behind him right when Bradley had noticed the Chieftan. In those next crucial 60 seconds, the Chieftan was suddenly disarmed by a mass of green armor. Quite literally, the tables had turned - the Brute fuck was sent sailing across the open like a ragdoll as a seven foot tall demigod of a man appeared behind Bradley. Like earlier, he wasn't a very religious person, but today was just full of miracles and divine intervention left, right, and on all three axes.

Correction: three seven foot tall demigods. One stepped forward, a very familiar looking weapon on their shoulder that began to produce a bright, red light. Bradley knew not to look into laser beams, so ducked his head and hit the dirt as a ruby-colored beam streaked across the room and effortlessly cut down the otherwise invulnerable Hunte- Wait, there was a Hunter there too?!

He was just about to raise his head once more when a blend between a metallic fart and a roar filled the air, causing him to duck down just as quickly - it was the sound of a 'Hog's machine gun cutting down the rest of the other Covenant forces in the area with ease. The entirety of this had happened in mere seconds, filling the room with silence as the Spartans entered the field. Bradley let out an audible sigh of relief as he got back up onto his feet - after a brief introduction to each of the Spartans, he followed them into the emergency shelter where the second phase of their mission would take place. The plan detailed destroying the facility with a well-placed MAC shot to a certain destabilized reactor, which would, to anyone aware of how physics worked, make for a very nice explosion that would bury the facility and any other inhuman bastard still inside under several thousand tons of snow, ice, and rock. If, of course, they weren't vaporized by the explosion. Fireteam Lynch was responsible for destabilizing the reactor, a pretty simple task, if you asked Bradley. Fireteam Rector would escort all of the VIPs to safety whilst Wyvern and Cadmus had the fun part - destroying the weapon.

If this were a regular mission, it was guaranteed to be suicidal, which was, at this point, Division QUASAR's middle name. But, Ensign Bradley didn't mind. Besides, he felt much less anxious about dying now that he had his trusty, seven foot tall Guardian Angel known as Sierra-234 with him. If anything the Covenant threw at was going to be between him and certain death, it was probably going to be the Spartan.

Lieutenant Akiyama, Sierra-234, and the rest of Fireteam Lynch promptly moved out after Akiyama detailed the plan, finding the reactor control room located on the same level they were on. Bradley was just about to give up on the mission when they came upon another closed door, only stopping to realize that it was unlocked after it automatically opened up to the big green behemoth with them, much to his relief. The room, however, was even more tight than before and provided even less cover than the safe room, but luckily to the defenders, made for a defensive position that could easily be controlled by, say, a couple of special forces and a Spartan.

The reactor took up most of the room and, sadly, Bradley was disappointed that he had to destabilize such a wonderful piece of human architecture and engineering. It was in the perfect spot - deep underground and cooled by the earth of Everest, but he and everyone else here knew that there was a mission to do. C-12 in a couple of spots wasn't going to be enough to make this thing go up, nor would a regular destabilization. Like Dawkins said, they'd light the fuse and run, preferably very far away from the facility, while Dawkins would bring down the hammer in the form of a tungsten slug moving at hypersonic speeds. It was the perfect catalyst, honestly.

The match in this case was, of course, Ensign Bradley. Between him and the rest of Lynch, the interior of the reactor was probably the safest place to be. The only way the Covenant was going to get in would be through the heavily-fortified door, not to mention S-234, before they'd even be able to lay an alien finger or tentacle on Bradley. The only exception to this would be if the Covenant had been expecting them and set up inside of the reactor, but Bradley knew better. The Covenant weren't known for these types of tactics as much as they were with brute force.

Ensign Bradley knelt to the down as he unpacked his rucksack, taking out all of his necessary tools needed for hacking into a nuclear reactor. His blowtorch still lay on his holster as his last line of defense, but from here on out he had control of the room. His TACPAD once more displayed any necessary notifications he needed while a larger tactical pad was connected to the console. Almost like some sort of maniacal musical composer, Bradley began disabling each of the failsafes and safety mechanisms one by one, sending audible metallic clunks through the facility as he did so.

He briefly turned around to the entrance to check upon the team himself - nobody was shooting or getting shot at so far. Great. Now came the hard part. The reactor itself was already starting to heat up more than usual with the shutdown of several safety mechanisms, but those rods were the big piece. Any wrong move, and the reactor would destabilize instantly and vaporize them all. He had to be patient with these.

"This thing's already overheating, but I'll need to mess with these control rods if we want it to destabilize. Of course, that's if it doesn't blow up on us."

Besides, the reactor shielding would keep them fairly safe from any precarious mistake... right?
Last edited by Turmenista on Sat Aug 26, 2017 5:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Tayner
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7913
Founded: Oct 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Tayner » Sun Aug 27, 2017 2:35 pm

Lance Corporal Marc Wilson
ONI Reasearch Facility, Everest, Himalaya system
Agust 31, 2549


Marc didn't notice the chieftain, busy suppressing the grunts and jackals that were still advancing. It was a surprise when he saw the blob sprint past him in the corner of his eye, even more so when it went flying back the direction it came. Meanwhile the hunters were torn apart in a brilliant display of shock and awe. Marc glanced back to see their saviors, three Spartans. The third one was spoiling up his HMG to chop down any remaining covenant, most of which were around Marc and Matti.

Not wanting to become a casualty of blue on blue fire, Marc grabbed Loki's rucksack and dragged them both to the deck as the .50 opened fire. Marc gritted his teeth as he heard the whiz of bullets whip over his head. What happened in seconds felt like minutes, even hours, when the loud thumping of a Hog's HMG thumping throughout the hallway ended. "Man, fuck." He said as a ringing noise tore through his ears. He looked around to see covvies splattered all over the walls. He reached over and picked up his shotgun, which was covered in all sorts of colored blood.

He wiped the blood away with a rag he had secured in his rucksack, which he promptly discarded afterwards. He didn't have much ammo left, maybe a dozen shells at the most. It wasn't long until they were given orders. They boarded the elevator, and ascended to the ground level where they were immediately greeted by a squad of grunts and Jackals. S-070's heavy MG combined with the small arms of half a platoon of troopers shredded the three grunts and one jackal before they could ready their guns.

"Wilson, take point, Spartan, cover him, everyone follow. Loy, you cover our '6." Captain Farsi ordered.

"Aye aye." Marc said as he rounded the next corner, coming face to face with a pair of grunt heavies. His shotgun sounded twice, as buckshot ripped through the grunts. An arrow with MOTOR POOL written in bold white letters directed them to their next turn, and as they rounded it they came to a long hallway that lead to a door, which read 'Motor Pool' over it. Marc sprinted down the hallway, the Spartan behind him not even stressing as Marc started to pant after sprinting so fast in full Battle rattle.

The two teams reached the door, and as they started to stack up some more grunts and a jackal rounded the corner behind them and started sending plasma and pink crystals their way. "The door!" Sergeant Loy yelled as the Spartan returned fire. Marc found the handle locked, so he opted to kick the door, which didn't budge. The Spartan noticed this, and stopped firing to turn and bash the door in with his foot before returning to shooting at their pursuers.

Marc, Loki, and the Farsi entered the motor pool, and saw an expansive pool of vehicles before them. Mongooses, Hogs, even a Gauss Hog or two. However, they weren't alone, as Brute Major, along with two Jackals and four Grunts were apparently investigating the room. As Cadmus started opening fire, Wyvern entered behind them, providing a base of fire which immediately tore down three grunts, and wounded another as well as a jackal, a few bullets even pinging off the Brute's armor.

Marc looked to his left to find a MG hog, while the other troopers were engaging the covenant who were tightening up their formation, Marc jumped into the gunner seat of the Hog, and started laying down fire. Just as fast as they breached the room, they chopped down the resistance. Now all they had to do was mount up and move out. Marc jumped down from the Hog, not being the best .50 gunner present, and found his way to the next vehicle, a Gauss Hog. He happily entered the driver seat, and started up the engine.

"Loki, hop on the gun!" He called.

"Sergeant Loy, get the garage door." Farsi called out as he jumped into the passenger seat. S-070 had already entered the motor pool, the covenant troops behind them either being to scared or smart to push their assault. Either way, a large boom sounded, and the hallway collapsed, the Spartan or one of Wyvern covering their six deploying a small amount of C-12 to seal off the opening. "Let's get moving Sergeant!" Farsi pressed, time being in short supply.
Last edited by Tayner on Sun Aug 27, 2017 2:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Sun Aug 27, 2017 3:46 pm

    FIRETEAM LYNCH
    Reactor Level, ONI Research Facility, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The Covenant weren't far behind the BLACK Operatives. Like before, Jackals where the first to show themselves, shields overlaid to provide itinerant cover for those behind them, and although the thin hallways prevented the invaders from engaging effectively the phalanx did well to shelter their advance. The Grunts fired between the gaps, and likewise the human defenders did the same, those with marksmanship doing well to force the diminutive aliens into reconsidering their approach. The Brute Captain, however, wasn't as swayed, and the personal shielding allowed the massive beast to expose itself with little fear of injury. Red plasma painted the air above the Jackals, scorching the white-silver walls with pockmarks that glowed with unfathomable heat. A glancing blow caught Corporal Petraccas in the arm. The man stumbled, fell, and quickly rolled into more adequate cover.

"I'm okay!" the man yelled through gritted teeth.

S-234 ducked low as plasma rained upon his position. He quickly returned fire, but the MA37 did little against the shield gauntlets at range, pinging the energy barriers and ricochetting harmlessly. The Spartan looked over to Lieutenant Akiyama. "I need an opening. Think you can supply?" he asked, calm despite the situation.

The woman nodded. "Bates, grenade out."

Corporal Bates did as told and prepped a grenade. He counted to three, and then he lobbed it into the hallway with an overhand toss. The grenade landed just behind the leading Jackal Major before detonating, killing the red-armored alien and its comrade while stumbling the third. The Grunts immediately panicked whereas the surviving Jackal cowered where it lay with its shield gauntlet raised like a turtle's shell. The Covenant had lost its moving cover.

"That'll do," S-234 said before vaulting into the midst of the bloodied fray.

The Spartan wasted little time in engaging the now exposed Covenant, dropping the MA37 in favor of dual M6 handguns, and killing the nearest Grunts without delay as Fireteam Lynch rallied behind him. With the aliens distracted, Akiyama rolled into a prone position, the M392 DMR making quick work of those unfortunate enough to fall under her scope. She covered S-234 as he predictably tore through the enemy. A Grunt Minor readied a plasma grenade in a final desperate bid to kill the green-armored supersoldier, but was quickly shot in the shoulder by Akiyama, dropping the live grenade at its feet which exploded seconds later, obliterating the alien and another standing beside it. Within seconds only the Brute Captain remained. The behemoth roared as it charged the Spartan, swinging its red-coloured Plasma Rifle like a club, but S-234 deflected the blow and used the Brute's own momentum to unsteady it. The beast planted a foot, spun with another vicious swing, and missed as the Spartan ducked low before rising with a powerful blow into the gut of the Brute. Vomit and blood fell from the alien's mouth as it tried one last time to crush the supersoldier, but another blow to the head left it stumbling back with its helmet falling to pieces. It tried to stand but collapsed after a step.

The gunfire stopped and the hallway went quiet.

"So cool," Corporal Bates said as he watched the Spartan.

Akiyama got to her feet and told the others to ready-up so that they could depart as soon as Ensign Bradley finished with destabilizing the reactor. The Brute Captain was still alive, barely, bleeding and struggling to breathe. Without raising the DMR the Lieutenant fired into its skull and killed it with little ceremony.

"Good job," S-234 said. He reloaded both his pistols and then retrieved his assault rifle. More Covenant could be heard not too far off, and with his weapon at the ready the Spartan added with a knowing tone, "Think you can keep up?"

The reactor failsafes had given way and the core was overheating to dangerous levels. Fireteam Lynch had completed its objective and it was time to RTB. S-234 took point alongside Akiyama as the others readied to fight their way through whatever Covenant stood between them and the LZ. The enemy garrison was unprepared, and stopping the humans was beyond their capabilities, but dutifully they marched onwards to meet their death, and Fireteam Lynch showed no mercy.


    FIRETEAM RECTOR
    Secondary Hangar, Cave System, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

Fireteam Rector led the noncombatants deeper into the underground cave, stepping over the bodies of dead Covenant before diverging down a secluded pathway that had previously been overlooked, and a few minutes after they arrived to where the Prowler lay in wait. The emergency hangar was carved into a natural cavern. A starship-sized opening allowed natural light to filter into the grotto, and a light dusting of snow coated the few crates scattered about. The small Prowler sat in the center. The BLACK Operatives held the area as the noncombatants bordered, and soon enough the engines could be heard spooling to life.

S-014 patrolled the area as the BLACK Operatives took a defensive position. For a long while nothing happened. There was only the lonely wind and the snow it carried. The soldiers relaxed ever slightly but remained vigilant.

An avian screech shattered the stillness of the air, and almost immediately after the Skirmishers launched their assault, running full sprint into the cavern and into whatever cover they found, returning fire as necessary as they went. The soldiers snapped to attention and engaged, but with their attention turned elsewhere the main force of Covenant breached. The Brute Captain led the charge, Brute Shot in hand, firing wildly and more for effect than accuracy. Corporal Shepard was forced to abandon his cover as the grenades exploded dangerously close to his position. A beam of violet light trailed after the man, narrowly missing as the Jackal Sniper readjusted its shot before retreating as the Spartan fired upon its position. The Brute Captain pressed the attack. Sergeant Shin came under fire, but before he could be killed the man was thrown to safety by S-014, who was hit instead, and although her shields prevented a lethal wound the grenades punched through nonetheless. The Spartan returned fire as she fell into cover but the Brute Captain was unfazed.

"Take out that Baby Kong!" Private Napier shouted, killing a Skirmisher that had come too close.

They were being flanked, and the Covenant were coming close to overwhelming the BLACK Operatives, but unlikely reinforcements turned the tide of battle. The point-defense-guns of the Prowler were coming online. In a few seconds more they would be operational, and the Covenant reduced to a fine red mist, but until then Fireteam Rector had to survive the onslaught.


    FIRETEAM WYVERN / CADMUS
    Testing Field, ONI Research Facility, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The Covenant had discovered the remote UNSC outpost by chance. The colony of Lostwithiel was still aglow with the heat of plasma bombardment when a cargo freighter, unaware of the planet's demise, arrived in-system, and retracing the ship's path had brought them, the Fleet of Fervent Exultation, to Everest which quickly was overwhelmed. Much of the fleet had departed shortly thereafter so as to attend to matters elsewhere, leaving behind a small task force to scour the facility in search of anything of perceived value. The murderous Brutes, however, were keen to prioritize the hunting of what few humans remained alive, and progress had consequently been slowed to a crawl.

The ONI facility was situated in the valley between two mountains. The main structure was unremarkable in design, partially hidden by thick snowfall and with its highest point being the now ruined transmission tower that leaned dangerously to one side. A vast, open field dominated the area north of the buildings, and on the far end sat a collection of hangars, the larger of which was noticeably reinforced, and beyond that was the craggy ravines cutting through the landscape like the fissure of a wound. This field had been utilized by the Covenant as a convenient landing zone, and although no dropships were currently arriving or departing a large number of troops remained stationed here, defending the area from an unlikely human counterattack whereas those with more fortunate assignments enjoyed the warmth of the facility. The Grunts were accustomed to such cold weather and enjoyed themselves in the snow; the Brutes could tolerate the weather well enough thanks to their thick fur; the avian Jackals despised the low temperatures and muttered angrily to one another in their chirping language. A Ghost patrolled the area but most other vehicles sat dormant with little reason to move.

A Brute Major was walking close to the main building, near the vehicle depot, when it heard the unmistakable report of gunfire. The Brute paused, head cocked to one side to better listen, and soon enough the noise repeated itself, followed after by the muted rumble of an explosion. Moments later the garage began to open.

The Brute roared in bloodthirsty excitement. A nearby gaggle of Grunts took noticed and waddled over to take aim at the vehicle depot, joined by another piloting a Ghost. Those nearby trained their weapons while those further out turned to watch in curiosity. After standing idle for so long the Covenant were eager for a fight. They didn't question why or who or what lay beyond those walls. It was a chance to kill, and that was more than enough.

The garage was maybe a quarter-of-the-way open when the C-7 detonated. The stunned Covenant ducked low as bits of metal pelted the snow around them, and the Ghost, panicked, opened fire into the building only to be hit by a M68 Gauss Cannon hidden beyond the smoke, the magnetically accelerated slug penetrating the chitinous metal and decapitating the pilot before the vehicle exploded wholesale in a spray of plasma. The Covenant had little time to react as the first Warthog stormed through the opening, running down two Grunts and clipping a third as the LAAG spun to life. The second Warthog followed suit, hitting the Brute Major as it tried to stumble away to safety. The Brute clung to the hood but was quickly shot by Captain Farsi who rode shotgun. The Brute fell under the wheels and the vehicle bounced ever slightly as the corpse was ran over. Lance Corporal Wilson was driving with Lance Corporal Lehkoken manning the gun.

The Warthogs, Mongoose, and the Spade carrying S-070 dashed into the open field, the shock-and-awe catching the Covenant unaware, but the distance between them and their objective was considerable and they soon fell under heavy fire. Jackal Snipers perched atop the building took aim, and Private First Class Silverstein, driving a Mongoose, was shot through the back and killed almost instantly. A Banshee patrolling the skies above swooped down, targeting the Gauss Warthog and scoring a near-direct hit with its Fuel Rod Cannon. The armor shrugged off the blow but the vehicle was left fishtailing, and the exposed passengers were showered in superheated plasma. The Banshee came back around for another strafing run but the driving of Wilson trashed the shot. S-070 opened up with his LAAG, forcing the Banshee to change course only for it to fall into the sights of Lehkoken on the M68. The Gauss Cannon penetrated the armor and destroyed the Banshee. Elsewhere, a Prowler sped into the fray, taking aim for the Warthog driven by Corporal Clegg. The Prowler matched speed with the Warthog, and as the gap between the two vehicles closed an adventurous Brute Minor reached out to drag Private Paxson from her seat and allowing the woman to drop unceremoniously to her demise. Gunnery Sergeant Greene engaged with the LAAG, killing the offending Brute and the gunner before forcing the Prowler to disengage.

Ahead, a Locust had come online, its powerful plasma cannon threatening to cut short the human advance. S-070 leaned in close so the driver of the Spade, Lieutenant Kovac, could hear him. "Get me close," was all the massive Spartan said, and although Kovac wasn't enthusiastic about the idea he did as told.

The Locust was taking aim at the leading Warthog when the Spade sped past, S-070 jumping from the rear and slamming his armored shoulder into the back-left leg, denting the metal and forcing the walking platform to stumble as its foot slid in the snow. The Locust tried to right itself but the Spartan sent a bone-shattering punch into the rear-right leg, and demonstrating his raw strength the four-legged vehicle lost balance and fell with a dull thud. The Spartan, behind the defenseless Locust, opened up with his LAAG, the high-velocity rounds tearing into the cockpit and killing the pilot. Brutes moved to engage, flanking S-070 who hunkered down behind his thick armor before moving faster than one would think for his large size, bashing the nearby Brute Ultra with his shoulder before unloading his weapon into the other. The fallen Brute tried to get up but was quickly killed by a stomp to its head. Three Brutes with jump packs came down from above, and although outnumbering the Spartan they, too, were killed and served only as a minor annoyance. On foot, S-070 ran the remaining distance to the objective as the Warthogs covered him.

It was easy enough to gain access to the hangar. S-070 knew the passcode to unlock the smaller side entrance, and unlike the emergency shelter the code had not been randomized as no unauthorized access had been detected. The Spartan and BLACK Operatives quickly ducked inside, taking shelter inside the building as the Covenant converged on their location. The hangar was reinforced and would withstand much of whatever abuse the Covenant hurled its way, but the Locust were designed to cut through buildings and would breach the walls sooner rather than later, meaning the humans were racing against time to complete their objective.

The weapon they had come to destroy was waiting inside. The H/Y Mark X Armor Assault Platform, project name Assault Platform M4N713, a highly modified evolution of the century-old Mark IX Armor Defense System, or more affectionately known as the Mantis following its successful endeavors on Meridian. The walker maintained the basic shape of the Mantis but was substantially more armored and boasted an impressive armament which included a large-caliber variant of the M68 Gauss Cannon (right arm), four-point W/AV M7 G/GNR "Spartan Laser" that focused four beams onto a single target (left arm), coaxial HMG (chest), LAU-65D/SGM-151 missile pod (back), and, interestingly enough, a Z-4190 "Bubble Shield" deployment system. The weapon was designed to obliterate entire Covenant battalions with little to no support, and with a glance it seemed capable enough.

"Is that it?" Sergeant Loy asked with some awe in his voice.

"It is," answered S-070.

Their objective was to destroy the weapon so as to prevent its capture, but given the situation perhaps it was best to consider alternate options. The Mark X was designed to face Covenant battalions; conveniently enough a battalion was just outside the hangar doors.
Last edited by Beiarusia on Fri Sep 01, 2017 11:58 am, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Ubaria
Minister
 
Posts: 2811
Founded: Sep 14, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Ubaria » Wed Aug 30, 2017 7:23 pm

Sergeant Chae-Won Shin
ONI Research Facility / Ice Cave System - Everest
August 31st - 2549


Nothing came to greet Rector whilst they made their way back through the maze of caverns and connecting icy arteries, some of them littered with the corpses of previously defeated enemies unceremoniously left twitching and seeping into the cold ground, blood laced into every surface with patches of discarded weapon cartridges and magazines dotted throughout, a morbid artwork of post-battle carnage. Before long, Rector and their Spartan compatriot arrived at the Prowler hangar with the ONI scientists in close tow, not wanting to stray too far from their escort they were quick to board the ship when ordered whilst the soldiers would hold the perimeter around them.

"Lynch Actual this is Rector Actual, ONI scientists are aboard the Prowler, i repeat the package is aboard the Prowler -" Shin was cut off by the ear splitting shrill that to the trained ear could be attributed to a Skirmisher, moments after a pack came barreling full speed into the hangar area whilst lobbing plasma all the while, yet the maneuver was just a distraction and Rector found themselves under fire from a larger Covenant unit entering from elsewhere, led by yet another Brute Captain, not wasting any time it let out a barrage of explosive shells from the muzzle of his Brute Shot, the projectiles slamming into points in the ground like a mortar barrage, scattering crates, barrels and other loose cover like leaves in a breeze.

"We've been engaged!" As if Shin had to tell anyone in the hangar, the shout was more to notify Akiyama and anybody else on the net that their situation had taken a turn for the violent, quickly Shin span around and motioned for Caz to lay down counter fire on the advancing Jackals engaging their position, the marksman obliged and made a low dash for a nearby chest height set of metal palettes and set up his rifle, under intense fire several Jackals moved position and backed off.

"Where's our Spartan?"

Shin got his answer in the form of a violent shoved by what felt like a speeding truck, like a ragdoll he rolled several times across the floor and out of the blast radius of the Brute Shot that had almost claimed his life, instead S-014 absorbed most of the blow off her olive green MJOLNIR Armor, the blast didn't seem to affect her in the least as she returned fire.

"Take out that Baby Kong!"

Shin grunted and took several moments to re-compose and catch the breath he had ripped from his lungs whilst the sounds and sights of battle slowly faded back into focus around him and what was almost immediately apparent was the fact that the Covenant now surrounded them on several sides. Rifle gripped firmly in both hands, Shin made a dash for an overturned crate and began firing at a nearby Brute Minor that had pushed up far to close for comfort, the rounds slammed into its meaty hide on several occasions but the lumbering gorilla was like a speeding freight train, it could not be stopped by anything short of an M9 HEDP clanking at its feet, the green orb exploded in a brilliant ball of fire, closely followed by a wave of shrapnel that caused the Brute to stumble and fall to the floor with blood spiraling from its multiple fragmentation wounds just mere feet from the sergeant, he let off several magnum rounds through its cranium to finish Kong off.

Inside the Prowler, the scientist and personnel were doing their best to bring the ships close point defense weapons operational, hopefully the weapons would soften up the Covenant assault force and not mince Rector in the process, Shin ducked under a barrage of nearby plasma as the cover he was situated behind began melting under the intense temperatures.

"Fall back! Form a perimeter around the boarding gantry and do not fucking let Kong on board that ship"

Code: Select all
Lt. Cazenave: Suppressing --> Jackal Minor x3 (M392 DMR)
Sgt. Shin: Kill --> Brute Minor (M9 HEDP + M6 SOCOM)
Yo, that's mad.

User avatar
New Finnish Republic
Minister
 
Posts: 2653
Founded: Mar 30, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby New Finnish Republic » Fri Sep 01, 2017 7:51 pm

LCpl. Matti "Loki" Lehkonen
Experimental Weapons Hanger, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31 2549


The sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through Matti's veins managed to somehow keep himself from pissing his pants as they drove through the horde of Covenant. No matter how many they ran over, shot, or blew up, another took their place. The worst of it came when the Banshee nearly turned their assess into crispy bacon. Matti managed to get a lucky shot off that blew the thing sky high, but he knew his lucky would only last so long. And as a Locust began to aim their convoy, the Sniper was prepared to meet Wilson in hell when their Spartan destroyed it with his bare his. Jesus fucking Christ, what are those guys made out of, Matti thought in complete awe, and whatever it is, give me some of it!

Eventually, they made their way to the hanger where their objective was located. Matti's sense of awe switched from the Spartan to what mechanical beast stood in front of him. He noted a Gauss, an SGM-151, machine gun, and-

"IS THAT FOUR FUCKING W/AV's?!!!"

Matti was in love, there was no doubt. After seeing this thing, he sincerely doubted his heart would ever belong to anything else. Looking at the others, he gave a ornery grin.

"Please tell me I can pilot this thing. And keep it. And get another one painted cherry red."
Known mostly as Finn, but also known as a few other things I can't put in a signature by those who know me.

American who got left too long in the sauna.

Proud to spread Spurdo Nationalism from sea to shining sea.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17633
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Anowa » Fri Sep 01, 2017 10:28 pm

New Finnish Republic wrote:"Please tell me I can pilot this thing. And keep it. And get another one painted cherry red."

GySgt Wyatt Greene, Wyvern 1
Prototype Hangar, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

Greene simply looked over, "Negative Lance Corporal, as far as I'm aware the only two people present who trained on Manti is myself and the big green giant over yonder." Said Spartan merely hummed in response. "Besides I don't trust you not to get it stuck on a rock, damn thing's probably got six pedals."

Greene took a few steps towards it before pausing, "Spartan, I got a gift for you!" from it's place on his back, the ODST hefted the bubble shield he'd been carrying so far and unceremoniously dumped it on the ground. The massive human made way to pick it up, the object adhering to a magnetic strip on his thigh. Greene continued onwards, hafting the damage pack he wore and starting to climb the Mantis variant to get into it's access hatch.

Opening it up, he just barely managed to fit himself and the damage pack inside. Within a few moment the vehicle started to boot up. Over the radio Greene spoke up, "Hey big guy, this thing got a self destruct?"

"Negative, they weren't able to get it rigged properly, not enough room to implement it, otherwise we woulda been off this rock by now."

Greene sighed, "Good thing I brought my own then." the screen went live as the system booted up in it's entirety, a scroll of technobabble came up as it identified everything that was online or offline. Everything was green but the self destruct, which was obviously missing.

Clegg could only watch as the machine simply stood to it's full height, "Greene, no offense but aren't we supposed to be leveling that thing?"

"Well, we could be idiots and do that now, or we could glass the covenant battalion waiting outside like a bunch of fucking goobers. I'm taking the smart desicion... Believe me I've taken the other path before, sounds good, doesn't work." a pause, "Cover your ears!"

Clegg hunkered down behind something, already cluing in to what the man was about to do. Moments later the combo of the gauss cannons and the combi-splaser bored a hole trough the front entrance, the doors slowly falling away, revealing the horde of alien bastards waiting outside. Greene let loose with the HMG, spraying down the collection of infantry that was about to attempt a breach. At least a dozen fell as Brute, Jackal, and Grunt blood mixed into a modern art masterpiece. The Gauss cannon fired next, as the glowing face of a Locust made itself a target. The weapon gave an ear splitting crack as it reached hypersonic speeds, boring through the machine itself and the detonating in the hill behind it.

Then the mech started walking.

Missiles screamed out of the pod on the M4N713, targetting a few Banshees getting ready for strafe, they were kncoked free of the worldly plain as the fireball of their reactors consumed whomever piloted the craft.

A duo of Locust beams impacted the mech, making the machine list for a moment, and in that moment dozens of infantry and vehicles started laying into the craft. The built in bubble shield system kicked in, protecting the vehicle from further damage, but only for a short time. "Does someone mind thinning the herd out? I don't feel like cooking today!"

S-070 yelled out, in the baritone of a voice that all Spartans seemed to have in some form, "Let's give him some support!" moment later he was laying in to a nearby duo of Ghosts with his own armament. Shredding the duo of vehicles and their respective drivers.


Code: Select all
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Brute Ultra (BPR) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Brute Major (BS) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Brute Major (BS) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Jackal Major (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Heavy (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Heavy (FRC) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Minor (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Minor (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Minor (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Minor (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Grunt Minor (PP) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Locust (Brute Major (PR)) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Banshee (Brute Major (S)) [Killed]
GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) ---> Banshee (Brute Major (S)) [Killed]
Locust (Brute Major (PR)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
Locust (Brute Major (PR)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
Locust (Brute Major (PR)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
Ghost (Grunt Major (PP)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
Ghost (Grunt Major (PP)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
Ghost (Brute Ultra (PR)) ---> GySgt. Greene (Weapon to Surpass Metal Gear) [Hit]
S-070 (M41 LAAG) ---> Ghost (Grunt Major (PP)) [Killed]
S-070 (M41 LAAG) ---> Ghost (Grunt Major (PP)) [Killed]
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Tayner
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7913
Founded: Oct 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Tayner » Sat Sep 02, 2017 8:16 pm

Lance Corporal Marc Wilson
ONI Reasearch Facility, Everest, Himalaya system
Agust 31, 2549


Some would say that plasma burns felt like normal burns, but in this instance Marc would call bullshit and probably punch the person who said that in the face. Even the little amount of plasma that managed to spash into the driver's side of the cab sent Marc into extraordinary pain, and he screamed as he jerked the wheel around erratically, almost flipping the hog over once or twice. One could say that Marc was in total control of the situation, and that he toughed it out, but deep down Marc knew that it was blind luck that they weren't completely melted right now.

It didn't matter, somehow, in a blur he had found his way to the right place, and they quickly made their way inside. Marc didn't bother looking at the Mantis, instead tossing things aside in his rucksack as he searched for the bio-foam canister that he recovered from Toran's medical bag. He tossed it to Sergeant Loy, who applied it to the back of his head, where the brunt of the burn was. Some of the foam hardened up, covering and sterilizing the previously exposed burn. Marc cursed, the pain on the back of his skull being intense.

If there was one thing they thought me at boot camp, it was to ignore pain, no matter how fucking excruciating it is. He thought as he gathered himself and took note of the situation. Greene had mounted up in the "experimental weapon" they were supposed to destroy, and had kicked down the hangar door. Marc exited the door he entered from, and hopped back into the driver's seat, adrenaline being the only thing keeping him from blacking out.

"Let's get outta here!" Marc yelled to Matti and Farsi as he waited for them to mount up before punching the gas and rounding the corner of the hangar exposing the entire Covenant battalion to the guass cannon at Matti's hands. Matti would have to work quick to cover Greene, so Greene could return to murdering the Covenant battalion. "Hit those Locusts first and work your way down!" Marc called out as he nailed the e-brake and slid around some to evade a hail of plasma fire from a ghost before nailing the gas and smashing into the offending vehicle.

The tires tore apart the ghost's armor as the hog climbed over it, Marc taking notice as the grunt piloting the ghost bailed out. With one hand still on the wheel Marc withdrew his pistol, shooting the grunt four times before nailing the gas pedal again, getting the hell out of dodge, trying to put some distance between the Covenant's main force and himself and the others in his Warthog. "Everyone alright?" He asked as he brought the hog around on a dime utilizing the e-brake to drift 180°.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

User avatar
Futrellia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1696
Founded: Mar 29, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Futrellia » Sun Sep 03, 2017 8:39 pm

Lt. Edmond Wallace
UNSC Salt The Earth




The battle range was dimly lit as Edmond planted himself down on a stool a few feet away from the starting point of the obstacle course, a little invention made up to test a soldier's reaction time and to utilize their quick thinking. He let his ODST helmet drop to the ground with a thud, rolling onto it's side by his right foot. He pulled his BR55 Service Rifle to him, inspecting the chamber, the bright blue display, the scope, even the butt of the weapon. Loud heavy metal music played from his little speaker he had set up on the ammunition table behind him, something for him to enjoy, something for him to keep his mind occupied with. The truth was that Lieutenant Edmond Wallace hated idle time, hated the downtime in-between missions, forcing him to go so far as to pick up his weapon and fire at little holographic targets in a controlled environment. The thought of doing so without being ordered to made him sick. He was doing this voluntarily, which was out-of-character for him, but luckily no-one was around to see it. He loaded a round into the chamber and slammed the hammer back down into the rifle, placing it down between his legs so that they gun couldn't fall, pulling the M6 Magnum handgun from his leg-mounted holster. He went through the same procedure as before with his BR55, looking closely at the clip, the barrel, the handle. When Edmond decided he was satisfied with his weapons, he slid the Magnum back into it's holster, picked up his rifle in one hand and the helmet in the other and walked to the entry door.

The intercom erupted with a loud buzz, an older male's coarse voice speaking once the buzz had subsided.

"Chief Engineer Donetz, report to Lower Maintenance Shaft C. Repeat, Chief Engineer Donetz please report to Lower Maintenance Shaft C." The intercom cut off with a loud click, like someone slamming a phone down on it's base.

"Fuck that guy." Edmond said before slipping his helmet on, the visor polarizing and the HUD activating upon contact. He didn't know of Chief Engineer Donetz, and he didn't care to. He cared nothing for the guy and saying it made him feel better. He looked around at the HUD on his helmet as it came online. One by one, the systems slowly activated. First was the ammunition count for both of his weapons, his shields strength, his grenade count, and his objective markers.

As he stepped up to the red box painted onto the floor, the dome lights above the obstacle course lit up, with several supporting floodlights attached to poles at each corner of the course. Set before him was a large layout of concrete containers, crates, tunnels, and a few small buildings he'd have to get through. The objective was get through as fast as you can and leave no-one alive. Simple and to the point.

Above and to his right was a pole, lit up in a pattern of red, yellow and green lights. The three red lights vanished one by one as the countdown started. Edmond slammed his Battle Rifle's butt into his shoulder tight and he began controlling his heavy breaths. He moved his legs to get ready for a run. The yellow lights dwindled down until the last one, that gave him a delay for vanishing as well. All that was left was the green and a loud blare of an airhorn to signal his start. Edmond rushed through the entrance door, revealing a wide-open area with three crates facing him. Three red square targets rushed upwards, the lights pulsating. They didn't stay up long before the ODST popped three rounds into each without stopping his sprint. He moved past them into a long yellow hallway that dead ended ten yards ahead. He stared down the wall at the end as he sprinted forward. A yellow light flickered on with an arrow pointing right. Without missing a beat, Edmond turned right into a smaller room with a single red target that was quickly put down with a three-round burst. He exited the building with the next five yards ahead. A grenade icon appeared above the door, with six red targets rushing up from the ground. Edmond's right hand left the handle of his weapon as his left gripped the gun tightly to avoid it dropping. With his right hand, he reached around him to grab a practice grenade, pressed the red button and tossed it against the wall, bouncing off and landing in the middle of the six targets. The room flashed red as a loud buzzer went off, indicating that the room was clear. Edmond returned his right hand to his weapon and entered the room, panning over the room with his rifle. As he made his way out of the square concrete structure, he saw a small red ball floating on a small spire towards the ending of the course. This area would be more difficult to get passed. He would now have to grab the ball and take down the targets, though they were now equipped with tranq rifles. The rounds were guaranteed to knock your ass out for a solid ten minutes. Luckily, he wasn't planning on getting him, famous last words.

Edmond sprinted out, grabbing the ball and taking cover behind a wall of concrete that jutted out just high enough above his head. In front of him, two targets rose up, the tranq rifles attached to the center of them, waiting for a piece of him to jut out so they could take him down. Edmond approached the left side of the wall and waved his arm out just enough to catch their attention, causing both of them to train their focus on that side, firing off a few warning rounds at that area. Edmond quickly rushed towards the right side and pointed his rifle out, opening fire on the two targets. Using his exceptional skills, he knocked them both down just in time for him to take off sprinting towards the ending tunnel that was directly underneath the two defending targets. On both sides was walls that were at least 25 feet tall, and eight targets materialized on both sides, their rifles trained on the trooper as he sprinted through the area. In unison, they all opened fire, spraying the field with darts that littered the ground. Edmond jumped through the tunnel, landing down on his chest plate, picking himself back up when he stopped skidding and reached the end the line. The siren blared as the course ended and powered down.

Edmond began to feel dizzy, becoming hard for him to focus on a single thing. He dropped his rifle and ball as he went to lean up against a nearby table. He looked up at his record times. It read

"Old Record: 1:06 seconds
New Record: 56 seconds
FAILED"

The "Failed" part couldn't register with him, then he looked down at his ankle, where a sharp pain started to bother him. There it was, a dart sticking right out of his combat suit and between his suit's foot armor and the leg armor, right near the achilles heel.

"Fuckin' shit." He said faintly as he stumbled and fell to the ground, his helmet's HUD giving off a sudden flicker as his head smacked into the concrete floor. As he slowly started losing consciousness, he could only think about that little red ball. Because of that, he'd take a ten minute nap. He didn't know if this nap was a punishment or a blessing.

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Fri Sep 08, 2017 5:40 pm

    COVENANT
    ONI Research Facility, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The Jiralhanae Captain roared in frustration, pushing aside the Brute Minor that had brought news of the successful human counterattack. The Covenant had taken the facility, had slaughtered every man and woman without a shred of mercy, and yet the humans had endured, had bested them, a vastly superior force, and as one final insult were now in possession of a weapon that appeared nigh unstoppable. The Jiralhanae Captain was enraged. Plasma Cannon in hand, the behemoth stormed from the room so as to attend to this matter personally, believing that any weapon could be defeated by rage alone. The Jiralhanae would tear the humans apart and they would revel in the crimson snow. The humans would pay dearly for this affront.

The Jiralhanae Captain ducked low to pass through the too small doorway, muttering insults as he did, and was immediately halted by the only creature more irksome than a human: the Sangheili. Zealots at that. The Jiralhanae Captain ignored the fanatics but their commander beckoned him to approach. [Why are the humans still alive,] the Sangheili asked with little patience, the alien language eloquent but with an underlying edge.

[They will be dead soon enough,] the Jiralhanae Captain growled.

The Zealot commander was unimpressed. [Disappointing.]

The Jiralhanae Captain bared his teeth in challenge but said nothing more. The Sangheili watched as the Jiralhanae continued on their way, and only after they were gone was the question asked. [Demons?]

[Perhaps. The Jiralhanae have underestimated their enemy, but the humans have done well, too well. A Demon...] The commander turned to look at his unit, five Sangheili dressed in the ornamental armor of the Zealots. They had come to gather any Forerunner artifacts the humans had defiled, but circumstances appeared to have change, and killing a Demon was worth the delay. [If a Demon is here then we will hunt.] There was a murmured agreement between the Zealots. The Sangheili, not the Jiralhanae, would have the honor of killing such a great foe.

The Sangheili departed soon thereafter, and one-by-one they disappeared from sight.


    FIRETEAM WYVERN / CADMUS
    Testing Field, ONI Research Facility, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The Covenant unit had fallen into disarray.

The prototype Mark X, piloted by Gunnery Sergeant Greene, had cut through the Covenant ranks like a hot knife through butter, slaughtering those nearest the hangar in a spectacular display of firepower that forced even the most ferocious of Brutes to take pause. Not that the Covenant would so easily admit defeat. The Brutes attempted to rally their forces, but as the BLACK Operatives once more entered the field of battle it soon became apparent that the Covenant was losing ground.

Locust were converging against the prototype Mark X. Lance Corporal Wilson and Lance Corporal Lehkoken were successful in neutralizing the first of the four-legged machines, the 25x130mm slug penetrating the frontal armor at Mach 40, killing the occupant; the second and third Locust were flanked and disabled soon thereafter, allowing the prototype Mantis the opportunity to destroy a fourth with a barrage of missiles. The Covenant lines faltered; without adequate fire support the human advance could not be stopped. Grunts, Jackals, and Brutes were slain indiscriminately, their vehicles destroyed, and their dominance shattered. A superior foe had been near annihilated in the span of only a few minutes.

Wyvern and Cadmus successfully reached the facility without sustaining further casualties and quickly retreated inside just as Spirit dropships appeared over the tops of the surrounding mountains. S-070 provided overwatch as Greene set the C-12 charge from within the Mantis, giving himself and the others approximately 90 seconds to clear the area before the weapon, the vehicle depot, and anything with the misfortune to be caught within the blast radius were reduced to literal nothing.

The fireteams were nearing the elevators when they were engaged by a pack of Brutes led by an angry Captain.

"Call the elevator," S-070 said as he unleashed the fury of his M41 LAAG. The Brutes showed no fear as they charged the Spartan.


    FIRETEAM LYNCH / RECTOR
    Secondary Hangar, Cave System, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The Covenant assault was stopped dead in its tracks as the point-defense-guns opened up. The sound was deafening, the barrage of 50mm high-explosive rounds reverberating to painful highs in the confines of the hangar with the concussive force shaking the soldiers to their very bones, shattering stone and reducing the Covenant unit into nothing more than a fine red paste. The guns went silent and an uneasy stillness hung in the air. The BLACK Operatives slowly picked themselves up to survey the carnage, and would see that the pristine hangar carved deep into the mountainside was now a cratered ruin.

"Think we got 'em all?" Lieutenant Cazenave said as he nudged a disembodied hand that had landed near where he stood.

His answer came in the form of red plasma burning into his side. The Brute Captain and a handful of Covenant had survived the point-defense-guns, and with a wave of fury they unleashed all they had left against the battered humans, charging ahead recklessly in suicidal adrenaline with the intent to take as many souls with them into Hell. The Brute Captain ran full sprint towards Sergeant Shin. The Spartan, S-014, attempted to intercept but was engaged by the Brute Minor and could do nothing as enraged death hurdled towards the man. The Brute Captain was upon the sergeant when blood exploded from its head. Gunfire followed as Fireteam Lynch entered from behind the Covenant stragglers, finishing off the skirmish with quick efficiency.

S-234 patted Lieutenant Akiyama on the shoulder as she lowered her DMR. "Think we got it from here."

Akiyama called for Fireteam Rector to fall back towards the Pelicans. The BLACK Operatives had finished what they'd come to do (as evident by the shaking that signified the destruction of the prototype weapon) and would await for Wyvern and Cadmus before dusting off; the Spartans would see to it that the Pelican departed without further incident.

Before leaving Akiyama turned to give the Spartans a nod. A silent thanks that S-234 returned with a halfhearted gesture.

"Thought I gave you the easy assignment," S-234 said in response to his comrade's damaged armor. She could only shrug. With a small chuckle, the leader of Green Team contacted their missing compatriot. "Hey, Billy, keys are in the ignition and we're waiting for ya. ETA?"

S-070 was curt. "A little busy at the moment. Soon" — the comm cut out with a sound of plasma and the yowl of Brutes.
Last edited by Beiarusia on Mon Sep 11, 2017 7:01 pm, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Ubaria
Minister
 
Posts: 2811
Founded: Sep 14, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Ubaria » Mon Sep 11, 2017 8:45 pm

Sergeant Chae-Won Shin
ONI Research Facility / Ice Cave System - Everest
August 31st - 2549


The thunder of every point defense turret opening up in unison physically rocked the expanse of the hangar bay; enough to the point that it became difficult to breathe after being pelted with pressure wave after pressure wave, everything that wasn't bolted to the floor was thrown around like a toy, including both Covenant and Human. Thankfully the weapons were accurate enough to avoid Rector and only hit the advancing Covvie assault force, anything that was unfortunate enough to catch a 50mm simply didn't exist afterwards, their remains practically evaporated by the intensity. After a moment or two of relentless auditory and physical abuse, the guns ceased and the hangar was plunged into a vacuum like silence, only the singing of battered eardrums to be heard. Shin took a moment to stand and observe the smoldering ruin.

"Think we got 'em all?" Cazenave asked, kicking a severed alien hand with a smug grin plastered over his face.

Shin nodded, depolarizing his visor. "Don't think they expected that." He remarked.

Their guard had been let down, it was foolish and unprofessional to think that the fight was over just yet and their mistake would cost them dearly. Shin had barely opened his mouth to speak by the time it had happened, helpless to stop it, he could only watch as Cazenave took the plasma round to the chest, the heated bolt instantly burning a fist sized hole through his outer plate; the physical brunt of the force sending him flying several feet backwards off his feet. The perpetrating Brute let out a furious roar, flashing its dulled fangs before taking off full tilt towards the sergeant with great leaping strides, it's gorilla like fists acting as an extra boost to propel it at frightening speed.

'Click'


The DMR was dry.

Shin let out a frustrated yell and transitioned to his sidearm to let off what shots remained in that, which wasn't much, a few magnum rounds didn't do anything to stop the freight trains worth of muscle, fur and primal rage barreling toward him and when that eventually ran out, he drew his knife out of pure desperation, knowing it was about as effective as a toothpick, he wouldn't go out without a fight. Shin was practically face to face with the beast, his knife raised up and tilted towards the Brutes throat, but before it put its full bodyweight into him, blood erupted from its forehead and the deadly beast stumbled sideways and came crashing to the floor.

It took several moments for Shin to realize what had happened, he remained standing with his knife raised in one hand, his other on a grenade that was dangerously being close to primed. Eventually he snapped from his daze and threw his knife to the ground, bolting for where Cazenave had went down.

"Don't move Lieutenant, you're going to be fucking a-ok do you hear me Helljumper!?" Shin knelt down and used his arm to prop Caz's head upwards, only up close could he see the extent of the damage. Plasma had eaten through both layers of armor, the lower bodyglove had melted away and remains of it were fused to his exposed skin which in turn was badly crisped from the exposure, severed blood vessels oozed crimson onto the ground.

"Sergeant? I....i'm hit Sergeant..." Caz spluttered, panicking when he felt the torrent of blood flowing from the gaping hole in his chest. Shin did his best to reassure the panicking soldier by gripping his head, turning it toward him.

"You're going to be fine. Medic!" Both Medics however were already dead.

"listen...my mother...give thi...this to my mother..." Caz fumbled around in the neck area of his armor, the trembling of his hands suggested he was already starting to lose motor function, slowly he produced a bloody folded piece of paper. Caz shoved the crumpled paper into Shin's hand and continued pleading with his dying breaths; "Don't let them win.". Shin continued holding the soldier in his arms until the last moments when his eyes glazed over and the trembling ceased, even after so many, it never got any easier, it never would. Shin hauled the body up in both arms and staggered over to the group, like hell was he leaving his corpse to rot in this frozen waste.

"We lost Cazenave" Shin stated bluntly.
Last edited by Ubaria on Mon Sep 11, 2017 9:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Yo, that's mad.

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Sun Sep 24, 2017 10:24 am

    QUASAR
    Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

The transports were flying low with the craggy walls of the raving towering on either side. Covenant aircraft (Spirits and Banshees) were in the vicinity, forcing the two Pelicans to take an indirect flightpath in an effort to avoid any unnecessary confrontations. The ONI Prowler, too, followed the canyon, treading a wider path and dipping overhead when forced to do so. No danger had yet to come their way but neither did they risk overstaying their welcome.

QUASAR had completed its objectives. Twenty-seven VIP's had been secured, asset denial was achieved, and the ONI research facility would be demolished momentarily thus ending UNSC interests on Everest. Casualties had been moderate to severe, but the appearance of Spartan Green Team had turned a grim situation to one that was slightly less than FUBAR, demonstrating in vivid detail the standard that BLACK was meant to live up to. The mission had been difficult, greatly so, but, ultimately, was a success, proving once again the effectiveness of the special operations unit against all odds. Moreover, the Covenant had suffered a demoralizing black eye, which was reward enough.

The 600-ton tungsten slug impacted the facility with pinpoint accuracy, Dawkins having used gravity and complex mathematical equations to ensure a direct hit despite the ship holding position on the far side of the planet. With little warning the facility was cratered, the impact killing most of the Covenant battalion that had come to reinforce the besieged unit, but near instantly the shielding of the underground reactor was breached, and the destabilized core, now lacking its final safety parameter, went critical with a flash as everything within five kilometers was vaporized. The shockwave traveled much further, sending snow and rock raining down upon the transports that, too, were shaken from the explosion. There was nothing left but a crater and the radioactivity of the nuclear event. The Covenant in orbit were panicking as the situation spiraled to its ultimate conclusion. QUASAR, the Spartans, and the surviving scientists were beyond notice and escaped the atmosphere uncontested.

Little was said as the transports returned to the Salt the Earth.


UNSC Salt the Earth, Everest, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549[/list]

Lieutenant Akiyama stepped into the bridge, still dressed in her combat gear with only the helmet removed, the light tones of her skin a stark contrast to the black of the armor. Lieutenant Commander Mcrae nodded in greeting and she returned the gesture.

QUASAR had returned aboard the ship only a few minutes prior. The crew were in the process of seeing to the injured or the dead that had been recovered, but Akiyama had been requested on the bridge the moment she had set foot on the ship. The Salt the Earth was moving quickly (but carefully to avoid detection) to the outer limits of the solar system to prepare for slipspace entry beyond the sun's gravity; the ONI Prowler was doing much the same.

"Have fun?" the A.I. asked from his holo-pedestal.

Akiyama moved straight to the point. "You needed me?"

Mcrae nodded once more. "Dawkins was doing some digging while you were ground-side."

"About that Covenant ship," the A.I. clarified. He then pulled archived footage of said ship onto the main viewscreen, showing the vessel in combat against a beleaguered UNSC fleet. "The ship has been identified as the Burner of Faith, an Covenant heavy cruiser commanded by a Brute War Chieftain named Ossus." The footage changed to that of a helmet feed showing a doomed fireteam of marines engaging a pack of Brutes, leading them a massive ape, clean shaven with a thick beard, wearing ornate armor and wielding an intricate Gravity Hammer adorn with Covenant glyphs. Dawkins finished with, "We believe Ossus to be responsible for leading several campaigns against the inner colonies, the most recent being Verent."

"ONI has placed an assassination order on the ape," Mcrae added as if that explained why Akiyama had been called to the bridge.

As Akiyama considered this information Dawkins said, "I was able to calculate the cruiser's slipspace jump. It's quite interesting where it went off to." Mcrae told Dawkins to be curt so the A.I. cut short his superfluous tone. "Skopje. The Covenant appear to have some interest in the planet."

Skopje was an inner colony that was glassed in 2547. Some of those aboard the Salt the Earth had fought there, and considering the standing assassination order they might well be going back. Killing Ossus would be another major blow against the Covenant. At the very least QUASAR could gather reconnaissance on the Covenant and their purpose on the former human colony. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. With no means to bring the matter to ONI Akiyama had to make the decision. It wasn't a difficult choice.

Skopje would have its homecoming.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17633
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Anowa » Sun Sep 24, 2017 11:44 pm

GySgt Wyatt Greene, Wyvern 1
En Route to the Bridge, Salt of the Earth / August 31, 2549

Casualty reports always held an ungodly weight to them. Even if they were just by word of mouth, they still had the weight of death upon them. The datapad in Greene's hands held the same weight, even though not all of the names upon it had been killed, they had still brushed close enough with the ethereal man in black that their years would yet be numbered.

Yet they still fought. All of them. That's why humanity wouldn't lose this war, every man woman and child knew the stakes, and if it took a single corpse to fill the gap, there were millions of people asking for a reason.

Greene stepped on to the bridge, the weight of Paxson, Silverstein, McLean, Toran, and Anderson all weighing down the datapad with the solemnity of death.

Greene surveyed the room as the command team seemed to go over their next step. A panel on the far side of the bridge playing tricks on his eyes in the light, Greene noticed he wasn't the only one.

"Hey, Black?" came the voice of a bridge crewman. Coffee cup in hand as he looked at the panel.

"What is it this time Bjorn?" came the Aussie accented reply from a fellow crew member. The woman's exasperation was audible as she rubbed her temples.

"Do the lights on this panel usually blink this much?" His concern was followed by a click... a very very discernible click. The room seemed to pause for a single moment.

It was the click of a Sangheili's mag holster being disengaged.

In an instant, a flash of blue came to life as a black armored beats faded back into existence. Bjorn was cleaved nearly in half as his body, legs, and cup flopped to the ground, dead.

Greene's hand reached his Magnum.

The Elite swung at one of the security officers on the deck, creating a massive slash across the man's chest and bisecting his weapon. His left forearm flopped the the ground now absent from any mental signal.

Greene's sidearm cleared it's holster.

Another security officer started taking potshots, carefully avoiding anyone surrounding the ET or any instruments. It did the woman little, as the few shots she could land safely were merely blocked by a flash of blue energy shielding. She two was cut down.

Greene's safety came off.

The Elite had bounded across a console manned by a ensign, the crew member well aware of what just happened, and he promptly emptied his bladder, expecting to be cleaved in twain by the eight foot monster that all but stepped over him. At this point, it was obvious the elite was making a beeline for either Dawkins or the Captain. And by God neither would be allowed to be taken off this ship.

With every gun in the room pointed at the Elite, rounds started flying, a mild sense of panic meaning they weren't shooting safely, rounds could bounce, and in this confined space of a bridge it meant people could die. Yet Greene couldn't help himself from spraying alongside them. Dozens of rounds pelted into the Elite, and moment after moment the three foot prongs of plasma and the energy shielded mass drew closer and closer, until the shields broke, and rounds started pounding into it's body.

The best was determined, still pushing onwards despite the Lieutenant standing fast between him and his target, and then the unexpected happened.

A marine had managed to use a console as a bounding board, and stuck the landing via knife point into the Elite's neck. And now the tenacious bastard was hammering away while screaming bloody murder. Greene drew closer as did the 6 remaining security personnel, their weapons raised as the knife kept plunging in and out of the Elite's neck and jaw. Until the bastard finally dropped, on top of the brave motherfucker that had jumped him.

A few crew members rolled the alien off thew man and helped him too his feet, and the sound of a dozen more rounds echoed as the remaining security crew emptied their mags into the Covenant fuck.

Greene simply looked over at Akiyama and stated in a very solid voice, the kind of voice that spoke less from concern and more from experience, "Elites never fight alone."
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Tayner
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7913
Founded: Oct 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Tayner » Wed Sep 27, 2017 8:17 pm

Lance Corporal Marc Wilson
UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya System
Agust 31, 2549


Seargent Loy and Matti both helped Marc down the corridors to sick bay. Farsi wasn't far behind, moving on his own power, and Corporal Pecreccas was being helped along by one of the ship's crewmen. The group eventually made it to sickbay where they were to be treated for their wounds. Marc was the first, with plasma burns and lacerations in his chest from a needler, he was the most wounded. The nurse took his shotgun out of his hands, almost having to pry it out of his fist, and set it aside. "You're the most beautiful thing I've seen all day." He said to the nurse as she simply smiled and going about her job.

"And you're they most cooked thing I've seen all day." She remarked.

"I don't think I taste better than the Salisbury Steak they serve in the mess." Marc said, wincing as he finished his sentence. The adrenaline was wearing off now, and the pain was setting in, the nurse saw this, and went off to get some painkillers while the doctor prepared for treatment of his burns. "Fucking hell." Marc uttered as he opened one of his chest containers, and withdrew a can of dip.

"Tell me about it." Captain Farsi said as Marc put a pinch in his mouth, and offered the can to the man who was on the bed next to his. "Please." Farsi said before Marc tossed the cylinder over, and taking a pinch of his own. "Thanks." He said as he tossed it back.

"Loy?" Marc said offering The can to him, the seargent sticking around for a few minutes to keep the wounded company.

"No, I quit that shit." He said.

"I'll take mister high and mighty's serving then." Matti piped up, getting a hard stare from Sergeant Loy as Marc tossed over the can. "Thanks." He said as he took his own pinch. Marc took out his damaged helmet, and decided it was solid enough to hold spit, and tossed it to Farsi to spit in, who managed to toss the helmet back at Marc without spilling, who then spit in the helmet before going to make his pass to Matti. He tossed the damaged helmet to the Finn, but suddenly it simply ricocheted mid air, as if it bounced off something, just as this happened an alarm went off as the helmet hit the deck, spilling blackened spit all over the place.

"The fuck?" Marc said before he realized what happened. The eight foot beast in front of him decloaked, and it's energy sword came to life as it looked down upon Marc. "Fuck!" Marc yelled as he threw himself off the opposite side of his bed, hitting the deck hard as the Elite sliced at him, only chopping the bed in half with their shaped plasma. Wilson dove over Farsi, towards the direction where he saw the nurse set the shotgun aside, nearly dragging the captian with him as he dove over the bed. The Elite had since jumped to follow him, landing just in front of Farsi, grabbing the Captain by the neck.

A shotgun shell delivered to the Elite's side while he was rearing back his swordarm caught them off guard, as they dropped the officer and turned to the offending marine, Marc. The beast roared as it started to run at Marc, as he fired his second shot, it's shield flaring even brighter this time. "Fuuuuccck!" He yelled, adrenaline starting to kick in again, as he hopped members of his team would join in on the fight.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

User avatar
New Finnish Republic
Minister
 
Posts: 2653
Founded: Mar 30, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby New Finnish Republic » Wed Sep 27, 2017 9:37 pm

Lance Corporal Matti "Loki" Lehkonen
UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya System
August 31, 2549


The ride back to Salt the Earth had been a quiet one. They had completed the objectives that ONI had given them, but the empty seats served as a reminder for everyone of the cost it had taken. For those who managed to come out alive, they were returning burnt, blasted, and cut up from the whole ordeal. And while nobody would ever say it out loud, everyone knew that it wouldn't be long until they'd find themselves in the same situation, as ONI only allowed the dead to rest.

Still, in the meantime, Matti was ready to enjoy the break from action as soon as they got everyone settled in. So when their Pelican finally arrived to their destination, he was quick to help Wilson to the Sick Bay. Once they got there, he dropped Wilson off to one of the nurses, one which Wilson seemed to take a liking to. Matti couldn't help but chuckle a little bit watching his friend try flirting with the woman, however quickly regretted that as his wound on his back burned from the effort.

Gritting his teeth, he found the nearest open bed and sat down, his rifle laying haphazardly next to him. When Wilson offered him a dip, he happily accepted it and put what enough of the chewing tobacco in to create a "Horseshoe" in his lip. He'd tried to quit chewing for months now, but every time he came back from operations like this the numbing buzz seemed to be the only thing able to calm him down. Tossing the can back to Wilson, he was about to ask what he was going to use for a spitter when Wilson began using his helmet. Matti just shrugged at the sight and was prepared to take his turn in spitting when suddenly the helmet was stopped mid flight by...something.

"Should've known dip was going to kill me eventually."

And all hell broke loose. The Elite, now forgoing his camouflage, began to attack the group of wounded operators. Cursing, Matti reached for his rifle and tried to shoot the alien, but the faint sound of clicking was all he got from pulling the trigger. Looking down in confusion, Matti realized he did have a magazine in the rifle. By then, the Elite was already charging towards Wilson, who had already put two slugs into the Elite to no avail. It was a matter of seconds before the creature would reach him, so Matti did the only thing he could do.

Grabbing the barrel of the rifle, he turned and swung his rifle at the Elite's head like a major leaguer trying to hit one out of the park. Matti felt his momentum suddenly stop, and when he looked up, he realized this wasn't due to him knocking the thing down. No, unfortunately for him, the Elite had only caught the butt of the rifle with one hand, and after what looked to be a small grin tossed the sniper like a ragdoll into the nearest wall, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him stunned.

Thinking it had eliminated the threat, the Elite once again turned its attention to Wilson who had been forced to hold off shooting the thing to avoid shooting Matti. But as it took a step towards him, it felt a series of thuds against its back, its shields dangerously flaring as it turned back around to see the injured sniper finish unloading the last few rounds of his sidearm into it. However, this proved to be a mistake, as Wilson was able to put another slug into the alien, putting its shield almost at its breaking point. The Elite, realizing this, leaped backwards several feet in what must have been an attempt to get out of the immediate range of the shotgun, instead choosing to renew its offensive on the others inside the room that were too slow to get out of its way. The screams of both nurses and the wounded were cut short as the plasma blade sliced through their bodies like a hot knife through butter.

Cursing out loud, Matti loaded another magazine into his sidearm and took aim, this time prepared to put the damn thing down once and for all.
Known mostly as Finn, but also known as a few other things I can't put in a signature by those who know me.

American who got left too long in the sauna.

Proud to spread Spurdo Nationalism from sea to shining sea.

User avatar
Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5765
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Turmenista » Thu Sep 28, 2017 4:17 pm

    Ensign Thomas Bradley
    UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya System / 2549

In the short, uneventful and deathly-quiet ride back to the Salt from Everest, Ensign Bradley contemplated life.

They'd done everything the mission called for. Absolutely everything. Technically, it was a success. Everest's weapons testing facility had been reduced to a smoldering crater in the earth, with a huge swathe of Covenant bastards vaporized in the MAC blast and subsequent nuclear explosion. The arrival of Spartans, to say the least, had spiced things up a little, but their bittersweet victory came at a frightening cost: Six men had died. Six good men.

Bradley knew ONI. They'd hardly ever bat an eye to numbers like these unless it was one of their half-a-ton green playthings. Minor losses like these were considered negligible on the scale of how many people were dying from the Covenant's glassing campaign alone. Six men in a normal battle would be passed off as "non-critical" losses to ONI. But these were no ordinary men. QUASAR was no ordinary unit. Even on his first mission as part of the team, it had been clearly evident to him. Every man and woman on this damn team - even the god damn A.I. on the ship - was far from normal, and far from "non-critical" in battle. Lieutenant Cazenave, Corpsmen Toran and Anderson, Corporal McLean, Private First Class Silverstein, and Private Paxson deserved better than that.

But, ONI was ONI. He was not sad that they were dead, moreso than he was happy to be alive yet another day to be fucked with by aliens and spooks like.

His arrival upon the Salt was the perfect segue into a well-needed rest, and more work to do. As with his introduction to the team back on Reach when he briefly accompanied Akiyama to the bridge, Ensign Bradley again found himself meditating to the sound of boots clanking against the floor, slowly trailing the much taller woman to the bridge to receive his obligatory task from the brass for the day. While he wasn't too interested in the debrief that was more of Akiyama's thing, he did briefly hear the word Skopje thrown around, which corresponded to a world which, up until this point, he'd forgotten in the dozens of glassed planets he'd seen before. While she did her thing, Bradley did his, briefly stopping by Communications to briefly pull out his datapad and lean by the console.

"Some sort of transmission or something, we don't know yet. Maybe you can help us out with it," the crewman explained. "They really must be wanting to keep this one a secret. Lots of encryptions."

Bradley's fingers tapped on the top of his Recon helmet as he nodded slowly, then took a glance at the new notification on his datapad. "I've got it. I'll see what I can do."

As he promptly left the bridge, Ensign Bradley briefly passed Greene, who seemed too involved in using his own datapad to even respond to the Ensign's nod to the Gunny. Bradley didn't blame him. The man was a rock, but even rocks had weak spots. Probably doing the casualty report now, he figured, turning the corner to his own quarters. The boots clicking along the floor, most likely Akiyama leaving the bridge now, followed him as he entered the Officer's quarters, plopped down on his desk, and went to work.

The first thing he noticed when working on this was how much the Covenant tried to encrypt this, as if it were a sensitive transmission much like one the UNSC would send to someone of high importance. The keyword here was tried, as the Covenant communications often were not as eloquent or collected as their human counterparts were. There were many instances of many aliens yelling over one another at one time in the heat of the battle, and even moreso in this mission, especially in the time stamp of Darwkins' dramatic smiting of the facility from orbit. He wasn't here to take glances at Covenant banter and screaming, though. What caught his attention was the timestamp the Communications crew marked important, that being the encrypted line of communication.

An earbud in one ear, he played the line over and over again, trying to gain some meaning out of it in relation to the translation software. From what the software was able to do, and from his own knowledge, something along the lines of a "fire" and a "ship" made a few references. What ship? Bradley briefly contemplated the possibility of the ship in question being the Salt, then remembered the mentioning of a Covenant ship back on the bridge briefing he overheard. Returning to his work, he faced the line. A few tweaks and modifications here and there, and he had something that he could work with - a certain, troublesome word that he felt would piece the whole thing together.

The white text flashed on his communication software screen as he ran the distorted voice through the software once more.

"O-o-a"



He frowned, then hit the play button again.


"Oss-n-a"



Then again.


"Ossoona."



Bradley leaned back as he stared at the pixels on the screen ahead of them. "Ossoona?" What did they mean by this? How did some abstract alien word relate to a ship and a fire? The Covenant were very much known for being obscure and alien - no pun intended - but this had to be one of the most obscure things he'd read all day.

That was until the alarms went off and a thumping went off in the quarters. Whipping his head around to the door, Ensign Bradley witnessed an irregularity in the tiny lights on the wall indicating the light switches, before the air in front of him grabbed hold of his neck and pinned him to the wall. He kicked his legs against the invisible force, desperate for air and to be free, but paused momentarily as the monster de-cloaked, revealing himself to the Ensign and holding the green light of a plasma pistol in front of his face.

He was going to die. He was going to die and nobody would know. Nobody. He was stranded from help and cornered by an eight foot tall monster about to plant a lethal dose of superheated plasma into his head. Then he remembered the six dead from Everest. He remembered how they had all gone down trying to do something. As, in his mind, heroes.

If he was going to die, he might damn well go down as a hero.

The Dino motherfuck had left Bradley's arms to dangle, seemingly to mock the human's failed efforts to let himself free of the vice grip on his neck. In doing this, he had allowed the Ensign to draw his blowtorch from his side holster while he wasn't looking. By the time he heard a fwoomp and saw the flame to the handheld torch activate, it was far too late. He could only take the hit as a five pound object clunked the side of the fuck's head, causing him to briefly loosen his grip of the human. Adjusting the flame to a precise tip very much like the one he'd used to cut through the wall back on Everest, Bradley then directed the blowtorch to the only place he knew would hurt - the underside of the Shark-looking fucker's jaw, where he knew the least armor in his helmet would be - then began to cut away.

The sound of a blowtorch cutting and welding metal was one thing to hear. The sound of shields popping was another thing. But the sound of a 5000°F flame burning the insides of an alien's mouth was a sound to behold. The alien dropped his plasma pistol - and Bradley - following this, and let out a bone-chilling, gluttural roar from his damaged throat . Bradley chimed in and dropped to all fours as the alien's shields recharged, swiftly grabbing the Elite's sidearm lying on the floor and his torch as he made a beeline towards the door. A blue light behind him motivated him to run faster as the Elite charged after him, essentially bursting his way through the door - and into two security personnel in the process.

An MA5K was discharged at full auto as a three foot long, oddly-shaped tuning fork made of shaped plasma sailed through the air, effortlessly severing limb from body as the security personnel were quickly dispatched. Much to his dismay, Bradley heard the Elite thumping after him as he sprinted towards Engineering, looking to lose him in the maze of pipes and consoles for long enough before any additional help would arrive to alleviate his concerns.

The concern was, of course, about his survival when the choking, eight foot tall giant entered the room, briefly clenching the hole in the underside of his jaw before assuming his camouflage, his blue blade disappearing with him.

Footsteps slowly encroached on his position as small drops of alien blood began to cover the floor.
Last edited by Turmenista on Thu Oct 12, 2017 5:52 pm, edited 3 times in total.

User avatar
Tayner
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7913
Founded: Oct 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Tayner » Thu Sep 28, 2017 7:42 pm

Lance Corporal Marc Wilson
UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya System
Agust 31, 2549


Matti had been tossed aside by the four jawed fuck, but it'd take more than that to kill the manlet. The Elite withdrawed, striking down a doctor with his blue sword as he made his way outside of Marc's range. Two security personnel rushed in, and started firing their sidearms, but the Elite returned fire with his plasma pistol, reducing their chest cavaties to scorched chunks of flesh. Marc knew that he couldn't let it's shields regenerate, and made one of the stupidest decisions in his life.

He dove out of cover, the Elite firing three blasts just at his feet before Marc started sprinting towards the interloper. Loy had also taken in what was happening, and started to blitz the Elite too, firing a short burst from his rifle until the Elite dashed towards the two men, meeting them halfway. The beast made a swipe with it's energy sword and Loy's weapon was torn in two, but Marc managed to fire off his last shotgun shell, the projectiles tearing through the thing's shields and ripping into it's armor and flesh.

It roared as it fired it's sidearm frantically, missing the operators but hitting a corpsman's arm, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He'd probably lose everything below the elbow, but he'd live. Marc used his shotgun as a thrown weapon for the second time for the day, the piece of metal hitting it hard enough to knock it down in it's weakened state. Loy and Marc both promptly emptied their sidearm's clips into the flailing alien, killing it as two more security personnel entered the room.

"Man, fuck." Marc said. The entire fight had consisted of curse words, and lead being thrown at the Elite. A doctor as well as some of the nursing staff had been killed, as well as some of the security officers who had responded. They were lucky enough that they managed to toss enough lead at it as they did, otherwise the Elite could have easily cut down everyone on the deck. Marc looked over at Loy, who was staring at his hand, which was missing a few didgets. "Corpsman!" He yelled.

"Shit man, I lost my ring finger." Loy said. "Where the fuck is my wedding ring?" He yelled, more concerned about the piece of metal than his fingers. After all, the doctors could give him some new prosthetics, or even some flash cloned ones if need be. "Shit that hurts." He said as the nurse Marc previously flirted with came over and looked at Loy's hand before taking him to the nearest cot to stop the bleeding and apply some antibiotics. Marc looked down to the floor, seeing three gloved fingers.

"Man, fuck." He repeated as he reached down and grabbed them. He went over to the nurse, and simply held them out. "You- he- shit..." he said.

"It's alright." She said, depositing the fingers into a plastic bag before putting them into a sealed container and into a refrigerator, or freezer, or something. "Here, sit down." She said as she helped him to the next cot over. "What year is it?" She said, checking him for shock as she looked at his burns, and his chest wound that was re-opened during the fight.

"It's '49." Marc replied. "Please, help him." Marc said as he motioned to Loy, but instead she applied some cream to his plasma burns before responding.

"He'll be fine, let me work on you for a minute." She said, taking off Marc's chestplate, and using some trauma shears to cut through his undershirt, revealing what damage the needles had done. "It looks worse than it is." She said. "This might hurt." She added as she withdrew a bottle of sterilization fluid and applied it to the wound, which felt like rubbing salty vinegar into an open wound. By now more medical personnel were on site, as well as security officers, the place was swarming. "You feeling alright?" She asked, holding her hand up as to reassure him after she finished dressing the wound.

"I am now," he said, taking her hand in his own as if it were out of a movie. She pulled back, but soon leaned forward again as if she were going to kiss him.

"Nurse May!" One of the doctors called, snapping her and Marc back to the world around them.

"I'm fine, you've got a job to do." Marc said, noticing that she was somewhat reluctant to leave.

"I'll see you later then, trooper." She said as she stood up and got whisked away in the crowd of people, helped the doctor move the corpsman who got hit in the arm to the surgery bay. Marc could only lay there with his thoughts to keep him company, what happened in the mission, what happened just now, what happened back on Paris IV. It seemed like death surrounded the BLACK team, their enemy striking even on their own ship.

That, however, did raise a question. How the fuck did they get on board? He muttered another curse to himself as he looked at the ceiling, waiting to figure out what happens next.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

User avatar
Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5765
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Turmenista » Fri Sep 29, 2017 10:12 am

    Ensign Thomas Bradley
    Engineering, UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya System / 2549


In hindsight, Ensign Bradley realized that using his blowtorch on the Elite was a stupid idea. Not only did it do nothing but piss him off, it also gave the Elite a proper incentive to kill him rather than to just keep himself from being caught by the humans. He was already lone and cracking through Covenant radio dispatches he wasn't supposed to, and alone someone like him wouldn't last a second against an Elite determined to kill him, let alone an injured one.

Although he was cloaked, Ensign Bradley could hear the alien warrior. Guttural, choking noises were coming from his helmet, as the uniform thumping of heavy footsteps in Engineeeing signaled to him that the Elite was mobile, and hunting for him. As he saw before, one slash was all he needed to dispatch him, and by all means Bradley wasn't going to be in his way when that sword swung. He too went mobile, instead crawling on all fours through the maze of pipes and computer consoles as the Elite neared his location.

Violet droplets of alien blood covered the floor in random locations as the Elite paused, notably to rest. Bradley swung into an inlet built from the wall, near one of the engineering consoles. His hands shook like an old man with Parkinson's as he briefly swore to himself, taking his alien souvenir from his holster as he slowly raised his helmet to view his reflection in its orange visor. I'm not a religious man, but to whatever higher power that's been saving my ass for the past 24 hours, I'm gonna need your help.

He had to think like an Elite in order to survive one. They were attentive as hell, a stark contrast to the somewhat dim-witted and single minded Brutes they'd faced on Everest. Sneaky he could do. Unfortunately for him, his split-jawed friend likely had a motion tracker in his own helmet. An idea suddenly formed in his mind as he put on his own Recon helmet, the Heads-up-Display indicating all of the necessary systems he felt were unnecessary at the moment. Notably, his motion tracker was glitching, showing an absurdly large amount of enemies, likely from the Elite's camouflage module, as he activated his VISR. The Orange visor on the Recon Helmet turned into an opaque onyx as the VISR illuminated the area; he lowered his breathing, listening in closely for more auditory cues.

Metal clanking echoed down the corridor. The Elite was mobile.

Bradley's VISR focused on a large console situated at the center of Engineering. The Elite was at a safe distance away, and he crawled over to this console, making sure to listen to the Elite's grunting and stomping lest he be snuck up on. His TACPAD briefly filled the slightly dark area with a blue light as he drew a long computer cable from his belt, jamming it into the console, his fingers promptly tapping away on the TACPAD's glowing blue surface like the fingers of a pianist playing life his life depended on it.

Really hope Dawkins doesn't hate me for this... he looked up? briefly checked his surroundings, counted to three just as the Elite turned the corner, and then cut the lights.


Instantly, the Elite paused, resorting to blindly groping his way around the area as Bradley's VISR switched to a low visibility mode, giving him the advantage of sight as the Elite was limited to a strictly auditory pursuit. With his free hand, Bradley drew his silenced M6C from his ankle holster, wielding both the alien pistol and his own in each hand as he began to stalk the Elite. While the Elite generally knew his location from his motion tracker, the labyrinth of pipes and consoles was proving to be difficult for him to navigate through. He was going in circles.

Bradley slowly took aim at the pipes beside the newly-forming puddles of alien blood in front of him. His safety flicked off. The Elite turned to the noise, his shields flashing as a round bounced off of him. He growled, preparing to strike, only to have a white plume of coolant blown in his face, briefly illuminating his silhouette in Bradley's VISR as his blade activated. The pipes beside him were cleaved in two by the two-pronged sword, producing even more hissing and smoke as he growled in frustration. Bradley, now with the perfect auditory buffer, holstered his sidearm and sprinted full speed across the corridor until he found himself facing the exposed back of the eight foot outline of an Elite, cornered by the deathly cold cloud of coolant. As this happened, the Ensign took the Plasma Pistol, raising up with two hands as he took aim at the patient Elite, still listening for auditory cues. He recalled briefly reading about miscellaneous battle reports, including an account of the more competent Grunts in battle "cooking" their plasma pistols to produce a sort of charged shot, effectively acting as an EMP which was often used in disabling vehicles such as warthogs. If he was correct, he could use the same effect here - this time on the Elite - hopefully to drain his shields long enough to gain the upper hand, or at least catch him off guard.

The steam was coming out of the ruptured pipes at a slower rate. It was now or never. Ensign Bradley held down what he thought to be a trigger on the alien weapon, a green miasma of light appearing from the pistol's firing port as the weapon began to shake and sway uncontrollably in his hands. By the time the Elite had turned around to investigate this, it was far too late.

Ensign Bradley let go of the trigger. Visual distortion and rainbows of radiation splashed across his screen as a glowing green fireball sailed across the hallway towards the Elite.
Last edited by Turmenista on Thu Oct 12, 2017 6:03 pm, edited 4 times in total.

User avatar
Futrellia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1696
Founded: Mar 29, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Futrellia » Fri Sep 29, 2017 7:51 pm

Lieutenant Edmond Wallace
UNSC Salt The Earth
Crew Quarters B
Himalaya System
August 31, 2549





After Edmond's little forced nap, he retired to his bunk, shedding his armor, and plopping down onto the hard steel frame. After the return of the QUASAR teams, Lt. Edmond would be assigned to Fireteam Rector. Edmond was happy, he was ready to get off this boat, get out there and take it to the Covenant. Holo training sessions can only do so much for Edmond, he would need to get his hands on real elites, Unggoy, those brute fuckers.

The alarms blared loudly, flashing it's signature red lights across the Quarters, shaking Edmond's nerves and forcing him to jump up, scanning the area.

"What the hell's goin' on?" He yelled out to anybody near by, but no-one else was present in the B Crew Quarters. Suddenly, Edmond heard a scream from the F Section of bunks around the corner. Instinctively, Edmond rushed over, his armor still off, wearing nothing but his thin combat jumpsuit he always wears under his armor. He turned to see one of the crew members being lifted into the air, an energy sword through his abdomen, the sounds of the man's guttural chokes and gasps rattled Edmond to his core.

"Son of a bitch!" He said, running at the elite while it was busy skewering the man. Edmond slammed his shoulder into the Sangheili's lower abdomen, forcing him to stumble backwards and drop the energy sword, the crewman still attached to it. With all of his leg strength, he forced the Elite against a bunk's steel frame. He realized too late that the Sangheili was physically stronger than him as the Elite grabbed him by his shoulders and threw the ODST aside, rolling as he came to a stop. Edmond rose back up, ready for another charge, hoping this one would send him to the ground so he could take the sword. The Elite raised his leg and thrusted it forward, connecting with his chest and violently throwing him against the wall, knocking Edmond's air from his chest. As Edmond struggled to breath, the elite kicked the man in his side, throwing him against a bunk. The split-jaw began yelling at him in Sangheili, cursing him for attempting such a weak attack.

Slowly, Edmond tried crawling for his energy sword, which had now deactivated, with all his might he crawled, his breathing becoming wheezy and slow. The Elite cursed at him once more before picking him up by the back of his neck and throwing him towards his bunk, sliding and knocking him right into his armor. Lt. Wallace remembered the combat knife still sheathed on the chestplate. It wasn't going to be as flashy as death by an energy sword, but at this point, Edmond knew if he didn't take care of his split-jaw soon, he would face the same fate as that crewman. Edmond raised himself up enough to plop down on top of the chestplate, hiding his right hand as it pulled out the knife.

"Fuck you, split-lip.." He whispered with a smile on his face right before the Sangheili grasped him by his neck, looking for more abuse to inflict upon the human. Edmond broke free from the grip and sent the knife deep into the elite's unarmored portion of his leg, sending the elite yelping in pain and falling to his knee. Edmond pried the knife out and stabbed it into it's shoulder, forcing himself on top of the elite. Edmond twisted the blade several times before pulling it out and sending it upwards under the Sangheili's jaw, the tip of it coming out through it's helmet armor, the alien's body going limp. Completely exhausted and several parts of his body flairing in pain and soreness, Edmond fell off of the Elite's body, breathing heavily on the ground as he rested.

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Fri Oct 06, 2017 9:35 pm

    QUASAR
    UNSC Salt the Earth, Himalaya system / August 31, 2549

"Well... that was surprising," Dawkins said, sounding more bemused than concerned.

Lieutenant Akiyama looked down to the slain Elite, stoic as per usual, but with something indescribable underneath her transfixed gaze, a disquieting mix of unease and apprehension. The ship had been compromised. "Raise the alarm," she said after a long moment, stepping pass the corpse and making her way towards the exit alongside Gunnery Sergeant Greene. The doors slid shut behind them and locked with an audible click just as the frigate was brought to combat alert.

"How we know another split-jaw ain't in here?" Ensign Flanagen asked, glancing nervously about the dimly lit and cluttered room like a mouse scurrying underneath the predatory leer of a cat, pausing only to watch as the bodies were moved by security.

"I am detecting several unusual heat signatures scattered throughout the ship, but none here, well, none living, so I am fairly certain that we are quite safe for the moment, Mr. Flanagen," Dawkins answered, his ghost-like image readjusting his glasses, looking more-and-more like a professor exhausted by his troublesome students.

"Yeah, well, give us a warning next time," LTJG Friesland accused.

"I wasn't aware that we had uninvited guests joining us."

"Enough banter. I wanted to be gone yesterday, so double-time," ordered Lieutenant Commander Mcrae, falling back into the captain's seat with the lines of his face deepening with the undue stress — the crew assembled by ONI was good, better than good, but were unconventional, turbulent without a guiding hand to keep them focused, and likely would be the death of him; that being said, Mcrae trusted these men and women with his life. "Flanagen, alert Green Team to our situation. Assume the Prowler has been compromised. Luttrell, keep us in the dark."

Lieutenant Luttrell nodded from the helm. "Steady as she goes."

"You may wish to reconsider your pace. The Covenant fleet appears to have finally snapped free of its stupefaction and I count no less than four ships moving to intercept," Dawkins informed. The primary viewscreen changed to show the positions of all nearby ships, and true enough four blips (corvettes) had broken away so as to make a beeline for the UNSC Salt the Earth. A few mutters of disbelief but the A.I. seemed relatively unfazed. "Stealth is no longer a viable option, but running away really fast should do the trick."

Mcrae nodded in agreement. "Engines at full ahead. Send word to Green Team to do the same. Friesland-"

"Weapons are online," the man said.

"All systems are green," added Ensign Navarro from her console.

The Salt the Earth pressed ahead towards the area of space beyond the star's gravitational influence with the Prowler trailing in their wake, two shadows betrayed only by the pinpricks of their engines burning white-hot against the void. Corvettes were fast, but the frigate had a decently sized head-start, and so long as nothing slowed their heading the ship would make the transition into slipspace well before coming into weapons range. Or so was the plan.


Akiyama rushed through the halls of the frigate with a fireteam of BLACK Operatives, Corporal Bates amongst them (Greene had gone to assist elsewhere), armed with only a sidearm and still without a helmet. Engagements had been reported throughout the ship, and although casualties were expectedly high the borders were being whittled down one-by-one. An Elite had been killed in the Medical Bay, another in Crew Quarters, and yet another had been cut down by security in Engineering (the Elite pursuing Ensign Bradley hadn't gone without a fight). Dawkins was attempting to locate the remaining intruders using heat signatures but the method was not 100% accurate and the ship would need to be manually cleared of hostiles.

Thus far nothing had been encountered.

Akiyama was leading the small unit on the starboard side of the ship heading towards stern, but suddenly brought them to a halt, peering down an adjacent hallway with sidearm at the ready. The others raised their weapons as well. A shimmer and a footstep belonging to something far heavier than the average human, and then came the hum of an Energy Sword activating. The Elite ambushed them, slicing through the arm of an unfortunate sergeant before swinging towards Bates. Akiyama pulled the young man away from a painful death and very nearly caught the tip of the blade herself. The still-invisible Elite was too close to engage effectively with the sidearm, and the others couldn't open fire without risking blue-on-blue, so Akiyama improvised, launching a shoulder into the alien's midsection with all her weight (something the Elite had not expected given its warble of surprise) and stumbling the both of them through an open doorway. The Elite de-cloaked just as Akiyama hit the control panel to close the door.

Corporal Bates pounded a fist on the door on the other side, shouting for her to open up, but Akiyama did not, remaining impassive as the Elite stood to its full height with sword held at the ready across its body. The Elite spoke in its alien language, likely calling Akiyama a fool (or some derivative thereof) given the condescending tone.

Its tone changed when Akiyama opened the airlock.

Two large doors slid apart behind the Elite, breaking the seal and venting atmosphere into the vacuum of space. Akiyama braced herself, using a handhold and the magnets in her boots to remain firmly planted, but the Elite was dragged backwards as it scrambled to find something, anything, to hold on to at the cost of losing its sword. A railing prevented the Elite from being sucked out into space.

Akiyama was unsure if the Elite's helmet was rated for vacuum, in which case she, being helmetless, was at a severe disadvantage, so she took initiative, expelling all the oxygen from her lungs before disengaging the magnets in her boots and pushing herself towards the Elite like a living missile. Her kick was on-target and the surprised alien was dislodged into the open maw of the airlock. Akiyama, too, would have followed after but caught herself at the last moment on the doorframe, partway out the ship with the icy chill of the void nipping at her exposed flesh. Without atmosphere remaining to vent it was easy enough to pull herself back inside, and the moment she did the door closed with oxygen returning a moment after.

The woman lay there for a long moment, breathing deeply and refilling her lungs as Dawkins spoke through the intercom. "That was quite possibly the most foolish thing I have witnessed in a very, very long time. But it was entertaining, so good job nonetheless."

Akiyama didn't bother to respond.


    Lieutentn Aiko Akiyama
    UNSC Salt the Earth, Interstellar Space / September 1, 2549

The UNSC Salt the Earth had successfully transitioned into slipspace, and following several random jumps had managed to avoid any Covenant pursuers that may have attempted to follow (Green Team had gone their separate way on the second jump). The ship had been cleared of hostiles and, currently, was drifting in interstellar space until every nook-and-cranny had been gone over with a fine-toothed comb lest they accidentally bring a tracking device back to Reach. Additionally, this gave the crew the time needed to mourn the lost of their comrades, and although Akiyama hadn't seen the point Mcrae had had a ceremony to pay final respects.

The bodies of the dead would be stored in cyro until their return to Reach.

Mcrae had long since returned to the bridge, but Akiyama remained in the Commons where the informal ceremony had taken place, standing alone in one corner and watching things unfold, very much an outsider still to the close-knit group of soldiers and crewmen.

The mission to Skopje was still planned, but for now they could rest.

User avatar
Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5765
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Turmenista » Tue Oct 10, 2017 12:40 pm

    Ensign Thomas Bradley
    UNSC Salt the Earth, Interstellar Space / 2549
    __________________________________



For all intensive purposes, Thomas sucked at talking to women.

Agent Kilroy was the only exception. She was that pleasant-looking, overly-sarcastic, yet still shady-as-hell ONI agent who had done the honors of compiling his report for QUASAR. Generally speaking, she was surprisingly very approachable during his initial interview with her. It wasn't that he liked her or anything (that was reserved for someone else) - besides, Kilroy quite obviously wore a ring and Bradley obviously wasn't in the mood for dating any shady ONI women. But it was more so because she was very friendly during her interview, a stark contrast to the interrogation-type "questioning sessions" he'd done before in training. Unfortunately, most people weren't Agent Kilroys; she was a one of a kind person. She definitely wasn't his mother, or a Lieutenant Aiko Akiyama, both of whom he rarely talked to nowadays or interacted with in general. Neither were also not very approachable, with one simply ignoring him most of the time and the other looking like he could break his windpipe in seven different ways. It was quite obvious to differentiate which one was which.

The Nurse currently treating him in the Medical Bay also was no exception.

She had insisted that he come see her after his close encounter with the Elite in Engineering. It was a close shave, too. One swing away and he would've been missing a head by now, were it not for his lack of shields and collective fire which downed the beast in the dark room. Dawkins wasn't too happy that Bradley had temporarily cut power in the area as a hiding mechanism, but nonetheless Lieutenant Commander Mcrae was glad that their Combat Technician was still alive and well. The Nurse? Not so much. After stripping off his BDU and laying his helmet to his side, Bradley was subject to a number of probes and prods from Stethoscopes, as well as flashlights frantically shone in his eyes and blood tests. He just sat on the medical bed, Recon helmet to his side, as he ran his thumb across the Number 7 tattoo on his forearm. The nurse suddenly began to move once more, much to the Ensign's dismay as he sat, an obviously annoyed look on his face as she did her work.

"Sir," she began, "As much as you don't want to do this, I'm going to have to take all the precautionary steps to ensure you didn't contract any cancer or other disease when you were in contact with the Elite."

The Ensign scoffed, his scrunched up face briefly disappearing. "Cancer is a 22nd century disease. I am pretty sure the Elites don't have STDs, and I didn't touch his goop either."

She looked at him, causing the annoyed look on his face to come back. "What, do I have to pull my pants down, look the other way, and cough?"

"Sir. You were exposed to deadly amounts of radiation when you fired that Plasma Pistol."

"Didn't feel deadly."

She paused, briefly, before grabbing her equipment, standing up, and preparing to leave. "I see no complications so far. Just know who to come to when they do arise."

He left the room in an uneventful, quiet manner, before adding under his breath, "If they arise."


Note to self: Get better at talking to women.


__________________________________


Unsurprisingly, Ensign Bradley never got to keep his new alien souvenir, lest he unintentionally bring a bugged device back to Reach or be prodded even more by Nurse May. Much to his relief, his now deceased split-jawed friend, whom he later dubbed "Ossoona" after he'd coincidentally attacked when he said the word out aloud, was jettisoned out into the darkness of space along with anything the Covenant could use to track them, be it armor, weapons, or otherwise bodies. Unfortunately, this also meant that the bodies of the dead also had to be dealt with too - the Elites had brought out a huge kill count with them, culling crew, security, and several BLACK Operatives alike in their rampage throughout the Salt the Earth.

While their bodies were stored in cryo as they returned to Reach, the crew had gathered in the Salt's Commons, where they held an informal ceremony to mourn the loss of their friends, colleagues, and loved ones. Lieutenant Commander Mcrae was nowhere to be seen, likely returning to the bride while Dawkins was likely in the process of formulating a rant to deal with the Ensign that had temporarily cut power to Engineering. Aside from Wilson, who was obviously not in the mood to be talking right now, this left the only other person he knew in the Commons to be Lieutenant Akiyama, silently standing in the corner as a very out-of-place addition to the group of marines and crew gathered together. Begrudgingly, Ensign Bradley stepped over to the woman, his head kept low and his Recon helmet to his side as if he were inspecting the floor, rather than the front plate of his BDU. Of course, this was all to keep himself from making eye contact with her as he silently assumed a position beside her. He didn't want to do this, but he had to.

Time to apologize.

"I ran all of the other possible outcomes in my head, Lieutenant," he insisted, not even bothering to look at his commander. "I could've had that door open well before we lost all those people in the hallway, and I should've had it open. But that code changed too damn fast. Even then, there wasn't a way for me to save Toran. Or McLean. Or Anderson." He sighed, yelling 'fuck' loudly in his head as he put his head back to the wall. "I feel as if their deaths are on my hands. I'm sorry."

Note to self: Get better at talking to women.
Last edited by Turmenista on Thu Oct 12, 2017 6:07 pm, edited 3 times in total.

User avatar
Tayner
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7913
Founded: Oct 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Tayner » Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:22 pm

Lance Corporal Marc Wilson
UNSC Salt the Earth, Interstellar Space
September 1, 2549


Dozens of pictures were pinned on a bulletin board in the common area, pictures of the lost, the mortally wounded, those who had been sent to the afterlife. Marc stood in his service uniform, a tan shirt and blue pants, along with his garrison cap secured under his belt. Probably over dressed for the situation, the few medals and ribbons he had been awarded weighing on his chest heavier than usual. He sat at a table with Matti wearing the same uniform, with many of the same decorations. The two Marines sitting in silence as they drank themselves away.

But it was too early in the day for them to get wasted, and after the first few shots they called it quits for now. The two shared a few words before splitting to reconvene at a later hour, one preferably after noon. Marc had been hit hard, the loss of the three men weighing on him despite the fact that there was nothing that could have changed the outcome. It didn't matter, three brothers in arms were killed beside him, and he blamed himself for it, like he blamed himself whenever a squaddie died in Force Recon, or when Kotze died. There was nothing he could do, but he couldn't truly convince himself of that, not now at least.

Marc found himself in earshot of Bradley's apology for the deaths of the team. He interjected before Lieutenant Akiyama could respond.

"I'd like to tell you that there was nothing you could've done to change what happened, but I know you won't believe it. We shouldn't be the ones who are sorry, the covenant should be, sir. Just don't beat yourself up too hard, save your strength for the enemy." Marc said, giving his two cents. "I apologize if I've interrupted, ma'am." He said, finishing what he had to say. Marc wasn't sure if he believed in his own words, but he spoke them, and the feeling inside of him had to have come from somewhere.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

User avatar
Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10769
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Sat Oct 14, 2017 5:17 pm

    Lieutenant Aiko Akiyama
    UNSC Salt the Earth, Interstellar Space / September 1, 2549

The informal ceremony had ended and the gathered crew dispersed soon thereafter, leaving to attend to their duties or to distract themselves elsewhere, but some lingered, choosing to remain in the Commons for a little while longer as remembrance withered into dour stillness. Lieutenant Akiyama was about to leave when Ensign Bradley approached her. The man's head was low, like a child about to be scolded, and then he apologized for not having had the door open sooner and, frankly, blamed himself for the deaths of Toran, McLean, and Anderson.

Akiyama looked to Bradley in her usual pensiveness, arms folded across her thin chest, and was about to give answer when Lance Corporal Wilson interrupted with his own personal thoughts on the subject. The Lieutenant agreed to an extent. "This is war. People die, and nothing will change that. The dead have done their part, and we live to do ours, and that's all that matters." Her voice was low but calm, and inexpressive. Flat. Detached. Akiyama was pragmatic to a fault and would not mourn the dead, that much was clear, and although seemingly coldhearted or uncaring or insensitive or however many ways one wished to describe it, the truth of the matter was much deeper than could be seen, and that her emotional state (or lack thereof) was blunted by considerable circumstance, and not even the death of a close friend was enough to sway her to lamentation. In the moment that followed Akiyama must have understood the distance between herself and the others for she added, "Sometimes you lose no matter how good you are."

The ship would be leaving for Skopje soon. Nineteen days out. Three weeks to come to terms with the echoes of the dead.

User avatar
Ubaria
Minister
 
Posts: 2811
Founded: Sep 14, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Ubaria » Sun Oct 15, 2017 7:50 pm

Sergeant Chae-Won Shin
Recreation Room / UNSC Salt the Earth - Slipspace
August 31st - 2549


Shin stood stock still throughout the proceedings, head tilted forward with both hands firmly clasped around his back, his drawn and apathetic expression betrayed the whirlpool of thoughts and stressful notions going on inside his head. No sooner than he had come to terms with the multiple deaths of the soldiers placed under his direction - Cazenave and Anderson - the seemingly safe haven of the Salt the Earth had been breached by an Elite boarding party, causing yet more wanton destruction and leaving a trail of dismembered corpses in their wake which had soured the mood even more so than before. Needless to say, morale had hit rock bottom.

As the ad-hoc funeral drew to a close, Shin took a moment to pull the bloodied paper parcel that Cazenave had so urgently placed in his hands during his final moments in that godforsaken ice glazed cave; the folded paper remained so, unread and now blotted a dull brown from the dried bloody fingerprints imparted. Shin hadn't given a thought to reading it up until now, his mind had been hazed with a thousand different outcomes of transpired events, what he could have done and what he could not, yet only now could Shin bring himself around to read what was inside. It baffled him why Cazenave would write such an important message on such an archaic medium, a Waypoint transmission or Com-Link home could have sufficed; obviously this was something sentimental and personal which caused Shin to hesitate as he pulled open the sheet. In a stark black ink, between the smattering of blood, scrawled was this message -

Dear Mother
If there is another existence after this, i would deliver this message myself, yet i cannot rely on such undependable phenomenon so this may have to do.

I'm sorry i couldn't make it back, i can only pray i fell in battle beside brothers in arms. It's worse than we thought out here, worlds burnt to ashen mud and glass and those brave men and women die by the thousands to try and stop it, including me. Like you used to say to me though, find hope where there is none and you can always find a way, no matter how dark the passage. It pains me to leave you alone now that father has gone, equally i regret that i will not see Mattias grow up, tell Sylvia to keep careful watch until his mother returns.

My belongings at the house you can keep or give away, i have little need for them now. My remains do what you wish, burn them and scatter them to the wind if you must.

I have little time, i wish i could tell you this face to face but i lack the willpower right now, facing the prospect of my own death is a bitter pill to swallow. I'll see you when i see you.

Gabriel


Folding the blood soaked paper back up, Shin made a long hushed exhale before returning the paper to his pocket. Meridian was far, far away right now so the note would be impossible to deliver in person; contacting his family would be even more of a pain due to the information quarantine they were currently under due to strict protocol. Gabriel's mother would receive message of her son's death far before this message anyhow, there was little Shin could do in his position currently, he needed to take his mind off things but with the prospect of another Elite skulking around in the shadows, nerves were hard to quell, not even their home was safe.
Yo, that's mad.

PreviousNext

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to Portal to the Multiverse

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users

Advertisement

Remove ads