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 Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2009 11:12 pm
<\\>UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE
<\\>PERSONNEL DATABASE [ONI.SEC.PRTCL-2C]
<\ PRIVATE LOG ACCESS REQUEST
>>SENT: [MAZE.I.400361(S1)]
>>RECEIVED: [A.I.NOVA.1_SUPER]
[A.I.NOVA.1_SUPER] >> OPEN PRIVATE FILE_Log1jacob.O.C./01/02/2561
Personal Log: Jacobs, Omar C.
Commanding Officer UNSC Armored Prayer [AP.ACTUAL]
The "retreat" from New Harmony went about as well as expected. The insurrectionist movement has been contained and the reinforcements from Earth are patrolling space. The UNSC has actively stepped up its defenses and ONI is keeping an eye out for illegal weapons shipments and increased pirate activity. Admiral Hoffman personally led the cavalry to our little corner of the galaxy, although I wish he'd come sooner. Too many people died in Illisium. Frankly I'm surprised that I haven't been court-marshaled as a scape-goat yet, although not enough time has passed to be certain. It's been a few months since the siege and the UNSC is in control of the planet again. I'm just glad this didn't turn into another Far Isle. [REF_10.3.2492_BANDERSNATCH.1]
Good news from home for a change. Catherine is out of the hospital and her broken leg is healing properly. Lynn wants me to request leave to be with the family. Franklin brought his grades up in math and science, although he's still doing poorly in English. Maybe he'll have a chance of passing the fifth grade now. [CURRENT RESIDENCE: 1204 OASIS AVE. THARSIS, MARS]
Today I received my new orders. They were announced by Admiral Hoffman and confirmed via sealed orders from Lord Hood. Where do I begin?
Harvest...
The last time I was at Harvest [REF.4.2.2531_HARVEST.1], the Covenant owned her. I was a crewman aboard the Sharpshooter. I saw a lot of good people die trying to retake Harvest. It's only a frozen hell-hole now. The effects of the Covenant's plasma bombardment are still all-too present. Harvest was the first colony that humanity lost. News of an alien attack broke and unified some. I was one of the many kids who enlisted, itching for a chance to fight back at whatever had destroyed an entire colony. Little did we know that they would claim every colony world, kill most of our kind, and fight us almost to extinction. 200,000 humans. That's all that was left after the Covenant were done with Earth. Our colonies have swelled due to recent population growth and reconciliation with older insurgent factions, but still... It's like we're an endangered species now. Earth feels... empty. Mars is, well, Mars is home. But that doesn't stop it from feeling lifeless too. Mankind will recover. We always have, but the Covenant were too strong. Too willing to completely and utterly destroy us. The war is over. Why would anyone want to reopen an old wound? I just don't know. I have my orders though, and I intend to follow them.
[END FILE]
[A.I.NOVA.1_SUPER] >> OPEN PRIVATE FILE_Log7hoffman.C.E./01/02/2561
Personal Log: Hoffman, Christopher E.
Commanding Officer UNSC Amnesty of God [AOG.ACTUAL]
This s**t makes me sick. All I've been hearing from below the crew decks is the bitching and moaning of every engineer and off duty Marine about going to Harvest. They keep saying it's a waste of time and that we're not going to find anything, that we're wasting resources trying to recolonize when we should be quelling a rebellion. They, however, don't understand what this mission is all about and frankly, that might be for the better.
Though, I have to admit, I'm not exactly sure what were looking for. All we've got to go on are a few pictures of the damn object and a whole load of s**t from one unlucky Marine's vids. It's definitely nothing human we're looking at, which probably means this s**t's important. I'm talking top priority. I don't know if it's exactly what we need to be doing now, though, but if O.N.I. and Hood need me out here, who am I to refuse? It'll be an honor to go back to where it all began, and where so many men lost their lives. Five years it took to regain Harvest, and the Covenant bastards had already glassed the entire planet. [REF_4.2.2531_HARVEST.1]
That was a long time ago, though, so it's best not to dwell and concentrate at the task at hand. What we've got on those videos seems to be some kind of star map. A full star map. Of the Milky Way. Seems these Forerunner sons of bitches knew exactly what they were doing. So far all I've been told is what I've relayed: We're going to Harvest to recover some Relic, or something. Jacobs didn't seem too... happy about the news, but he's a good man and an even better soldier. I have confidence in him, as I do others. I didn't tell him, though, that a Prowler (the UNSC Shades of Grey) would be tagging along. Once again, it's one of those things that's better left on a need to know basis.
Maybe once we get things all sorted out on this milk-run of an Operation I'll get the chance to see my wife. She wasn't too happy the last time I had to leave Luna, but hell, a soldier must go when he is summoned. [CURRENT RESIDENCE: 3202 MARX BLVD. CRISIUM CITY, LUNA] For some reason I feel as if I might not be coming back after this. ********, I forgot to take my pills. Alright, that's enough for now. I can feel my heart fluctuating... ******** blood pressure.
[END FILE]
[A.I.NOVA.1_SUPER] >> OPEN PRIVATE FILE_Log3roarke.A./01/02/2561
Personal log: Roarke, Aleksandra
Commanding Officer: UNSC Ardent Wind [AW.ACTUAL]
I never would have imagined it would turn out as well as it did. When the UNSC forces withdrew from the system, everything we had hoped to accomplish was done: the insurrectionist movement was in check, and the reinforcements from Earth are patrolling the nearby space. Everyone stepped up their efforts. I was surprised to see Admiral Hoffman finally arrive; I'd thought he'd never make it... Nevertheless, the UNSC is, once again in control of the planet. Mission accomplished.
James was finally able to contact me in months. Bless his heart; he's been so patient with me. I miss him so much... The days where I can tell him everyday I love him are long gone. The days where communication is guaranteed are long gone. Yet, he continues to bear with it, with the military that has set us so far apart, with war that keeps us ever separated. I suppose that's what you'd call love. "You give those alien bastards hell for me." he said in the last transmission... He would never know how much that meant to me.
Soon after, I received my orders, and by my own shock, they were confirmed by the illustrious Lord Hood. A kind man, Lord Hood was always willing to share stories of his Naval legacy. He was quite a character; I don't know why others thought of him as intimidating...
Seems I'm getting a little off-topic.
These orders would bring us to Harvest, in the Epsilon Indi system. This planet... It was heart-wrenching to watch as the Covenant destroyed the world. The sight of the planet after those bastards glassed the planet... It will stay with me forever. So many people had died to save the planet, and with Harvest nearly inhabitable, other colonies' populations have swelled. Even so, it feels like the human species is dwindling, soon to be lost in the vacuum of space.
The thought of our annihilation frightens me... more than I ever thought it would.
To think of what could be lost... I never fathomed that one simple thought would bring me to tears. I cannot let such thoughts stop me. I know, deep within my being, that it will all come to an end. The human race will recover and strengthen back to its former glory, and we will see to it that we will remain the dominating force in this universe.
But the war is over. Why do I feel that it has only just begun?
[END FILE]
[A.I.NOVA.1_SUPER] >> OPEN PRIVATE FILE_Log9jamison.H./01/02/2561
Personal Log: Holly, Jamison
Commanding Officer: UNSC Shades of Grey [SOG.ACTUAL]
Certainly, the brief insurrection was quelled swiftly, though I expected as much. After fighting the Covenant for decades, poorly-armed teams of Insurrectionists seem like a gnat compared to the UNSC. The real challenge will be retraining a generation bred on war - in some cases, literally - to function in a time of peace. This may be more difficult than the brass at ONI realizes. Mere propaganda is not going to erase years upon years of conditioning, and it may in fact be two or three additional generations before society has returned to a relatively peaceful state. No doubt the mark the Covenant has left on humanity will never be erased, though.
And yet, I find myself caring less and less about the Covenant as the days drag by. Although they were my main focus of interest as a child - perhaps due to the conditioning of propaganda, perhaps because of some survival reflex that dictated a desire to understand the enemy to defeat them, or perhaps because the Covenant was simply an enigma at the time - I find that they hold less of an appeal for me than before. I speak Sangheili [COVENANT INFANTRY: ELITE] and Unggoy [COVENANT INFANTRY: GRUNT] fluently enough, I understand what their culture once was, and I no longer feel any desire to study them. Perhaps as a historian, once a book reaches the point where it's being written, it loses appeal.
More and more, I find myself hoping for a different mystery, one located in the ancient past, the truly ancient past. Perhaps in the great unknown, in the crumbling pages of ancient history, I may be able to find the answers to other mysteries, to better understand why the Covenant ended up attacking us, and why the Flood [REF.INFIRI_REDIVIVUS] were so persistent when they were encountered by the Master Chief [SIERRA 117] on Halo [REF.19.9.2552-21.9.2552]. Of course, whatever I find is likely to be incomplete, but that's part of the fun of history: speculation.
It seems as though my curiosity will have to hold off for the moment, however. Orders from Lord Hood required the battle group to depart for Harvest. A surprising move, especially considering that he asked this of a battle-weary group that recently fought hard for their lives during the recent Insurrectionist Crisis. However, the selection of the group puzzles me less than the actual location that Lord Hood wants us deployed to.
The Battle of Harvest occurred before I was even born, and the planet was supposedly considered a desolate wasteland, a mockery of its former splendor. However, I have read the reports on the Battle of Harvest; I know what lies beneath the snow and ice of the planet.
And I am curious.
However, I can't help but feel a sense of foreboding on this mission. I have a sinking feeling, as though something is likely to go horribly wrong; as though this mission is going to cost us more lives than the Insurrectionist Crisis did. Lord Hood wants us to discover something, and yet we don't know what it is. Perhaps we'll be able to discover the answers to mysteries that have been lingering since the beginning of the Covenant War. Perhaps we may even discover the salvation of the human race, something that will prevent us from annihilating each other. Or perhaps we might discover something dangerous, something never meant for any species to discover, and it may well tear us apart. Or, even, we might discover nothing, and we will be left disappointed, but in no less danger than when we first began this mission.
As a scholar, I know this well: Only time will tell.
[END FILE]
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 11:58 pm
Commander Jamison Holly
UNSC Shades of Grey
Feb. 4, 2561
The UNSC Prowler-class stealth corvette Shades of Grey slid through Slipspace like an ebony knife. For the last few months they had traveled towards a world which had been quarantined from the rest of the human race.
Harvest.
It was one of the first worlds devastated by a decades-long war with an alien theocracy known as the Covenant. Once a lush and prosperous world, it had been glassed by the Covenant in one of the first major battles of the war between the humans and the alien conglomerate that composed the Covenant. The world had eventually recovered enough to freeze into an uninhabitable ball of ice and snow, incapable of sustaining life for any length of time. It was a dead planet.
And yet, it was the destination of the Shades of Grey, along with four other ships in the United Nations Space Command. However, she was flying without a pilot, by the standards of an early twenty-first century vessel. However, such vessels did not have the luxuries of a shipboard Artificial Intelligence, which controlled the motions of the ship far more effectively than any human being could. This shipboard AI was known as Chiron, a so-called "smart" AI which had been created by the Office of Naval Intelligence of the UNSC. It was also this AI who was, at the time, devoting less than a fraction of one percent of its computing power towards playing chess with a young commander who was poring over his next move on a holographic board.
Commander Jamison Holly smiled to himself as he gazed up at his AI. Chiron was an unusual AI in terms of appearance. While most AIs took on a human form, Chiron elected to follow his namesake and take the form of a centaur. Every area of hair - including the trimmed beard on his face and all of the hair on his equine body - was raven black, whereas the skin of his bare torso and face was stark white. It was an interesting combination that Holly had come to appreciate, just as he had come to accept that he would never beat the AI in chess, though it was still an amusing past time, much like screaming into a pillow was useless in practice, but helped to relieve stress, which Holly certainly feeling.
Pausing for a moment to allow Chiron his move, Holly again reviewed the top-secret orders he had been given by ONI. Every time he looked at them, he couldn't help but feel... slighted, almost as though ONI was acting condescending towards him. Of course, it was ONI's standard attitude, but Holly still felt as though the orders were mocking in a way However, he would - as always - perform his duties to the best of his abilities, without complaint. Besides, he was one of the youngest commanders in the fleet, and fairly well-decorated; he certainly hadn't been slighted for his skills.
"Check," Chiron said suddenly in a smug voice, causing Holly's attention to shift back to the game. Looking down, he groaned. For the third time in a row, Chiron had given Holly a choice that felt even more condescending than his orders - he had forced Holly to choose between checkmate and stalemate. And yet, Holly decided to do something that would surprise his AI. Smirking, he moved his queen over three spaces and took out a rook that was shadowing his king, causing Chiron to stare in surprise. Looking up, he asked, "You're forfeiting?"
Holly shrugged slightly. "I'd rather take out that rook and lose in checkmate than take a pity stalemate. Sometimes, it's better to go down fighting than compromise on losing terms. It's a sentiment that a Sangheili would appreciate, anyways."
"I'll never understand humans," Chiron said in an exasperated voice, moving his queen forwards. "Checkmate." The centaur then looked up and seemed to paw the ground with one of his hooves, a sign that Holly had come to understand as calculating. "We're exiting Slipspace in thirty seconds, Commander," he added, turning serious again.
Holly nodded, straightening up in his chair. His bridge crew immediately stopped watching the game and set back to work, as Holly began giving orders. "When we exit Slipspace, I want sensors already sweeping the area for hostile threats, including asteroids, scattered hulls, and anything that might so much as scratch the battlegroup. Also, I want a map of Harvest within ten minutes of exiting Slipspace, including a seven-day weather forecast, current topography, and the most habitable areas where the team can establish a base camp. I want the pulse lasers warm but not hot in case we come out too close to anything and we have to blast it away, but since the area has been quarantined for decades, there is very little chance that we'll have to worry about defensive countermeasures against opposing craft. Helmsman, ahead slow to point oh-four-three once we exit and keep us in orbit until we get further orders from Admiral Hoffman." Turning, he gazed out the viewport again as Harvest came into view as they exited Slipspace, and in a softer voice, he whispered, "And you are going to give me some answers before we're finished here."
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 12:41 pm
First Lieutenant Kalitra Jamison
UNSC Armored Prayer
February 4, 2561
Status: Filing reports
The American Indian woman leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes as what felt like a 50 megaton headache started to set in. After emerging from cryo-sleep, Kalitra had begun to review every file she had access to on Harvest. She had been to young to remember much of the disastrous first contact, or rather, what little of it was on the UEG news. None of her assignments ever took her near the place before now, and she wanted to take in some background before they landed on this ice-ball. Apparently it had been a prominent agricultural colony prior to it's glassing.
That, however, is about as far as she got before she started getting equipment and status reports from the Marines under her command. And it was her job to read and file them. Oh, but that wasn't the reason for the headache. No, that would her to easy. Indeed, the case was a long stretching philosophical question she had encountered while off-duty a while back. It had to do with the current human-sangheili relations, and she had forgotten where she had heard it by now. But it reared it's head at the most inopportune moments. Like now.
Note to self: Kill whoever asked me this stupid question. the Lieutenant thought wryly, rubbing her temples a moment longer before getting back to work. Somehow, thankfully, it soothed the pain a bit. Besides, she had enough to worry about. Things back on Ursae Majoris I were tight for her family, as usual. Part of the reason she never complained about the pay-grade raise. Because, you know, she never got to blow stuff up anymore. Anyway, just when the filing was starting to get interesting, the reports stopped coming in and the announcement that they'd be dropping out of slipspace soon was broadcast.
"Maybe now I can learn more about Harvest before anything else happens." With that, she opened the file on Harvest again. It was the site of the fateful first contact with the Covenant, with a majority of it's population evacuated at the time of the attack. Eventually the UNSC took back the remains of the planet, though for what real reason, Jamison wasn't sure. The UNSC Spirit of Fire, a refitted colony ship, was one of the ships present at the Second Battle of Harvest, and seemed to be fairly important in the battle.
There wasn't much to it after that. Where there was once fertile farm land there was now glass and ice. It seems the Covenant hadn't completely glassed the place, so there was atmosphere and such, but the planet was in an indefinite nuclear winter because of it. "Oh, so we're going to be wandering around in the snow and ice? Well, that's nice to know." the First Lieutenant said, her German-like accent not hiding the sigh in her voice. Ursae Majoris I was fairly far from it's star, so the cold wouldn't bother her much. Her men on the other hand, that was a different story.
Well, now there was left to do was let her headache subside and wait for orders.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:20 pm
Corporal; Carlson, Alexander.
UNSC Armored Prayer. Armory.
Shotgun here, a SMG there. The armory was full of all the weapons the UNSC could offer. For a few hours now, Alexander was second in command of the maintenance check of all weaponry. He made sure everything was checked by three different people, from the triggers to the rounds of bullets. Nothing was left unchecked.
The Staff Sergeant mainly just sat back and made sure everyone was doing their job. She did the casual walk about every now and then to make sure everything was in order. She may of been lazy, but the love for perfection got the best of her.
Alex got pat on the back here and there. He loved being somewhat in charge of anything. Time flew by and the job got done in about five hours. The Sergeant dismissed the three privates, and with Alex at the desk of the armory, went through the paper work that needed signing and stamping. They got talking as they worked, because they were good friends.
Once the paper work was done, Alexander took them to Captain Omar Jacobs. He walked the corridors and went up a lift. He finally came to the Captain's cabin and knocked on his door. "Captain Omar Jacobs sir! Corporal Alexander Carlson here with the armory maintenance records sir!" He was standing up straight and as stiff as a tree without wind blowing into it. Waiting for Jacobs to answer the door.
(Hegemon, change it if Jacobs is on deck)
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:34 pm
2nd lieutenant Mika Jokinen
UNSC Armored Prayer
Previously happened...
Jokinen looked at his new quarters, eyes peeling through every little aspect there was to be seen. "This is yours, sir. The previous resident left it a bit... unattended after he left."
Truly, the sergeant underestimated a little. "Sergeant?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Could I use a HE grenade here to clean it up a bit?"
Sergeant's face managed to hold the official look admirably. "No, sir. It would intervene with the walls and neighbours would complain about it."
Mika nodded and lifted a nasty looking shirt off the floor. Both kept the tone strictly official, but under the surface...
Something growled in the drawer. "Even a little one?"
"Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, this is your new CO lieutenant Jokinen", an navy officer said and guided the newcomer in front of ferocious looking elite marines. "I am certain I will have no troubles coming up, yes?" he asked clearly stressing the two words. Jokinen felt a bit nauseous, knowing what they used to do for introducing new members to the herd.
"I'll leave you to it, lieutenant", the navy officer said and left, leaving Jokinen alone. He was nervous, but he didn't show it outward. "Evening, ladies and gentlemen! As our navyman said here, I am your new CO and I bring my ways with me."
He kept a theatric pause, evaluating the ODSTs he was about to lead. If he showed the slightest of hesitation he would be overrun like an Unggoy bunker with a Scorpion.
"First: I don't know how your previous CO lead you, but I am not him. Get used to it. Second: If I tell you to sit, you sit immediately. If I tell you to stop, you stop without putting your foot down. I don't demand insanities from you, you get enough from being an ODST, but being in my unquestioned control will save lives, both yours and others. Third: Nobody ******** with my ODSTs. If somebody has a problem with you, guide them to me directly. Understood?"
He looked at the 50 men, face glowing of dedication and sense of direction. He wasn't an lieutenant without a reason.
1st lieutenant Mika Jokinen
UNS Armored Prayer
Present
You'd think being in the lead of extremely well tuned combat force was a glamorous thing, but luckily Mika had tasted the job previously. He had expected it and it had hit him hard. Paperwork.
Forms, applications, inquiries and ODST personal mails spiced with announcements and newscast. Of his 24 hour shift Mika had dedicated 9 for paperwork only. He could already sense some muscles loosening up from lack of excercising. His green-striped ODST suit waited to be used in the corner. His turn to be on alert was two hours away, and he had taken the suit out with great pleasure.
"What the horna?", Mika said after reading the new form to be filled. "This can't be for real..."
He tackled the paper fast and efficient, like an ODST should. He would've loved to be on the field rather than behind a desk, but leaving it to others would give a bad image. Eventually he had won over the day's work and knew his men were safe from demons of bureaucracy for the time being.
He had called for his second-in-command, a man who had served in the unit for long enough to be of help, to discuss their future operation. Mika wanted to know his ODSTs, and the best way was to discuss with the sergeant major.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:40 pm
First Class Private: Lance Sikes
UNSC Armored Prayer
Feburary 4, 2561
Status: Preparing Equipment
Lance walked out of his room and into the hallway. While Lance was walking he could marines walking back and forth getting ready. Lance then made a right at the end of the hallway, leading into the armory. Lance was sorta nervous, but excited at the same time. This was his first time on the armored prayer. Everything was so high tech. As Lance approached the armory a marine walked out. He had the standard marine armor and standard weapons.
Lance then walked in and took a look around. A few marines were putting on armor and weapons. Lance never wore this kind of armor. It was different from the training armor. Lance then started to put it on. After being fully suited, Lance walked over to a pile of weapons that were perfectly ordered. Lance then grabbed a MA5C and some ammunition for it and then attached it to his back, where the weapon magnet was. Lance then grabbed his M6C and the ammunition for it, and set it at his side. Lance then grabbed two grenades and set it next to his M6C.
Lance then cracked his neck and stretched, to get used to the armor. After stretching Lance walked out of the armory and then made a left. It lead into the ship deck. As Lance walked down the stairs he could see several vehicles. Each set in order from each side. Lance walked over to the pelican that he was gonna be on. Lance walking into the pelican saw two marine inside the ship. One was filling the ammo for the chain gun. The other was setting up the first aid packs to each side of the pelican. Lance then walked into the pilot room. Lance then started to set up the radio signal. After it was functioning, Lance then worked on the harvest map. The map was 75% uploaded. So Lance decided to take a seat and wait.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 2:08 pm
Private First Class Jackson King
UNSC Armored Prayer. Clinic"Morphine....morphine...gauze....morphine..." Jackson sighed as he did his tedious job of invintoring the medical supplies. The medical staff and combat medics of the UNSC Armored Prayer, the heart of the Marines.
"I better get a promotion out of this." Another Private commented. All of the men and women inside the room chuckled a bit. "Ah get over it Johnson, you'll be a PFC for life." Said a young Sergeant. Everyone laughed once more and got back to their duty.
"Needle...gauze...ow s**t!" Jackson shouted. He waved his right hand and than held it under his left armpit. "******** needles..." He muttered to himself. The Sergeant looked at him and simply laughed. "Ah yeah yeah..." Jackson opened up a small packet that was next to him and pulled out a bandage. "It's going to be a looong day... He thought to himself as he applied the bandage.
After a few more hours of work, every piece of medical equipment had been stocked and put into the mainframe. After the Sergeant dimissed everyone, Jackson took the paperwork the Sergeant was filling out to Captain Omar Jacbos. As he neared the Cabin he noticed Corporal Alexander. "Corporal." Jackson said before snapping to attention infront of the door.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 6:26 pm
Gunnery Sergeant Meika Faust
UNSC Armored Prayer
Location: Mess Hall
This had always been her favorite place in any ship she'd been aboard. The mess hall was always full of life. People arguing, complaining, or talking about strange subjects that she greatly enjoyed overhearing. Sure, she would've loved to join into the conversations, but at the moment, she was a little busy. The "Gunny" sat backwards at one of the tables, feet up on the bench across from her and her back up against the table directly behind her. Quietly tinkering with a gray box that sat on her lap, a rather large assortment of tools were laid out at both her sides. Meika moved fluidly from tool to tool, her fingers almost effortlessly working to make the little box on her lap just the way she wanted.
Meika had just woken from cryo a few hours ago. Her short red hair was sticking up in various directions, a result of a habit she had always had of messing with her hair moments after she woke. Dressed in the same olive drab uniform she had before getting put into cryo, the wear and tear suggested she'd need a new one rather soon. But for all she cared, that wasn't at all necessary. Long as it kept the bullets away, it was perfectly fine.
"What you got there, girlie?" Someone asked and startled her enough to make her jump just slightly. Slowly, she turned to face whoever addressed her. "You don't need to know tha--" It took a second for her memory to register who it was.
"Kater!" She exclaimed with a big, goofy grin.
"The one and only."
"How're you feeling?"
"Good, good. Gonna take some time to get used to the new scar in my stomach, though."
"Hey, it's a battle trophy. Be proud of it."
His mood shifted from playful, to serious in a millisecond.
"I owe you my life, Faust. If there's anything you ever need, just tell me."
She frowned, slightly confused by how he'd gotten serious so quickly.
"Kater, it's no big deal. I'm sure you would've done the same."
He shrugged, "No, actually I probably wouldn't have."
"Well, I guess a change for the better."
"I suppose you're right. Now then," Kater put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I should get going. Sarge probably needs me."
Meika stopped messing with the box and looked up at him again. "You weren't told?"
"Told what?" He asked.
"McCullen was killed."
His eyebrows pressed together a bit, but other than that he showed no signs of surprise. "Who's our new CO then?"
She grinned wide, but said nothing. Kater noticed this and his eyebrows pressed together further. "You're kidding me."
"I'm surprised you didn't notice earlier."
"You're our CO? How the hell did you outrank me so fast?"
"For saving your a**. That's how."
"Well ain't that sweet. Anyway, if it's alright with you, ma'am, I'm gonna head to the gym."
"Get moving then, on the double."
Once Kater left, she almost immediately began to yell at herself in her own mind. She shouldn't be acting so lighthearted about going on her first mission as her new, higher rank. However, staying tense wouldn't help either. A tense, stressed mind didn't allow for rational decision making. At least that was how it worked for her. A calm and collected mind was ideal. And until they got to Harvest, that's how she wanted it to stay.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 9:28 pm
Lieutenant Commander Keira O. Westenra
UNSC Ardent Wind
Location: Cryo-tube
"Welcome back, madam."
The effects of awakening from cryo-sleep was something Keira was never able to get used to. Her eyes opened slowly as the tube locks released, its door swinging open. She fell to her knees, coughing up the mass amounts of mucus that always accompanied the reawakening. Then came the horrible taste. "Ugh," she muttered in between coughs. Demetrius, the ships' AI, appeared on a small pedestal next to a set of clothes for the Lieutenant Commander. "Status, Demitrius." she sighed, wiping her face of the excess mucus. She stood up, taking a full look at the uniformed AI. "Captain, we are en route to the battle formation. We are coming closer and closer to Harvest as we speak." said the AI, a slight accent tinging his speech. Keira nodded, changing into her uniform. "Also, madam, you received a communique from Mars, from a Mr. James Westenra." She stopped, her heart sinking and mind racing at the thought of what it could contain. Adjusting her suit, she turned to the AI, her eyes wandering:
"James Westenra is my husband."
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 9:34 pm
First Class Private Lance Sikes
UNSC Armored Prayer
Location Mess Hall
Lance waited for about 30 minutes before the map was done loading. That's when Lance groaned and walked out. The two marines were already gone. Probably to the mess hall. Lance silently walked back into the hallway and further down towards the end. Lance then made a right at the end. Lance could hear several marines talking. He could also smell the food. Lance noticed that he didn't even ate breakfast yet. So Lance entered the mess hall and into the kitchen. Lance getting his tray and plate. Lance was waiting in line for awhile before he got his food. Lance then walked over to where two marines were greeting each other. Lance noticed one of them. "Hey I know you! You're corporal Jonathan!" said Lance as he sits down next to the two. "I herd you were injured on your last mission..." said Lance as he sees the cask around Jonathan's arm.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 10:05 pm
Rear-Admiral Christopher E. Hoffman
Aboard the UNSC Amnesty of God
Hoffman was, once again, not very happy. Somehow, someway, he had managed to spill his coffee all over his uniform. While it wasn't exactly regulation to have such delicacies aboard the bridge of a war ship the Rear-Admiral had quite a bit of leeway. He stood before the view of the apocalyptic ice-world that once used to supply the colonies of the UNSC with produce, Harvest. Had it been any other time he would have been slightly saddened by the sight, but like most things the deathly blue chill of the planet never even got a chance to permeate his thickened hide.
"Alia, contact the Armored Prayer, Vagabond, and Ardent Wind, and tell them it's time to go top-side."
"Aye, Captain. Shall we be delivering the package?"
Christopher grunted and seated himself in his throne-like chair, continuing to sip his coffee.
"Yes, drop 'em."
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 12:03 am
Jones, Bradley D.
On board the UNSC Vagabond
RFD Status: Online
Location: Deck 6 / Corridor B / Med Bay
"Hand me that syringe. I need it for the jump down." Jones said while stuffing his medkit full of antibiotics and gause. He figured if he should be prepaired, she should do it within an orderly manner where he has EVERYTHING.
He and 4 other Medics were all scurrying across the medical bay looking for the various objects they needed for their Medkits.
The noise, the calling of names and shouting, the clattering of boots against Titanium-A Plating... it was driving him mad.
So he stopped time.
Everything just went still. Within his mind he has been able to slow things down and make the illusion to himself that time has slowed. When infact its just him imagining things.
Walking over to a container on the countertop of the Med-Bay, he pushed passed his superior Medicinal Officer, Master Gunnery Sergeant Melanie Banis. Banis was about 5'10, with the most gorgeous hair he had ever seen. He had somewhat of a crush on her, as you could say.
He grabbed the Bio-Foam injectors, 5 to be exact, and stuffed them into his kit. Just as he did that, all of the hustle and bustle of the med bay began to move again. he could only imagine the scenerio for a short time, but it gave him peace of mind when he did. Almost in a zen state.
Closing the tool-box looking container and snapping it shut, he began to move his operations down to the departure bay, When suddenly, a womanly voice called to him.
"Jones. Front and center."
He turned on his heal and walked towards the superior, saluting as he usually did. She exused him.
"Jones, you packed and ready to go?" She asked, eyeing him down.
"M'am, yes m'am. Got everything set. Permission to speak freely, Sergeant?"
She nodded. "You know you dont need that formality bullshit with me Brad."
He knew regulation, and he had to state it. Weither she liked it or not. He just had to.
"M'am, are we packing heat, or is this a cold run?"
"Good question."
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