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 Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2009 5:12 am
At 0447 Hours, The Fermion Remote Scanning Outpost detects multiple Covenant slipspace contacts and relays an emergency message to FLEETCOM, located on the surface of Reach. Thirteen minutes later, a force of 314 Covenant vessels emerges from Slipspace on the edge of the Epsilon Eridani system. Admiral Roland Freemont issues a general order to all vessels in the Reach, Jericho, and Tantalus systems to initiate the Cole Protocol and make best possible speed to Rally point Zulu. By 0545 Hours the Covenant fleet has lost one third of their number while the UNSC has lost more than half of their ships. At 0620 Hours the Covenant begin landing massive numbers of ground troops, prompting the UNSC to evacuate as many civilians as possible. The evacuation mission is too little too late. Exactly one hour later, the Covenant soundly defeats the UNSC forces in orbit as well as the UNSC ground forces. All surviving UNSC ships are forced to take on what refugees they can and initiate the Cole Protocol and jump away from the Epsilon Eridani system on a randomized vector.
At 1107 Hours, Rear Admiral William Nogumo sends out a general order for UNSC vessels to regroup in the Tau Ceti system to take on refugees and evacuate wounded personnel. Of the ships that retreated from Reach, three make it to Tau Ceti; the others are tracked down by Covenant battle groups and destroyed. The damaged but operable Iron Sunrise under the command of Commander Andrew Poole is one of the three. The Sunrise, a UNSC Heavy Cruiser, was damaged during the initial fighting and suffered the loss of her Captain, Geoffrey Blake when an errant Plasma Torpedo ate through a section of the vessel’s starboard hull. Commander Poole assumed command during the battle of Reach, and through his leadership ensured the survival of the Carrier as well as the successful escape from the Covenant. The second was the First in Line, a Marathon-class cruiser that limped away from the battle after having exhausted its reserves of ammunition. The other was the Hamilton’s Keep a frigate that had been badly damaged during the fighting. Along with the two military vessels, several hundred small vessels containing both civilian and military personnel made the rendezvous.
Rear Admiral Nogumo, being without sufficient ships to transport the refugees gave the order that all UNSC military vessels in the Tau Ceti system would be required to rotate their personnel rosters to make space available for civilians. The Sunrise, still damaged from the fighting at Reach had lost a large number of Crewmen and most of its Marine contingent, and as such took on personnel from other ships to make room for civilians in more comfortable accommodations. Marines from the First in Line and the Erasmus were transferred to the Iron Sunrise as well as several families who could not be housed elsewhere. A total of 240 Marine Regulars, 14 ODSTs, and 50 Civilians were transferred. Sadly, fate did not have safety in mind for the battered men and women aboard the Iron Sunrise and the Covenant found them, having tracked the First in Line from Reach. Every ship in the gathering area made a blind jump to slipspace as per the Cole Protocol and prayed that the Covenant would not follow.
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Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2009 3:38 pm
>1251 Hours
>>UNSC Iron Sunrise
>>>En route to randomly generated Slipspace vector
Not all of the training in the world could have prepared them for this day. An absolute failure, that's what today was. Reach had fallen, and a gut wrenching number of lives had been lost. And for what? Nothing. Nothing at all. A few, almost insignificant feats were worth noting, but this was a major loss for the UNSC, and would never be forgotten. The bridge of the Iron Sunrise sat in near complete silence. Each individual officer didn't mutter a word and followed orders without a drop of protest. There was no reason to. It was as if the entire ship was still in shock. From the death of their Captain, to the over all loss of Reach. They had been hit hard. And what was worse, was the fact that half of the bridge crew was from Reach. How was this supposed to be dealt with?
Commander Andrew Poole had been pacing around the bridge for what felt like hours now, checking each station as he passed them, and issuing triple and sometimes even quadruple checks on everything in the ship. Damaged areas had been cleared and closed off, wounded taken to medical, dead had their tags gathered, and bodies reluctantly disposed of. Trasferred soldiers were moved into the main sets of barracks, and the civilians moved into their own--somewhat special-- quarters. Higher ranking and more responsible marines were given the duties of helping the civilians through the ship to the mess hall, and other areas that they had access to. Armory was monitored, as were many of the hallways, to prevent those that were brave enough to try and look for weapons from actually obtaining them, and to aid those that became lost. Everything was running smoothly, just how he wanted.
"Commander," A small voice broke the silence of the bridge. "Might I suggest you take a seat? You have done everything you can for the time being." A small splotch of red formed in the corner of the Commander's view, and he turned to face it. An elegant female figure stood upon the holopanel near his chair, wrapped in a roman-esque gown that fell just above her ankles.
"Aquinas, I'm fine--" Poole began.
"You are stressing yourself out more than you should be. Everything is running fine, and it will take some time before we reach our designated exit point. Just please calm yourself down. I have everything organized to how I believe you would want it. Severely wounded will be placed in cryo, and everyone else will be taking shifts. Civilians that wish to do so have also been placed in the schedule, and those that would rather not will be provided with as much hospitality as we can manage."
This caught Andrew by surprise. He hadn't ordered anything regarding cryo. But it was a welcoming feeling that the AI was taking the necessary steps to ensure everything went smoothly. This alone was comfort enough for him, and he placed himself in his seat. A small smile grew on Aquinas's face and she turned to look over the rest of the bridge. They were just as exhausted as the Commander was, but she didn't address them. It was Poole's job to dismiss them when he felt the time was right. She could only provide them with assistance.
He remained at his seat, watching the displays before him with unwavering concentration. If anything at all seemed off, he wanted to know about it. If someone sneezed in the engine room, he wanted to know.
Alright, maybe he wouldn't go that far.
"Commander, I believe we have a problem with the civilians. They don't seem to want to cooperate until they know what is really going on. I guess you can't hide much from people these days." A marine's voice crackled over the speakers of his main display. The man didn't sound at all concerned, but Poole could hear the angered murmurs of the civilians. Checking the name of the marine quickly, Poole leaned forward in his chair and replied.
"Tell them to wait just a bit longer, Tenbrook. I'll talk to all of them myself."
"Yes sir."
"Aquinas, location please."
"Level D, main barracks, section four."
With a nod, Poole rose from his seat. "You can handle things by yourself, I assume?"
"Of course, sir."
It didn't take long for the Commander to reach level D. He knew this ship like the back of his hand, as the CO of a ship should. Three marines stood down the hall with their backs facing him, trying to calm the yelling group of roughly 25 civilians before them.
"Where's my wife?!"
"I can't find my son anywhere!"
"Where are we going?"
Those were only little samples that he managed to pick out of the crowd. Hands clasped together behind his back, Poole approached them, looking as calm as he could. There was no use in hiding anything from them. They deserved to know where they were headed. With a sharp, high pitched whistle, the crowd turned quiet and their attention towards the sharply dressed man before them.
"I know all of you are in a...less than desireable situation at the moment, but we must be civil and calm about what is at hand here. My marines are here to protect, and treat you with as much respect as they can muster. But if you treat them badly, they will return the favor. If a combat situation arises, and the ship is attacked, you wouldn't want the soldier you had just pissed off to feel that they can just leave you behind." His strange gray eyes looked each face over carefully, demanding their attention without even having to ask for it. And that's just what he got.
"Seeing as most of you do not know what is going on, I'll try to explain it as best as I can. You all were transferred onto my ship--along with more soldiers-- because the few ships that made it out of Reach were extremely low on space. Covenant ships followed us into the system, and because we couldn't risk putting any civilian lives in danger, had to jump out of there as quickly as possible."
A somewhat older, pepper haired man decided to speak up.
"So what are we supposed to do now? My wife and kids are on a different ship."
"Simple. You pray that you and your family will survive. There is nothing you can do now, except follow the orders you are given. If a marine says you need to leave your room, you do it the moment he tells you. Don't go back for your belongings. Anything important, keep it on your person at all times. Are we clear? I do not want to hear anything else from my marines about you." His words were harsh, but he didn't raise his voice. That was unnecessary. He had their full attention.
With that, Poole turned and left the barracks. Though it was recommended for him to head back to the bridge, to take care of more business, he headed towards the mess hall for some time with his soldiers.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 4:33 am
::: Corporal Formoe, Cole T.; 1251 HRS
::: UNSC Iron Sunrise
::: Receiving medical treatment after cryo-stasis reanimation
The dim lighting in the medical bay almost made it seem as though the ship had lost power, but the dark blue lights overhead were stable and simply gave the back room a calm mood as the sudden clanking of metal on metal echoed through the empty room. A tiny examining room, a small table to lay on, and one genuinely upset ODST wasn't the greatest combination for the doctor to be dealing with at the moment, but a job needed doing and neither of them could really say anything to each other, silence dominating their entire being for the duration of the operation. Whether it was because of their losses, or the general failure to protect one of humanity's greatest assets, neither the marine nor the doctor wanted to even consider revisiting their experiences, and that seemed to be the only topic floating around the cruiser since they jumped away from Reach.
Corporal Cole Formoe met his limits when dealing with his wounds and injuries, both psychological and physiological. Forever doomed to carry the memories of his fellow brothers-in-arms left behind on the planet while he was evacuated like a worthless civilian, he still saw the faces of the marines who watched him being loaded onto a shuttle. Contempt, perhaps, or just duty remained fiercely present in their eyes, but his heart burned with anger that he was ordered to get off the planet and leave the fight to the 'professionals' as they had been described. Along with those memories, he would also carry the scars of fleeing from battle for his entire life as well. Escorted by a platoon of soldiers, the ground invasion was much closer than anyone had anticipated and he had suffered grievous plasma burns on his upper left arm and part of his chest while some friendly fire caught his thigh and hip, forcing him to be medically evacuated from the planet's surface.
Formoe had been waiting for hours in cryo-stasis while the doctors attended to civilians and other non-combatants, but eventually he could no longer be overlooked and had to be treated. With nothing to remedy the plasma burns, the doctor had spent the better part of the last twenty minutes sealing the bullet holes in his lower body and wrapping up the wounds. On more than one occasion, he felt inclined to throttle the doctor, who tried to reason that he hadn't had a break since they left Reach and his hands were shaky. Both of them knew it wasn't because of overworking, but the doctor's own nerves at the idea that his home had just been destroyed, utterly. The sound of tools colliding with the floor of the examination room startled the doctor, but managed to keep his composure, understanding that the mess of medical tools was just a side effect of causing the marine more pain than he wished to deal with.
"...All done, Corporal. Don't go overexerting yourself and stretching your shoulder too much, otherwise you're healthy and ready to return to duty."
"The Commander will be happy to hear that, easy on the patchwork next time, doc." Formoe said monotonously, although he meant for a slight bit of humor to break the heavy tension between the two men, nothing caught and he was left alone again to outfit himself in the mesh shirt and heavy cargo pants, combat boots, and garrison cap, all colored a deep black with a small UNSC seal over his heart with his specialty code and designation stamped underneath the seal along with the barcode similar to the one stamped on the back of his neck. The white bandaging offset the dark clothes, obvious as it was when its wrappings curled around nearly down to his elbow while the shirt was short-sleeve and barely even reached halfway down his upper arm.
Going over his schedule in his mind, Formoe decided to find the contingent of ODSTs onboard the Iron Sunrise and try to introduce himself. His old squadron met him with a bit of feigned hostility toward having a rookie, but it didn't last long when one of the Sergeants finally let him in the joke they were playing; trying to scare the rookie into begging for a squad transfer. Perhaps this reception would be a bit more inclined to accept him as another brother-in-arms, another survivor from Reach, although his stay was brief as it stands. Passing a Commander in the halls on his way to the lower barracks, he rendered a sharp salute, not realizing that he had just walked past his commanding officer and the officer in charge of the entire ship. He had been briefed that it was a Captain, not a Commander, which he would be answering to. Times were changing faster than he cared to admit.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 7:01 am
The young looking woman, probably late twenties, inside the pod groaned as she got woken up, then flinched at the sound of the pressure hiss as the hatch door opened. A bright light is all she saw and her eyes squinted for a while, to get used to the light. She growled as she got out, annoyed by her slight stiffness. She felt around her body a bit, making sure she still had working nerves in the places she needed them to work. She clicked her neck, back, arms and wrists, her knees and did a little three-sixty degree hip movement. Suddenly noticing the young crew member looking at her just the wrong way to look at a woman who just woke up. She glared as she took hold of his collar and pushed him against the wall. The interesting thing is, he looked a lot stronger than her.
"Got a problem boy?" She was seriously thinking of making him a eunuch. She was ready to crush his manhood, when something clicked into her brain of why she was in cryo in the first place. "Whats happening? What is the situation?"
The young man was a little shaken up, but he finally answered. "Reach was glassed. We just left the Tau Ceti system at random as per Cole Protocol."
She just stared for a while is disbelief. She knew Reach was seriously screwed, but didn't think it would be completely obliterated. She let go of the crew member and and turned around. She looked down her top, to see the energy stab wound was now but a scar. An unwanted scar. Compton won't like this. She looked up at the pod she came out of. Or maybe he will. The boy didn't want to speak but he handed over the clothes to change into. A black tank top with "ODST" written on it in bold. Also the standard trousers and boots, which she slipped on quite elegantly. She changed right in front of the boy, of course she had underwear on, but still the guy blushed so much he almost fainted. She didn't have much of a bosom to look upon, but her legs were heaven to set your eyes on. Of course, barely any guy ever got to look at them.
She punched his shoulder and winked. She was still the trickster, even if war made her think to seriously sometimes. She made her way out of the cryo room, and dumped her old clothes in some bin. Seeing some civilians being led by an officer who she quickly saluted as they went past. She got to the mess hall now, which seemed a little chaotic and busy. But she couldn't stop there, she actually wanted to see her CO, and get a full report out of him. She learned long ago rank means nothing to an ODST, all that matters is that you prove you can do the job.
She got to the CO's door, not even caring what he was doing, she just walked in without knocking. Of course, he was busy, but she sat down in the visitor's chair. She just stared at him, waiting for for the man to do his job of addressing the woman.
"Yes Whitney?" He spoke a little too kindly for her liking. Of course, he knew her quite well. Most knew of the female ODST well, the tricksy woman that gets in your head and makes you crazy some say. She also had a good sense of humor that most people liked.
"Tell me, what the ******** is happening? Reach Glassed? Tau Ceti?" She cringed and hissed a little. She had been out far longer than she thought. The CO explained all that happened while she was out, some parts briefly, some in detail. Her old soft self from high school was seeping through slowly, she felt the tears coming.
"That's enough. I have heard enough." She got up and left the room quite quickly, she was obviously pissed off she wasn't there, she was to busy getting her stab wound taken care off. She decided to see if her armor was in her room, to check out how much damage her beautiful teal armor had been given.
She entered the room to find some marine looking through her stuff. She was not in the mood for this, she was going give the man one hell of the beating if it wasn't for the fact the guy shouted at the top of his lungs he was an inspector. She tightened her fist and told him in a very freakish voice to get out. <******** pervert. She ha a pretty good memory of what she owned, she she made sure none of her underwear or precious items were missing. She didn't give a crap about what a marine's job is, a man looking through her stuff is perv.
She found her armor placed beside her bed, and she looked it over. Just the chest plate is damaged. No biggy, that can be replaced. She also made sure her special explosive gear and weapons were there. She gave her weapons names, and made her people knew by spraying it on them. She locked the door, then she lay down on the bed and "stared into space". Thinking about the many things she had just been told about.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 8:51 am
1stSgt Mitchell, Scott P.
>1252 Hours
>> UNSC Iron Sunrise
>>Slipspace
The cramped quarters weren't small or lacking in refinements (as far as soldiering went), they were just... full. There were bodies everywhere. Civilian, military, it didn't matter. Anyone and everyone who had made it off of Reach in time had been crammed into one of the ships at Tau Ceti. Mitchell had spent the better part of a week stuck inside a small Military corvette that had never been designed to hold fifty people plus the crew of 20. Mitchell tried to remember what had happened and how he wound up on a shuttle leaving Reach. Most of it was a blur with the occasional sharp image. The one thing he knew he hadn’t been able to do, the one thing that would haunt him for the rest of his days, was save his family. He had lived on Reach since age four, and his family had never moved. There had never been any need to do so. When he enlisted, he thought the war would be over in months. Once colonies started to fall, ONI started to censor more and more in letters. He urged his parents to relocate to Earth, where he had been born, but they wouldn’t leave without a concrete reason. He prayed every moment he was alone that they had made it to one of the transports. There were hundreds of ships, plenty of chances for them to escape. At least, that was what he told himself when he couldn’t sleep.
He could still see the faces of the men and women who were vaporized by the first wave of Covenant infantry. Grunts massing by the thousands, Wraiths lobbing mortars into the UNSC lines, Banshees screaming overhead; it had never been this bad before. He had dropped in with the rest of the 27th Shock Battalion to reinforce the Marines garrisoned at Generator Facility Delta. When they hit the ground, the Covenant glassed the ODPs it powered. His CO, LT. Burnside, altered their mission goals. There were still civilians trying to evacuate the planet, and they needed protection. The ODSTs provided in spades. The closest city had been San Ramirez, a costal economic hub. The ODSTs humped it five miles to the city’s spaceports where civilians were massed around the remaining transports and freighters. Burnside had called for evac for the civilians and the UNSC vectored in a few Corvettes. Good for scouting systems but piss-poor in a fight against the Covenant. Those filled up fast. Mitchell had been loading one when the Covenant razed the city. His Corvette took on as many as it could, then hit the atmosphere. He watched as several of the other ODSTs managed to make it off-world before the Covenant overran their positions. When they had linked back up with the Fleet at Tau Ceti he had been reassigned to Combat Team E, 27th Shock Battalion. There he’d met a larger-than-life ODST named Compton. Apparently Compton had seen some action in the same theaters that Mitchell had. The two had become fast friends, and had the good fortune of being on the same ship when the Covenant showed up and forced everyone into Slipspace.
Now Mitchell was knee-deep in frightened civilians and exhausted Marines. He got a lot of strange looks from some of the civilians who had never seen an ODST in person before. ODSTs weren’t the poster boys for the UNSCDF. They were talked about, but there were no commercials (propaganda really) glorifying the existence of Special Forces Troops who dropped in from Orbit. The Glory was handed to the Marine Regulars. Mitchell had been there, and he had done plenty of Special Ops work with the 3rd SOG before he had applied for ODST status. Despite this, he did his best to keep his interactions with civilians civil. As a UNSC Staff NCO, he needed to set an example. Of course, this didn’t mean that he had an easy job of it. Mitchell was used to the tight space and semi-boring lifestyle of waiting on Ships for the call to action, and had amassed a vast number of ways to combat said boredom. The primary tactic in his anti-boredom war was Cryo. The good old freezers helped to keep boredom at bay while in transit. Unfortunately there were more people on the Iron Sunrise than there were Cryotubes. The shortage of Cryotubes was just one of the unfortunate side effects of being on a ship filled with civilian refugees and other Marines. The other reason that he couldn’t strip and freeze was the unknown duration of their slipspace jump. The Sunrise was following the Cole Protocol tighter than ever. Reach had fallen, and no one knew how the Covenant tracked the UNSC’s strongest bastion down. The Cole Protocol was the last real defense against the Covenant. Even the Spartans couldn’t stop an Armada.
A blind jump was just that, blind. The flyboys couldn’t predict how long a jump would be or how many times they’d need to alter course and jump again. In addition, there was no telling what could be waiting for them after they exited slipspace. Normally it was just empty space, but he had heard stories of ships using the Cole Protocol and stumbling onto Covenant patrols, OR the ships they had been running from. That was the other disadvantage. The Covenant ships were faster, which made running from them that much harder. The Navy eggheads would be able to tell it in a more detailed, if less engaging manner. All that mattered to Mitchell was that he needed to keep himself entertained. Right now that meant helping to contain a near-riot on D Deck. Marines and ODSTs had surrounded the civilians as they voiced their complaints and objections. What they failed to realize was that everyone was screwed. Everyone was missing someone or something. The assembly was on the verge of becoming a riot when the Captain showed up and chewed the crowd out. Mitchell wanted to smile and shout a few obscenities at the ungrateful mob (as a Marine he was quite fluent in the obscene tongue) but he knew that would only exacerbate the situation. The last thing anyone needed right now was for a mob of scared, angry civilians to rush armed UNSC personnel with frayed nerves.
As the tensions wound down on D Deck, Mitchell made his way back to the ODST drop compartments aboard the Sunrise. The ODSTs had multiple armories and storage compartments that lined up with the Drop deck for each Combat team stationed aboard the Carrier. Mitchell had served aboard everything from a Frigate to a Marathon Cruiser, but had never seen a drop bay as large as the one on the Sunrise. Carriers were all about getting troops into combat quickly and effectively. He suspected that it was because of the ample hanger space that the Sunrise had so many civilians. But that was pure speculation, and he didn’t put much stock into speculation when the Covenant was involved. Mitchell found himself in the ODST drop bay staring down at the massive bay doors that were currently closed. Everything in the bay was bolted down or firmly stowed. Once the bay doors opened and pods started dropping, there was a hell of a lot of stuff moving through the empty space, and in zero gravity, unsecured items were all the more likely to wind up on the outside of the hull. Several other ODSTs from different teams were scattered about the bay. Mitchell recognized the unit insignia and yellow chest-plate of the 19th Shock Battalion and some from the 7th Shock Battalion. The Sunrise had a contingent of ODSTs from the 49th Shock Battalion, but only a handful had survived Reach. The First Sergeant leaned against the railing on one of the service walkways and sighed. It was going to be a long couple of weeks.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 9:30 pm
LTJG Rosh Penn
/Time: 1252
//UNSC Iron Sunrise
///Slipspace
Rosh was bent over a sink, just done after another puking session. "They just...the whole..." Rosh couldn't even get out another sentence before he washed his mouth out with water. He gasped as he shut off the water and staggered out of the bathroom back to the bridge. As he got there he noticed something strange on the screen but he simply shrugged it off and waited until he needed to alter the course for any reason. Any reason at all.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:00 pm
Lance Corporal Kio Liengod
Rookie ODST Medic
UNSC Iron Sunrise
Kio Liengod looked at himself in the mirror of one of the many heads throughout the ship. The sleek new ODST Standard Armor shone on him. But he hardly noticed. His training station for the past year had just been completely annihilated, along with the billions of people on it. That was it. All that was left was Earth. He looked at the mirror again. Only this morning had he officially been made an ODST. His old Marine uniform was probably torn fabric on the desolate surface of Reach. The transparent VISR now turned opaque, and he exited the head. He walked down the metal corridors of the Carrier, wondering what the hell he was suppose to do? His entire contingent of graduates had been killed. At least, he thought so. He knew none of them made it off the way he did, which could be questionable. He didn't think about it. No need too. He wondered who he should talk to about reassignment, though he doubted that anyone was free enough to do much of anything.
He knew what he would do. He would go to the civilian areas and treat the wounded. He'd been a Medic for about a year now, one of the best, and decided to put his skills to use. He jogged to one of the compartment bays and began working. Around him the civilians became edgy, though he mostly ignored it to help a boy's broken leg. In the middle of making the splint, the new CO of the ship came in and quiet the non-combatants. He smiled beneath his VISR, and finished the splint.
"Good as new." He said to the boy, who looked up and smiled.
"Thank you, soldierman." The young boy responded. Kio sighed, and couldn't help but think how easily this ship could be blown apart.
God help us.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:34 pm
Master Sergeant Danica Carmichael
C.Q.C. Marine
UNSC Iron Sunrise - Cyrostasis Rude Awakening
Danica awoke "Ugh.. Wher..." dazed and confused she lifted her hand, hoping someone was there to lift her. After a few moments she got up and out of the pod and smelled the cold and crisp air of the ship "C'mon mom.. 5 more months and I will wake up!"she giggled as she rubbed her right eye. She was still dizzy but she was more than prepared for leaving her deep slumber, all of a sudden she felt her stomach turn "Oh no!" she almost threw up, but she could hold it in. Within minutes she was dressed and into another room, there was a man inspecting her things, as every other time. She said showed the man the door without a Good-bye and then just say and recuperated, she would do so until she was called upon.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 1:05 am
Kumar, Whitney // E-5
> UNSC Iron Sunrise
>> Waking from a quick nap.
As Whitney woke up from the quick nap she had accidentally fell into, she stretched in odd ways. She grabbed her top, pulling is down then pulled it up over her head. She groaned and yawned as she got up, letting her top fall down by itself with a little drool attached. Walking over to the computer, she looked at her schedule and found out she was on duty in 5 minutes! s**t! She grabbed hold of her hair and quickly tied it back into a bun, with actually hurt her a little. She quickly changed into her ODST gear promptly, almost ripping her clothes in the process. Rushing, she fell over and smashed something glass over onto the floor.
She ran out the door putting on the helmet. Not only did the chest plate have 2 holes from the energy sword, but also everything underneath it. So if something were to look closely, they would see all the way through to the skin. But of course, she was to busy running down to the ODST drop deck to care. It took Whitney longer than expected, getting passed people and objects in the oddest places. But eventually she got there.
She walked through door four, and saw quite a lot of ODSTs around. Some stared at her dark teal armor with the obvious damage. Some knew who she was, and didn't actually expect her to recover that fast from a energy sword stab wound to the chest. But they were glad to know a woman can handle as much s**t as the men. She spotted a ODST leaning in the railing, who seemed to be semi minding his own business.
She walked over, she could deal with her armor later. Whitney was in the mood for some company. She leaned a few meters away from him and then just sighed under her helmet.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 1:37 am
::: Corporal Formoe, Cole T.
::: UNSC Iron Sunrise
::: Entering the Drop deck
Already changed into full ODST armor, Corporal Formoe was ready to drop at a moment’s notice, but his shift hadn’t even started yet down on the drop-deck, that didn’t stop him from forcing himself out of hiding to go and find the rest of his new squadron so he could get acquainted with who he would be trusting his life to. On his way down to the drop-deck, he found himself constantly adjusting the armor over his left shoulder, trying to find the least resistance and discomfort so that he could handle at least the next eight hours on shift. Already walking through the doors to the main deck, he saw several ODSTs milling about, working on pods or getting gear ready. They all seemed too meticulous and restless while they worked, like they were waiting for something to happen just so they’d have something fun to do. He was no different, sit him down somewhere and have him repeatedly perform a single action for the same result and he would grow tired and weary of his station, wanting more action and, put plainly, fun. That’s when he saw them.
Two ODSTs, Sergeants by the way they stood and carried themselves, were perched over the railing of a catwalk two men’s height from the lower deck, peering out onto the few ODSTs that inhabited the cold, solemn drop-deck. One was obviously female by her height and physique, but Formoe knew better than to judge a person by their appearance. The other ODST was nearly as big as he was, built much sturdier and larger than the average ODST, he and this other man shared a few similarities, if not in mind, than appearance. He knew right away that those two were his NCOs and he had no quarrel with that; in fact, he was adamant on speaking with his immediate supervisor as soon as possible, although there was no way to tell who it would be until he received his official transfer orders from the commanding officer of the ship. With nothing left on his mind but to tend to his duties, he seemed to fade away and blend into the bustle of ODSTs on the lower deck, either helping with some heavy lifting or checking over the pods with another trooper. Despite all this, no one seemed to even realize that he was new to the military, much less a rookie of an ODST. The way he carried himself and his knowledge of the components of the equipment they all placed their very heart and souls into seemed to radiate a kind of wisdom from him, though some of his fellow ODSTs simply looked on it annoyance while he went from pod to pod, helping wherever he could. Perhaps it was his helping hand that set off alarms in the veterans minds, knowing that if an ODST can’t do something then they aren’t meant to was a philosophy that he wouldn’t be able to grasp, always there to lend a hand where it is needed.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 4:45 pm
Commander Andrew Poole
> 1300 Hours
>> Heading towards the Drop Deck
The Commander's talk with the marines in the Mess Hall wasn't exactly successful. No one was willing to believe that Reach was actually gone. Everyone knew how much was riding on that single planet's survival, but in the end, despite everything, it fell anyway. Hundreds of thousands, even perhaps a million lives were lost. And whatever it was that had been a success, wasn't even all that significant. Much to his surprise, some marines had even begun to cry. They lost close friends, not so close ones, and even family. It was a time like this that made him glad that his family was safe in "The Zone" back on Earth. Just the thought of losing Cassie sent a cold chill down his spine.
As he exited the Mess Hall, the Commander removed a small data pad from one of his pockets. Tidbits of information scrolled across the screen, thanks to Aquinas uploading the information to the device every time anything happened.
"So I noticed that the Marines didn't like the news." Her voice crackled over the data pads single, tiny speaker.
"Of course they didn't. No one ever wants to hear that a planet has been glassed." He paused for a moment, looked away from the data pad, and down at the floor.
"I need you to do something for me, Aquinas."
"Yes?"
"Send Cassie a message... Tell her I'm safe. You still have her information, right?" His voice was soft now, just barely above a whisper. He didn't want anyone to hear the pain in his voice, because that was a sign of weakness. Andrew didn't want his marines to know that there was something troubling their Commander. His job was to be strong, and lead them, no matter what.
"Of course sir. Chawla Base, correct? It'll take some time for her to get it, but the moment we're out of slipspace, I will send it."
He smiled slightly, glad to know that the AI knew how much this meant to him. "Thank you." Putting away his data pad, he continued on his way to the Drop Deck, for some time with his ODSTs. Seeing how many of the Marines had reacted to him being their ships CO instead of the Captain Blake they had expected, it was best to assume the ODSTs thought the same way.
The doors into the Drop Deck hissed softly as he entered the somewhat large section of the ship. Giving the nearest wall a little knock, Poole grinned, and called out loudly.
"Yoohoo~! You troopers don't waste any time gettin' prepped, now do you?" It was nice to see that they were getting ready extremely early. Hell, the ship had just gone into slipspace not too long ago, and from what he saw, most of the pods were already prepared to drop.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 5:30 pm
Lance Corporal Desmund Cain
UNSC Iron Sunrise
Desmund held his right arm, as it throbbed underneath it's bandages. The soreness subsided slightly, and he continued eating. The mess crew had been working around the clock, like everyone else, to service both the marines and naval crew, and the civilians.
He stared at the food before him. He had no clue what it was, but he ate it anyways.
Everyone around him was still upset about Reach. Understandably so, as most of them had spent their childhoods there, and had family who now lay dead. Desmund barely cared. He had only been posted there for five years, and knew barely anyone there. He had always kept to himself. He looked at his food again, and decided that it wasn't worth the effort it took to eat it. He shoved it under the nose of a civilian, and stood from his seat.
He exited the mess hall and walked down the hallway towards the vicinity of the barracks. Perhaps there was a vacancy in one of the beds.
As he entered the barracks, he immediately knew his fate tonight would be the stainless steel floor. Civilians and soldiers filled every bed, some two to a twin-sized bed.
He simply turned and left the room. He looked at a laminated map of the ship, and found the gym.
Now with a target, he walked a little faster. He could smell something on the air now. People. He turned a corner, and a group of civilians were all huddled together, leaning against the wall. They were all in line, waiting to be given armor and weapons. Volunteers to help against the Covenant, as the marines were running short on this ship.
He passed them by, and entered the next door. The room ahead of him was empty. Several machines sat in this room. Desmund found the free dumbbells, and began working his right arm. The dressing turned red along his stab wound, but he kept working it. It had to be strong as soon as possible.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 5:56 pm
Master Sergeant Danica Carmichael
C.Q.C. Marine
UNSC Iron Sunrise
Danica quickly got suited up, she was fully geared and equipped with her weapons in minutes. She then headed out into the hallways of the UNSC Iron Sunrise, walking passed many Marines and Civilians but she managed to squeeze by and try to find somewhere silent or with little people in it. She already knew the Mess was a bad place for that kind of setting, so she continued looking in other recreational rooms for the people aboard the ship. After awhile she found the Gym, she entered and then went into the Weight Room section of the Gym. There was another Marine inside but one person couldn't hurt "Hey.." she nodded at the man and then went on the treadmill.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 9:25 pm
Staff Sargent
Sechs Karnock
Status: Getting off shift aboard Iron Sunrise
Sechs was a mess. He was stressed out over all the patients that kept coming in, and he was worried about what the immediate future would hold. He had been in the medbay helping where he could, and the mess of patients he had quickly cleared and moved out had apparently been appreciated by the doctors that had bigger concerns.
He needed something to wind down, and the gym caught his eye on the way back to his barracks. He was also immediately pissed to find some jackass official riffling through his locker. He might not have been nearly as tall as the man, but he outweighed him by a rather large margin. "You, out before I leave a mark." he growled. The man said something about being an inspector, and Sechs clenched his fist, popping a knuckle in the process. He got the hint and made tracks, muttering about this being the umpteenth time today this had happened.
He waited until he was sure the man was gone, and popped his locker, gathering a shirt and shorts. He changed, made sure the lock was closed, and headed to the gym. He was surprised to see only two people there, and one he knew. She was off, so he decided to see how she was doing. "Carmichael? Didn't expect to see you here. Need a partner?"
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