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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 12:39 am
> NAME: Mitchell, Scott P. | UNSC MARINES E-9 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
The announcement that he was needed in the LT's office came as something of a surprise. As it was, SgtMaj Mitchell was in the process of getting dressed. Apparently the new LT didn't approve of Cryo during jumps. That didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. For all it was worth, Lieutenant Jokinen seemed like a cool enough character. Thus-far the squad hadn't seen any combat under their new CO, but the Lieutenant had preformed admirably in the face of insurmountable odds, IE paperwork. The Sergeant Major finished tying the laces on his boots before jogging double-time to the LT's quarters. Unlike the Captain, the Marines didn't have the luxury of individual offices for their officers, at least not on a Frigate. So they used the officer's quarters in the shared cabins as offices in addition to living quarters. He palmed his way into the ECHO team bunks and pinged the Officer's quarter's call button. Frankly, he was still getting used to taking orders from the LT, not to mention working with the replacements. Almost everyone in his squad had been killed or transferred. The only one left was, predictably, Compton. It was almost as though the war had never really ended. He squelched the thought and wondered if this was about his recommendation to make Compton a full Sergeant once more. He'd learned his lesson, and went out of his way to avoid the Captain, for reasons he still refused to explain. Regardless of his speculation, the LT needed to speak to him. "You called for me sir?" He asked into the INTERCOM.
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> NAME: Jacobs, Omar C. | UNSC NAVY O-6 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
Aboard the Armored Prayer, men stirred from their cryo-induced slumber. All non-essential personnel had been frozen for the month-long voyage in the bowels of unknown dimensions. The Captain slowly opened his eyes and leaned forward in the open cryotube. He was completely naked, and quite wet. Omar gagged, grasped the railing, and vomited the lime-green bronchial surfactant onto the deck plating below. He agreed with the general consensus among the men and women of the UNSC's fighting forces that the goop tasted like s**t wrapped in s**t with a healthy added helping of s**t. Not to mention it had the same consistency as mucus, which was just wrong. He shuddered, retching as the last bits of the green goop fell from his mouth. Jacobs slowly stood, then ran a hand through his close-shorn hair. The 48 year old Captain shook his head to clear the bright stars that flickered in his eyes, then walked to the lockers. He was in damn good shape for someone almost fifty, although his face added at least a decade. Baldur's robed form shimmered into view atop the Cryo-bay holotank. From what Jacobs could see of his face, the AI was processing a smile. "Captain, we have successfully entered the Epsilon Indi system. All systems are green and operating well within assigned parameters. "Good. Contact the Amnesty of God and inform them of our status. I'll be in my office. Bring the rest of the crew out of cryo. I want them ready for anything once we make the transition back to normal space." "Aye, aye sir." Twenty minutes and several cups of GRADE-A (GRADE-C actually, the lying bastards) coffee later, and Jacobs was seated in his quarters reviewing mission logs from the second battle of Harvest, circa 2531. He had been there and the reports were somewhat nostalgic and painful. The knock at his door brought his attention away from the past and back to the present. "Come in." He said just loudly enough to be heard outside.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 1:45 am
Corporal; Carlson, Alexander. UNSC Armored Prayer. Captain Omar's Office.
"Come in." As those words were spoken, Alex promptly entered the Captain's office, and walked up to the desk. He saluted in navy style, as in respect to him. The thought of being in the presence of a man that has been in this job for so long, that it was an honor. He pretended to be staring straight ahead, but was slightly looking the Captain. He looks like he needs some rest. I wonder if the Vice-Admiral pushing this halfway to being veteran, to hard? He looked straight ahead once more, as still as a statue.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 2:29 am
Lance Corporal Patrick Jameson UNSC Armored Prayer Mess Hall
Patrick was sitting in the Mess Hall awaiting orders but he had patience and was more then willing to have another cup of water to calm his nerves, He walked up to the small counter, refilling his cup then sitting back down. Two Marines walked past him, he gave them a smirk and a small hand gesture, Patrick always tried to stray from conversation, he didn't want to make any new friends just yet. Patrick had already lost alot of his friends in battle, he didn't want anymore, so he just exiled himself from the other Marines.
He had gone through four cups of water now, no longer thirsty Pat decided it was time for a small walk around the ship. He walked down a narrow corridor full of Marines approaching so he quickly leaned on the wall letting them pass. Patrick had found a empty hallway so he sat up against the wall and began to read a book. Thirty minutes passed before the man even realized he should head back to the Mess Hall "S**t!" he mumbled quietly before jogging towards the corridor that led to the Mess Hall.
He made and no one had come for him "Good.." he sat down on a nearby bench and relaxed, wiping his forehead then returning to his book. Patrick was growing bored so he wondered off towards the Armory, hoping to be assigned a task of some sort.
10 Minutes Later UNSC Armored Prayer Armory
Patrick arrived but no one was around, well no one he could notice anyways, so he began to just check the weapons. He had gone through four SMG's and two Battle Rifles before he had notice any sign of life "What are you doing Marine?" Patrick quickly turned around noticing the Sergeant behind him, Pat snapped at Attention to show respect "Sorry sir! I was checking the weapons sir!" the other man chuckled and walked up to the table of weapons "At ease.." Patrick turned to the man "I thought I would help sir.." the Sergeant looked at him and answered "Good, it's been getting slow, check that rack of Sniper Rifles and Battle Rifles over there, I will finish these off." Patrick smiled "Glad to of service sir."
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 8:15 am
} Corporal Marty J. Torres }} UNSC Amnesty of God }}} Mess Hall _____________________________ ______Beginning transmition______
Marty stretched as he entered the mess hall. Cyro stasis always made him feel wierd. He cracked his neck twice as he was picking up a drink, coffee. He took a sip of the black drink, then smiled grabbed some food as well. He sat at a table with a few other marines, but did nothing behind going through greetings. He just enjoyed his coffee.
He did like the idea of going to Harvest. A major planet that was killed by the the Alien brutality that was the Covenant, a foe that Marty himself had fought against untill just a few years ago. He missed the sounds of grunts falling under his gunfire, wraiths being destroyed from his excellent rocket aim, but he didnt miss the loss of allies. Despite this, he certainly didn't enjoy killing his own kind.
His family was born on Harvest, but they fled after it's destruction, which was why Marty was a Luna, a native to Earth's Moon.
Marty toyed around with his data pad for a while, looking at nothing of importance. Simply waiting for them to begin what they came here for.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 9:56 am
1st lieutenant Mika Jokinen UNSC Armored Prayer
Mika had taken his C7 Caseless and cleansed the inner workings of the "bullethose" when he heard Mitchell's question through the INTERCOM. He checked his office/quarters through for unacceptable litter before opening the door for the sergeant major. "Come in, Mitchell. We need to talk about a few things before the high-ups decide to shoot us to the surface." He sat back behind his desk and offered a chair for Mitchell to sit on. "Coffee? Water? Help yourself", Mika smiled politely and nodded towards the dispenser.
He returned to clean his SMG while talking to his second-in-command. "I hope the replacements are settling in? I haven't heard of any incidents, but then again you have just awakened from cryo." The screen flashed, reporting of slowly accumulating messages, reports and information. Mika waited for Mitchell's answer and took a rag from a drawer. "I read about your recommendation and the results of it. I am ready to back Compton's promotion once I personally see his work on field." Mika tapped his fingers on the table for a moment before phrasing his next thought. He didn't want to seem unsecure but still wanted the sergeant major to know he wasn't the man of numerous battles yet. "I need experienced men to lead the new ones and advice myself with Armored Prayer and its personnel."
He skiffed the memos through, listening attentively to Mitchell before finding the note he was looking for. "But then to business. I have the raw layout of our mission here. Have a look and tell me what you think of it", lieutenant said and slid a paper across the table. He knew he could trust a man like Mitchell to tell his opinion. He leaned against the chair and waited. He needed someone else's view on it, as he considered his own to be a rather limited one.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 10:56 am
Private Gabriel Altair: UNSC Frigate: Armored Prayer
As the journey through slipspace was coming to it's end and the marines were being thawed from cryo Gabriel sat up, stark naked, and coughed up the bronchial surfactant, not spewing it all over the ground as many others did during their travel, but instead swallowing it as if with a pinch of salt, his eyes watering at the horrid taste for a moment. He took only the time needed to get the tears of the horrid taste from his eyes before he reached for his gear, slipping on the BDUs as quickly as the others, without sparing them a glance.
Still he was unsure, what reasoning did they have to come back to Harvest after all this time, then again, what reasoning did he have to question his superiors. He grabbed his boots and made his way to a bench, sitting down to dress. Once finished he stood and walked past a few other low ranked marines before he came to stand in front of a mirror, brushing his hand back through the hair that had just enough length to it to begin to curl, no more than two centimeters and already it curled. Sighing he then made his way across and out of Cryo Hall towards the latrine, for obvious reasons, then after a wash of his hands and a quick dry he would jog towards the mess, to find out what gossip and mission details he could, a hope in the back of his mind that he wouldn't end up crossing another Sergeant as he had back on Earth.
6 Minutes Later:
Altair sat among the group of friends he had made before they left Sol, looking around he missed a face, Johannes.
"Guys, where's Joh? I didn't see him in Cryo or even on my way here?" He asked, his hands fumbling with his fork, still trying to adjust to being out of the freeze, and even more startled with the disappearance of a friend.
Two of the men in front of him looked to each other before Kristoph looked over to Altair and jerked his thumb in the direction of the medbay, signifying the man was injured or in need of medication, and upon an uneasy stare from Gabriel he folded and explained.
"Freezer burn, you know how bashful he is in normal situations, what made any of us think he'd actually go Cryo naked is beyond me." The man said with a bit of a chuckle, adding a bit of levity to the chatter as the others around them began to dish out cards for a poker game.
"Seems our Lance is down, I wonder who will be assuming temporary command until he gets over it?" Kristoph then asked, looking at the cards he had been dealt, a smile then widening on his pale face.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 11:29 am
First Lieutenant Kalitra Jamison UNSC Armored Prayer February 4, 2561 Status: Doing paperwork
Ah, the joys of paperwork. You'd think after hundreds of years of advancement, you'd think they'd come up with a way to... I don't know, circumvent paperwork. But until that day came, it still had to be done, no matter how much you put it off. And with her headache gone, research done and reports filed, it was the only thing left. And so, she started tackling it, that mountain that no one want to scale.
Kalitra really, really hated paperwork. Especially since she was promoted. She never had this much paperwork after blowing something up. Well, soon, they'd be back in real space. And then she'd be at the mercy of the events. But, of course, it would mean more paperwork. Joy.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 2:37 pm
A knock came to Jacobs door not ten seconds after the Marine had entered.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 2:52 pm
>> NAME: Jacobs, Omar C. | UNSC NAVY O-6 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
The Corporal stepped through the open hatch into the office and stood rigid at attention. He looked nervous, something that occasionally happened with newer troops. Although he didn't find out about it until a few months ago, Jacobs apparently had something of a reputation among the Navy. He pushed aside the monitor and stood. He didn't want to give the impression that he was taking it easy. After all, he wouldn't ask anything of the men and women who served aboard his ship that he wouldn't do himself. "At ease Corporal. What can I help you with?" The knock at the door surprised him slightly, but it couldn't be helped. It was all part of being in command of an active duty ship. "Come in." He said again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 4:16 pm
Sergeant Jacob Masterson UNSC Armored Prayer Feb. 4 2561 Armory
Jacob was taken out of his tube and sent for a Medical Evaluation. He was deemed ready for combat and sent to the armory where he was re-acquainted with his armor, rifle, and side-arm. After hearing they were planning on going topside headed for the mess deck to wait for a unit assignment. Jacob's previous fire team had been wasted in Illisum on New Harmony. When the UNSC extracted to Portia he was on his way out the door when the new orders were announced. They were going back to Harvest. The division offer was said to be coming to the mess to give assignments to the unit less many. To many good soldiers died in that city. Jacob grabbed some chow and sat tight. This wouldn't take to long.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 4:53 pm
>> NAME: Hammer, Michael R. | UNSC NAVY O-5 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [SE.413]
The door slipped open and revealed a behemoth of a person. He didn't exactly look like a person, either. The man was so tall that he had to duck a considerable amount when entering the Captain's quarters. As he stood upright before the Corporal and the Captain, Commander Hammer snapped to attention and delivered a salute, "Sir." Hammer's MJOLNIR Mark RECON-VII Armor was riddled with scratches and scars, each one telling it's own glorious story. The polarized visor that was a part of his helmet reflected the Corporal and the Captain in a golden hue, making them look like golden statues from an ancient civilization.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 5:11 pm
>> Warrant Officer Ralen Kentovru. //:- Cryochamber B, of the UNSC Armored Prayer. //:-- Waking up. After however many hours, days, weeks one is in slipspace, travelling inside the cryochambers, you start to get those really funky dreams that the ship's AI gives you. Of course, it's always pleasant, but Ralen never really felt right about them. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but either way, waking up naked always felt pretty good to him.
The 'lid' of the freezer popped open with a hiss, and he stepped out slowly, before almost immediately grabbing the long johns in the locker to his right. His head peeked around the pod next to him, just to make sure the man had woken up fine (he had), before he turned back to the locker to start getting on the rest of his equipment. It was the standard marine armor, with the modified DQ flight helmet. He loved that thing.
After slipping on the armor, and tucking the helmet under his left arm, he shut the locker and started to walk towards the armory. He still needed to grab the M7 caseless and the magnum, then he would be fine to get his orders. He wondered what all they were doing on Harvest; he had heard rumors about something they were looking at, but other than that, it seemed fairly pointless. They had won back Harvest, hadn't they?
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 5:33 pm
>> NAME: Holly, Jamison | UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTEILLIGENCE O-5 >> UNSC Shades of Grey [SOG.ACTUAL]
Holly sat back in his chair, gazing down at the icy planet as his men worked on scanning the surface of the planet, their electronic instruments creating a map of the frozen surface which could be used with standard GPS equipment used in any standard vehicle. Furthermore, with the Shades of Grey continually providing updated information, the Marines and officers aboard the ships would have constantly updated information, usable in their HUDs. However, Holly felt that there was little to see on the planet, and that scanning the surface was little more than a standard drill exercise for his men.
Holly's communication's officer approached him, and the young commander swiveled his chair towards him, waiting patiently. "Sir," the officer said in a brisk voice, "Initial scans indicate that the objective, while somewhat buried under years of ice, is still intact and should be easily accessible with some excavating, which should take no more than a standard hour or so. There seems to be a storm front brewing approximately fifty kilometers south of the position, but it is moving to the east, and other than that, there seems to be no inclement weather. Initial scans reveal no signs of any life."
Holly nodded. "Good work. Hail Admiral Hoffman and transmit this data to him immediately, along with the other ships in the battlegroup. Tell the Admiral that we would be glad to provide him with additional intel as needed, though I don't believe that this planet holds any surprises." He checked his words carefully, ensuring that he hadn't revealed anything about his orders, before continuing, "Continue scanning, since the boys are going to complain about not having HUD data if we're not providing nearly constant data to them." The officer saluted, then spun on his heel as Holly turned back towards the planet, leaning on his hand. Chiron seemed to huff with boredom, though Holly ignored him. There was little that they could do other than wait for Hoffman's orders as they transmitted the data to him and the other ships in the battlegroup.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 10:36 pm
> NAME: Mitchell, Scott P. | UNSC MARINES E-9 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
So, it seemed like the LT was behind bringing Compton back to full Sergeant. That would be good, especially considering that Compton would owe him another one. It seemed like Mitchell was the only reason that the giant ODST hadn't managed to drum himself out of the service yet. He kept his poker face on and stood at parade rest. "Thank you sir, I'm fine." He said, turning down the offer of refreshments. The Lieutenant was acting casually, but he was still an officer. His experience with officers told him that Lieutenant Jokinen wasn't looking for his opinion of Corporal Compton's character, after all the recommendation for promotion was more than enough praise, even if there was a little favoritism involved. The Lieutenant's next comment was interesting, but made sense. Jokinen knew that he wasn't a long-time member of the team, and that the oldest members of Echo, in terms of veterancy, were Mitchell and Jacobs. Hell, Mitchell had been a Marine since 2528, so he knew his way around a battlefield. As for Compton, he and Mitchell had been partners since Reach fell. When the Lieutenant slid their orders across his desk, Mitchell scanned the sheet quickly. Like his eyes, his spirits fell to the bottom of the page. They were standing down. This operation wasn't calling for ODST deployment, at least not immediately. There were more than enough regulars to establish an outpost on the surface and cook through the ice for a while, hardly anything worth deploying Shock Troopers. "With all due respect sir, it's not my place to question the wisdom of my superiors. If we're ordered to stand down, we'll stand down. There's enough work to be done getting these replacements settled in without worrying about dropping into a blizzard." Of course, that didn't mean he agreed with the orders. To be frank, he thought they were bullshit. ODSTs weren't meant to sit around and twiddle their thumbs. Sure the replacements had to be settled in, but eventually they'd get antsy. To new ODSTs, being a shock trooper meant excitement and action, especially the children raised in the later years of the war. The Marine Corps. wasn't just a form of service, it was the organization that had saved humanity. Of course, very few people actually understood just how close humanity had come to extinction. Hell, ONI had suppressed all news of Reach's destruction from the general public for as long as they could. The populace of Earth didn't even realise that the UNSC had only a handful of worlds left. When the Covenant invaded, they were torn from their delusions. The UNSCDF moved in and saved them, or so they thought. Of course none of it had been strategic planning by ONI or carefully crafted tactics designed to bolster morale after the war, it had all been sheer luck. Despite this, the Corps was all too happy to propagate the myth of the unstoppable UNSC Marines and their magical, invincible Spartan allies. And an ODST was even better than the unstoppable UNSC Marine. The newer recruits begged for action and loved the thrill of a SOEIV insertion. Telling them that the mission they had all been getting geared up for wasn't going to be theirs would be hard enough. Telling them to suck it up and take it like men would be even harder.
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> NAME: Jacobs, Omar C. | UNSC NAVY O-6 >> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
Commander Hammer's IFF transponder instantly appeared on Jacob's HUD. Simply because he lacked a helmet with a faceplate did not mean he was completely disconnected from the UNSC tactical battle-net. His standard issue Neural interface had always projected important information directly onto his retinas. His Command Neural Interface was even more impressive. It stored thousands of codes and NAV coordinates and sported the ability to synchronize with a ship-board AI to upload or download information. However this did not mean that he knew about the Commander being aboard the Prayer before hand. "At ease Commander. I wasn't aware that you were coming aboard. Speaking of which, how did you get aboard, we just made the transition from Slipspace to Real Space several minutes ago."
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Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2009 6:20 am
Corporal; Carlson, Alexander. UNSC Armored Prayer. Captain Omar's Office.
Just as he was about to speak, the knock the door made his turn around instantly. A large soldier, one with armor he had never seen before, walked in. Commander? He turned his attention to the unseen face behind the golden visor. Suddenly remembering why he was there. He quickly looked at the Captain and handed over the paperwork to him. "Sorry to disturb you Captain. Just came to make you aware that all weaponry is at 100% capacity, if ever we need it down there sir. But I wouldn't think so sir." He stopped for a second to look back at the large, armor clad soldier. "But never can be to careful." He relaxed a bit, but still kept his posture. He put his hands behind his back and stood still once more.
(Order/RP him out Hege, if you need.)
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