|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2009 10:27 am
R.A.G.D.O.L.L UNIT X.2- SERIES 001
LOCATION:
PORTIA--Regency Hotel 1st floor
Despite his gesture, Dee would have already been standing at the opening of the two doors when they parted and was taking her first few steps out of the elevator as she saw another marine practically running to the elevator. Even before he had called out to them she had swung her left arm out and grabbed hold of one of the doors as they had begun to close. She let out a low sigh and awaited the marine to come close enough to the elevator so she could remove her grip, which had already pushed the door back into the slot and set her hand over it to keep it from closing automatically.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2009 8:19 pm
Alex just got out of the elevator when he suddenly had to dodge a marine charging towards him. He just kept his balance, but knocked into Dee doing so. "Ah!" He shook his head and looked at Dee who seemed to of kept her ground quite well. "You okay?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2009 9:42 pm
Orbit of New Harmony
Portia
Regency Hotel
Central Elevator
"Thanks a ton!" Compton called to the girl, finally he slowed his pace and slowly waltzed into the more than luxurious elevator. He gave another swift nod to the young lady and the man, "Thanks for holding it for me! Forty-seventh floor, here I come!" He yelled out like a tourist as the doors slid shut. The lift started slowly, as the gears turned and the cables began to accelerate the car upward. The glass walls allowed him to look out into the entire hotel and as the elevator lifted it started to go faster and faster, the acceleration of the car was phenomenal. Compton shot a glance at the digital display and every second two floors clicked off of the monitor. He looked back out at the hotel, watching as the floors passed quickly by, around the thirty-fifth floor the car began to decelerate once again, preparing for a soft stop at his desired floor. Everyone on the ground was tiny from this height, from the grouchy receptionist to the two that let him on the elevator, he really couldn't make out who was who from this height.
When the elevator finally slid to a stop Compton could feel his weight returning back to normal and everything began to slow back to normal speed, the blurs that were once the floors passing by were now all definitive railings and doors. When the elevator slid open once again Compton stepped out feeling a sense of vertigo. He was so high up, and in only a few short seconds. He quickly moved to the railing and hung his head over it letting out a long sigh. He would've thrown up, but he had better self control then that, he was an ODST after all, he fell a whole lot quicker than that from orbit, plus, the vomit wouldn't be easy to clean out of his helmet. He recovered in a few short moments and began his search for room 4b. He couldn't wait to see who was unfortunate to be his suitemates. When he reached the door he simply knocked instead of swiping his card, hoping whoever he was rooming with was already in there.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 16, 2009 8:24 am
R.A.G.D.O.L.L UNIT X.2- SERIES 001
LOCATION:
PORTIA--Regency Hotel 1st floor
Dee cast the marine a quick glance after being bumped into and nodded softly. Her balance had been kept most gracefully and she didn't see fit to make an argument over a slight nudge. Well, now that that was out of the way she sighed with relief to be back on the first floor. She'd always been a bit afraid of heights, especially when aboard air vessels, and now she felt a calm come over her like a summer breeze, though she still couldn't shake the knot in her stomach. All she could do was try not to think about it and hell, maybe she would even enjoy this little walk after all, despite her minor knowledge of the man escorting her. She was still wary about him, though not as much anymore, and kept her right hand closer to her belt where she had tucked away a combat knife the doctor had presented her with.
It didn't take long for her to recover from the bump and Dee was already
shuffling over to the elegant, glass doors that were the exit/entrance to the hotel.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 16, 2009 7:38 pm
Walking with Dee, Alex went through the doors and took a big whiff of the fresh air of Portia. Finally a planet not carrying the stink of industry. He looked around, seeing both military and civilians walking to there destinations. He saw tanks and warthogs casually driving along side civilian vehicles on the roads and some hornets flying by. "This place is already taken over by the U-N-S-C. We really need to just end this crap with the rebels. You reckon?" He asked Dee as they walked aimlessly to no where. He shrugged and wished he has his sniper rifle with him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 16, 2009 8:21 pm
R.A.G.D.O.L.L UNIT X.2- SERIES 001
LOCATION:
PORTIA-- Outside REGENCY HOTELS
"Hmmm...I gotta agree with you there. Seems like were going to far too much trouble for these rebellious humans."
Dee chuckled at how she stated that; these rebellious humans. She found it far more humerous than intended, if that was at all intended to giggle at, by the way she presented the human race. Was she not herself a human? Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. This 17 year old kid had no idea anymore ever since the surgery and she had doubts that she was in fact human even a little, if at all. There she went again; dwelling on matters beyond her maturity level and she scoulded herself for it. It was a nice day outside and she was determined to have some relaxation from
all this if it killed her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 17, 2009 10:55 pm
Mitchell, Scott P. | UNSC MARINES E-9
The knock at the door startled Mitchell out of his contemplation. He slid off the end of the bed and walked over to the door. The Marine leaned in and looked through the peep-hole. A wide grin split his face and he pulled the door open. On the other side of the breach was a giant of a man. He wore dirtied combat gear with the insignia of a Lance Corporal on his chest plate. The dark body suit was in stark contrast with the taupe hallway. The mirrored visor perfectly reflected the room and its inhabitants. Mitchell could see his broad smile split at odd angles, which only made him chuckle. He stepped back and beckoned for the armored giant to step in.
"Watch your head. I take it there weren't any girls involved this time."
Compton was quite possibly one of Mitchell's oldest friends. The two of them were the only remaining members of the original Echo team. Mitchell had been an ODST in the last few days of the war, and had served alongside echo in the engagements with the occasional alien encounter or rebel movement. All the other members had been transferred away or had been killed in the line of duty. There were also a few who had lived long enough to retire, although the war left them scarred in ways that couldn't be physically treated. So it was not a surprise that Mitchell knew about Compton's demotion and bad behavior. It was also no surprise that he wasn't angry. If it weren't for Compton's occasional flare-ups, he would have been in charge of Echo team. The last time the two of them had been in a similar situation was shortly after the end of the war. Compton had been dating a nurse at one of the hospitals in the rebuilt New Mombasa. As it turned out, that nurse had also been dating an Insurance Saleswoman. The two women were extraordinarily open-minded and thought Compton was more man than one woman could handle. Needless to say, they were in the midst of some interesting activities when a lieutenant burst in on them. Apparently their rendezvous had been in a hospital. It was the classic case of "being in the wrong place at the wrong time". The lieutenant had the courtesy to let them finish, then busted Compton for conduct unbecoming. Mitchell bailed his a** out of trouble when he "found" information stating that the lieutenant in question had been inebriated while on duty. All charges against Compton were dropped and an investigation was launched into the Lieutenant. Ironically, the falsified information wasn't so false. The Lieutenant was dishonorably discharged for conduct unbecoming an officer of the UNSC Marine Corps. and Compton got the girl. Mitchell still liked to rub it in his face every once and a while.
"Your bunk is in the corner. Watch out for the Rook, he's been having a bad day."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2009 10:46 pm
Hoffman, Christopher W. | UNSC Amnesty of God
Space. Oh, space was the last frontier alright. However, it was not finite. Humanity had journeyed into the howling darkness and found new worlds, colonized them, and united. Worlds like Harvest, Chi Ceti VI, and Reach were only the beginning of the colonization. But not everyone wanted to stand united. No, there were those who wanted to be independent of the UNSC, the force that had saved the galaxy and the rest of the human race. Everyone who lived under the UNSC got food, water, and most importantly, shelter. They had even begun to reclaim the lost worlds that had been glassed during the Great War. Humanity was progressing, so why couldn't the Rebels?
Thoughts like these plagued Rear-Admiral Christopher W. Hoffman during most of the Slip-Space journey from the inner-colonies. They had just begun to rebuild and terraform the planet Reach, a project that he was personally overseeing, when O.N.I. had given him the call. He was to take his fleet and rendezvous with Captain Omar C. Jacobs on the moon of New Harmony, and from there jump to a seemingly random set of navigation coordinates. He wasn't too pleased, but he wasn't one to not follow orders, especially since they came straight from Lord Hood himself. Hoffman was brought out of his little dazed stupor by a very soft voice, one of a girl about the age of fifteen.
"Good morning, Christopher."
"Good morning, Alia. Using Reach's time-table, I presume?"
A very faint red light emanated from the holographic pedestal by his chair. The Rear-Admiral turned and approached his chair, looking at the astronavigation charts. Finally he looked at the pedestal. Standing there was the hologram of the ship's artificial intelligence, Alia. She was draped in a cloak that went around her neck and down to the back of her knees. She wore the old, prewar Insurrectionist armor with the white fist on the shoulder pads and the two white stripes on the back of the gauntlets. Her figure was astoundingly hourglass-like, and where the chest plate should have been cleavage was revealed. Her hair, which she had described herself as being brunette, was braided into a single long braid that reached the small of her back.
"You know me, Captain."
"Aye, I should. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
"Ah, yes. You look so handsome in your uniform, I had nearly forgotten. We'll be exiting Slip-Space in a few moments. What would you have me do?"
Christopher nodded his head and turned from the pedestal, walking over to the observation windows. Alia followed him and appeared on the pedestal to his right. He crossed his arms and took a deep breath before he turned his gaze to her. She seemed more human and less like an A.I. every time he talked to her.
"You know the drill as well as I do, if not better. Bring the ship to Combat Alert Alpha, I want all combat personnel at their stations."
"What exactly do you think is waiting for us, Admiral?"
The Rear-Admiral sighed.
"You know, Alia... I just don't know. History proves it's better to be prepared than not."
The A.I. nodded her virtual head to the man and disappeared, leaving him to his thoughts. She didn't want to intrude, and besides, even if the work that needed doing took little to no memory she wanted to concentrate on it. The first people she woke up were the crew of the ship, followed by the engineers and then the rest of the ship. Within thirty minutes the entire ship was bustling with activity and the bridge was no longer a place of solitude for the Rear-Admiral, and the man was sitting in his chair. When Alia reappeared on the holographic pedestal next to him, he found himself strangely at ease. Alia smiled and put her hands on her hips. Hoffman didn't return the smile. He was busy wondering about the situation on New Harmony.
At that moment the UNSC Amnesty of God, along with the UNSC Vagabond, UNSC Ardent Wind, and several other ships exited Slip-Space approximately 100,000 kilometers from the Portia Space Port. A five-sixths of the Seventh Fleet of Humanity moved away from the moon, so that they would orbit New Harmony. The Amnesty of God, Vagabond, and Ardent Wind all moved into orbit around Portia. Hoffman stood up from his command chair and approached the observation windows again, Alia following closely by his side. He looked out over the tropical paradise and rubbed the stubble of his chin.
"Looks pretty peaceful, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does. Tell Roarke and Sharpe to stand-by, and alert Captain Jacobs and the Armored Prayer of our presence; and get a pelican ready. I'm coming aboard."
"Aye, sir."
________________________________________________________________________________________
O'Connol, Andrew | Regency Hotel
O'Connol took a deep breath and grabbed his helmet, placing it over his head so that he could sleep without any interruptions or comments about his feelings. It was the great thing about the ODST helmet: You couldn't see in, but you could see out. He bent over and picked up the lavender soap that Mitchell had hit him in the head with and casually threw it up and down like one would a baseball. When Mitchell made a comment about him not having a good day he chucked the soap back at his squad leader. Needless to say, the fresh lavender scented soap found it's mark, colliding with the Sergeant's big head. The Corporal grinned inside his helmet and hopped back up on his bunk before the man could say anything to him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2009 11:38 pm
Jacobs, Omar C. | UNSC NAVY O-6
After the anchor incident with Compton, Jacobs had returned to the Armored Prayer. He stood atop the freighter's hull and leaned on the safety railing. The view from atop the ship was spectacular. Both frigates were low enough off the ground that minimal effort was required to offload troops and supplies. He had assigned brief breaks for all hands and decided to take in the sights. He felt that this little conflict couldn't be won through constant pressure. He'd let the Crew and the Marines blow off a little steam tonight, although his orders had been very clear. Absolutely any violence between UNSC Personnel or civilians was absolutely unacceptable. He wasn't about to give the Insurrectionists any political firepower. The Captain watched the sun set slowly in the western sky and watched New Harmony rise in the east. It was absolutely breathtaking. The only other-Earthrise he had seen was on the Luna OCS facility on Earth's moon. His duty-cap was held loosely in his left hand and he let the warm breeze relax him. A few of the crew members were reclining on sun-chairs or napping. For many of the Naval personnel, the Prayer's hull was more of a vacation spot than an exotic planet. It was something so familiar yet so inaccessible that they had decided to spend their evening aboard. He didn't blame them. There were very few chances to bring a ship into the atmosphere of a planet that didn't involve combat. He stepped back from the railing and walked across the Titanium-A battleplate to one of the portable drink dispensers that had been brought up from storage. Normally these were reserved for long-term ground engagements, but it fit the situation. He was about to get himself a cup of water when his personal COM pad buzzed. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the small tablet. A message from Baldur traced across the screen.
Sir, we have received a priority Transmission from the Amnesty of God. It seems that Rear-Admiral Hoffman is on his way here. Shall I cancel all remaining shore leave parties?
Jacobs sighed momentarily, although he was glad that his message had been retrieved so quickly. Apparently ONI was taking a much more substantial interest in the colonies.
"Not yet Baldur. Have we determined which Pelican bay the Rear-Admiral will be using?"
Bay Alpha Six sir.
"Make ready to receive the Rear-Admiral. I'll be down shortly."
Aye aye, sir.
So Hoffman was coming himself? Lord Hood had stepped down from his position as Commander of the 7th Fleet and taken his old post in the UNSCDF Security Council. It had been a smart move on his part, and no one could question his experience. Hoffman had replaced FADM Hood as the Commanding officer of the mighty 7th, and if Baldur's reports were accurate (which they always were) had come in force to the Hellespont system. Someone didn't want the Insurrection to spread. Jacobs turned to the nearest hatch and made his way inside. He accessed the ship's intercom and informed all hands of the Rear-Admiral's imminent arrival. He expected them to be on their best behavior to receive him. The Captain knew that they wouldn't disappoint him. As soon as the Read-Admiral was aboard, the Armored Prayer would become the Flagship of the 7th Fleet, and so the proper changes in its IFF tags were ready to be implemented and the event entered into the ship's log. Jacobs had little interest in trivial matters such as those, he went directly to his quarters to clean off and dress in a clean uniform. Once he was finished, the Captain tugged at the base of his jacket to smooth out any wrinkles. He stared into the mirror and remembered a time when he had first put on the uniform of a UNSC Navy crewman. That had been a very long time ago. The Captain heaved a sigh and smoothed his close-shorn hair before placing his duty-cap on his head. The ship's crest was emblazoned on the cap's brow, with a Captain's branches adorning the brim. Five minutes later and he was waiting patiently in bay A6.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2009 11:52 pm
 Commander Henry J. Sharpe
UNSC Heavy Frigate Vagabond
XO: AI: RDK-034-81-001 ALERT STATUS: GREEN
Currently running a ship-wide shakedown
"Ship status report: Shaw-Fujikawa drive is recharging. All weapons hot and ready, safeties activated. Bringing non-essential crew out of short-term cryosleep. AI functions optimal - as always. Will that be all, Sir?"
The dumb-AI looked around his right shoulder at the CO of the Vagabond, who sat in the Captain's chair near the fore of the bridge. It's designation was RDK-034-81-001, and that was just as comfortable a name for it as Roderick, or Rick as some of the older crewmen sometimes called him. What's in a name, after all?
"Negative, Roderick. Update me on the latest orders from the Amnesty of God, and get their operational status. I want to synchronize ground and orbital efforts. No slip-ups. And make sure all our Jarheads get that 'milk-run' attitude out of their heads. Careless errors are the most deadly."
Roderick wore an old knight-Templar's clothed breastplate over a battle-skirt, bracers, and greaves. a shield adorned his back with an arcane Cross on it, with an English longsword at his hip. He periodically donned his bucket-like helm to complete the effect, but realized long ago that human-software interactions ran smoother with the ability to show emotion - however synthesized it was."Aye aye, Commander."
The Vagabond lit up as external lights snapped on, illuminating the ship for the first time since it powered down all non-essential functions for the drop into Slip-space. Pelican crews ran their ships through a few final shake-downs as the Marine squads prepped for intra-atmos travel while the small contingent of ODSTs milled around in their signature armor, waiting to be useful.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2009 11:54 pm
Not long after getting out of the hotel, they were walking down the street a bit too casually for soldiers. Alex was about to say something when he saw up a ahead young man take a older woman's bag just like an amateur robber does. The guy stupidly ran towards him and Dee, Alex grabbed out his M6G, speed walked towards the robber and smacked him in the face with the handle.
Because of the colliding speeds of the gun and the robber, he flipped backwards while still going the direction he was running. When he landed his face scraped across the ground for about half a meter. About 10 seconds later, the guy started screaming in pain and agony. His face was bleeding like a tap turned right on.
Alex kicked him in the stomach really hard, "You piece of crap!" He grabbed the lady's bag and handed it to Dee, "Can you take this over to the lady he stole it from."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 3:24 am
Past:
2nd Lieutenant Mika Jokinen
Organizing the Hotel
"Are the rooms cleansed?" Jokinen asked from the marine next to him. "Yessir!" the sergeant nodded and continued to wipe the floor with a towel. Jokinen nodded approvingly and took a step to go and check the lobby for tourists who would have to be moved elsewhere, before remembering a crucial detail. "How about the soaps, sergeant?"
Sergeant scratched his chin. "Dunno, lieutenant. Corporal Hawks was supposed to take care of them, but I haven't seen him since he went to the supply depot."
"Hawks? Oh no..." Jokinen sighed and made haste to the supply depot.
Portia hadn't exactly been the bustling centerpiece of military action after the war, so it was somewhat inevitable that the marines got bored and lazy. When Jokinen had arrived to Portia, he had seen sloppiness that was comparable to the university's daylife change into a discipline and efficiency that had been missing only too long, as the slowly heated and now combusted insurrection had shaken Portia garrison awake quickly.
Now the situation had shifted towards "regrouping" and Jokinen had been ordered to oversee and organize the hotel for the UNSC. Needless to say, he was happy to actually do something relevant.
"Get off your a** and move those soaps!" Mika yelled to corporal Hawks. After telling an oscar-winning story about how he hadn't been able to complete the task, Hawks began to load the soaps into two boxes. Jokinen helped him to corporal's surprise. "You don't see the picture, corporal", Jokinen said when they carried the boxes upstairs.
"Picture?"
"Yes, the picture. We are supposed to just make sure there are beds and clean sheets for the marines to bunk in, right?"
"Yessir. That's why I don't..."
"...understand why we are carrying boxes of soap", lieutenant completed the sentence for him. "You have always lacked a sense of imagination, you know. It is actually a benefit to a marine, but I want to make stories."
"Stories?" Hawks dared to ask to fill the silence. Jokinen nodded and walked past the door the corporal managed to keep open for him. "Yes, stories. Little details, like these soaps we are about to give away, work as the anchor-points for tales."
Jokinen put the box down into the closet and moved away to allow Hawks to do the same. "When the marines have grandchildren, they are certain to end up telling about their time during the insurrection, right?"
Hawks smiled dreamingly. "Certainly. At least I'd like to."
"Yes, I know about your little romance with that amber-haired lady", Jokinen rolled his eyes and continued telling his thoughts: "They will tell about their regrouping here at the Portia. They won't tell too much if there isn't details like soaps on the pillow, tourist guides, chirpy announcements of not spitting on the floor and the like. Understand?"
Hawks nodded slowly. "I think I do, sir. But what's the point?"
"The point", lieutenant raised his finger in the air, "is the story itself. When a story is told, people will be mentioned. Would you like to be mentioned to grandchildren all across the inhabited space?"
Hawks was a bit confused under the ideastorm of his lieutenant, but managed to nod again. Mika patted him on the shoulder and smiled in style that told: "I am your superior officer but we are on the same wavelength, just this time."
"Then start to deliver the soaps on the pillows. Later on I might need you somewhere else."
"Yessir!" Corporal Hawks saluted and felt a sting of relief of the odd lieutenant walking away. Then a somewhat rebel idea crossed his mind.
"Lieutenant?"
Jokinen turned around and looked at the marine. "Yes?"
"I am starting to understand why you are an ODST, sir."
For a moment there was a complete silence, then Jokinen laughed cheerfully. "Yes, corporal. I am a bit unhinged, aren't I?" he answered and walked away without waiting for an answer.
Present:
2nd Lieutenant Mika Jokinen
Checking the rooms
Jokinen was cheery, as the little project he and a few other higher-ranking Portia officers had masterminded was causing the correct reaction. He could hear marines talking about the soaps, discuss about the Portia marines offering guide-services later on and many other little details that made the situation look more like a holiday resort than a grim military accommodating.
Jokinen knew that this was a bit off the line with many people grievously wounded in the hospital, but he also knew that the more the marines were guided into thinking other things than the insurrection, the better they'd rest during their time at Portia.
He knocked, waited for answer and opened a door with the key given to him by the civilian staff of the hotel. He greeted the men inside and asked the regular questions with a polite but authoritative manner.
"Are you satisfied with the level of accommodation or do you have any questions for your time at Portia garrison's care?" he asked at the end of the little rules and nitpickies every tourist-package had to say.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
