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 Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2009 6:06 am
2nd Lieutenant Mika Jokinen
Regency Hotel
Mika walked here and there and made sure the accommodation was arranged to everybody. The ships above sent down an infinite amount of men, or at least it felt like that to Jokinen.
In the lobby people came and went, and Jokinen realized the hotel wasn't meant for this level of equipment and simultaneous bustle. He asked a corporal responsible for check-ins about them holding up, but he said there were no problems after the civilian staff had explained them the use of lobby technology.
Jokinen was satisfied with that and left the corporal to the onslaught of marines wanting or leaving a room. He decided to have a cup of something liquid before returning to duties.
"Sir?"
"Yes, sergeant?" Mika asked and sipped his chocolate. "Captain wanted to see you, sir", the marine said and explained where the officer was to be found. Mika sighed deeply, quaffed the drink quickly and burned his throat in the process. "Hel***ti!"
After taking some cold water he started to make his way through people, carriage and numerous other obstacles to captain's office.
At the door he knocked politely, as the buzzer button seemed to be broken.
"Come in."
Mika opened the door and saluted after entering. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Captain lifted his head from the paperwork and nodded. "I did. Please sit."
"As far as I know", captain started when Mika had sat down, "you were transferred here some three months ago."
"That is correct."
"You replaced old Hamrock and settled down surprisingly quickly. I have no reports of ill-behaviour or other shady activities." Mika nodded, but remembered his more "active" time at high school, university and years before joining the UNSC. He had calmed down from then, like a candle that hasn't got stearine anymore.
"But enough of your past. You have done well at organizing the Regency hotel for the marines. The tourist-service program was a bit over the top, but as I haven't heard complaints I'll leave it be."
"Thank you, sir." Mika knew that Captain knew how many people there were behind the little campaign, but he wanted to hear the actual reason for being invited to captain's office.
"I am ordered to send troops to fill up the gaps. This doesn't affect high-ranking officers, as they are needed to retrain the troops who will replace the ones we send elsewhere."
Mika nodded. This was usual practice, as the fresh marines from training facilities needed to be roughened up a bit before sending them to actual operations. Mika guessed he was to train the newcomers after their arrival.
"However, I have to send you too. You are one of the few ODST-status operatives we have, and every helljumper is needed at the field."
This left Mika with conflicting thoughts. On one hand he wanted to fill his duty and actually use the training he had had, but on the other he had gotten used to life at Portia. Captain diagnosed Mika's silence correctly. "I know how it must feel, I felt the same when I was ordered to go years back. But these are the orders. One piece of advice though: You have to make the best of the situation. This is an opportunity, no only duty, lieutenant. Dismissed."
"Yes sir. When do I leave?"
"Immediately. Collect your belongings and contact officers from Armored Prayer, you have been sent there."
With confused mind and worry of making sure his belongings went with him he left the office and started to walk towards his own room at the barracks. Odd times.
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Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:50 pm
Orbit of New Harmony
Portia
Regency Hotel
Central Elevator
"Unfortunately, yes." Compton slowly took his armor off revealing the thin under shirt and shorts he wore underneath his ODST armor. He brushed off some of the residue from the inside of the suit and pulled open his rucksack, searching for some more "civilian" clothes. After a moments worth of searching he found something that satisfied his vision of what he wanted to look like this evening. He slipped into the clothing and pulled the buttons up on his shirt until he was all dressed. Another reach into the ruck sack and he pulled out a glass bottle, his favorite cologne. A few sprays and a pungency filled the room. Finally prepared he turned and faced the rest of his roommates, who were now staring at him as though he were the devil himself, "So when are we hitting the local bars? You know I can't go solo tonight."
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Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:56 pm
UNSC Armored Prayer
Geosynchronous orbit above Regency Hotel, Portia
"Well, that's all we can do for ya. Take it easy, I don't wanna see wounds like that again for a while. At least not from you." The doctor spoke with a worried, yet somewhat at ease tone. "Right, thanks doc. I'll let 'em heal before getting into any trouble." Kriston knew he was lying to the poor doctor. He always did, he hated being put on medical leave. To him it was a sign of weakness, or something along those lines. Whatever the psych guy had told him. Kriston rushed to his bunk, grabbed his gear, and rushed to the launch bay to catch the next shuttle out.
On the way, Kriston noticed his shotgun barrel hadn't been cleaned recently, and decided to make that take the entire trip. He looked around briefly at the prying eyes of the Marines who envied his status, supposed expertise that came with being an ODST, and most of all his combination of MA7K and Shotgun. "What?" He said to the private closest to him. When the young grunt looked down at the floor, Kriston scanned everyone else, until all of their eyes weren't looking at him, then continued cleaning. About five minutes later, a voice came over the com system. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We're going to be experiencing some slight Atmospheric entry turbulence, so please fasten all seat belts and remain stationary for the duration of entry." Kriston and the other Marines chuckled in amusement at the pilot's speech. When the ship hit ground, Kriston got off first and headed for the Hotel.
After arriving, Kriston rushed to the elevator and pushed the button. When the elevator hit "L" floor, he grabbed his bags and piled in between two Marines with half the load. One of the Marines eyed his bags and made a comment to the other that went something along the lines of, "What does this guy have? Mongoose parts? Miniguns? What?" To which Kriston thought to answer as he hit the forty-seven button, "Nah, just a nuke or two, a couple components from Pelicans that I took off for sagotage, and the head of Captain Jacobs" The Marines looked at each other with a manner of confusion as Kriston laughed. He was indebted to Jacods, but still would make fun of any Commanding or Executive Officer whenever the time arrived. When the elevator reached floor forty-seven, Kriston got off and found his room, where he unloaded all of his gear, and took a nice long nap.
((Three things, One: Sorry for not posting in a while, exams and studying kept me off for a long time. Two: Sorry for the sloppiness of this post, I'm excruciatingly tired, and can't think in a coherent order. And Three: If I don't make sense in the story, PM me and I'll fix it.))
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 1:59 am
Over hearing what Compton said about them going to the bar, he thought about going too. "Yo man, I need to go get drunk too." While he said this, he walked over to his gear and opened his sniper case.
He decided he should assemble the sniper, before it was actually needed it. So he sat down on his bunk and grabbed the pieces he normally starts with, the handle and barrel, it being that it is only pulled apart into six parts. He looked up briefly watching the rookie lie there really quiet.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 4:13 pm
R.A.G.D.O.L.L UNIT X.2- SERIES 001
LOCATION:
PORTIA-- City Streets
The breeze was nice outside and Dee had completely forgotten what time it had been ever since she left her room with the marine. What was his name again?...Oh! Alex, that's it. She felt terrible for forgetting such a recent acquaintance, but how could anyone blame her? Dee's mind was a curious one and resembled a labyrinth of sorts; a whole new turn at ever corner, hardly any straight lines, and it never seemed to come to an end. Without the doctor and Scott she would be walking in an emotional circle for the rest of her life. There it was. A whole new subject that would cast her into oblivion; was she really alive? Would she be considered a living being? Well, of course she was living, but how much of living could she justify with her preordained existence.
These thoughts kept her busy as she lazily walked down the path of a park. There weren't many people in the place, maybe a young couple or an old woman every now and then, but not much so to disturb her from her thoughts.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 9:29 pm
Holly, Jamison R. | UNSC NAVY O-5
Orbit of Portia
UNSC Shades of Grey, Bridge
In orbit above Portia, amidst the large warships of the Seventh Fleet lurked a somewhat smaller vessel which was unconventional in both appearance and function. The matte-black, Prowler-class corvette was very lightly armed compared to its larger sisters, sporting only a pair of pulse lasers, and it was significantly dwarfed by the more impressive frigates and destroyers. Nevertheless, the tiny stealth corvette served a function that was just as valuable as the warships which were now floating amongst the stars above New Harmony; it provided intelligence and electronic data which were used for their tactical value and could literally turn the tide of battle. Unlike the large warships, the Prowler was built for stealth and evasion, a tactic which perfectly suited the young man commanding the small vessel.
Commander Jamison Holly sat in the command chair on the bridge of the UNSC Shades of Grey, frowning slightly at the illuminated chessboard that was resting on his lap at the moment. Next to him, standing on a small pedestal that was attached to the left arm of his chair, was the small avatar of an AI. Unlike most AIs, this was a Smart AI designed by ONI for use by its operatives. Its avatar was the form of a centaur; the horse-like body and the beard and short hair of the centaur were black, but the human torso and face were a stark white, giving the avatar an almost ghostly appearance. Its name was Chiron, and at the moment, it was making the Commander look downright foolish in the game of chess that the two were playing.
"Check," Chiron said with a note of smug satisfaction as one of the holographic rooks slid into place opposite Jamison's king. The ONI agent frowned, running his fingers along his chin as he eyed the chessboard. On deck, some of the officers had stopped to watch as well, and many of them were chuckling in amusement at watching the young commander losing to Chiron. Jamison and the Smart AI had played chess several times in the last three months that they had been paired with each other, and nearly every time, Chiron had wiped the floor with the young commander. The few times that Jamison had won, he suspected that the AI had let him win. This time, however, he noticed a flaw in Chiron's strategy. With a grin, he slid a bishop up, effectively blocking the rook and replying, "Stalemate."
Chiron frowned, then sighed as the holographic board flickered off. "You cheated," the centaur pouted.
Jamison shrugged. "A tie is better than losing, and I only had three pieces left." The commander stretched his cramped muscles, then took on a more business-like tone, turning to his bridge crew, which snapped to attention. Over the last few months, they had grown accustomed to predicting when the commander was about to give orders. Jamison couldn't help but smile to himself; he had found himself a very good crew.
"Alright, men, listen up," he said, rising from his chair and striding over to the viewport, before turning to face them. "We have a job to do, and I want it done quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Lieutenant Welsh, I want you to begin a scan of the surface of New Harmony. While we might not be able to occupy the planet fully at the moment, it'll help the fleet if we can anticipate their positions and which areas are most heavily guarded. Lieutenant Edwards, I want you to keep the engines warm, but not hot, in the event that we have to move out quickly. I don't know when the Admiral is going to expect us to be ready, but it could be in an hour, or it could be in three days. Either way, I want us ready to be ready to move if necessary. Ensign Ivan, keep a communications link open, in case we're contacted. Lieutenant Black, keep your hands off of the weapons for now. Understood?"
A chorus of "ayes" resounded against Jamison's ears, and he nodded, heading back to his seat to gaze out at the stars, while his lieutenants carried out their assigned tasks. Beside him, Chiron spoke in a low voice. "You didn't sound overly enthusiastic."
Jamison glanced at the AI and smiled slightly. "I don't want to be, you should know that by now. Enthusiasm means that we're in a world of trouble. No, if everything works out, this should be a long and dull assignment. Just the way I prefer it."
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 11:31 pm
Mitchell, Scott P. | UNSC MARINES E-9
The Sergeant Major looked back at Carlson and frowned. He had a creeping suspicion that the kid had simply tried to butt his way into the Rook's business. The Corporal was going to be more trouble than he was worth. Apparently he was the only Marine who failed to understand that Helljumpers stuck to their own. Especially when looking for drinking buddies. The Corporal, who was no doubt a fine marine, had neither been on the surface of New Harmony during the attack, nor had he shared any of the experiences that Mitchell and Compton had. Drinking with them would have been awkward at best. The worst case scenario was that he inadvertently said something that sent one of the sure to be drunk ODSTs over the edge and got hurt. While Mitchell rated that possibility very low on the probability scale, he knew anything could happen. Rather than say something outright rude, the Sergeant Major just smiled and shook his head.
"Sorry kid, but unless you're not on duty tomorrow, I can't honestly let you go out and get hammered. Besides, I'm sure there are plenty of regulars who'd love to get drunk with you."
The emphasis on "regulars" should be enough to spell out the differences between them. Mitchell had a great deal of respect for every man and woman who wore the uniform of the UNSC and took the oath, but he still took pride in being a Helljumper. Partially, the truth was that he didn't want to get the kid's hopes up. Portia had been requisitioned by the UNSC, and Captain Jacobs wasn't about to let a planet-full of Marines, some of whom had just been in combat for the first time, have free access to booze. The flow of alcohol was no doubt restricted to one drink per-man. The last thing anyone needed was a group of drunken Marines acting tough.
The Sergeant Major turned to face Falkland as she disappeared into the head with gauze in hand. Apparently not everyone had taken the doctor's advice and stuck to a field hospital. He couldn't tell if it was bravado or a genuine wish to remain with her unit. Maybe if he got to know her better, but he didn't even know what ship she was assigned to, so he didn't waste too much time worrying about it. Instead, he turned his attention to the display that was projected along the wall. Situation updates were constantly marching across the screen. Everything from civilian casualty assessments to the leave schedule was posted on the local net. All you had to do was pull up the right data. That was when he saw it. The cavalry had arrived. His smile widened as he fully accepted that news. A task force had been dispatched from Earth. Apparently Rear-Admiral Hoffman, the commanding officer of the Seventh Fleet was here with the majority of his ships. The news said that drop zones were already being identified and that the Marines of the New Harmony garrison would get a well-earned rest.
"On second thought, maybe we'll all get a chance to relax."
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 1:38 am
He stroked his completed rifle with a cloth and looked up at the sergeant. "Alright sir." He didn't give a Friendly look Mitchell, but not a mean one either, it was more of a look of standing down and letting his superior think he was an almighty warrior.
He placed a full clip into the socket and loaded the rifle. "If you really want me too, I will find a new room to bunk in." He actually said it as if really wanted to get out there. He wasn't fond of ODSTs, he always thought them to be an idea birthed from the old 20th century Japanese kamikazes. All suicidal, stepping into hell and dying for nothing if they loose.
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 12:50 pm
2nd Lieutenant Mika Jokinen
Portia Barracks
"So, they sent you to the grinder?" first lieutenant Harris asked from his bed above Mika's. He was a fairhaired and fair man, well liked amongst the marines and one of the few people Jokinen considered friend.
"Yes. Have you seen my undershirts?"
"Under the office table."
Mika checked the place and pulled out some well-folded clothes. "Thanks."
After a moment of silence Harris continued: "What are you going to do with Oliver and Maurice?"
Mika stopped the packing and looked at the blue eyes peeking over the edge of the upper-bunk. "I was hoping you would look after them. Maurice has always fended for himself, but Oliver needs care and love."
Harris grunted in the manner that could be understood as an agreement. "I can see why you pick me. Oliver is used to me and I am the only one who doesn't get claw marks when dealing with the cat."
Mika stuffed his belongings to a backpack, thought for a moment and then turned to see Harris again. "Could you send my civilian clothes and other material to my home?"
"Sure thing."
"Good. I don't know when is the next time I could do it."
The chance of Mika's own returning to Earth in a box loomed over the room. Neither one wanted to bring it up as to prevent invoking evil spirits.
"Are you happy to go, Mick?" Harris asked after a moment. "Can't say I am but can't say I am not. Complicated stuff, Pierce."
"As always..."
"Excuse me, but could you tell me if the Armored Prayer marines are housing themselves in a specific building?"
"Sure thing, sir. They are at the Regency hotel."
"Figures. Thank you sergeant."
Jokinen pushed his way onward. Getting all the needed stuff moving was a question itself, but now he had to find the frigate's marines. The sooner he'd make himself known the sooner they would accept him in.
Mika rolled his eyes. IF they accept me...
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 4:01 pm
Orbit of New Harmony
Portia
Regency Hotel
42nd Floor
Room 4b
"Yeah kid, sorry, but Helljumpers only." Compton shrugged at the thought of the Marine going along with the two long time friends. An unwelcome addition no doubt, no tonight it was going to be Compton and Mitchell, per tradition. Hell, the two had done this on so many planets that it was near routine for them to do it every time that they were planetside. If one of them wasn't at least buzzed by the time they returned to the hotel, then the planet was officially deemed to be "Not ODST approved." Compton actually had thoughts of making a small website or bulletin on the net about their antics and their experiences at various planets for the other ODSTs, but he didn't think the higher ups would be all too fond of that. A moment of two of awkward silence was more than enough to make even Compton uneasy. The room was filled with bad vibes, or at least, vibes suggesting he get onto drinking. He could never really tell which.
Compton eased his way over to the door as he Mitchell played around with the net. He knew in a moment the two would be out enjoying themselves like old times. The thought was only confirmed as a smile found it's way to his new NCO's face. "On second thought, maybe we'll all get a chance to relax." Compton walked over to the holoscreen and nearly yelled for joy at what he saw. An entire fleet orbiting New Harmony, it appeared as though Hoffman brought in the cavalry. "Ohh man, looks like we've got plenty of time then man, let's kick it!"
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 10:21 pm
Rear-Admiral Hoffman found that walking in his normal, habitual way didn't suit him at all. No, walking with a spring in his step was the way to go aboard the Armored Prayer, a ship he had seen in battle numerous times and that had prevailed with honor. Christopher believed that the name of the Frigate had been chosen all to well, and he was grateful that such a wondrous ship was being commanded by an equally wondrous officer. Hoffman knew from first hand experience just what this man was capable of. In fact, Jacobs was one of the few men and women in the U.N.S.C. that Hoffman really trusted his life with.
As they both walked into an office that ran adjacent to the hangar bay the very sight of Rear-Admiral Hoffman seemed to command their obedience, for when he politely asked for some privacy the men and women quickly shuffled out. Once they were gone and the door was closed the Rear-Admiral turned to Jacobs and patted the man on the shoulder. Omar was a good man and a great officer, but Christopher knew just how curious he could get. Like Hoffman, Jacobs would use every means possible to find some bit of information if he deemed it necessary to the success of an operation. He placed an outstretched hand on Jacobs' shoulder and nodded his head.
"We're going back."
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 10:29 pm
Jacobs, Omar C. | UNSC NAVY O-6
"Back sir?"
Jacobs was somewhat confused. The Rear-Admiral's tone was slightly nostalgic, as though he were remembering something important. From the way the Admiral spoke, Jacobs surmised that it was not an altogether pleasant experience that he was recalling. The Captain was able to keep his curiosity in check by paying attention to his Superior's words and movements. He wanted to be ready if the Rear-Admiral gave away any valuable bit of information through his movements. There was also another aspect to his curiosity that couldn't be controlled. Why had Hoffman insisted on privacy? Hell, why had the Rear-Admiral even bothered to come aboard the Armored Prayer in the first place? One of two things was bound to happen. The first option was that their orders were highly classified, so much so that ONI didn't even trust using the navy's most secure networks to deliver them. The second was that Hoffman was about to tell Jacobs that he was being treated as the scape-goat in the insurrection affair. Either result was unwanted. Jacobs had already given out shore leave, and any top-secret orders were without a doubt for mobilization. He swallowed his pride and let Hoffman continue.
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 10:40 pm
"That's right, Jacobs."
Hoffman took a deep breath of the recycled air and patted the Captain's shoulder. The Rear-Admiral was the only one to know about the operation with the exception of the O.N.I. staff that had assigned it to him and the Seventh Fleet. When they had told him that Jacobs was at New Harmony he made sure they stopped there first before moving on to the "random coordinates" provided. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he exhaled sharply through his nose and briefed the Captain on what would be the beginning of a marvelous adventure with an unforeseen ending.
"Back... To Harvest."
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