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 Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 10:22 am
1st lieutenant Mika Jokinen
UNSC Armored Prayer
For a moment Compton's reactions surprised Mika. He was expecting more disgruntlement and borderline disobeying, not sheep-like responsiveness to orders. Then he noticed the man he had been talking with only a few minutes ago. A sting of disappointment ran through the lieutenant. It wasn't my authority, it was Mitchell's friendship, he realised. This wasn't the moment of truth, moment of evaluating his grip on the men.
None of his thoughts ran on his face as he lifted his right hand and pointed at the marines taking part in the quarrel. "Marines, I expect to have a report of the happenings within an hour."
He turned to look at the big ODST standing in front of him. "Corporal, to my office, now."
What the hell am I going to do with you? Mika thought as he walked towards his room. He didn't share even a glance towards Compton, nor did he say anything. His first actual day on duty after departure from Portia and already he'd have to inevitably report to Captain Jacobs and try to clear the situation with minimal casualties. With Compton's record it was going to be hard.
He opened the door and walked in, calmly taking his seat. "At ease, corporal. We need to have a discussion. What happened there?" he asked with a polite and calm tone. He wasn't going to hurt anyone, but somewhere somebody demanded blood soon. Infighting onboard an UNSC vessel wasn't something to be taken lightly.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 10:58 am
Private Altair, Gabriel:
UNSC Frigate: Armored Prayer
As the Lieutenant made out of the way with Compton, Gabriel turned to his squadmate and gave the man a resulting thump on the shoulder, knocking him back a few inches before he stretched a hand out and grabbed hold of the man's fatigues the same way the ODST had grabbed his own. Hazel eyes shone green for a moment as the cones of his eyes contracted, his view locked on that of his comrade.
"Do you know what kind of hurt you almost put yourself in? That was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper and you're sitting here thinking a single punch to his chest is going to be enough to incapacitate him?" Gabriel demanded of the man before he thrust him away by the collar of his fatigues, then storming off to a public terminal to write up the report requested by the ranking officer, leaving the remnant of his squad as they were, to deal with their own man as they pleased.
Five Minutes Later:
Sitting at the terminal the Private would begin to write up the report, as requested, having stopped in the halls just long enough to vent.
In regards to the Mess Hall Incident:
Concerning Lance Corporal Compton, Nathaniel, Private Daughtrieve, Johnathon, and Private Gabriel Altair.
February 4th, 2561 : 1334 hours, AP.STANDARD
Subject: Report
Please press /enter/ to continue
-------------------------------------
As requested, the report upon the incident in the Mess Hall, between Lance Corporal Compton, Private Daughtrieve, and Private Altair (Myself). The incident began, from my point of view as an argument between the L.Corporal and Private concerning food stolen in the Mess, I remained neutral in the scenario until signs of combat were initiated between the two men. Attempting to break the situation down before it became a scene in front of the other marines, sir, however I feel my actions only provoked the inevitable.
The initial argument came into place between Private Daughtrieve and the Lance Corporal over a stolen potato from the rations, which even our own men have considered to be meager, much less for a man of the L.Corporal's size. This began a verbal dispute, from which the Corporal attempted to remove himself, however, Private Daughtrieve did not seem to accept that fact and by his own admission pulled the L.Corporal to face him, attempting to initiate combat by means of a blow to the chest. From here the situation only seemed to press on, though the L.Corporal seemed unaffected by the blow he took the man's arm in grip and returned with a firm twist, to the point I worried for my squad-mate's arm, judging by the look of pain upon his face and the nature we've come to know of the ODSTs in general.
At this time I took it upon myself to intervene, placing my hand in a grip upon the wrist of L.Corporal Compton, hoping to talk him out of the situation, while preventing him from causing any further damage to Private Daughtrieve's arm. To this end I was unsuccessful, and the situation escalated, edged on by my choosing of words as well as the physical force of L.Corporal Compton in return, scarce minutes passed at this point before the situation was handled by Sergeant Major Mitchell and yourself, 1st Lieutenant.
This concludes my report on the Mess Hall Incident, between L.Corporal Compton, Private Daughtrieve, and Myself. I apologize for the scene created, but stand firm by my belief it was in the better option to stand up for my fellow squad-mate, than to see him run himself right into injury at the hands of an in-fighting situation aboard a UNSC Vessel.
Respectfully,
Gabriel Altair: Paygrade E-1 Private.
------------------------------------------
:/please press /enter/ to terminate program...
>
>
>>>TRANSMITTION ENDED<<<
When finished with the report to the Lieutenant he would forward it as such to the man's personal computer before taking a moment more to catch his breath and relieve his calm demeanor, checking twice to see that the message had been sent, before he shut himself out of the system and pushed his palms against the table, his chair rocking back before the wheels picked up and the man stood, sliding it back into place and locking it down, staring to the screen for a moment more.
"I'm never going to get promoted at this rate." He sighed to himself as he walked out of the room.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 4:07 pm
> NAME: Westenra, Keira C.| UNSC NAVY O-4
>> UNSC ARDENT WIND [AW. ACTUAL]
"Welcome back, Captain." Keira nodded silently to Lieutenant Arleigh Sterling, her right-hand man. He stood next to the Captain's chair, his hands clasped behind his back as though standing in parade rest. Keira wasn't particularly fond of the Lieutenant; he was known around the ship as the class suck-up. Nevertheless, Sterling got the job done. That was what truly mattered. "What have you got for me, Sterling?" she asked, lowering herself into the meagerly padded chair. Arleigh turned to a console and punched in a few commands, and in a mere second the forward, aft and starboard viewscreens appeared before her. Nothing out of the ordinary; hopefully it would stay like that for a while. "Open the Bridge viewport." she ordered, getting up from the chair. Arleigh placed the proper commands, and as Keira stepped towards the viewport, the covers slid open. There before her was the planet Harvest... The destruction that lines the planet surface... Keira couldn't keep her eyes away.
Her mind broke away from the planet as the familiar ping of the transceiver filled her ears. "Incoming transmission from the Shades of Grey." the newcomer CPO Stanford announced at his console. Keira walked towards the Chief, awaiting a response from the other end:
"This is Lieutenant Commander Westenra. Respond."
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 4:43 pm
>> NAME: Holly, Jamison | UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTEILLIGENCE O-5
>> UNSC Shades of Grey [SOG.ACTUAL]
Chiron seemed to flicker, causing Holly to glance down. The centaur-like AI glanced up at him, then said in a bored voice, "You've got a message." Holly looked up and nodded to his communication's officer, who switched on a television-like set, and the face of the Lieutenant Commander appeared.
"This is Commander Holly. I'm transmitting the coordinates for the excavation site that command wants us to look at. It seems like there is a storm brewing not too far from the area, but even if it does hit the area, it's not likely to be powerful enough to do any damage. However, I'd be careful when dropping any troops into the area. The storm may provide drop problems, especially with the Pelicans. Still, all things considered, this should be a fairly boring operation, so long as we're careful."
Sighing, the young commander wondered belatedly if any of the other captains had received the coordinates that he had sent to them some time ago. After all, there was no reason why there should be any interference; there were certainly a few shattered hulls from the Battles of Reach, but they likely wouldn't have provided much interference in terms of radio transmissions. Certainly, they might have slowed transmissions, but to completely lose a signal....
Looking up from his data, he frowned, noticing the red eyes and disheveled appearance of the young lieutenant commander. He lowered the volume on his transmitter so that the rest of the bridge would be unable to hear their conversation, with any luck. "What's the matter, Commander Roarke? You look terrible."
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 4:49 pm
Lance Corporal Jonathan Coup de Grace the Second
UNSC Armored Prayer
Currently picking himself up off the floor
-----------------------
Being the idiot he seemed to be, Jonathan fell on his way out. Full out fell. His face hit the floor with a dull 'thud', and everyone looked at him.
He smiled, his face slightly red. He heard a private talk to his friend. "How in the hell did he even get in the U.N.S.C?". Jonathan rolled his eyes. He had heard it all.
He was going back to the armory, he replaced his rifle-and turned around. A corporal was there, pointing a gun at a private. Jonathan was now in a mess-he really was loving the way this day was turning out.
However, common sense dictated something was up with the blood-covered private.
He immediately began to speak to the Corporal pointing the SMG.
"Nice to meet you. Lance Corporal Jonathan Coup de Grace. What in the hell happened?!"
He said, confused at the whole situation.
(I came back to the armory...and considering nothing has happened, I figured that I should see what is going on exactly.)
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 5:20 pm
> NAME: Westenra, Keira C. | UNSC NAVY O-4
>> UNSC ARDENT WIND [AW.ACTUAL]
"I'm fine, sir." Keira looked down for a moment, taking in a short breath: "Stanford... Go see if Lieutenant Sterling needs anything." He replied with a short 'aye, ma'am', then left her alone. She looked back up at the Commander. His dirty-blonde hair, which seemed unkempt by regulation, seemed to calm her down while she talked to him. His eyes burned with kindness, a warmth that she had never seen in a superior officer. Keira felt almost at peace talking to this man. She lowered the volume on the transmitter, sighing slightly: "... Surely you know what it feels like to have your heart broken, sir."
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 5:30 pm
>> NAME: Holly, Jamison | UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTEILLIGENCE O-5
>> UNSC Shades of Grey [SOG.ACTUAL]
Holly's eyes widened in surprise as she mentioned that she was suffering from a broken heart. Ignoring the audible sigh from Chiron, he nodded to his bridge, who calmly went about their own duties, pretending that their skipper wasn't talking. They were used to ignoring what was said in his conversations, since they had all been trained in discretion. Even if they heard anything that was said between the two officers, they wouldn't care, especially since unlike classified information, there was nothing relevant in this conversation, so there was no reason for the officers to be listening in.
Turning back to the lieutenant commander, he spoke in a calm, quiet voice, the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes. "Aye, I do, Commander." He paused for a moment, considering what he could say, before continuing, "I'm not going to give you the typical speech of saying there are plenty of others out there and that this will pass in time, since that's patronizing. Rather, I understand how deeply this hurts, and whatever I say, it won't alleviate the pain."
He then smiled warmly at her, his voice taking on an even softer tone. "However, this isn't the end of the galaxy. Something good might yet come of this. In the meantime, while we have a job to do, I'll recommend that you take it easy whenever you can. Take some time to yourself to come to terms with what's happened, and let your officers gain some experience on their own. Reflect on what's happened, and see if you feel any better when you've thought it through, alright, Commander Westenra?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 6:47 pm
>> NAME: Westenra, Keira C. | UNSC NAVY O-4
>> UNSC ARDENT WIND [AW.ACTUAL]
She felt the eyes of her Bridge officers on her as she spoke to the Commander. Keira turned around; "Back to work." she ordered, sparing not another glance at them. Her cerulean-blue eyes turned back to Commander Holly: "Unfortunately, sir," she started, sighing some to quell encroaching emotions, "it's never that easy... It will never be that easy." She looked down for a moment, rubbing her eyes of the coming tears. Feeling that she had quelled them, Keira turned back to the screen, crossing her arms over her chest: "I will suffer as I should, and endure this pain, but I do not wait for a better tomorrow... Thank you, Commander. I really needed that."
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 7:05 pm
>> NAME: Holly, Jamison | UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTEILLIGENCE O-5
>> UNSC Shades of Grey [SOG.ACTUAL]
Holly smiled warmly at the Commander, inclining his head slightly towards her. "Not at all, Commander Westenra," he replied in a cool voice. "If you still wish to talk, I'll be available, though I would recommend that you don't contact me too often in case there actually are some threats in the system that the Shades of Grey isn't detecting at the moment. In the meantime, though, I would suggest that you get some rest, since we aren't going to begin the operation until about 1100 hours."
Holly paused for a moment, gazing out at Harvest, before turning back to her. "In the meantime, Commander, good luck, and I wish you all the best and a quick recovery. Commander Holly, out." He turned to his communication's officer, who saluted and cut the channel, leaving Holly to sink back into his chair with a sigh.
"That was touching," Chiron said in a blunt voice, at which point Holly turned and gave the AI a look. "I'll never understand human behavior."
Holly shrugged. "I'm not asking you to," he replied cooly, turning back to Harvest with a sigh. "Let me know when the other captains receive the coordinates. Lieutenant, I want you to keep an eye on that brewing storm front, and let me know if it shifts direction at all. Keep passive scanners trained towards any electronic activity." The officers quickly set to work as Holly glanced at Chiron. "Set up a board. Let's play."
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 7:42 pm
>> NAME: Westenra, Keira C. | UNSC NAVY O-4
>> UNSC Ardent Wind [AW.ACTUAL]
She nodded to him as the connection was cut, standing in the same position as the screen went black. Taking a breath, Keira had to take a moment to register it all. The man, Commander Jamison Holly, was unlike any superior she had come across. He felt for her, her suffering, offering words of reassurance, and setting her mind at ease...
She never felt better.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 4:15 pm
Sergeant Jacob Masterson
UNSC Armored Prayer
In transit to Hanger 2
Jacob had finished his chow and was heading back to the armory to respond to the previous transmission when the scuffle had broken out he was about to step in when the Officer diffused the situation.
He crossed the deck and entered the armory where his friend had his rifle stored. PFC Jackson Green stood behind the workbench in the armory cleaning a C7 when the Sergeant entered.
"Another day another dollar Private?"
"No time like the present, Sarge."
"Still Got my rifle?"
"Nice and shiny, freshly oiled just after you were put in cold storage." Jackson handed a black rifle case to Jacob.
"Thanks Private, oh and I'll need a new sidearm, my old one broke in an insurgents helmet in Illisum."
"Sure Sarge, this will be number twelve I believe."
"Put it on my tab." Jacob said as he walked out of the armory and headed for the lift.
"Gladly Sergeant!" Jackson yelled after Sgt. Masterson.
Jacob got onto a lift full of corpsman and ODSTs. They all got off in the same hanger. He moved over to a group of mismatched Marines, Their unit numbers didn't match up, and sat on an ammo crate next to a PFC St.Piere who was talking to a female corpsman. Jacob opened his case and took out his baby, a slightly modified SRS99C Rifle. The modifications were a modified trigger, specialized NV/N scope, and a right twisting barrel. The modifications were meaningless to a normal grunt, but he had recorded all of them if he had to report it to his superiors. He saw several Officers pacing the deck and wondered if any of them had his orders. Only time would tell.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 11:40 pm
Captain Omar C. Jacobs
> UNSC ARMORED PRAYER [AP.ACTUAL]
>> Bridge
After dismissing the Commander, the Captain had briefly checked with Baldur on the status of the mess hall incident. He was surprised, and glad, to hear that Compton had surrendered without a fight, but his mind was elsewhere. The hatch parted and the Captain stepped onto the bridge. The Marines guarding the hatch snapped to attention and delivered crisp salutes in perfect unison. He nodded to them and walked to the situation table. On his approach, Baldur activated the holographic table and displayed the projected the coordinates provided by the Shades of Gray. The terrain was icy but not necessarily rocky. There were several hills scattered about that could have been peaks at one time. Regardless, the objective was buried under a mountain of ice and snow. The Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully before selecting several landing zones and potential locations for a ground-side base of operations. He uploaded the data to the local UNSC battlenet and highlighted several priority areas. The Shades of Gray's surface scan had been invaluable in determining the base camp locations. The vastly deteriorated remains of previous UNSC occupations and the tattered remains of human civilization still dotted the surface of Harvest, although there was little left. Now they were almost as alien as the remains of the Covenant structures, destroyed by UNSC ground forces when he had been here last. The ground was solid, frozen above and below. One of the deconstructed bases could be salvaged, and it was close enough to the objective to warrant consideration. The structures above ground had been removed, and the automated camp systems beneath the surface should still be in working order. They would have to dispatch maintenance techs to fix any corrosion damage and possibly replace any broken equipment, but aside from that they should be able to get a fully operational base underway. The Amnesty of God even showed a POD in her inventory. That meant they could deploy a modular Firebase to the surface instead of the more permanent (and time consuming) choice, duracrete prefabs. That was good, very good. Jacobs cleared his throat and opened the ship-wide PA system.
"Attention all hands, this is the Captain. The first ground troops will leave for the surface at 1100 hours. All Marine personnel are hereby ordered to report to their commanding officers for transport assignments. Jacobs' out."
The Captain turned away from the situation table and sat in his chair. He gazed intently out the view ports at the frozen surface of Harvest. The world was so oddly serene now. A quiet grace, silent like the tomb. He only hoped that when they pushed aside the headstones there would be more than an empty grave.
"Baldur."
"Captain?"
"Inform the Ardent Wind and the Amnesty of God that we've finished preparations and are ready to land ground forces. I've marked the best location for a forward CP. The Amnesty of God should use their POD to drop in a firebase. We can use the old framework here to minimize the supply impact."
"Aye sir, message away."
"Thank you Baldur. Prioritize flight plans and give the green light."
"Aye aye sir."
____________________________________________
Captain Malcolm Hoban, UNSCDF MARINE AIVIATOR CORPS
> D77H-TCI ROMEO-204 "Bulltrue"
>> Hanger Bay 2
Captain Hoban ran the pre-flight checks for his bird, Romeo-204. She'd seen him through everything from the last months of the war to the insurrection of New Harmony and she kept on flying. The Aviator stood wearing gray fatigues and light body armor with his helmet cradled under his left arm. His short dark brown hair was long for a Marine but still well within regulations. It was slightly tousled at the moment and somewhat unkempt. Prior to the announcement he had been in the middle of a very important wrestling match. Perhaps the most important in recent history. This match would determine the number one Pelican crew on the Prayer. In fact, the distinction of being the arm wrestling champion aboard this frigate was possibly one of the most important parts of serving aboard such a fine Navy vessel. Of course, that didn't mean he could ignore his incredibly important job of ferrying troops and supplies to the surface of whatever godforsaken backwater or highly civilized utopia the UNSC decided to invade next. Currently that involved dropping men and material onto Harvest. Fine by him as long as he got paid. He flicked a thumbs-up to his copilot and good friend Captain Simon Washburn nodded and climbed inside the bird. Their Crew Chief, Chief Warrant Officer Jayne Baldwin was busy completing his pre-flight checklist as well. Namely chewing on the end of his unlit Sweet-Williams Cigar.
"Jayne, get aboard and get ready. We're gonna have a boatload of Marines to take to the surface. I want my troop bay to be nice and shiny by the time they climb aboard."
The CWO nodded and placed the unlit cigar in one of the pockets attached to his chest-plate. He flashed a thumbs-up to Hoban and smiled.
"You got it boss. But don't expect me to wipe their asses when they sit down."
Bulltrue chuckled and climbed aboard. The cockpit of ROMEO-204 was just like that of every other D77H-TCI, but this one was special. It had a 100% grade-A special-issue UNSC-certified plastic stegosaurus was taped to the support strut of the holoprojector mounted inside the cockpit. He gave it a thoughtful look before taking his place at the Pilot's station.
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 12:15 am
Jones, Bradley D.
On board the UNSC Vagabond
RFD Status: Inactive / Pending
Locator/ID Tag: [FST.SGT.BDJ : B-115]
Location: Crew Quarter Deck 6 / Subsection D / Room 324
The sunny country side seemed to devour the sky, as the rolling grassy hills became part of the landscape. The cold soft wind blew against Brad's face. And the sun, bared down on him like a spotlight on a dancer. He felt at home once more.
The wind blew the grass in a swaying motion. Tall grass and the fuzzy lines of the knoll's danced along the rocky earth below them. Making the loamy setting calm and peacful.
Brad took advantage of the situation and sat down on this brisk day. The grass felt soft and warm from the sunlights unforgiving array. And the sky was a deep blue color, still teaming from-
Jones...
His hair copied the grass, and swayed back and forth to the motion of the symphony of wind. Not being able to do much on this sunny day was-
Jones... Anyone home?
Nothing could disturb him, he didn't wanna leave... he-
JONES!
A flash of light came to his attention as his eyes focused the soft light into a subtle tone that his mind could comprehend. He was dreaming. Of Iowa again. Of course. It was always the same scenario. Him, sitting on a knoll on the perfect day. He wished he was back there.
Next to his bed, Lieutenant Banis was just sitting there on his locker stool. Grin on her face from ear to ear, like a child with a dirty trick, she pointed that grin right at Jones.
"Hey Sergeant. How's it going?" She said, giggling.
Shaking his head to get some of the thought process going, and to shake the tiredness off, he smiled back, hand on his forehead.
"Tired Lieutenant. You?" He asked, voice strained from just getting up.
Hopping off the stool, she extended a hand.
"I'm needed. And your coming with me."
Brad's face turned to confusion. "What?"
He then grabbed her hand and allowed her to help him up.
"Explain on the way, lets go Sergeant."
***
The busy corridor's of the Vagabond were filled with the bustles of people that filled it all the time. Coprsmen, ODST, Marines... they were all there.
"So, Lieutenant..." He started to speak.
A slight "Hmmm?" came from her.
"Why am I coming along for the ride now?"
"Well, Jones, they asked me to be uptop in the bridge. They also wanted be to bring my First Sergeant. So here you are."
He shrugged. "Thats fine. I was only inquiring."
"Shut it Jones." She snapped.
"yes mam." He replied. And they entered the lift for the bridge.
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 8:34 pm
Corporal | Carlson, Alexander.
UNSC Armored Prayer | Hanger Bay 2 >> D77H TCI ROMEO-204
There was a lot of rushing around by corpsman, marines and the odd ODST. They were getting ready for ride down to the wastelands of Harvest. Cargo was being placed here and there, Pelicans were being tested is various ways, and Corporal Alexander was ordering some punk a** rookie who loved to run his mouth at anyone, even if it meant he had to carry the heavy ammo boxes. He felt like he should just wait until they get down there, and say he got "lost" in the wastelands like an idiot.
But no, Carlson isn't like that, he would never kill his own, no matter how much he hated him or her. He preferred to, if he can make them do so, make them do his work. So as work was being done by the many, he heard the teams were about ready to go in Hanger Bay 1.
"Looks like we gotta work double time don't we sir!?" He was of course, speaking to the nearby Gunnery Sergeant.
"No s**t marine, get to it."
Alex did go double time, ordering all the privates nearby to do this and that. But of course he did carry the odd thing to speed things up even more.
After a while, every was ready and set to go. They were just waiting in their pelicans, waiting for the order to go by the Admiral.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 11:44 am
>> NAME: Westenra, Keira C. | UNSC NAVY O-4
>>UNSC Ardent Wind [AW.ACTUAL
Keira stood still as she peered out the forward view-port. Her hands clasped behind her back, she allowed the vastness of space to envelop her, allowing her to relax. After talking to the Commander, she had become quite calm... She was, if anything, surprised at Holly's words. Why would he offer such words to someone he has never met? Why would he say such things just to make her feel better? Maybe he realized such pain could overwhelm a person; affect their state of mind. Her eyes grew weary at the thought: Jamison said those words to make sure she was still fit for duty, that she could command her ship without any emotional interferences. He didn't trust that she could set her heart aside for her duty... "Hmph." she grunted to herself as she turned around and faced the rest of the bridge. Keira walked up the platform towards the grav-lift. "Arleigh," she muttered as she neared the exit, "you're in charge. Download the coordinates onto the nav-monitors, and alert me of the start of the operation... I will be in my quarters." The Lieutenant nodded as Keira boarded the grav-lift, the hatch sliding closed.
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