ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Aug 25, 2015 15:39:54 GMT -5
She breathed out, the water vapour in her mouth condensing momentarily on the glass of her helmet. She turned, not around - but rather rotated, turning herself completely upside down as she grabbed a hand on one of the metal plates of the First (currently only) New Hamburg Space Tether. She gripped, and threw herself up - or, rather.. Away from the planet. Weightlessly she drifted, the next supporting ring was quite a distance away. She watched it edge closer, reluctant to waste any more of her precious pack to get her there quicker. The metal construct edged nearer, until finally it was under her. She reached a hand out and gripped a bar built into the side for such an excursion. It slowed her somewhat, but she cooked her T-Pack to bring her to a rest. Well, as restful as she could be hurtling through space like a bullet. This specific panel had been blown open, the outer layer sheered off by space debris. While not an immediate threat to the structure, it was a weak spot. One that had to be dealt with. She reached down to her 'belt' on her EVA suit, a bulky thing not unlike the ones used by UNSC Marines in similar situations. Her movements were slow and cumbersome in space, but she tugged out a tool that could only be described as a combination of a blow torch and a bio-foam canister. The tool connected to a pack bore on her back. It'd been bloody heavy in-gravity, she was actually glad when she was out in space.
The tear in the Space Elevator exposed several wiring pipes, their clearly marked orange colouring were a warning. Luckily, none had been severed by the shrapnel that had tore through the plate covering it. That would've required a much longer job to repair... No she was comparatively lucky in this job, she just had to patch a hole. She held the canister to the edge of the torn metal sheeting that remained. With a press of a lever it sprayed out a substance not unlike foam, but glinting in the sunlight of the system's yellow sun - so similar to Earth's own, that they'd named it after her: Soli. The Titanium-50 Alloy in the foam provided it a strength that the interior, inferior, metals lacked. It was also radiation proof, so the elevator wouldn't suddenly stop if a sudden EM surge crunched the electric wires below. All in all, it was a bloody good repair tool. She kept pulling on the trigger, filling the hole in the Tether's outer layer until every inch had been sealed. It stood out from the grey shell on the ring, stark in its yellowness - and shiny, too. But it was a good patch job, at least until somebody could bring out a Titanium-A plate out here and seal over the area.
"That's a good job Maria." buzzed the comms in her ear, the voice was male. It belonged to her supervisor for the mission Mikel, another engineer working on the Space Elevator - although her watched from the safety of the maintainance station a fair few rings down the structure. "You fill that like a pro, like a chef icing a cake." She rolled her eyes, clinging onto the space elevator and turning herself back around again. The planet, New Hampshire, was above her head now. She looked at it, glistening blue waves, white clouds, green earth. Like an unspoilt Earth. A jewel of the Outer Colonies. It had grown rich on the Titanium-50 deposits found inside it, and the tourism of such a pristine planet. It was her job to keep that trade, and tourism, going. One of the most important jobs off planet, Mikel kept telling her (and himself). She was an every day hero. She didn't feel like it, often.
"Yeah, thanks. Hey listen, get me a pot of noodles on the stove I'm starving out here. I'll be home in.. Oh.. Twenty? Maybe less, I'm got some T-Pack left." She grabbed the plate in front of her and pushed herself towards the planet. It was a long way back down (it was going to be even further if she missed the Maintenance Hatch), so she pumped some of her T-Pack into it. She wouldn't use all of it, being caught out of here with no propulsion was literally a death sentence.
Her vision bloomed blue.
There was a crackling in her ear as a short EM surge hit the Tether. She pinged the station, "What was that? Mikel? Mikel!?"
She looked right and left, there was nothing in sight. She looked up. A split second later a deep purple beam of energy sliced right through the elevator. The beam bisected the structure, a good ten rings down. "Mikel!" she shouted down her comms. The elevator shifted awkwardly, it almost looked like it stumbled drunkenly. Explosions. The Tether cracked, fracturing down to the planet beneath. Rings broke free, colliding with each other and splintering glittering metal shrapnel into the lower orbit. It was beautiful, the sunlight glinting off those metal fragments - but so very terrifying. The ring beneath her shuddered, and like a cracking whip the Tether broke free of the stabilising ring, she screamed. Gripping tightly to the plate she found colliding with her, she was barreled into space.
Everything whirled, the planet, the sun, stars, the planet's moon - all flashed in and out of her vision as the ring span freely through space. She looked away, down to the metal in her hands. That didn't move. She felt sickness fill her body, her breath sped up, her chest heaved back and forth - she was panicking. The metal sheeting beneath her gave way as the ring cracked up, and she screamed again, this time she punched her T-Pack. Away, away from the wreckage of the elevator. She span through space, like a loose leaf in a thunderstorm. It took all of her focus to right her spin, to slam her T-Pack into action so she could get a clear view of the Tether - of... Where it used to be. Of the purple-plated ship, almost the same size as the structure. It moved away from her, making a line down for the atmosphere of the planet.
But Maria only floated, away. She watched, shock paralysing her body, as the ship shrunk in size. A light flashed up on her HUD, an image of her suit filled her screen for a handful of seconds. A section at the back flashed red, a connection pipe. Her oxygen. Her eyes blurred, but with no hands she could only blink away the tears. She had minutes left, seven? She whimpered over her comms, hopelessly, uselessly, "Please, help! This is Maria Kolikova, engineer on the Tether. I ne- I need help. Anybody, please... Please..."
Another purple shape filled her vision, and she looked left. Another Battle Cruiser, filling her vision completely, drifted idly past her. She could almost reach out to it.
Almost.
The UNSC Myriad drifted through space, moving gently away from the UNSC Colony Moldivia 2. A routine stop, they'd refueled with several UNSC ships, exchanged any crewmates that were due shore leave and received some much-needed replacements. The Myriad Battle-Group had suffered heavy losses at the Battle of Khatai 4. The Autumn-class Heavy Cruiser, UNSC Blacklight, has ben lost with all hands, the twin Carriers Dawn of Ages and Atlas had been crippled - they had to be dragged back for repairs. The Myriad's complement of Heavy Cruisers had taken serious damage too, many needing urgent repair. Myriad was largely alone, now. Flanked by the Valiant-class HC, UNSC Vesuvius and the two Autumn-class HCs Bareknuckles and Say It Again.
The Myriad herself had only received minor damage - compared to the size of the vessel. She'd been patched quickly, a couple of new scars on her hull but nothing a Warship wasn't used to. But with less than a quarter of her Battle-group operational she'd been relegated to Colonial Patrols. Outter-colonies, where she'd at least be useful as an intimidatory factor for elements both inside and outside of the UNSC.
Captain William Herrik was sat in his quarters, looking over a selection of the reports on the new crew that had been taken aboard. He had lost so many already, he might not remember their names or their faces, but he remembered their spirit. Everybody on the Myriad and its accompanying craft had signed up to defend the UNSC against all who would see her destruction. These new transfers had signed up with the same motive, and he liked to at least read over a couple of their stories. To connect to his crew somewhat. Remind himself who he fought with, and for. The monitor of his terminal beeped, a repetitive alarm followed by a flashing red light indicating an incoming video communication. He put his TACPAD down on his desk, let out a sigh and straightened himself. He pushed a button on his monitor, it lit up with the face of his XO, Henrik Bruyn. He was far younger than William, but he was a genius at the command of a battleship. His South African accent was thick, but William and the crew of the Myriad had grown used to it. "Sir, you should probably come down to the Bridge. Comms have picked up a relayed signal. It's a mess, but they're working on deciphering it now. Could be important."
William nodded, he was tired - from his eyes it was clear. It was technically 'night time' aboard the ship, and he was overdue sleep by... Lord how long had it been. He shook the thought from his head and rubbed his weary eyes. "I'll be right down, Henrik." he sighed. There was nothing kept between the CO and his XO, they had served together for years - they were practically best friends at this point. Henrik knew how much stress the Captain had been under since the Battle of Khatai 4.
"I'll have you a coffee waiting, sir. Syrup shot, of course." The South African smiled, and William cut out the comms as she rose from his chair. He stretched, he ached recently. He was 52. He was getting old. He rubbed down his uniform, sharpened himself up before the full mirror in his quarters and exited the room. He was a Captain of one of the biggest vessels in the UNSC Navy, it wouldn't do for him to look unprepared.
The bridge was abuzz with life by the time Herrik arrived, crewmen moved about in alarm. The Captain picked up his pace, his brisk walk taking him right to the holographic table in the center of the Bridge. Brigadier General Belrose was awake, the ex-ODST dominated the room with her presence and fiery red hair. "Captain." she said, giving her technically-superior officer a short salute, he gave her one back - as had become the custom between the two of them. She bore a higher rank than he, if one was to look at it objectively, but this was his ship. She was a passenger, albeit a high ranking officer of the UNSC Naval Special Warfare. It didn't escape her, and all formality was lost between the two as she crouched over the holotable. "We have deciphered the message."
Herrik looked around, there was somebody missing. "Where's Danel?" the Spaniard, commanding officer of the Marine Expeditionary Force on the ship, should be present for this meeting. Surely?
"He was here when the crewmen delivered the deciphered message. He has already gone off to rally his Marines to action." She said, and extended a hand to signal the opposite end of holotable. An order or a request, it mattered little. Politics aboard this ship were thrown aside when something so important as to immediately spring the aging Marine general into action was afoot. She slid her hand across an input pad, and the holotable begun to emit sound. The deciphered message - or what was left of it.
"This i- Colony New Hamburg. Under attack b-. Three-. ORS-. two CAS-class Ass-. Many more incoming. Repeat, need reinforcements. Under attack by Covenant Force." The General pressed down on the input pad, and the message ceased. She looked up to the Captain, a glare marring her face.
The Captain was equally scowling, a hand rose to his face, scratching his chin. He wouldn't have thought twice about assault a force like that with his full Battle-group, but his battered force could easily be... He stared down at the holotable before him, a small holographic figure, the A.I. Kalisa stood there looking at him. As if she judged him for what went through his head. No... No this was his job. The planet wasn't far away, his was one of the few UNSC vessels in the sector. This was his job. He spoke to the A.I, and the General, although he seemed to stare straight through the holographic woman dressed in officer's uniform. "Issue a sound to arms, I want everybody ready for a hot jump. Make course for New Hamburg." He paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be an easy fight. "Send out a signal to Moldivia 2, we need to relay this message to all UNSC vessels in neighbouring sectors. We may need their aid."
A siren sounded across the Myriad, all knew what it meant. A call to action. Alessia Virzi, a Corporal in the Myriad Shock Troop Battalion of ODSTs, was already awake when she heard it. Brigadier General Belrose spoke out over the comms in this section of the ship - commonly referd to as the Hellhole, for the ODSTs that stayed here. As Naval Special Warfare's Commanding Officer, the General was in command of the ODSTs and SPARTANs on the ship. These orders were for their ears only.
"ODSTs, SPARTANs! This is not a drill, all hands to Armouries. Prepare for Hot Jump!"
Alessia practically shot up, knocking over a chair in the Rec room she had been wasting away time in. Other ODSTs joined her in the frantic sprint to the Armouries. She had no idea where her Fireteam was, but they were most likely doing exactly as she was doing. She was strapping into her ODST BDU, and helping others into theirs. She grabbed for an M7S C-SMG, her assigned weapon, and an M319 Grenade Launcher, her favoured weapon. Keeping up the sprint she had managed out of the Rec, she ran for her Fireteam's Drop Room.
Fireteam Kraken was a new creation, well - a rebuilt one. The old Kraken had been lost aboard the UNSC Blacklight. They were filling deadmens boots, and the new Kraken hadn't even had a drop together. She'd spent some hours with the team, getting to know them, building relations - all that. She knew their nicknames well enough, JJ, Snowflake and their Sergeant, Rathorn. But she'd hardly talked to the lot out of that. They were all fresh transfers to the Myriad, Alessia was the only one who was currently assigned to the ship. Why this Rathorn had been given command of the fireteam and Alessia had been overlooked the position again was an issue she'd have to deal with later...
Her heavy boots stepped into the Drop Room, it was empty. Bar the four Drop Pods and their assorted equipment. "Where the fuck are they?" she spoke out, to nobody in particular, and rested her helmet on the table in the room. She moved to the pile of equipment she had hastily placed there earlier today. At least they'd had the foresight to gather all that before they'd parted ways. She reached down, picking up canisters of C-7, and moved to, her SOEIV. "Time for a drop Lucy." she said, patting the vehicle on the side as she loaded the C-7 into the Mag-Clips inside the pod.
At least with this much explosives in her pod, if she crashed out she'd go out in a bang.
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Post by GuardsGhost on Aug 25, 2015 17:31:52 GMT -5
Sergeant Dylan Rathorn was sitting down in his bunk, he had been informed by the system that he had incoming mail, and he had gone to check it. It was the usual checkups from his family, waves and smiles, his multiple siblings crowding in to say hello. Fairly typical news. His sister had gotten engaged to her boyfriend, his brothers were doing well in school. Yadda, yadda. But it brought a smile to his face all the same. His mother was starting to close the video, when she then paused. "Dylan..it's about your little brother...he's...well, he's decided to join up as well. So I was thinking if...well, when you get the time could you...maybe...talk to him? I'd appreciate it, and I think he would as well. Stay safe out there, Sergeant." She put emphasis on his new rank, and closed the message.
Dylan 's smile vanished at the news from his brother. He was quiet for a few moments, trying to think of something to say. 'Of course he did...now what should I tell him? He's going to need to know some shit...or...does he? Should I just let him sort it out his own way? He's not a kid anymore. Christ..it's been a while. Was supposed to visit them after Winter finished its rounds..'
That brought in unwanted memories, rushing into the forefront. A dark room, a light on the desk. All the stuff he'd seen in the retro-movies, and had never expected to actually happen. The figure in front of him, pacing in front of the desk. It had been a woman, he remembered her voice. "Lance Corporal Rathorn...served a tour in the outer colonies fighting against the insurrection, sole survivor of your initial unit. You performed well in the field. Led loyalist militia against the insurgents, and completed your objective. You were assigned to the UNSC Harsh Winter, to the elite 'Bravo Team' of ODST's that were assigned to it. Another case of miraculous survival. There seems to be a running theme with you and your fellows." "What do you want from me?" He had responded, unnerved. "I haven't done anything." "We understand that you are a survivor of the Winter Incident. I'd like you to tell me exactly what you saw on that ship, and I'd like you to explain to me how you think a warship of its caliber could have crashed... start from the beginning please."
The alert siren shook him out of his daydream, and he quickly grabbed at his sidearm from beneath his pillow. The message to his brother would have to wait. His fireteam needed him. There was a mission to get to.
He quickly bounded down the hallways of the ship, heading towards the armory to get into his combat gear. His helmet was still in his SOEIV, where he had always left it on every mission. He knew that much. His mind was already beginning to race as he sorted out all his gear. Weapons were in the SOEIV already.
He skipped past the weapons portion of the armory, heading over to his locker and opening it up to begin getting his battlegear on. It was stark black, like all ODST gear, but worn in places. The black fabric had faded to a dark grey color in places. On the breastplate however, newly painted Sergeant stripes stood out. He heaved out a sigh, and began strapping all his gear in. Then, he headed towards the pods. He head into Krakens section, and bellowed out for those still preparing. "Let's get moving Krakens! Strap in and prepare for a drop!" He stopped in front of his own, picking up his helmet and pulling it on. The green shamrock still there, though the paint was even more worn now. He then sat down and strapped himself in, pulling the harness down on top of his chest.
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Post by aardvarklord on Aug 25, 2015 18:18:39 GMT -5
"We are not painting the tank pink."
"What about neon green?"
"No."
"Neon green with pink flames?"
"Aren't you supposed to be fixing the gun?"
"I am." In fact, he was very nearly done, just needed to put a few more screws on and all would be good to go. Oh, sure, this wasn't actually JJ's job, it was the engineers' jobs, but they had enough problems getting the big-time repairs done to the ship, fighters, and other vehicles, and he himself had enough knowledge to do basic repairs. This Wasp wasn't even all that damaged; a few of the internal mechanisms got tweaked when something landed on it and forced the barrel down against the hydraulics, so all that really needed doing was replacing the parts. Heck, it still worked; this was just preventative maintenance. JJ could do that. He loved doing that sort of thing; it gave him something to do when he wasn't allowed to practice on the range or use dummy explosives to work on his speed. Plus, these Wasps were some kind of awesome. He wasn't quite as big on vehicles as he was on explosions, but if a starship drops from fifty thousand meters to forty-nine thousand you don't start evacuating the houses just yet. He loved these big honking slabs of metal.
Almost as much as he loved tweaking the crew's noses. "What about candy apple red?"
"No!" the British crew member protested in irritation.
"Dayglow orange?"
"NO!"
"Union Jack?"
"N--well..." the man paused to consider the option, and even though JJ was still in the tank, he could still clearly see the man putting a hand on his chin. Success!
At about that time he heard the boots of someone else coming near. Judging by the clopping he would have to guess that it was the tank commander, maybe even their lieutenant. Oooooooh boy this would either be really good, really bad, or a fun bit of humor before being sent off to toilet duty. Worth it.
"Alright, what's all the fuss about," the tank commander asked--at least it wasn't an officer about to tear into him this time.
"Hey Sarge, could we paint the tank with the Union Jack?" As the man asked that, JJ finished his work and started climbing out of the tank.
"WHAT?! Why would you ever want to do that?"
Then, as his conversation partner started speaking, JJ responded for him with a slender grin, "Pierce wouldn't shut up about it. He just kept going on and on about how he wanted to show his national spirit."
The tanker immediately looked back at his traitorous ODST friend with a look of pure fury before getting laid into by his commander. "Now listen here you dumbass! There's a very good reason we have camouflage on our tanks! IT'S TO HIDE OURSELVES FROM THE--wait a second..."
Well, he'd been made. The moment he saw that look of recognition on the sergeant's face JJ grinned and told him cheekily, "Had you for nine seconds." Hopping out of the tank, he headed over to give Pierce a pat on the shoulder, "No hard feelings right?"
"I will boil your balls in lead."
"Glad to hear it. Your tank's ready to go lads, До свидания." With that he started head off, hands behind his head as he looked at the top of the hangar in mock-thought, hoping to just let this whole lunacy slide on by. It rarely worked, but every now and again someone decided that he wasn't worth the trouble.
No such luck as the sergeant turned and snapped, "Oi! Get your ass back here!"
However, as JJ let out a frustrated sigh and turned to face them, resigning to his doom, a very different kind of death knell sounded in the form of an alarm claxon.
"ODST's, SPARTANs! This is not a drill, all hands to armouries. Prepare for hot jump!"
Eyes widening with a combination of anxiety and excitement, he turned quickly to the tankers and told them, "Maybe next time. I've got a job to do! (Unlike you lazy bums.)"
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
"Nothing sir."
As he booked it to the armoury to collect his equipment and get his butt into the ODST for his first ever combat hot jump. Was he scared? Ooooooh yeah. He was some kind of jittery, so much so that he actually didn't make any quips as he got changed and momentarily forgot where he put his gloves. However, once he was into his armor and put on his helmet, he felt a strange sort of calm wash over him. Whatever happened, he would have his favorite weapon with him, and he knew that if all else failed, his training would push him onward. It was an honor to be on the ODST's, and while he somewhat questioned whether or not he deserved in the sense of being the 'best of the best,' he was determined to live up to that legacy... and of course excited to get more chances to blow some fuzzy bums to kingdom come. Hey! That rhymed! He's a poet and he didn't even know it! He can make a rhyme any time! Once he had all things strapped on he started heading for the pods.
Then he passed a window and caught his reflection. It was only momentarily, though he saw the fresh-out-of-the-factory armor, its smooth ashen surface, the crisp golden stripes, the P1C stripes on his shoulder... but there was something missing. Oh! Of course! Reaching into one of his pouches, he pulled out one of his stickers and put it onto his his left forearm. There we go! Much better.
A short run later and he was at the SOEIV, not far behind Sergeant Rathorn as he rushed to get all of his weapons strapped on. He'd noticed earlier that there were two sets of explosives, the other belonging Corporal Virzi, so he had gone ahead and swapped out his usual M363 RPL with a good old M41 rocket launcher, but otherwise got a lot of the same explosives; demo charges, C7, M9's, grenades for his M301. Oh! Speaking of which! "Hello beautiful..." he muttered as he picked up his darling assault rifle, carrying her into the SOEIV and loaded up. Carol was very obviously marked as his, namely from the same hazard button on the stock that he'd just slapped onto his armor. Getting into his seat, he let out a few nervous chuckles and smacked his thighs in a quick drumbeat. "Okay... I'm ready to roll... you ready to roll? I'm ready to roll. Phew..." Taking a deep breath, he cracked his neck and looked up at Alessia across the way from him (at least he was pretty certain that was her). "Well, between the two of us, we should be able to blow up a cruiser. Yup. We got this. We sooooooooo got this." His internal thoughts: OH GOD WE DON'T GOT THIS!
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Post by Zelus on Aug 27, 2015 8:32:30 GMT -5
Well there it was. The call to arms ran out across the ship. Snowflake, as he’d been called, began his ritual of preparing for the fight. He did so by grinning like an idiot, and bouncing out of bed. He’d basically just been lying there bored out of his mind. Occasionally tossing and turning. He would’ve gone off for a sprint around the ship, but he didn’t want to get stuck on one end of the vessel, if crap did go down. Not to mention, he imagined some of the higher-ups might’ve had something to say about that.
“Oh finally.” They’d kept him waiting far too long…whoever ‘they’ were. Still hardly panicked, or frantic like many others around him, he moved quickly. He looked excited for the chance to do something instead of sitting around on the ship in patrol. So now he was racing through the halls in the direction of the armoury. He hadn’t noticed his team mates, but he assumed they’d be there shorty-if not before him.
He was proved right as he stumbled into the armoury, after sliding across the floor. He’d made it in time to see Alessia running out of the room. It was only then that he realised he hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes. His sock slid him across the surface of the floor before he quickly made his way inside the armour and went over to rack that held his weapons. There wasn’t really unique about his stuff. M7S submachine gun, the workhorse of the ODSTs, next he pulled out his M6S, which he promptly kissed on the barrel, before heading out after Alessia. On the way over to his locker he grabbed two canisters of C7 foaming, ‘cause he knew he’d need it… probably.
Giving a chance to look over at his ‘boss’ as he walked over to his locker. Pulling it open, Elric stripped down. He found his helmet staring back at him with it’s blue visor. “Time to get a move on.” He chuckled bonking the helmet on the top, as he reach down and started pulling on the under layer of his armour. Once that was on he quickly pulled the rest of his armour on and attached his guns to the relative places. His armour looking quite a bit lighter than the other suits felt like it too. Back when he wore the standard he always complained about the lack of mobility. Though granted it wasn’t really a lot. Still this armour allowed him to sprint and climb a hell of a lot faster than he did in the old suit. Plus it had a built in active camo device. His helmet stayed off, he filled it with the C7 canisters and then headed off into the drop pod room.
Once inside the drop pod room, he shoved the canisters in the holder within the drop pod itself, before taking off his guns and doing the same. Quickly he shoved on his helmet and turned carefully to make sure it was on properly. You could never be too sure about that sort of thing. Speaking of which…
Elric suddenly vanished from the room as he activated his stealth device by pressing a discrete button on his bracers. “Yep. All good ‘n’ ready,” Elric stated to himself. He turned the device off again before hopping up into the chair on his pod. He then reached up and pulled down the harness over his chest, exactly like the others. Elric bounced a bit excitedly in the seat. “Were any of you guys getting bored waiting around? Because I sure was.” He smirked with relief. “Gonna get a piece of action…” He beamed, doing his final checks.
With a look over at the Sergeant. “Ready to drop… How long are we gonna have to wait until we get thrown down like God’s fist?”
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ThreeDawg
Administrator
Voice of the Wastes
Posts: 1,219
Likes: 33
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Post by ThreeDawg on Sept 2, 2015 6:23:04 GMT -5
Virzi slapped the last of her explosives into the Pod and begun to fiddle with getting her weapons locked in too. She looked over at JJ, in the complete opposite pod to her. He was third to arrive and first to actually jump in a pod, he must've moved about like his pants were on fire. Which given the amount of explosives he carried with him might actually be a possibility... He looked hyped, though, the way he banged his legs about. "Yeah, JJ." She'd not really spoken much to him since he arrived on the Myriad, but at least she knew they could bond over the Artful Masterpiece that was Explosive Ordnance. "Don't worry 'bout it. We got enough explosives between us to knock out several cruisers."
She paused, punching in her M7S and pickingup her helmet. The slight reflection of her face caught her a moment, this was who she was. An ODST. Unsung Heroes of the UNSC. She looked to the others in Kraken, JJ who gave off an air of nervousness, Rathorn who didn't at all talk too much - and Snowflake, who stood out from the rest with his special fancy-shmancy Myriad Armoury gear. For a brief moment he flickered out of vision, she strained to see him - or rather the gentle ripple of light around the edges of his form. Like water. Sure these lot were roughly thrown together to fill empty boots, but that didn't mean they couldn't become the best damn ODST Squad in the Myriad Fleet with a bit of practice. She smiled as Snowflake came back into sight, she put her own helmet on. Locked it into place. There was a subtle 'woosh' as the vacuum-seal closed. To think in a few minutes she'd have nothing but the air in her suit and the air in her pod to breath. Worst case scenario she gets knocked massively off-course and slides into an orbit around the planet. Well... Thirty minutes is enough for pickup, surely.
Virzi slid into the seat and pulled down her harness. "Yup," She continued, "we'll just need to cause the first cruiser to crash into the second - then it's just a game of dominos followed by a lot less Brutes stinking up our Galaxy. Am I right, Sarge?"
The UNSC Myriad cut through Slipspace cleanly, it's accompanyment of three Heavy Cruisers breaking out just behind it. This was a Hot Jump, so they expected the Covenant vessels crowding around the planet. It wouldn't be the first time the Myriad had come out of slipspace and practically rammed a Covenant ship out of orbit. There was no ramming to be had today, the Covenant ships were clustered just out of range of a clean MAC hit. Captain Herrik stood still, bent over the very same holotable as the ship's A.I. updated it with real-time battle information. Most of it was gleaned from sensors, but he imagined a good minority was already coming from the Covenant Battlenet. How many years had the so-called 'Technologically Superior' Covenant been in contact with the UNSC now, and they still couldn't figure out a way to solidly stop UNSC A.I. from skimming the surface of its communications network.
The purple-coloured holographic ships that represented various classes of Covenant Cruiser seperated. A large majority of them continued the path towards the planet that they had started on, including both of the massive Assault Carriers. The Myriad really had no idea what to expect from the jumbled message, but Captain Herrik was glad there was no sign of a Supercarrier. Those rare and elusive Covenant Behemoths truly had no match amongst the UNSC, luckily they were (as far as NavSpec knew) out of production. It seems the Covenant, or even the Concordat, couldn't pull out the resources to produce one of those planet-busters.
But it was truly odd that they didn't turn to face the Myriad. Running to ground wasn't something to expect from a Covenant Fleet - running away, perhaps - because the Myriad could easilly engage Covenant ships in orbit as good as it could in the void of space. So why jump straight into deploying ground forces when they had one of the UNSCs finest bareing down upon them... The A.I. Kalisa seemed to speak out for them, "They must want something... On the surface. I'll try to figure out what."
"In the mean time," spoke out Captain Herrik, "Let's get these Covenant Dogs off our Lawn."
The Myriad opened fire, the entire vessel shuddering as its two frontal MACs cut clean through one of the Covenant's rearguard.
The UNSC cut clean through the four covenant cruisers that had been sent against them. The MACs dealt heavy blows, and Myriad's own Energy Projectors made short work of Covenant shielding. It only took their accompanying Heavy Cruisers a couple of their own barrages to deliver the finishing blow to already crippled vessels. It was barely a warm up for the Myriad, but it was but a dint in the Covenant's numbers. More than four times that number had escaped towards the planet, including all of the Covenant's heavy hitters. Even from here, the red-blue colour of Energy Projectors burning through atmosphere could be seen on the planet. They were tactical strikes, they were trying to cripple the planet's defense.
The Myriad slid into Orbit.
"The Covenant have already landed a number of their forces, prepare all ODSTs for Insertion. Kalisa, relay targets where appropriate." The Myriad was cutting a line high above the planet, ready to drop ODSTs in number across various fronts. Stem the tide of Covenant forces, make way for Pelican-bound reinforcements. A number of SPARTANs were pegged to drop with them, their own fireteams were being prepped for strikes into the hearts of enemy positions - even right into cruisers themselves.
The sergeants and corporals in command of the ODSTs hung out in their pods in the bowels of the Myriad were relayed their instructions. Rathorn recieved his, flashing up on the face of his HUD, clear font, clear orders: Aid in clearing Covenant Anti-Air units around the city of Treva for Marine deployment.
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Post by GuardsGhost on Sept 2, 2015 13:53:47 GMT -5
Rathorn had been holding off on the banter that was going on between his squadmates, though he did pipe up when he was addressed. "That's right Corporal. I hope you got all your shit together Krakens, because we are not turning this drop around because one of you forgot to grab your lucky charm."
The other two members of Kraken Combat team soon blipped to life in their pods as well, and Rathorn nodded to himself. "Nice of you two to show up. Hope you didn't miss your cups of coffee, or whatever took you so long to get strapped in."
He then fell silent to read over their orders, simultaneously checking over himself and his pod to make sure all his shit was ready to go. He then stretched to scratch that itch in his armor that he knew he wouldn't be able to itch again until they sat down on the ground at some point. When the orders were finished being relayed to his pod, he cleared his throat. "Alright Krakens, listen up. We've been given a job-" 'A shitty one. If they didn't get this deployment right..best not to think about it.' "We're going in fast, hot, and hard. Feet first as per norm. We're going to be landing in the city of Treva, so watch for potential Civvies. The Covvies are crawling over the surface of the planet, and we're going to give them a headache. We'll be taking out their AA positions so the other jarheads can ride in nice and cozy in their pelicans. Strap in, shoot a prayer to whatever the hell you believe in, and get ready to kill some alien sons-of-bitches."
He then spoke up once more as the clock appeared on his pods free viewing screen., "Combat drop on my mark!" 'Ten...nine...eight.. 'He could already feel the sweat drops beginning to form on his brow as memories of another drop came to the forefront of his mind. The panicked flight ODST's made from the Winter. The spinning of his pod.'Seven...six...five' His eyes closed for a moment, and then opened once more. The feeling of being shaken around like some toy in a giants hand as he pierced the atmosphere of Reach. 'Four..three..two..' The crash into the dirt, and the struggle to get out of the pod. His hand tightened around the pods release system.
'One..' "Mark! We have a greenlight! Let's go!" He then pulled on the release system, and all at once the pods of the Myriad's ODST complement shot out from the hull of the ship. "Release the Kraken!" Rathorn commented over the communications between his teams pods, not really expecting a return one.
As the pods spiraled towards the planet, and began to pierce the atmosphere they would be engulfed in flames. Rathorn's eyes went wide, and he just barely managed to maintain his breathing as the pod shook him about. However...he couldn't help the grin that split open his face. He quickly brought up a hand and tapped the clover painted on the side of his helmet. He had a front row seat to watching the dozens of other pods shooting down on the backdrop of space, with the planet representing the ground. He felt the same momentary sense of wonder at the sight, which was quickly broken by a scream over Kraken's communication systems. Rathorn's head jerked to the side, and through his viewport he could see one of the latecomers pods veer out of the target range, and begin to crack apart as the flames broke through. "Private Palo?!" "He's gone Sergeant!" That was the other Krakens voice, Marks. The man was green, and his voice was filled with panic. "Shit-shit-shit-shit!" The new recruit was chanting over the comms.
"Stow it Marks!" Rathorn cut in, harshly perhaps, but it silenced the other man. "Deploy your chutes now!" He pulled it, and the pods chute opened up as they went soaring to the ground.
Rathorn's eyes closed one last time, and he mentally swore at himself over Palo.
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His pod slammed into the concrete, shaking him once more like a rag doll. He pushed the release on the door, and came charging out with his primary weapon, alert and focused as he scanned the environment around him. His HUD showed him the locations of his fellows pods. They had all landed relatively nearby, thanks to the accuracy of the initial drop coordinates and the lack of slipspace ruptures messing everything up.
He had landed in the street, out in the open. 'Not good..' He moved away from his pod and into the shelter offered by the towering structures in Treva city. "Alright Krakens, sound off." He whispered into his helmets communication system, still scanning the area.
Marks was silent, and it was only then that he realized the man hadn't moved from his pod. "If someone is near Marks' location, go get me confirmation on his status. Double time it."
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Post by aardvarklord on Sept 2, 2015 18:38:54 GMT -5
JJ laughed nervously at Virzi's comment, a slight smile creasing his face at the image of them knocking down a Covvie cruiser flashing through his mind. Oh, it wasn't likely to happen. At least not any time soon. But the idea brightened his spirits and he let himself fantasize briefly at the thought of planting a charge on a ship's power core and flying away on a Banshee or Phantom like the ultimate badass he wished he could be. Anything to bolster his confidence really. The dominos thing was particularly amusing, so much so that his mind was flashing back to a great scene involving zeppelins in one of his favorite shows. "Hell, if they've got a bigger ship, just go bowling with the thing. Starship slice, mothafuckas!" He rather frantically went about double-checking his equipment, actually crossing himself as he muttered, "Spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch..." while checking for none of those things but instead that he was sealed and all of his ordinance was aboard. Well he'd have to be pretty worried if he was missing his testicles. Actually, come to think of it, that one shot came uncomfortably close back in the day to taking off his--
What? BOREDOM?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT SNOWFLAKE?! ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?!! YOU ARE ON ONE OF THE BIGGEST SHIPS IN THE UNSC FRESH OUT OF A FIGHT! YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING TO DO! Fortunately, JJ wasn't able to gather his thoughts quick enough and was distracted by the absolutely awesome display that was the corporal's fancy stealth armor long enough for the sergeant to talk, but he was already stewing in his seat... though maybe that was just the hundreds of thousands of meters below them where they'd have to drop through the thermosphere into a place so teeming with aliens that you'd swear they were landing on an anthill. Hrmm... he should learn to speak the language. What was it called anyways? Sangheilin? Covenantian? Alienese? He'd look it up later. Still, he had to admit, bizarre comment aside, that armor was just absolutely mesmerizing. After his fourth check that he'd successfully locked himself into his seat, he said blithely at the corporal (even though he couldn't see him) in his best/worst offensively bad Scottish(?)-Irish(?)-Welsh(?)-ish accent thing, "Besides. Only borin' people get bored, and if ye want a piece of ass ye'd best chase it yerself, aye? *Cough* Ugh... why do I even bother with that voice?"
Eventually things went silent and the door closed, leaving JJ alone with his thoughts... his rampaging, anxious, mind-bendingly hyperactive thoughts. A thousand potential worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind as the pod was swung into position, to the point that he was even afraid of the clamp mechanism coming loose and jamming his shoot... even though that had only happened something like once in every hundred thousand drops or something like that? Not even that bad. He couldn't help it though! AA fire, debris, 'air' traffic, mechanical malfunctions... it was all so intimidating. However, once Rathorn's voice came up and began relating their orders to him, he stopped and took a long, deep breath, and gripped the control sticks of the pod for comfort. Hold it together, JJ. Not that much different from Pelican travel; in fact statistically he was pretty sure these drop pods were safer... assuming the AA guns couldn't get a bead on them. Of course, they were being told to take down the AA guns, so... six of one half a dozen of the other. Still, it was a straight-forward mission and it was just the sort of assignment he was hoping for... as far as objectives go anyways. Blowing up some big old Covvie artillery? What more could he ask for as a virgin mission?
He didn't bother with a prayer, he just quietly tried to meditate on the sounds of the pod, listen to the machinery creaking and note every little detail about it... though he didn't get very far. Sure he'd done a practice drop before, but he was still getting used to it, so all of the creaks, bleeps, sweeps, and creeps were mostly new to him. Still, it was interesting for him to notice that the creaking of the clamp wasn't entirely rhythmic, but rather that it seemed to be swinging more like a pendulum. Huh... he'd always thought the clamps were horizontal hinges. "Combat drop on my mark!" Oh! Well! This was it. Time to find out what this was like and have his very first taste of real hot-drop combat. His hands tensed on the controls and his brow pooled with sweat, taking several deep breaths as he tried to calm his fidgeting nerves. He was already counting down with the sergeant in his head. Yup... release... then the majesty of space... then the horror of reentry... then rhinoceros buttsex via your seat cushion on landing.
"Mark! We have a greenlight!..." Before the man even got to 'let's go' JJ yanked his release and he was on his way along with the rest of their absurdly enormous fleet of pods. He felt a rush of exhilaration as they plummeted towards the planet below, something which was just about the only other reason he was still happy with the ODST job, beyond the prospect of explosives work, but then he got an unexpected surprise in the form of Rathorn's comment. Laughing sharply over the squad's comm., he responded with a quick, "It is time for the mortals to pay!"
And then came the seemingly endless descent towards the planet. Honestly it wasn't the height that bothered him, in fact in the initial parts of the drop he loved the scenery, soaking it in for the brief amount of time he could... though the giant purple dildo ships certainly spoiled it a little. It wasn't even the speeds, because he had a basic understanding of the science of how the pods worked; he wasn't an engineer by any stretch but he knew that it was designed to code and all that. No, what bothered him more than anything was the sight of the flames streaking around the ship. No matter what, he couldn't help but feel like something was going wrong even though in his head he knew there wasn't. Relying on his deep breaths to keep himself under control, he was at least able to keep focused as they descended.
And then the scream shook his eardrums and out of the corner of his eye he saw Palo's pod disintegrated. "блядь!" he swore, eyes wide with horror at the sight. Sweet Jesus! There wasn't even anything that Palo could do about it! JJ couldn't even work up the brainpower to say anything, he was just stunned into silence. Before he could get too worked up, Rathorn snapped at Marks' own freak-out, which got JJ sober enough to focus and respond to the chute release command in kind. His gut leaped into his stomach, and as they began their final descent JJ's eyes closed and he began frantically praying to a God he didn't believe in.
JJ's landing had been a little odd; he didn't land directly on concrete, but rather he wound up with the ass end of a bus crumpled beneath him, slightly tilting the pod on its side once it came to rest. Didn't do much to cushion or intensify the landing though. Coughing at the shock of the impact, it took him a little extra time to catch his bearings, slightly dazed and disorien... disorient... disorientated... disoriented. After ten seconds or so he remembered his job and snapped out of it, smacking the hatch release and clambering out of the pod with Carol in hand. Quickly he checked his surroundings, happy to see that he had the good fortune to land in a small parking lot. Not exactly safe from snipers, but at least he wasn't hanging his ass out in the open. After a quick scan of the buildings, he judged himself reasonably safe and grabbed the rest of his stuff, grunting at the weight of the rocket launcher before heading for more secure building cover, darting between cars for safety's sake.
The sound-off command earned a quick, "Hazard here, I'm good." Though... that did remind him to check his HUD for others' locations. He'd wound up on the outer edge of the group from the looks of it; the rest of Kraken was more or less in the same direction away from him. Well, at least he wasn't spoiled for choice. The comment about Marks had him slightly alarmed though; he hadn't noticed the lack of movement until he checked if he was close enough to arrive first (he wasn't), but now that he saw it he was definitely far from overflowing with confidence. Instinctively his thoughts briefly turned towards the sky, the numerous streaks of entering drop pods still filling the world above... and of course one of the pods that hadn't made it down. "When I said I was willing to go out in a blaze of glory, I meant it metaphorically goddammit!" he muttered with a slight hint of panic. He signed up for this, sure, but he was putting his faith in the damn engineers! What the hell had happened to poor Palo?! Was it a defective pod? Or did he do something wrong? Shaking it off as best he could (or as little really), he continued in the direction towards Marks' pod, though he wagered he'd run into another Kraken or, if he was particularly unlucky, xenos beforehand.
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Post by Zelus on Sept 4, 2015 8:02:39 GMT -5
“Should be careful what you say, guy. I might take such advice to heart… Who knows it might be your ass I chase.” Elric called to the side, giving a smirk towards the man he couldn’t see. It was, of course, heard in his tone though. Rathorn gave his orders, and Elric listened intently. Taking out AA positions didn’t sound too bad, sounded relatively easy. A morning jog, he supposed. It wasn’t as if they were being sent directly into a Covenant stronghold, or something literally infested with aliens. Still, they had occupied a human city, which was enough. He was excited to be on the ground again. Whilst he enjoyed being able to travel between planets, Elric was most definitely a land mammal… or at the very least, an atmosphere mammal. The talk of jarheads made Elric chuckle, though he envied them. Jumping out of a pelican sounded like fun. Hell, piloting one sounded like a blast. Though, Elric knew he probably shouldn’t ever be trusted to be behind the wheel of something expensive. He barely knew how to drive a car, let alone something huge with weapons. He’d put a number of scratches on his ex-husband’s Genet Class four-five… whatever it was. Either way, he was never allowed to drive the thing again after the third scratch. For a moment, whilst sat there in his pod, he wondered what happened to the junked up thing. The timer to drop snapped him back to attention, trailing his hands over the arm rests. He gripped the hands and let a shiver run down the length of his spine. It was really happening! It’d be awesome. Elric bounced in his seat. “Come on, come on, come on. Let’s do this.” He grinned, waiting impatiently for the timer to go down. “Yes!” Elric shouted as he was told to go, quickly reaching up and pulling the release. Suddenly he was jettisoned from the Myriad, fired directly down at the city below on the planet’s surface. As he launched he heard Rathorn deliver something of an incredibly cheesy line, something that made Elric laugh loudly, though only to himself. He had a feeling that would be their motto from now on. Now in the vacuum of space, essentially only separated from it by a reinforced glass cover, Elric could see just what was going on in the space around them. The light from the sun covered Elric’s cockpit, and whilst bright it didn’t necessarily shield his vision. Knowing he had the engineers to thank for that, he looked around at the various events before him. He could make out the various drop pods being dragged down to the planet. A few of them were ahead of him, for various reasons he imagined. Still he saw them light up like flares or shooting stars. He imagined it would look awesome from the surface. Over the comms, Elric heard of events outside of his field of vision. "Huh? What?” He asked, listening to the panicked conversation. He grimaced at the loss of one of their men. Though… it happened, it was the nature of their job and it could be over in an instant. With a brief sigh, Elric reached up to touch the chute controls. By now he was heading through the atmosphere, his eyes darting between the pods he could see. Rathorn’s voice came on the comms and they were told to deploy their chutes. Elric waited all of a second before smacking the button and then he pulled his shoot. Immediately he felt his inside lurch somewhat as the Chutes opened up catching him. Immediately he was slowed dramatically. ----- “Welp, I may have a problem.” Elric’s voice came over the comms as he sat there in his pod. His eyes scanned the view in front of him. “Uh… yeah I’m gonna need assistance. I… What are the chances of this happening?” Elric grimaced as he looked at the scratches against the glass, reaching forward and pushing a bit at it. Using a torch he held it against the glass. Yeup, that was a bloody wall. Unfortunately for Elric, his pod had landed screen first against a wall. He could see sunlight filtering through the crack in gap between the wall and the screen. “I uh… how does this even…” He spoke, utterly confused at the situation. He was nearby mostly everyone, he could see that on the HUD, but he couldn’t actually leave his pod. It was obvious that he was on the ground, but beyond that he wasn’t entirely sure where he was. It was likely he was the open, though pressed up close to a building like butter on bread. Internally he began to figure out a way of freeing himself. Perhaps if he ejected the screen he could perhaps use his legs to push he pod back… then again, like most pods, it was crumpled into the ground somewhat, so un-lodging it from its anchor would prove difficult. Perhaps they could use explosives to blow the wall out. Would he be protected? The least he could do is get the screen off. So that’s what he did, unlocking and pulling the release, he opened up the pod. The air of the planet filled the ‘cockpit’ and Elric grinned broadly. Everything was good for a moment. It was good to breathe actual fresh air. “I can’t make it to Mark, though he’s close by… you’re really gonna have to see this to believe it.” He told over the comms with humour, though there was a hint of seriousness in his voice. He knew he’d be screwed if one of the Covs decided to grab the pod. For now however he had to wait for assistance, ‘cause he surely wasn’t going to be able to move the thing, not on his own anyway.
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ThreeDawg
Administrator
Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Sept 6, 2015 15:28:47 GMT -5
" Wooooooohooooooo~" Virzi whooped out as she pulled the release on her pod. She'd done this enough times to know that if she was going to survive, she was going to survive. There was no point in fretting about the capabilitiy of your pod to make it down, either way you were strapped in and you were going down! Best enjoy the ride, was what she thought, even as she was launched from orbit like a giant metal-and-flesh bullet towards the surface below. " Lets show these Covenant S-O-Bs what happens when you don't ask before vacationing on our colonies!"
The Myriad released several dozens of its ODSTs in short bursts. Kraken was amongst the first, they were lucky. The Covenant wasn't expecting them, they'd get down with few casualties from AA fire. As the Myriad slid across the empty expanse of space, it bid a final fairwell to the ODSTs it had left behind. The next ODST drop went almost as well, but Covenant anti-air had begun tracking the enormous vessel. A dog-fight had broken out around the UNSC vessel, as the pilots of the Myriad rattled their Sabres against the Covenants own interceptors. The third drop suffered losses before they even broke atmosphere.
But for Virzi, Virzi's mood had been soured by the fireball that was atmospheric entry. As Kraken lost its first member, Virzi was sombre and quiet as their Sergeant calmed the frantic Marks. " It's what we all train for... We all know it's a risk." She spoke up, although she bore a frown for the rest of the journey through the upper atmosphere. Her words were true, while SOEIVs had gotten far better from their first integration into the UNSC fleets, they were not infallible. User error, dodgy old SOEIVs, orbital collision with minute debris or just plain shit-luck still caused countless casualties. The ODST corps were a revolving door for new recruits... Her finger was already on the trigger for her chute when Rathorn called out. This was far from her first rodeo. The chute opened without a hitch, her descent slowing to some-what safe levels. Her hands tensed around the controls that allowed her limited movement of the vehicle. " Oh shit!" she shouted out, a red light flashing up on her HUD. Two words sprang up in her vision, her eyes widened, she yanked on the stick. 'Collision Imminent' A towerblock, she didn't have time to register what it was - offices, a shopping center, housing, sprung into her view. " Shit shit shit!" Her vision blacked out at the shattering impact of the SOEIV against the metal superstructure. Like the bullet it was, the vehicle punched a hole clean into the building. There was a sickening scratching noise, which was all Virzi could really comprehend in her current state. She opened her eyes, her pod was face-up, she could see a cieling, and a bit of glass on the other side of the room. How high was she? "Where-... What?" Her comms finally sparked to life. " Virzi sounding off," she replied to her summons, " I've hit a minor hitch, but I'm good. I can still get out of my pod." She switched off the comms for her pod, and opened up the channel built into her suit. She punched the release, and the front of her SOEIV shot off across the room, there was the frantic ruffling of papers and some heavy crunches as the door crushed whatever was in its way. Virzi practically jumped out of the pod, shaking herself down as she did. She didn't waste time in grabbing her guns, followed quickly by attaching the quipment to various clips on her armour. " I'm a walking bomb," she idly mused, giggling gently to herself, " I'm a... What were they called... Bombshell?" She wandered over to the glass wall she had seen from her pod, " Something like that...". She was quite high, a good fifteen stories, maybe. She clicked a button on her inner wrist, her eyes flickered to the map that had manifested itself on her VISR. " Thank God for intel." With another press of a button, this time on her helmet, she opened up the comm with her squad. It was abuzz with life, something about Marks' not moving. Which she could see on her three-dimensional map of the city. Snowflake had landed himself in a rough patch, at least JJ and Rathorn were up and moving. " So I'm quite high up, but-" She almost plastered her face against the window in front of her. In the distance she could see the Covenant artillery being set up, she could even see the slight glint of purple shapes flitting behind buildings, running through streets. She could definitely hear the gunfire, and plasma fire, from here. But... Yeah... " Yeah I see Snowflake's pod from here. It's not that far, but I'm gonna have to make a pretty long descent to get to him." She looked back at the dark room she had landed in, power seemed to have gone out here. " I don't think the elevators are gonna be working, so I'm on stairs. I'll see how fast I can get there, but it might be best if somebody else beat me to you - sorry Snowflake." Virzi whirled around from the window, her VISR illuminating the room for her. The wreckage of her SOEIV stood out as a clear blue in stark contrast to the white outline of everything else in her augmented vision. She wandered over to it, and reached inside the opening. " Yeah..." she mused idly to herself, with her comms shut off to her team. Something came loose in her hand after a sharp tug, so sharp it almost sent her flying backwards. It was large, almost the width of her helmet. And it was heavy. A large block, a clip on one side and a clip on the other. A descent rope. " Yeah this'll do..." She stalked out of the room, submachine gun in hand. |
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Post by GuardsGhost on Oct 17, 2015 20:02:34 GMT -5
[[ Very sorry for the wait]]
As he listened to his team sound off, he nearly banged his helmeted head into the wall. They had only just dropped in, and already they were scattered about and stuck all over the place. "Right..go quiet for now Krakens. Virzi, focus on getting Snowflake. JJ, I'm coming for you. When we get Marks, I'll set us up with a rally point. When I set the point, home in with your own communication systems and make it there. Stick together you two, and good luck."
He turned on the H.U.D for his helmet, and then stepped out from around the corner. He didn't necessarily like being in the open, but to get to Marks in time he might have to be. "And JJ, make sure you examine the situation at Marks' pod before you go rushing in." He left the reasoning unsaid, though it was obvious. If the Covenant were on Marks...well, the man was dead. There was very little they could do but continue on the mission unaided.
He then clicked off his communication system, going silent for the time being.
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As JJ approached Marks' pod, if he was wary he would hear the chattering voices of Grunts communicating amongst themselves. They sounded close, and Marks' pod was just around the bend from him. But if they had gotten there first, Marks was probably dead, and there may be little cover for him.
On the other hand, if he stayed there and the Grunts had yet to discover Marks, they may come across him and then the man would die if he was alive. He'd have very little time to make a decision.
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