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Post by GuardsGhost on Nov 29, 2013 23:24:49 GMT -5
The sergeant had been in the process of responding to Aidans question with a, "Getting a ticket to sit around with our thumbs up our asses" but immediately slid into a perfect example of a salute, and then an even more crisp attention when Rico appeared. He saluted again when Rico addressed him regarding the sensor arrays, and managed to hide the eye twitch that almost grew from the knowledge that he was serving under -another- Spartan.
He kept silent though, mildly curious about the infinity. He had been in the Corp too long to be surprised by much at this point however.
The Spartan officer exchanged glances with his AI, then crossed his arms. "I'm afraid until we reach the station, that info is classified."
"As you say sir, but we -will- be let in on the big secret once we get there, right?"
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ShockHelix
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Deity of Death
No mercy for the weak. No pity for the dying. No tears for the slain.
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Post by ShockHelix on Jan 3, 2014 22:32:31 GMT -5
((OOC: Alright, since Stag has requested to be skipped, you're up Zen.))
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Post by Zenios on Jan 4, 2014 23:14:48 GMT -5
((I suppose I'd like to request to be skipped as well then c: Can't think of anything in character to post that isn't grossly insubordinate))
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ShockHelix
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Deity of Death
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Post by ShockHelix on Jan 6, 2014 20:44:20 GMT -5
"SPARTAN Allenson, Lucy, sir. I have one question, if I am allowed to voice it. Do you have freedom to disclose why the UNSC Myriad is coming to analyse this anomoly, in lieu of a Corvette, Frigate or even a Cruiser, sir?"
John exchanged glances with his A.I., wondering what Minerva would say if he actually told them. He wasn't too worried about any of them leaking the information back home, and Minerva gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was thinking, did not approve. He instinctually crossed his arms in defense, and went along with his A.I. She looked exactly like his sister with that face frowning at him, and it reminded him when they used to argue and fight, before the training. Those were good times.
"I'm afraid until we reach the station, that info is classified."
"As you say sir, but we -will- be let in on the big secret once we get there, right?"
He was glad two of them were bold enough to speak up, even if the other marines were quiet for the moment. Hopefully he'd be able to steer them away from being too formal, other their extended stay in Redoubt would be a nightmare for him. "Of course, Sergeant. You'll be guarding it, after all. Suffice to say that after the Requiem incident involving the Infinity, the brass isn't willing to take any unnecessary risks." It was as blatant as he could be without getting a proverbial tongue lashing from Minerva later, and a look at her face said she might do it anyway.
"That's enough for now. Load up. We can talk more when we get back," he said, putting his helmet back on and moving back towards the warthog. "Right now, we need to get Sergeant Fitzpatrick to take a look at that array." It had gone unchecked for too long since it began malfunctioning, and John had a bad feeling about the whole thing that he just couldn't shake.
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ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Jan 10, 2014 15:22:08 GMT -5
"That's enough for now. Load up. We can talk more when we get back. Right now, we need to get Sergeant Fitzpatrick to take a look at that array."
Allenson looked over at Fitzpatrick, the man didn't look all that tech-savy by his gruff demeanor and the roughness to his features. For a moment she wondered if it would be better for her and Sonya to take a look at it, but decided to allow the man a chance to prove himself. As much as she knew he wouldn't care so much about proving himself.
"I call shotgun." she called out, before anyone else had the chance. She lifted the helm of her MJOLNIR suit to her head, pushing it over her hair without so much as causing a single strand to fall out of place. The precision was impressive, a motion perfectly practiced over many years of military service. Gauntleted hands grabbed the cases she had brought with her and she moved over to the Warthog, the vehicle was well kept it seemed, as if John had methodically cleaned it. She imagined not out of pride or hobby, but instead out of the motonous boring of being alone on this world. She could think of herself doing such things, at least.
Without so much as a grunt she hefted the cases up into the bed of the Warthog. The Marines would have to squeeze in around them, but there was more than enough room for supplies and a full complement. The vehicles were designed for such. She went around the side of the vehicle, claiming her seat next to the driver's side. She would have drove herself, but she didn't quite feel it was her place to drive a track she hadn't been before.
She shuffled her weapons into place on her back. The iridescant greeny-blue of her Plasma Repeater stood out against the typical grey of the UNSC, something she'd always quite liked. Not only was the weapon incredibly versatile in combat, in her opinion, but it was something unique. A spark of colour in a drab UNSC world. It made up for the complexity in maintenance, and the weird looks she got from her fellows.
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Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
Posts: 1,055
Likes: 4
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Post by Salvahkiin on Jan 13, 2014 18:10:39 GMT -5
((Please skip me, I have no idea what to do with Matilda.))
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Post by GuardsGhost on Jan 14, 2014 14:48:34 GMT -5
"That's enough for now. Load up. We can talk more when we get back. Right now, we need to get Sergeant Fitzpatrick to take a look at that array."
Fitzpatrick saluted, "Right you are Spartan. I'll get on it."
The Sergeant then turned to the Marines and waved them forward onto the transport hogs. His mouth twitched in distaste as the Spartan called shotgun, and a few of the newer marines' eyes went wide. No one ever took Sarges' shotgun. But, wisely enough, the Sergeant chose to ignore it, instead focusing his energy on getting the greenies onto the hogs, and leaving his own squad to their devices. "Come on you green little shits! I wanna get a look at the array -before- the Covenant returns if it makes you all happy!" He barked, pulling himself into the back of the hog and cramming himself into some of the precious space.
The greenies looked mildly terrified of the man, though anyone would recognize that it was mostly bluster and the Sergeant genuinely just wanted to get to the task on hand. Soon enough, the marines had gotten into a conversation about brothers, sisters, wives, sweethearts, mothers, fathers...etc. Fitzpatrick chimed in briefly, creating a bit of a lull in the conversation with his rather frank and disturbing reply. "My family is all of you green shits. I suppose that makes me the biggest of the shits 'round here." His teeth showed themselves in a grin, and only then was it judged safe to laugh by some of the newer Marines.
"Where are you from anyways Sarge?"
"Ah, a little ol' place called 'Earth' Private Pilo. It's a nice place and all, being the cradle of humanity and what not and where you all trace your worthless genetic heritage from." The whole time however, the Sergeant was scanning their new surroundings. Immersing himself with the facility and the territory, getting a good idea of where the most likely landing zone would be for an enemy. The usual.
As one of the mans favorite flip songs said, 'There ain't no rest for the wicked'. And no man was more wicked than Sergeant Fitzpatrick in the eyes of those unfortunate enough to fail in their duty to the Corp.
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Post by Zenios on Jan 23, 2014 21:35:28 GMT -5
Aidan glanced at Sergeant Fitzpatrick when the female Spartan--Lacey Allison, if he remembered properly--called shotgun. He'd been around Sarge long enough to know that he vastly preferred shotgun, and that probably didn't sit well with him. Oh well; the good sergeant could sit in the back with Aidan and the kids today. He'd probably survive, but the greenhorns might not. At least things would be interesting that way.
So Aidan clambered into the Warthog himself, surprised to find it was a bit of a tight fit. The presence of the storage containers in the middle didn't help much, but at least there was enough room enough to fit the Marines and Spartans too. Of course, Fitzpatrick's presence was bound to shake things up a bit. And as if right on cue, Fitzpatrick dropped a line about being a big shit or something. One of the rookies replied asking where he was from, and the answer was--almost unsurprisingly--equally demeaning.
The weapons specialist gave a little bit of a grin at that. He was a fair bit older than most of these privates; hell, he was probably old enough to be the father of at least one fresh-out-of-boot enlistee. Fitzpatrick didn't intimidate him quite so much. "Go easy on the kids, why don'tcha, Sarge?" he said, clearly meaning to lighten the mood a little bit even if he knew Fitzpatrick had no intention of listening to him. "No sense scarin' too much piss out of 'em before their first engagement."
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ShockHelix
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Deity of Death
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Post by ShockHelix on Jan 25, 2014 9:45:13 GMT -5
John ignored the early banter between the marines as he started the warthog, though it was a bit amusing that the new spartan called shotgun. Maybe if the rest of them were social enough, they would all leave him alone. His AI Minerva however, seemed to have other ideas.
"Ah, a little ol' place called 'Earth' Private Pilo. It's a nice place and all, being the cradle of humanity and what not and where you all trace your worthless genetic heritage from."
"Go easy on the kids, why don'tcha, Sarge? No sense scarin' too much piss out of 'em before their first engagement."
Minerva appeared projected between the marines, as though she were standing on top of one of the crates. In her standard style Spartan armor, with a helmet in one hand and the other on her hip.
"Actually Sergeant, the human races 'worthless genetic heritage' has defeated the forces of nine other species, over the course of over a thousand other engagements, and saved the collective lives on the entire intelligent populations of the galaxy," Minerva said with a projected grin.
"Then again Sergeant.... I suppose you're right. I certainly wouldn't rest the fate of mankind on these.... Maggots."
Minerva's projection disappeared as she left the privates frowning, pleased that she'd leveled the playing field. John resolved that he needed to have a talk with her as well. Fraternizing with the marines would not end well, he had a feeling.
The warthog bounced up the forested path to Outpost Alpha, splashing water as it passed through a creek bed and leaving a trail of dust behind it as it scattered gravel. The forest was unusually silent, but John assumed that was just do to him driving faster then usual. He had decided against giving his new command a comfortable ride. After the Sergeant fixed the sensor array, maybe he'd run them through the war games and see just what he had to work with when the Purphorous operation inevitably went to hell. There was a bad feeling in his gut that he just couldn't shake.
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ThreeDawg
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Post by ThreeDawg on Jan 26, 2014 15:37:46 GMT -5
The first thing Lucy did when John got the Hog started was pull out her tacpad. She tried to load up a live-feed satelite image of the outpost and the forests around it. To her surprise the dreaded 'This service is not available, please seek assistence from an outpost technician.' appeared. She contemplated handing it back to Fitzpatrick, since he was the designated technician for this trip, but he was busy talking to the Marines. So she'd wait patiently, assuming the live-feed was also down due to the communications outage.
The trees whirred past them as they weaved the Warthog down forest path. One hand kept a hold on the hog, bracing her for the impacts of the path ahead. She contented herself in watching the passing trees, she had forgotten the beauty of nature in the time aboard various naval vessels, space stations and other outposts in more inhospitable regions of space. She watched birds flutter by, strange shapes and colours of this alien world. It was remarkable life had flourished in this place, given the tidal-locked nature of its orbit around the sun. Evolution really couldn't be stopped, God had done well to create it.
She turned to look at John, who seemed to be staying quiet even while his A.I. talked for him. He was to be the only other SPARTAN she would be stationed with, no doubt it'd be him more than the others that had her back in combat. It would be good to get to know him more, but he didn't seem to want to talk much. In fact his eyes hardly came off the track ahead, even as she looked at him.
She went back to the road ahead, contenting herself with watching the trees, stones and occasional wildlife whizz passed them. The conversations in the back of the warthog were another pleasent distraction from the ride. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long to the outpost.
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Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
Posts: 1,055
Likes: 4
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Post by Salvahkiin on Jan 29, 2014 0:12:45 GMT -5
((I'm sorry again, but please skip me))
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Post by GuardsGhost on Feb 3, 2014 19:32:06 GMT -5
Sergeant Fitzpatrick chuckled at Aidan's request, and nodded once. He cocked an eyebrow, glancing around the warthog. "I suppose the kids will learn quickly enough eh?" No sooner had he finished the word when there was an AI in the back of the Warthog, speaking to them all in that tone of voice AI's tended to have.
The marines of course, smiled in relief at some support as the AI said how their 'worthless heritage' saved Humankind. Smiles which were immediately wiped out upon her scolding remark over there quality. The AI's harsh comment brought Fitzpatrick to a fit of rough chuckling. He slapped the side of the warthog, and then spat over it.
"You heard the lady Marines! She doesn't think any of you are good enough to save the Earth. Best get to proving her wrong. If you can't make -her- happy, how are you ever going to get a kiss from your girls back home eh?" He snickered, shaking his head.
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Post by Zenios on Mar 7, 2014 20:54:24 GMT -5
[GOD DAMN IT YOU PEOPLE ARE STUBBORN JESUS CHRIST I APOLOGIZE FOR THE BREVITY AND/OR QUALITY OF THIS POST BUT I'M TIRED OF HOLDING THIS GOD DAMN THREAD UP UGH]
Aidan's ride wasn't exactly a comfortable one, but he'd been through worse. He felt bad for the recruits in particular, degraded as they were by pretty much everyone else. Maybe not enough to actually stand up for them, seeing as hazing and verbal abuse were integral parts of any new recruit's initiation to the brotherhood of soldiery, but certainly enough to feel some sympathy. He did have to admit, though, the AI was pretty good at getting the newbies' spirits up before bringing them brutally low.
He'd have to watch out for that; it might interrupt his demeanor a little bit if the grizzled old veteran was caught giggling at some joke like a schoolgirl. Laid-back or no, he had to at least try to set an example for these kids, and girly giggles at insults delivered by artificial intelligences weren't the best way to do that. Aidan just grinned and shook his head, his gaze drifting a bit. Listening to these kids get torn up by Fitzpatrick, the Spartans, and the AI reminded him a little of when he'd first entered the Corps just shy of twenty years ago. Way back when he'd been the guy getting his ass verbally handed to him.
Damn, he was getting old; he was probably almost old enough to be these recruits' dad. And while he may not have been very successful as a husband or a father, he could probably manage as a role model. Maybe not the ideal one, between the smoking and casual-at-best demeanor in most situations, but he could at least serve as a steadying veteran presence if the shit hit the fan. Aidan had always been good at that much.
"Are we there yet?"
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ShockHelix
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Deity of Death
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Post by ShockHelix on May 28, 2014 15:48:20 GMT -5
“Are we there yet?”
John held back a sigh at the sheer ridiculousness of the question. A twenty minute ride as not enough in his eyes to warrant enough boredom for this. Especially since at the rate he was driving, he'd likely shave off a couple minutes. Silently, John wished he hadn't given them all freedom to speak. He only hoped the question was rhetorical, and ignored it to the best of his ability. The marines brought back all the memories of why he'd soured so much since his time aboard the UNSC Guardian. And as they crested the hill, he began to remember why he'd accepted his fate at Redoubt.
The road's steep incline ended and leveled out into a steady rise up towards the cliff phase where outpost alpha was situated. The first thing that came across the sky was a large satellite dish, raising into the sky well above the cliff face over the tops of the trees. As the warthog drew closer, the base itself could be seen in a clearing, built directly into the side of the overhead cliff. The stark white of the base blended well into the limestone of the rock wall, with 'Monitoring Outpost A” emblazoned on the side in red. Aside from the obvious military markings and vehicles positioned at it's front, the outpost looked more akin to a vacation home then a military outpost.
On it's right side, a balcony hung over the curve in the cliff, towering above the trees below as the ever present sunset loomed on the horizon. The facility itself seemed to have as many windows as walls, and the garden in front was carefully maintained with off-world fauna. The building itself was bereft of any point defense guns or other emplacements, exclusively a monitoring station and in no means intended to be a defendable position. Atop one of the roofs jutting from the cliff flew the UNSC Flag, as well as the flag of Redoubt in red and white.
John slowed the transport hog as they neared the structure, pulling up next to the other vehicles present and the garage entrance, shutting the hog off and stepping out. “Welcome to Outpost Alpha.”
Minerva projected herself from the front entrance in her full spartan attire as usual, though this time the projection was life size. John pointed at the AI as he walked towards the base, expecting the others to grab their gear and follow along. “Minerva will show you around while I log your arrival. I'll be in my office if you have any questions.”
The Spartan pulled his helmet off as he walked inside, leaving the AI's hologram to give them all their introduction to the facility. “If you would please all follow me to the briefing room, I will give each of you the pertinent details to your assignment here at Outpost Alpha.”
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ThreeDawg
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Post by ThreeDawg on Jun 2, 2014 12:16:45 GMT -5
"Welcome to Outpost Alpha."
Allenson let out an approving whistle as the Warthog pulled up to the outpost. It's clean white surfaces were completely unexpected, how far UNSC technology has come with these new outposts from the older prefabs on the Inner Colonies. "I'd like to retire to a place like this too, sir." she said to the SPARTAN Rico, "Could use a waterfall though."
They pulled up alongside a number of other Warthogs, and what looked like a Grackle. Lucy was surprised they even shipped those old things this far out of UNSC space. At least their new outpost looked like the lap of luxury, she hoped her quarters had a good view of that sunset.
As instructed, the Marines and Allenson unloaded the Hog. Allenson carried both of her cases, her MJOLNIR helm bouncing between her hip and the maintenance case in her hand. The AI Minerva shined to life before them, her hologram form decked out like a SPARTAN. That was a shock at first, she'd never seen an AI that had chosen to appear as a SPARTAN before.
"If you'd please all follow me to the briefing room." The AI began, as as she finished her shifting form began to walk towards the entrance of the Outpost. Yet SPARTAN Rico seemed to disappear to do his own thing, Allenson noticed. The doors opened before her as if she was truly corporeal and the assorted troops milled in behind her. Her form shifted down the corridors towards the briefing room, the thick metal door opening up again at her will. The room they all entered was wide and, clearly, important. Everyone could fit comfortably inside and a large table sat in the middle. It bore a few chairs, but not enough for everyone to sit down and not enough to cover every place at the table. It seemed more than a couple had been requisitioned for other parts of the outpost.
"Now then, Marines, SPARTAN. I would like to welcome you again to Redoubt Monitoring Outpost Alpha." As she spoke a hologram of the outpost extended itself from the interior metal portion of the largely wooden table. It seemed hollow, and as she rang out the location of the important rooms in the outpost they lit up clearly in the 3D blueprint of the outpost. The garage, that they had seen from the outside, was located just down the hall behind them. In close proximity to that was the small Infirmary and the Armoury. On the second story of the outpost was Communications Control, General Maintenance and the small Mess Hall. The third story housed the occupants' quarters and small recreational and exercise facilities. There was a noticeable lack of weapons platforms or automated defences.
Next, Minerva moved onto the more pressing details of staff assignments. "Now you are all fully acquainted with the outpost's layout. Fireteam August, your mission here is simple: to provide enhanced garrison for the Monitoring Outpost, to respond to any anomalous behaviour monitored on this section of the planet and to provide support for the other UNSCDF stationed upon Redoubt should they need it. Sergeant Fitzpatrick you are also tasked with maintenance duties - where I am unable to do so myself. I believe you already know the communications system is experiencing an unexplained fault?" She turned then to Allenson - "SPARTAN Allenson you will be assisting Fireteam August as part of Alpha Squad, alongside SPARTAN Rico. Your records show you are an Armoured Vehicle pilot, both ground and air. I'm sure everyone will be glad to have a well trained pair of hands in the cockpit."
Lucy responded with a smile and a nod not only as a response to the AI, but as reassurance to the marines before her. "You're safe in my hands, Marines. Is that all Minerva?"
The AI nodded her agreement, "That is all. You are free to explore the outpost at your leisure. Security clearance has already been granted for each of you. Welcome to Redoubt."
Allenson found herself wandering up to what had been assigned her quarters. It had a large plexiglass wall overlooking the woodlands, and a near perfect view of the permanent sunset. Her room was equipped with an automated MJOLNIR removal station. "A room fit for a SPARTAN." She mumbled to herself, "This place seems too perfect. It's like a retirement home."
Her gloves hand pressed against the thick glass separating her from the outside world, down at the Warthogs bathed red in the eternal dawn . "Or a really fancy prison..." The SPARTAN turned, approached the MJOLNIR removal station and stood in between its extended arms. The whirring of power drills filled her too-spacious living quarters.
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