Futuristic Halo: Operation SHATTERED SKY (IC - CLOSED)

[NamelessTrax]

Dax nodded in response to Black’s order, even once off the Pelican, he’d stayed close to the Sergeant and Black. Heading towards the CP, he made an assessment of the Corporal’s condition, examining the marine as Black conversed with the other Officers.

Initial assessment was the obvious, possible head trauma with lacerations causing bloody bandages. “Make you a deal, Corporal, tell me how you ruined this pretty head and we’ll see what we can do.” He replied half sarcastically, a tone he couldn’t help. He made a sideways glance at Sticks, unsure how to really respond to such a question, knowing their real objective.

((Interactions: Viper Actual Darth ))

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray screamed excitedly with the terror of combat flight.

"YEEEEE HAWWW!!!!"

He rocked as the ship spun around and gave him a clear view of grunts getting splattered. Out of all the UNSC's support, Falcons were his favorite. The pilot wasn't the only one having fun. The ship touched down and Ray stepped off, touching the side of the Bloodpan on the way out, particularly the serial number, as an old sign of good luck. He jumped down boots first, letting his weight ring out over sound of gunfire.

Ray's rifle was now in his hands, and he was scanning rooftops for snipers. While their uniforms and experiences were different, Ray could always determine the usual "In the shit" look, and these guys had it. Even though Ray had been through as much, if not more, his clean gear left him somewhat out. Made him feel like a rookie. A part of him wanted to roll around in the mud to dinge up his gear, but he knew that he'd have his shot.

He turned to his little semi circle with Tremell and Bassett, covered his mic, and opened his visor. He gave a grin that didn't reach his eyes and spoke softly, "Fucking called it bro."

He then clicked on his mic and tuned into the long range, "Minuteman to Baseplate, please advise we are on the ground." He then switched again, leaving the main channel open, and opened one with the AWACS in the AO. "Minuteman to Darkstar, please patch me into AWACS."

Viper Actual
Solar Daddy

 

[0stinato]

While it had been Lyster’s intention to shadow Johansen, with all the gentle encouragements of an orca playing with its pathetic prey, Grey was putting other plans in place. He was to be paired with King in instances of split-off, was he? And Johansen was to fade into the amalgamation of new blood under Black’s command, was he? Well, fine. Lyster wasn’t about to request one way or the other. It wasn’t his operation. Besides, as Grey mentioned his pairing with King had gone well last time. King’s whooping and cheering while he drove the truck assured Lyster he’d be fun to die with, if it came to it.

That did mean though, that he’d have to get his kicks with Johansen while he had the time. He’d stuck near Johansen as they alighted from the Pelican, very near, even ending up standing behind him to his left while awaiting instructions. Johansen needed an extra push, so Lyster was going to give it to him. After all, if Black was relying on those who even Grey referred to as ‘the kids,’ then they had to be at optimal performance before that point. In any other scenario, Lyster’s conduct would be highly questionable but here, warped by the promise of the greater good and unit teamwork, he could do whatever he wanted. He could mistreat Johansen within an inch of his sanity, and the young man could still turn up one day, salute him, and thank him for the invaluable lessons he’d imparted in the haze of gunfire and confusion. Alternatively, the young man could die before using a single thing Lyster was prepared to drill into him, but such was the sadness of it: Lyster could waste his effort and breath for nothing. A true tragedy of spirit. Grin-worthy. The entire thing was grin-worthy. He’d be happy to die mid-joke, back-to-back with King while surrounded, and all he’d be able to do is grin about it. Every ounce of effort Lyster had put in, every modicum of work his superiors had made him do, it’d all be lost in a moment there.

Lyster voiced nothing until it came to giving an affirmative to Grey, after which he tilted his head towards King, the visor catching a sheath of light as he did so, ‘Let’s hope it’ll only be blue blood staining my chest this time, if it comes to it. Still a good shot last time, but red’s not my colour. Besides, it scared a few of ‘em on the way here,’ he said, jutting his head towards ‘the kids’ with the last phrase. That was an excuse to give Johansen his full attention, if only for a few seconds. He raised his hand, heavy with reinforced breacher armour plates, and let it fall hard onto Johansen’s shoulder. As he did so, he leaned down towards Johansen, completely destroying any concept of the personal bubble.

‘Tell me,’ his voice affected a rare, smooth tone half way between sighing and singing, ‘which colour blood have you seen more of, soldier? Red or blue?’

--
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[Viper Actual]

Innovation Plaza

“Make you a deal, Corporal, tell me how you ruined this pretty head and we’ll see what we can do.”

"Yeah?" The soldier smiled briefly but it looked more like a grimace. "Damn Covies started spewing plasma all over our LZ when we first touched down. I was lucky to duck when I did but, y'know, I could've been faster."

The corporal's smile faded. "At least I didn't end up like the guy next to me... Fuckin' hell..."

Frowning, the corporal placed one hand over the bandage and shook his head. "We better make it out of here. My fiancée will kill me if I don't make it back home to Cascade."

"Minuteman to Baseplate, please advise we are on the ground."

There was a brief moment of silence until a crackle echoed over the main channel. "Baseplate here, I read you Minuteman!" Replied a chipper voice. Voices, likely from others inside the military structure used to house the command staff, could be heard in the background as well as loudspeaker announcements from the Verent City Spaceport in which the UNSC forces had fortified themselves in.

"Minuteman to Darkstar, please patch me into AWACS."

Unlike Baseplate the voice of Darkstar's communications operator was dark and smooth. "Darkstar here, I read you Lima-Charlie Minuteman. What can I do for you, over?"

The operator leaned back in his chair and switched focus to another monitor, nodding to one of the other operators inside the cramped but well-equipped compartment. Unknown to most but a select few the special AWAC's Pelican was cruising high above friendly lines, staying out of reach from nosy Covenant scout parties through a combination of stealth coating, cloud-cover and short untraceable transmissions.

‘Tell me,’ his voice affected a rare, smooth tone half way between sighing and singing, ‘which colour blood have you seen more of, soldier? Red or blue?’

Johansen tried his best to ignore the chatter between Lyster and King. He even turned away slightly in an attempt to focus on something else entirely. Despite his best efforts the couldn't mute or block out the words coming from the SRG ODST and when he inclined towards Johansen and his squadmates the junior ODST immediately focus onto him.

When Lyster continued by approaching him Johansen went stiff and did nothing to resist the hand that was placed on his shoulder. Shielded by an opaque visor Johansen's panicked expression was not visible to anyone else. His body language however spoke volumes, eventually catching the ire Wendell who stepped in.

Facing Lyster, the second ODST- transparent visor, aggressive expression and all- placed himself between Johansen and Lyster, facing the latter. "How about you ask that to someone who's just as damaged as you, Sarge. Or is that not as enjoyable?"

By now Hayworth was observing as well, looking increasingly nervous as his eyes darted between everyone involved. He glanced at King in a sort of pleading "Please do something"-fashion.

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* * *
​

Verent City's School of Applied Technical Sciences - E-Building
Approx. 1 Km from Innovation Plaza

As far as combat camera specialists were Pvt. Barnes wasn't the most skilled nor the brightest one. In fact, he'd already spent two years of his once promising UNSC career racking up disciplinary charges alongside immediate unit transfers. Truth is, he wasn't even cut to be Marine in the first place. But that was beside the point now that the UEG was mustering all its power to defend itself against the Covenant.

Barnes, however, didn't care much for politics. Not even when they were related to his future survival. If he had the wits, money and contacts he'd drop off the radar and hide from the Covenant. Already there were stories and rumors of entire colonies hiding in plain sight, hoping to survive the Covenant's relentless onslaught.

Unfortunately for the UNSC Barnes however was stuck with them and they stuck with him, his bad manners, his ability to yap all day long and his lack of a filter during conversations. That being said, even with the Covenant raising hell on Verent there were still stuff to laugh about or find enjoyment. Like this idiot for example.

"That looks great, Corporal." Barnes grinned and zoomed in on his camera. "Really great angle."

One of the ODSTs- Corporal Zagama- looked up over her shoulder. Even with the visor completely opaque Barnes could tell she was pissed. The good corporal was currently down on all four trying to collect precious bullets that had been spilled all over the floor when an ammo crate tipped over. "Very funny Barnes," Zagama said. "I hope your prank was worth it because this booty right here is the last one you'll ever see."

"Oh I doubt that," replied Barnes, still grinning. A large pair of hands suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him up, causing him to squeal. Looking over his shoulder Barnes spotted the resident ordnance specialist towering over him.

"This isn't what it seems?" Barnes said aloud, half-asking.

"Yeah?" The ODST leaned in. "Your camera or your ribs, which one is it gonna be?" Asked Corporal Halvarsson, still towering over Barnes in a menacing fashion.

Barnes raised a finger. "Hold that though for a moment," he said, looking around. The three of them were near the windows on the second story of the SATS's E-building inside a large lecturing hall. From their vantage point they could overlook the streets below which were the outermost UNSC perimeter. Aside from them there were other ODSTs, Marines and even a couple of Verent Militia members holed up either inside the same room or on other places inside the building.

Reinforcements were reportedly on their way but that hadn't stopped Barnes from taking some extra shots of the troops- not that they appreciated being harassed by an idiot with a camera.

Spotting the person he was looking for, Barnes waved at Jackie with his one free hand. "Help?"

GhastlySquash

* * *
​

Optican - Product Development Branch
Approx. 3 Km from Innovation Plaza

Hastily fortified with sofas, tables, chairs and other office furniture the relatively narrow entrance leading into Optican's Product Development Branch building had steadily transformed into a well-defended location over the course of several hours. Even so, a quick and decisive assault could easily overpower or simply outgun the defenders within. Clad in heavy SWAT-gear with either full-face helmets or tactical glasses there were a total of five officers either crouching or standing behind cover with two more farther back watching an emergency exit that could easily be turned into a flanking route.

These officers however were no ordinary beat-cops but rather members of the Verent City Constabulary's elite Tactical Response Unit. Having worked, trained, bled, cried and even died together had forged a deep bond between all members of the team and at this point they were practically family.

Outside the building entrance stood not one but two heavy-duty emergency police vehicles as well as a commandeered civilian truck and sitting in a neat pile right behind the lobby team were stacks of military-grade medical supplies destined for wounded soldiers currently fending off the Covenant forces.

Unfortunately the supposed quick supply run to Optican had gone from good to catastrophic after a platoon of Covenant soldiers decided to reinforce the building across the street for use as a command post- assuming they actually had those and didn't just claim random empty buildings as their own.

Ace, Cesar's second in command, sighed and shook his head. His MA5B drooped a bit as he glanced towards his sergeant. "I say we take our chances and make a run for it."

"Yeah? What about the supplies?" Whispered Gizmo who was crouched on the opposite side of the lobby with a blood-stained shotgun in his hands. "The soldiers need them. Bad."

"Too bad," said Ace. "We might be able to get some of it out but not everything. At least not without support," said Ace in a hushed voice.

The two other officers- Torch and Limbo- remained silent, merely glancing between their two squadmates and then at Cesar in anticipation for a response. Meanwhile Slick and Domino remained silent over SQUADCOM as the two of them continued to watch over the emergency exit.

Calibutcher

 

[GhastlySquash]

Jackie Larson had one thing going for her as a combat camera specialist: she was not Barnes. Although she wasn't as noisy as Barnes, Jackie made up for it by being easily distracted by whatever MRE was being distributed, who was getting what, what gossip was there, and her own self-proclaimed "reality documentary". Very few even dared to consider what that meant. Still, she was a Marine, even if a bit of a greenhorn.

Her current focus for today was the MRE Menu 34: Sandwich. It was one of the few times that she could really hone in on the home away from home aspect. Her career so far had been documenting the death and total destruction of Verent and it felt like there was no end in sight. Still, there were plenty of moments to shine on the UEG's defense. They were holding out, even with limited support.

"Just another delectable and complimentary meal from the UNSC, let's see what's inside!" But before Jackie could continue, she heard the familiar squeal of Barnes being lifted up and rushed to see what the trouble was this time.

"Help?" Barnes asked. Even if she was a greenhorn, Jackie wasn't entirely aloof to Barne's antics. Her partner was constantly causing trouble, and while some of his jokes were exceptionally unique and profound, it was rarely welcomed by the more...veteran members of this particular group.

"Uh-oh uh...Corporal Zangama, Pvt. Larson reporting, I just wanted to apologize on behalf of Pvt. Barnes! I'm sure whatever he did was meant with no animosity uh...sir! Ma'am! Uh, and he won't do it again!"

On one end, Jackie was obligated save her friend from getting crushed. But on the other end, did he have to piss of the ODSTs? Barnes might as well have jumped into a den of lions.

Hopefully, her meager apology would grant Barnes yet another few hours of life.

After all, she needed Barnes alive for other reasons. The loudmouth was a free source of information. ONI Section II had a clear purpose: propaganda. With the Covenant, it was a challenge to build up morale. And so, agents like Jackie were being embedded within the ranks of the UNSC to ensure that morale remained burning in the hearts and minds of every soldier, pilot, or ODST.

It certainly wasn't easy. The current rumor of colonies hiding in plain sight or the allure of defecting and going off the grid were constantly coming up. Of course, Jackie inserted a few rumors of her own. It paid to be a rookie. Everything she said was second hand from someone else, and of course being a greenhorn meant that she barely remembered who it was that said it. So of course, with every temptation came the rumor of consequence. Defecting might get you off the planet, but if you didn't know the right contact, you could end up being stranded and without a dime to your name. And that was the best outlook. And then there was the rumors of hope. Reinforcements. Support. If they were still here, still holding out, rescue and relief was coming.

Agent Larson was fighting an uphill battle, but hopefully it wouldn't be for much longer.

Viper Actual

 

[Calibutcher]

Cesar glowered out the window for a few moments as his team discussed the predicament they now sat in. Covies were running all over the city, but to set up across the street from him? Lady luck, Santa Maria, or whoever weighed the scales was not looking favorably upon him at this moment. The Optican building had at least been what it was promised to be. The medical supplies they sought were here in abundance.

He leaned against the wall and adjusted the sling for his rifle. He tilted his head back until it tapped against the wall. He could feel the eyes peering at him. Probing at his mind as he did the same. He only let himself idle there for a few precious seconds. He stood from the wall in a sudden jolt of energy. “No, our objective is clear. We need to get what we can.” Cesar slid his hand down and grabbed his rifle. Reflexively it found its place propped against his shoulder. “Even so we might not be able to grab everything.”

He peeked into the street again finalizing a plan in his mind. “Slick, Domino.” He addressed the two on Com as he turned back towards his group. “You boys push around the building and find a good spot to start engaging.” He pointed to the rest of his men. “You lot, will come with me and load up as much as we can while they distract the Covies. As soon as things get too hot get the vehicles running and we pick up Slick and Domino on the way out.” Again he paused slightly eyeing his men but finished with a simple statement. “Orah?”

 

[Worthlessplebian]

After their commanding officers had completed their little game of matchmaking several loons (King including himself in that descriptor), they promptly pointed the peons positively in the direction of their objective and sodded off. King seemed to have acquired a natural predilection towards operating with the professionals, Grey and Lyster. Though specifically with the two-ton shotgunner that threatens to bore holes in civvies as well as Covvies. King unenthusiastically entertained the idea of Lyster being an ONI Agent in the making, before shutting down the idea entirely with the objection that it needs a certain element of finesse and subtlety. "He'd be an excellent fall guy—" Foisting his stray thoughts from brain to audial. His gaze engulfed itself with the others, mainly to see if they noticed what he said but also because curiosity had gotten the best of him.

This scene eerily reminded of a crashed train-Or, or a car that spun out of control at 300 kilometres per hour then trapezing itself off a walkway and finally whipping itself around the beam with the gracefulness of a slimy snake. Ah, memories. Moments of felicity aside, King thought it would be a prudent product of his making to rein in this savage beast. As much as King wished to entertain the pink balloon's cynicism, the job must be done. Shadowing (like his job description) to Lyster's side, the ONI spook slapped the back of his helmet. "Muzzle the attitude, Lyster. If you want to harass something, I can find you a live grunt later."

King shared a glance between his (in)subordinate squadmates. "Alright, people. We're losing-" King surveyed the area, then spoke again. "Pick your resource. Time, ammo, non-perishable resources, meat and whatever else. Chatter, minimum. Dead Covenant, maximum."

Viper Actual 0stinato NamelessTrax SpazTheButcher

 

[SpazTheButcher]

There was a brief moment of silence until a crackle echoed over the main channel. "Baseplate here, I read you Minuteman!" Replied a chipper voice. Voices, likely from others inside the military structure used to house the command staff, could be heard in the background as well as loudspeaker announcements from the Verent City Spaceport in which the UNSC forces had fortified themselves in.

Switching to long range, Ray thanked the operator. "Good to hear you Baseplate. Establishing comms. Be ready, and keep the ships fueled, we may need some help in a pinch."

Unlike Baseplate the voice of Darkstar's communications operator was dark and smooth. "Darkstar here, I read you Lima-Charlie Minuteman. What can I do for you, over?"

Switching channels like a man switching lanes, "Darkstar, requesting picture on bandits and chicks, known dogboxes, and any marked AAA positions."

King shared a glance between his (in)subordinate squadmates. "Alright, people. We're losing-" King surveyed the area, then spoke again. "Pick your resource. Time, ammo, non-perishable resources, meat and whatever else. Chatter, minimum. Dead Covenant, maximum."

He did all this while listening to King's orders. "I don't need nothing, sir. Already ate my breakfast." He then checked his uplink as data began being sent. Bits and pieces, not yet a full picture. "Hoss, I'm getting intel from AWACS. My estimates put ships on station in 20 minutes max, 5 minimum. Looks like the University is still holding strong, resistance minimal. We could probably requisition some hogs can cars from the locals. Worst case we use CAS to give us some breathing room. I am also seeing possible contacts 4 clicks from here, a couple of cops. We could pick 'em up, use them for perimeter guards or to secure captured territory."

 

[DrabberRogue]

The sniper's visor was still tilted upwards, surveying the surrounding cityscape, when he heard his name carried on Agent Grey's voice. Already back in quiet operator mode, Jace only offered an opaque-visor look and a thumbs up by way of acknowledgement. Behind that visor was a confident smile but, well, even ONI spooks couldn't see through a one-way screen. At least as far as he was allowed to know.

Practicing what he felt was a marginally adequate level of caution, Jace briefly glanced back up at the building he'd been scrutinizing, eyes scanning the dark room behind a particular window. He even reached a hand up to the side of his helmet, squinting his eyes as he flicked on his VISR night vision for a moment. Satisfied that the surrounding vantage points were clear, he allowed his gaze to once more fall on those around him. First back onto Grey in case she'd missed his response, then a curious look at the partly mechanical spook, before settling on the commotion Sergeant Lyster was stirring up. Way to shake up the greenhorn, and thirty minutes at most before they'd likely see combat again... Jace hoped the poor guy wouldn't panic under fire, he didn't seem to have much of a stomach for the consequences.

Then again, neither had Jace when he first started.

Only a slight tilt of the helmet indicated the lance corporal had noticed King talking to himself. It prompted the reflexive raise of a brow and a hidden, sidelong look, but Jace didn't think too much of it. Just a spook being spooky, although he did kind of wonder at who the subject was. That train of thought didn't last long, however, as the mysterious agent went about whipping the squad back into order. The marksman straightened his posture, looking directly at the speaker, but otherwise his orders were clear – chatter, minimum.

The JTAC's remark got a smirk out of him though. Luckily not even ONI spooks could see through a one-way screen.

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[Solar Daddy]

He turned to his little semi circle with Tremell and Bassett, covered his mic, and opened his visor. He gave a grin that didn't reach his eyes and spoke softly, "Fucking called it bro."

Bassett gave an amused smile to Person, who Owen was sure had a few screws loose. Still, as a man of extreme enthusiasm to kill shit, Owen was happy to have him on his side. In response, he gave his signature surfer wave, before hiking his rifle back into his hand in a casual carry.

Bassett gave a glance to their surroundings. Even here, where the UNSC had managed to hold their ground and keeps things secure, occasional splatters of plasma scoring, explosives residue and chipped building exteriors littered the place. This wasn't the first time Owen had endured a planetary invasion, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last. But there was always a pang of sadness that washed over Owen, seeing all the commons or the apartment complexes vacant of life, enduring silent brutality from a hostile force. Did they care to even know why some of these buildings were constructed? Did the Covenant even have plazas? Bassett cared the same for Covenant "civilians" and culture in the same way they seemed to care about his. He'd willingly invade their worlds and scorch their battered and broken citizens if it meant payback, or at least a lesson in how much ass the UNSC can kick. Before the war was over, he would be on the lookout for a Sangheili skull or a Jackal spine to mount on his wall. Hell, maybe he could taxidermy a few Lekgolo worms and make a caricature Hunter from them, if he were lucky. Even with Bassett's overwhelming bloodlust, he didn't fool himself enough to think he could bring down a Hunter without the use of a city's worth of explosives.

There was a lot of chatter going on from various members of his group. For the time being, Bassett did his normal routine; nod along to any orders or communication, stick to his battle buddy, and get moving when everyone was ready. His trigger finger was itching, and hoped they all moved on to be heroes once again. Enough chatter, it was time for a fight.

"Muzzle the attitude, Lyster. If you want to harass something, I can find you a live grunt later."

Basset listened in on the conversation, amused at Lyster hounding his fellow soldiers by playing himself up as a big bad wolf. Even the lightest of reprimanding was fun to witness, and King relating Lyster to a dog was entertaining enough for him to be joyful.

"Alright, people. We're losing-" King surveyed the area, then spoke again. "Pick your resource. Time, ammo, non-perishable resources, meat and whatever else. Chatter, minimum. Dead Covenant, maximum."

Once again, Bassett gave a shoulder bump to Tremell with a grunt of approval. His two favorite words to pair together - 'dead' and 'Covenant' had quite a nice ring to it. Bassett reaffirmed himself to King's royal decree, listening in on the string of words pouring from Person's mouth. Something something, ready in 20 max. Bassett wasn't quite so technical. He wanted to be pointed in a direction and let loose to kill all the covvies he could stomach.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King's intervention on Lyster's behaviour seemed to have had the desired effect. The wolfish ODST might harbour unsavoury reservations about his reprimand at the hands of the ONI Agent, but King did not care evident by how he relaxed—the closest to relaxation a spook could get anyway—around the rhino. The agent went into information-receiving mode like an AI, his gaze sweeping the others, noticing the small interactions: Bassett's shoulder bump, Jace's straightening posture, Hayworth's soiled pants and trembling nerves, and other such things. One of the new additions, Person as King recalled, had been operating the radio for the team. He gave full attention to the intel that Person received from the AWACS.

"Roger that, Sergeant." King replied. King's thumb tapped the side of his battle rifle, a little habit when he was thinking. The tapping stopped when his conclusion was made. "Alright, we'll get a tin can or two and hustle up the rent-a-cops then move our way to the University. Having CAS is good, but I don't want to use it unless necessary. Is that clear?" King paused to allow the others a chance to retort with better ideas or suggestions. If there were any at all then they would be made, if not then- "Alright, form up and move out."

Let's see what lurks in the dark.

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Mentions: Solar Daddy 0stinato DrabberRogue and anyone who is nearby.
Viper Actual

 

[Viper Actual]

Verent City's School of Applied Technical Sciences - E-Building

"Uh-oh uh...Corporal Zangama, Pvt. Larson reporting, I just wanted to apologize on behalf of Pvt. Barnes! I'm sure whatever he did was meant with no animosity uh...sir! Ma'am! Uh, and he won't do it again!"

Barnes raised an eyebrow. "I won't?" Zagama frowned and crossed her arms while Halvarsson tightened his grip. Nodding enthusiastically, Barnes let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm kidding! I promise! Won't do it again!"

He glanced at Jackie before looking over at Zagama with pleading eyes. "Scout's honor?"

Rolling her eyes and sighing the ODST did a quick flick with her hand which prompted her tall squadmate to unceremoniously drop Barnes onto the floor with a loud thud. Cursing in his native language, Halvarsson walked past Barnes and helped Zagama scoop up the remaining ammo while the good private was left to brush off his fatigues and body armor. He looked up at Jackie with a grin and nodded. "Thanks Larson, you're a lifesaver- literally!"

Getting up and off the floor Barnes quickly inspected his camera to make sure it wasn't damaged and- once satisfied- he gave Jackie a pat on the shoulder, inspected her from top to bottom, smirked and walked past her in search for an MRE.

"Who knew angels in uniforms could look so hot?" Barnes said aloud, chuckling.

GhastlySquash

* * *
​

Optican - Product Development Branch

"Roger, sir. Moving out now." Replied Slick over the radio. A few rooms away the two sentries got up and made their way through the emergency exit and out behind the building. The two TRU-officers spilled out into the alleyway with their rifles shouldered and ready to fire. Fortunately it was clear and after a quick look on their options the two of them found another emergency exit leading into a neighboring structure.

Inside the lobby the others nodded as Cesar gave them a new objective to focus on. Ace looked skeptical at first but eventually nodded and whispered "Oorah" before checking the ammo counter on his rifle one last time. Immediately the officers started to move the supplies closer to the entrance.

Gizmo took a knee next to Cesar. "Who do you want to carry the supplies and who do you want shooting at the Covies?"

Outside a pair of Ghosts zoomed past at lethal speed, racing down the entire street and towards UNSC lines. A lone Shadow trailed behind them, and was loaded up with large supply crates. Once the vehicles had passed the street fell silent again.

"Cesar this is Slick. We're in position, ready to rock 'n' roll, over."

Calibutcher

* * *
​

Innovation Plaza

"Good to hear you Baseplate. Establishing comms. Be ready, and keep the ships fueled, we may need some help in a pinch."

"Understood Minuteman, we'll be here when you need us. Just give us a call and we'll see what we can do, over."

"Darkstar, requesting picture on bandits and chicks, known dogboxes, and any marked AAA positions."

"Minuteman, Darkstar. Relaying tactical data to you now. Be advised- we are currently using traffic cameras for most of this stuff so the accuracy is no bueno in some areas. I'm also forwarding friendly positions and all allocated IFF-tags in the vicinity."

There was a brief pause from the AWACs-operator before they continued; "Please observe that we have friendly non-military units operating in the area. Police, militia and civilian volunteers are armed and can be identified via the code-phrase 'Blue'. Response is 'Swan'. How copy, over?"

Excusing herself from Rose, Grey stepped up towards King, Lyster and the others. "We're not moving out until we got new orders. Backup would be nice but don't forget why we're here- there'll be little time over to round up strays." She then looked at Lyster specifically. "And make sure you behave while we're here. There's eyes on us."

True enough a squad of MPs were loitering near a warthog not too far away. All of them were looking at Lyster and Wendell silently with one slowly tapping a finger on the cuffs in his belt. It was either a challenge or a warning, even though few MPs would ever dare to lay a hand on someone from or with ONI much less in an active warzone. Aside from the MPs there were quite a few stares from nearby marines as well as from Mokoena's ODSTs with the latter forming a wall of opaque visors looking in Lyster's direction.

Clearing his throat, Tremell glanced at both Owen and Ray. "At this rate we're gonna be able to cut through the air with our knives."

DrabberRogue 0stinato SpazTheButcher Solar Daddy Worthlessplebian

 

[GhastlySquash]

Pvt. Larson smiled at the mention of being a lifesaver. "Awww well, ya' know how it is! Can't leave my partner hanging!"

However, that smile quickly turned into an "Barnes! C'mon!" Jackie turned red. "You know better than to piss those ODSTs off. That's the second time this week I busted you out of trouble. And you know how ODSTs are, they're hyper lethal or whatever." Underneath the embarrassed façade, Jackie herself was tempted to take it a step further than Zangama. Psych ops were her specialty and she could think of a few ways to "correct" Barnes behavior without him catching on.

For now, however, let Barnes enjoy his MRE. It would at least get him off the ODST trail.

"Want a sandwich? I think a new shipment came in! And better yet I bet you they come in a variety of flavors too!"

 

[NamelessTrax]

It looked like the worst of it was in this Soldier’s head, the eye could be saved, with some vision loss at best. Dax pattered the Corporal on the shoulder lightly, “Keep your head down when you can, and you just might. Speaking of, go see the Medic asap and change those bandages. You should be getting rotated back if you want to keep using that Eye.” His best attempt at improving the morale. This man was a Soldier, but now He’s just a Man, wanting to go home. Letting the Corporal go, Dax found himself glancing around at the different interactions happening; the antic’s of Lyster, Bassett and Tremell being the typical Grunts they are. Regrouping with his comrades, Dax remained close to the Leadership, shuffling over towards Bassett and Tremell after hearing King’s orders.

 

[0stinato]

Wendell had quite a snarl on him, but King didn’t want Lyster to take it in with that slap round the helm. With Grey closing in on him too, and indicating the military police, to whom he was the focal point, Lyster wondered if he was exuding an aura of volatility and dangerous unprofessionalism that the MPs could feel from way over there. Or, more likely, they may have been within eyeline of the self-imposed graffiti upon various armour plates. What volumes did his rank speak if his behaviour undercut it all? The discrepancy wouldn't make him respected despite his personality, it would simply beg the question of who the hell saw fit to bestow upon him that rank? Unfortunately, Lyster knew he shone when on the field, and flickered like an arsonist's lighter when off it.

So, he ducked his head a little and raised a hand to indicate his surrender of the situation; truthfully, the four of his current opponents, despite their various degrees of indifference, had provided a much better groundwork than he had attempted to lay with Johansen. He’d raised the topic of blood not only because it was thematic to Johansen’s hyperfixation while in the Pelican, but also because it would force the man to consider one outcome of war and arouse him to act to avoid it. Stop him from... hesitating...

But Johansen had been bestowed a gift just now. The gift of the knowledge that other soldiers, and even a couple of ONI spooks, valued his wellbeing, at least in some way. And Lyster was perfectly happy and prepared to play the role of Big Bad Wolf if it strengthened brotherhoods. Wendell, what a spark, what a live wire! Perfect to jump-start the reluctant battery that was Johansen’s morale. The ideal foil, the hope to Lyster's hate.

But for now, Lyster raised his hand, and ducked his head. You win. He had intel to gather for the brief moments they might be standing around. Until Grey, Black or one of the others gave the signal, it was an opportunity to learn about the state of things. Johansen didn’t need any more of his attention, and he certainly didn’t want to incur the wrath of the MPs.

He slipped out of the situation, not bothering to answer Wendell and his snarling face, and turned his attention to Dawson and Samara.

‘Since we have a bit of time,’ he said, only speaking up after Black so as not to intrude on his question of Samara, ‘why don’t you battle-scarred tell us what we’re going to be expecting. Any surprises from the Covie bastards? Any idea of numbers, weaponry, vehicles present? And what of Major Kovac, did he and the squad just disappear off the radar?’

--
Interactions: Viper Actual Naril
Mentions: Worthlessplebian

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King inclined his head towards the sky of Verent in subtle bemusement and bitter comprehension. Grey shut down King's temerity in no uncertain terms. He reclined himself back into position and awaited the orders that would stem from Agent Black or one of the many faceless commanders of this blasted battlefield. King's thumb began to thump the side of his battle rifle with practiced boredom. At least King silenced Lyster's tirade, to King's ears, it stank of dung with a thousand sewer flies circling the 'juicy' delight. They possessed cooperative prowess that is certainly impressive, but they ultimately possessed discrepancies in their tenets. Fortunately for Lyster and whatever his ill-begotten beliefs, King knew of an iron-clad method to flourish with opposing stances; ignore them like a camel surrounded by the ocean.

King glided past Lyster, a shark shadowing seals. When Lyster actually inquired about the status of their surroundings, King felt a pang of pride in his frosted heart. "If we turn a corner, we'll find a wraith grinning down on us with its mortar." Joseph "Joey" King tempts the fickle fates again, if there was a God then he would smack King for his insolent arrogance. "I'm just Joe King." He said.

Interactions: 0stinato Viper Actual and anyone who was near him.

 

[Viper Actual]

Innovation Plaza

"I know you're all very busy but if you could I'd appreciate it greatly if you could be on the look out for one of my squads. They were attached to 4th Platoon and led by our company CO, Major Kovac. I could use him badly back here."

Mokoena frowned slightly and nodded. "If we see the major or any of his men we'll be sure to send them your way, lieutenant." Dawson nodded in thanks. Meanwhile Sam shrugged and gave Black the sort of playful smile that looked like it had been practiced on in front of a mirror more than a dozen times. "Zephyr is like she's always been," Sam finally replied.

Black grunted. "Excited and reckless?"

Sam simply smirked and left any possible response hanging in the air. Just then Lyster stepped up to the command team;

‘Since we have a bit of time,’ he said, only speaking up after Black so as not to intrude on his question of Samara, ‘why don’t you battle-scarred tell us what we’re going to be expecting. Any surprises from the Covie bastards? Any idea of numbers, weaponry, vehicles present? And what of Major Kovac, did he and the squad just disappear off the radar?’

Dawson nodded twice and gestured past the team, presumably towards the actual frontline- which was drawing closer to the plaza with every passing hour. "So far they've followed their own textbook. Light infantry supported by air transports initially but once they reached Verent City they upgraded to mechanized platoons supported by heavy armor. Our automated anti-air batteries paired with multiple squadrons of assault craft has been keeping their air support in check thus far."

Continuing, Dawson nodded towards the single SDV-class heavy corvette sitting comfortably right outside the city air space and the gigantic CAS-class assault carrier looming on the horizon, still scorching the massive industrial zone far away from the city with its bright excavation beam. "Surprisingly neither of those two ships have made a play on the city yet with the corvette loitering right outside the range of our long-range batteries. We've seen both ships deploy ground forces as well as ferry fresh reinforcement and supplies to the assaulting troops but so far neither have actually moved onto the city."

Dawson frowned and shook his head. "If they had I doubt we'd be standing here right now."

Mokoena cleared his throat; "We believe that the Covenant officer in charge of the operation is looking for something or someone on Verent. Their exact motives remain unknown but as long as they keep looking we'll be relatively safe within the city limits."

The lieutenant didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyways before looking at Lyster. "Ground forces is what you'd expect; Little guys in front, big ones in the rear. We got those birds acting as scouts per usual or as specialist infantry reinforcing weaker units assaulting our positions. Some of the hingeheads have been using Ghosts in a quick-reaction support function or as light cavalry. Most streets are littered with too much debris and abandoned vehicles for them to be effective but if you find yourselves on open ground I suggest legging it and fast before they can catch you out in the open."

"I have also had sporadic reports of special shock units around the city as well though most of those reports come from the Army guys and they're a couple of blocks away from us. That being said, if you see any Hunters and Brutes forming up somewhere something really bad is about to go down," finished Dawson.

He then sighed a shrugged again as he spoke; "As far as Major Kovac goes, well, he was supposed to lead a recon element past the SATS and into hostile territory. Supposedly some of the militia guys had spotted some heavy UNSC hardware stuck on a downed bird so he figured he'd steal it back for us. Unfortunately for me he missed his check-in an hour ago and the ODSTs at the school- your people- haven't seen anyone come back as of yet."

"As much as I like heavy ordnance I'd pick my CO any day of the week and if you can get him back or at the very least hand him a radio that'd be great. If not, well, then at least I know what happened to him."

Sergeant Davis nodded towards Dawson. "What's your plan B? This place won't hold forever."

"There is none, at least not that I know of." Dawson placed both hands on his hips. "Central command is still debating what to do but last I checked they hadn't come up with anything solid. Seems like everyone is too afraid of the corvette to do anything. Right now all the civvies are packed either onboard shuttles or at the spaceport tether but all civilian ships are grounded until command says otherwise and right now they seem content with just carrying out sortie after sortie while our defense line is steadily collapsing back towards them."

0stinato (and anyone else standing close to the command squad)

 

[Calibutcher]

Regardless of the enemy they faced, the discipline his men showed under pressure was reassuring in its own way. Equipment began to move and everyone stopped checking their weapons. The pieces started to align as his men moved. “I want Torch and Limbo on the lookout. The rest of us haul gear as fast as we can.” It was a touch of a gamble. More men moving stuff than being ready to return fire. He was hoping that the Covies would be too busy with their own issues to notice a small group of soldiers loading supplies across the street.

It was folly to think so of course. They would have sentries of their own to watch the road. Still, if they could load even some of the supplies before taking fire it would make it a more profitable run. More importantly, he would like to avoid injuries or casualties. “ROE is to return fire once we are fired upon. Pack the supplies however we have to, I’m not expecting any of it to be tied down when we leave but I want to leave with most of it.”

Cesar Shifted closer to the doorway and eased his head around looking across the street for signs of movement. Anything to tell him where the cursed aliens could be looking or watching.


Rolled: 1

Peeking out from his cover, the initial observation made by Cesar wasn’t all that helpful. Past the trio of vehicles parked closely to the entrance was rows of palm tree planters separating the two roads- each with three lanes- from one another. Next to both roads were two rather wide sidewalks, a measure taken to ease foot traffic on one of Verent City’s most popular streets.

On the other side of the road stood a five-story office complex. Built out of concrete the building had been lined and reinforced with tan plaster, decorative metal platings and other artistic details.

Unfortunately for Cesar half the structure was blocked by smoke billowing out of a destroyed HuCiv sedan- specifically a Genet- that had wrapped itself around a pair of concrete jersey barriers painted in the white and blue of the Verent City Constabulary.

Furthermore the few parts of the building not obscured by smoke were riddled with bullet- and shrapnel-holes. Few windows remained intact and currently there weren’t much to look at.

A quick movement on the far right, fourth floor followed by a bird-like cackle hinted to the presence of Jackals but none were visible from Cesar’s position.


Just smoke and concrete outside, nothing that would lead him to feel more sure of his decision. Sometimes it just came down to fulfilling orders. He had delayed long enough though. Any more time and his men would start to feel too much of the fear that could grip them before a battle. He walked over to the first pallet of supplies and braced himself behind it. He adjusted the strap on his rifle and began pushing the pallet towards the doors, the first step was agonizingly slow but his momentum began to build.

“Let’s move boys!” He gave the command in person but made sure it was heard over the comm as well so his lookouts could be ready. As the team lead, he made sure his words were not idle. He pushed out the door before any of his men though a part of him was grateful to be behind a crate of supplies as he did. His boot slid slightly on the ashy concrete outside but he retained his balance and heaved ever harder into the crate. He kept right on pushing until the container crashed into the side of the pickup truck they had commandeered. He winced at the sound of scraping metal and scratched paint but brushed aside any thoughts of vehicle care. It didn’t need to look pretty it needed to drive and be full of supplies.

He leapt atop the crate and rolled into the bed of the truck, his back was now facing the tower across the street as he loaded supplies from the crate into his truck. He gritted his teeth and worked as fast as his muscles would allow him waiting to hear the first crack of gunfire or worse for a round to end him before he would even hear it.

 

[0stinato]

Mokoena cleared his throat; "We believe that the Covenant officer in charge of the operation is looking for something or someone on Verent. Their exact motives remain unknown but as long as they keep looking we'll be relatively safe within the city limits."

Lyster gave a dry smirk and a shrug, glancing at the two Covenant ships, ‘If they start moving, it means they found something, eh. Buys us some time at least.’ It was a curious bit of information Major Mokoena offered, and if indeed that theory held true, and if indeed, as misfortune would have it, the Covenant officer wanted what Black and Grey wanted, time would be another factor to contend with. But, as per Black’s commands, he wasn’t going to mention that. He’d keep an eye on those ships though, whenever possible.

The lieutenant didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyways before looking at Lyster. "Ground forces is what you'd expect; Little guys in front, big ones in the rear. We got those birds acting as scouts per usual or as specialist infantry reinforcing weaker units assaulting our positions. Some of the hingeheads have been using Ghosts in a quick-reaction support function or as light cavalry. Most streets are littered with too much debris and abandoned vehicles for them to be effective but if you find yourselves on open ground I suggest legging it and fast before they can catch you out in the open."

Listening to Dawson’s report of the situation though, time would be a major issue. Ghosts, even on ripped-up streets, were a roadblock. If they were going for the same target, they’d have to move swiftly. Move swiftly and hope those ships stayed on the horizon. As for the Brutes and Hunters... to him the whole thing sounded like one big permission slip to destruction. Verent City was seeing its final days. The least they could do was give it a send-off tinted in Covie blood.

He listened to the rest of the report, absorbed the information, offered a ‘Can do, lieutenant,’ in response to Dawson’s wishes of Kovac, then glanced at King. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me at all if we saw a Wraith, not after that report. As for the rest, I’m not wearing the right shoes to tango with a Hunter,’ he smirked again. ‘I’d say I hope we don’t run into any, but if we do, I’ll show the kids a new use for breaching charges.’

--
Interactions: Viper Actual Worthlessplebian

 

[Viper Actual]

Verent City's School of Applied Technical Sciences - E-Building

"Barnes! C'mon!" Jackie turned red.

Grinning, Barnes shrugged. "What? Don't tell me you can't handle a bit of casual flirting." The cameraman shook his head slowly. "Life's too short to be a stiff, Larson. Especially now with the Covenant and all the doomsday-hubbub."

Unfortunately for Jackie her words of wisdom fell on deaf ears and Barnes appeared to either zone out or ignore her until the mention of MREs. He chuckled and shook his head once again. "Imagine if the UNSC would spend as much on rations as they did on building spaceships. Maybe we'd win some more battles."

As he spoke Barnes passed two ODSTs of which he gave one a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Right fellas?"

The ODSTs however remained silent, blank visors merely mirroring Barnes' shit-eating grin as they passed him and Larson by on their way to Zagama and Halvarsson.

Suddenly an explosion rocked the entire building. Barnes instinctively dropped down into a crouch next to a hardened equipment crate with his camera at the ready. Around the room the ODSTs sprung into action and took up positions near windows and blown-out holes lining the wall. Halvarsson's dark voice boomed across the room but his exact words were drowned out by a second explosion which was much closer this time.

Zagama dropped down into cover and appeared to yelling over the radio; "Wraith! Incoming Wraith! Get me a Jackhammer NOW!"

Another explosion rocked the building while spraying gravel, concrete chunks and blobs of blue plasma at the facade near Zagama's current position. Several ODSTs started calling out enemy positions as enemy small-arms fire peppered the windows and improvised firing ports lined with UNSC-stamped sandbags.

GhastlySquash

* * *​

Optican - Product Development Branch

“ROE is to return fire once we are fired upon. Pack the supplies however we have to, I’m not expecting any of it to be tied down when we leave but I want to leave with most of it.”

"Aye, sir," replied Ace, Gizmo, Torch and Limbo in near-perfect unison. A pair of green lights winked on Cesar's HUD, letting him know that Slick and Domino had overheard the orders as well. While running supply runs through a warzone were some pretty deep waters it'd take more to undo years of training and past successful missions together. Those notches on the Verent City TRU's collective belt had proven time and time again that no matter what these officers faced they'd rather fight the challenge head-on than give up.

Synthetic drug epidemics, gunrunners in the port district, illegal chemical processing sites, wanted refugees and even a Innie cell had all been stopped, busted, dismantled, arrested and eliminated by the very same unit. Verent was their planet and it'd make more than some bad-breath, split-jawed, over-zealous aliens to change that. Semper Paratus, hingehead motherfucker.

Once Cesar got to work it didn't take long for the rest of the team to follow. As ordered Torch and Limbo both took up overwatch positions with Torch setting up by the lead armored SWAT-vehicle and Limbo by the commandeered civilian truck. Meanwhile Ace and Gizmo did their best to very carefully and very silently move pallets of medical supplies in a similar fashion to Cesar.

He winced at the sound of scraping metal and scratched paint but brushed aside any thoughts of vehicle care. It didn’t need to look pretty it needed to drive and be full of supplies.

Rolled: 4

On the opposite end of the street near one of the windows a lone Unggoy soldier winced at the sound metal scraping against metal. Perking up and muttering from behind his methane rebreather the stubby Covenant soldier donning orange armor slowly scanned the room in front of him while lazily clutching a half-discharged plasma pistol in his hand. Upon seeing that everyone else inside were still sound asleep he muttered something to himself, holstered his weapon and tried to fall back asleep.

As Cesar started to load supplies Ace went back for another pallet while Gizmo formed a chain with the intention of handing medical hardcases to the squad leader standing at the back of the truck. "I don't like this, boss." Whispered Gizmo, shaking his head.

Calibutcher

* * *​

Innovation Plaza

“Keep your head down when you can, and you just might. Speaking of, go see the Medic asap and change those bandages. You should be getting rotated back if you want to keep using that Eye.”

Nodding, the wounded marine smiled before getting up. "Will do, thanks Doc. Good luck out there."

Dawson thanked Lyster, as well as the command squad, for listening in. As Lyster and Sgt. Davis passed on the intel to the rest of the squad Black ordered everyone to fill up on supplies. A small tent nearby had cubical containers filled with fresh water, MREs, batteries and other "nice to have"-stuff whereas a reinforced container lined with instacrete barriers served as an ammunitions dump.

While the squad was busy replenishing its supplies Dawson laid out a tactical map for Black and Mokoena who both studied every detail of the immediate area. Dawson was also kind enough to share a map with the latest intel on friendly positions to both squad leaders- intel that would serve them well if communication to the AWACs were to be cut off or jammed.

Some fifteen minutes after initially arriving at Innovation Plaza the SRG team was ready to move out with Mokoena's platoon following closely behind.

Using Dawson's map Black led the team through a short maze of streets deemed "safe" by UNSC forces. While on their way to the School of Applied Technical Sciences the team came across a squad of police officers in riot gear going door-to-door looking for civilians, a squad of marines falling back to Innovation Plaza and a squad of UNSC Army engineers setting up traps across a larger street which would no doubt see Covenant traffic in a few hours as UNSC lines continued to collapse.

Eventually the SRG team reached the SATS campus;

Unlike Innovation Plaza the large administrative buildings surrounding a small park in a large U-shape were all shot up, smoldering and hastily fortified with sandbags and thick UNSC defensive barricades. A lone UNSC flag fluttered gently in the wind high above the A-Building which was the main on-campus admin building. Sitting next to it were the B- and E-buildings, of which a steady stream of gunfire could be heard echoing from the latter.

By the look of things the campus park was relatively calm or at least it was as calm as one expected an empty, shot-up and cratered park with a downed Pelican in it to be. A squad of Marines could be seen running from the A-building to the E-building to reinforce whoever was inside shooting out towards the UNSC perimeter which was on the other side of campus.

Black pointed towards the E-building and started to jog across the park as the weapons fire increased in insensitivity. "Let's go, people! Double-time it!"

DrabberRogue NamelessTrax 0stinato SpazTheButcher Solar Daddy Worthlessplebian

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King nodded along with Sgt. Lyster's comment about dance shoes. "Agreed, but as you know, we don't get what we always want." The ONI Agent adjusted his shemagh off-handedly. By Gods, he loved the drop-shock armour, but there were times where it can get claggy in it. Or that could have been the pressing weight that caused him to sweat when the going gets tough for the parties involved. This strait-laced wire happens habitually. It would've happened when George bought the farm or when he drove with the fury of a madman coked out of his mind on the latest batch of backalley stim-packs concocted by an equally demented individual who was graced with a doctorate in chemistry and a passing fascination with biology, but luckily those moments were mercifully brief so the 'strain' as King called it never got the opportunity to sporulate.

Black soon ordered the squad to recoup whatever supply they required from the crates or reinforced containers. Food, medical supplies, or ammo. A smile, halfheartedly, molded itself then melted away from King's face. Moments ago, he told the troops that they were burning supplies and now as if Fate itself came down and flipped Joseph off. Well, a desperate man shouldn't be looking gift horses in the mouth. A good way to get chomped from those flat teeth or so he hears. He slipped an extra magazine into a plate pouch with two clicks and slipped away from the crowded resources, he did not need anymore.

------

Soon enough, they were on the move. Quiet for now, but King knew all too well the fleeting notion of silence. His rifle gently swayed from interest point to interest point as he marched alongside his squad. Surprises were the last thing that he ordered on this chaotic menu. All this marching however did finally lead them to their intended destination. As Black so poignantly pointed at the war-injured campus, smoldered pelican, and lastly... Gunfire. Black shot another order which translated in King's mind into a repeating set of two words: Move it, move it, move it! King bolted into a jog like his squadmates. "Wonderful," He dryly said.

 

[GhastlySquash]

"I don't know Barnes, UNSC is still a better career path than what I had back home. You call these rations bad, I'd say this is passable with a capital P." Jackie started munching on her sandwich, a smile forming on her lips.

Rolling her eyes as her partner once against trotted the fine line by patting a few ODSTs, she barely had time to come up with a comeback when the explosion hit.

"Barnes! Get the camera!" Jackie screamed, but Barnes was already rolling and in position. The man wasn't exactly a solider, but when the fighting got tough, he still remembered his objective. That alone gave him enough value to the overall team.

Jackie's face turned pale at the mention of a wraith. A covenant armored assault vehicle, more akin to their UNSC tanks. Taking a cover position near Barnes, Jackie made sure her combat cam was working as she made her way to the firing ports to help the ODSTs handle the smaller pests in their way.

 

[Calibutcher]

He didn’t have to stand there and watch his team to see if they got to work, it just happened. He focused on stacking hard cases in the bed of the truck. The fact that they were not being shot at gave him time to lay things in an orderly fashion, he also laid each piece down gently trying to avoid making more noise. Even with the exertion of loading the truck and his elevated breathing he still felt a touch of relief that no shots had been fired yet. Maybe he could still be lucky today.


He glanced at Gizmo as he picked up another hard case. “What don’t ya like?” He huffed. “The Covenant bastards crawling all over our planet? Or the weather?” He had been avoiding looking at the buildings across the street. But he finally glanced that way, a part of him expected to see a Jakal or Elite ready to gun him down, but no such sight greeted him and he released the breath he had held. He turned back to the task at hand and kept stacking boxes.


“Don’t sweat it, we aren’t being shot at and as soon as we get this loaded we are hauling ass out of here.” He looked over the cab of the truck and saw the other vehicles filling with supplies as well. He tapped on his comm. “How many more crates Ace?” He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice Ace bring out the last pallet.

“This is it.” He grunted as he stopped the rolling pallet.

“Good.” Again he bumped his comm. “Slick, Domino we may be rolling soon. How does it look from up there?”

 

[0stinato]

A soldier couldn’t ask for better than a supply stop just before what could be the last chapter of his life. Though, it always sounded better to die in desperation, where you’re down to your last clip and last quart of blood, propped up on an elbow and grunting that you’ll never let ‘em past, than to die fully-stocked and well-equipped. It would just be embarrassing to die like that. What would your faceless fellows think, jogging past while shouldering an extra burden? Though the thoughts were amusing, Lyster did as the others did, ensuring his stocks were adequate after he had passed on the plan of action to the others.

He didn’t speak after that, opting to keep his visor opaque. Tense professionalism was freezing over the previously lucid and malleable relationships between the ODSTs, and he wasn’t going to be the one to disturb it. The ‘kids’ as Grey had called them would need it. Their mouths would be dry, their guts would be on the verge of roiling, and they’d feel their weapons heavier than they were five minutes ago. Fear reaction. Something something, sympathetic nervous system, something something. The kind of Big Words the medics liked using as if logic offset natural fear. Lyster had heard them often; he'd been around medics enough. Would Dax try pulling those words past him? Lyster couldn't tell yet. In general, the less you knew your medic, the luckier you were. Though, one could ask whether Lyster's file was indicative of good luck or bad luck - bad luck in the sense that he had a lengthy file for medic attention on the field, but good luck in that he was still alive at 39 years of age. Better a long record than the sort acronym K.I.A.

And as the team proceeded to the Campus, with every step building silent team determination and breaking down the walls of individualism, Lyster hoped the kids' bodily systems had reset themselves. Hoped their minds had got through the worst of the tempest and settled into the rhythms of what made an ODST. In the typical context, ‘feet first into hell’ referred to the orbital drops, purposeful but unchangeable trajectories planned out ahead of time. Lyster liked to give the phrase another meaning though: keep running, voluntarily, into hell.

Some soldiers would be happy to, to give their lives to raise the probability their great-great-great grandchildren might perhaps just be able to live in a world free of the conflict. Lyster had nothing. Or, at least, that’s what it was safest to think.

That’s what kept him more sane.

Black pointed towards the E-building and started to jog across the park as the weapons fire increased in insensitivity. "Let's go, people! Double-time it!"

The Pelican was quite a sight. Nose-down in the ground, turf curled and gnarled around the site. Lyster upped his pace, the weight of both his reinforced armour and DMR heavy in each step. By the time they reached the E-building they were gunning for, he’d probably be a pace or two behind the others. Such was the life of a juggernaut. Knowing this, he upped his priority of observation, trying to keep his eye on areas the others might miss in their hasted movement. Just as with the stairs back at the facility, Lyster was thinking about grenades. Big groups moving together was the ideal honey-pot for a well-placed explosive, and while he hadn't seen any tangoes yet, it never hurt to be... careful.

Or paranoid.

--
Mentions: Viper Actual NamelessTrax

 

[Solar Daddy]

Owen, almost psychopathic in his silent determination and focus, was prepped and ready for the sally-out the second the orders were given. He paid nearly no mind to the event that took place between a few of the other ODST's, instead opting to keep his mind clear and ready for the task at hand. Moving with the group of trained experts, all wielding their own weapons of destruction made more deadly by their proficiency, Owen grinned behind his opaque visor. He prayed they ran into trouble. With the kind of lineup they seemed to have, Covvie bodies were sure to pile up, and that's all Owen could ask for. Running the simplest of weapons, Owen knew his assault rifle would be his old-reliable. No fancy one-tone armament intended for use in specific circumstances. Not a DMR, not a shottie - Bassett wanted to kill things at all ranges, and preferred the iconic, consistent, and reliable AR over anything else. Freshly equipped on ammunition and a newfound vigor for warfare, Bassett readied up and set forth with the rest of the unit.

As they crossed from block to block, even in an area deemed green by friendlies, Owen checked his corners and looked out for potential threats hiding in any place he would. The last thing he wanted was to have his unit down an ODST the second fire erupted all because they were being lazy on reconnaissance. Bassett carried his rifle with both hands firm but causal, low but ready. If anyone was able to read his thoughts, they'd think he was almost hoping to get shot at. For the first months after joining the forces, he suppressed his want for the vibrant blood of aliens, but that tact was lost after only a handful of drops. He was fervent, anticipating the action of relieving zealous aliens of life.

By the time they reached the campus, Owen was still feeling spirited. Active combat zones always riled up the youngest Bassett, his adrenaline primed to be pumped into his body the second it was needed to. The sound of approaching gunfire as they neared the downed bird had Owen more on edge than normal, waiting out the fire that would spark the fight. At the call to move, Bassett was keeping pace with his fellow soldiers and running for their objective near the back. Passing the slower breacher among them, Owen wordlessly shoulder-bumped Lyster as Owen lapped him. "Think you can keep up?" He asked with a slight grin hidden behind his helmet. The big guy could use a little motivation, lest he find himself separated. Owen was no babysitter, but he periodically checked back to make sure the eccentric graffitied ODST kept pace while still sticking sides with King.

While surprised by the bump as Bassett ran past him, Lyster waited until he had seen no threats to reply to the little dig humourously thrown his way. He returned a short laugh. 'Heh, back off, breacher. I might not be winning this footrace, but I didn't earn my tag for running. You better impress me when we meet a sealed door.' Still, guy was right. Lyster's body type was never going to win against the males, but separation could be deadly.