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PREPARE TO DROP ~A Halo: ODST RP~

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MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#1: Nov 7th 2011 at 12:04:32 PM

~July 18th, 2552, aboard the UNSC Destroyer Fighting Words, Low Orbit over Sigma Octanus IV~

The briefing room was dark as a figure leaned over the tactical display, viewing and reviewing every bit of data that came into the battle net. It seemed that for once the battle in space had gone in the UNSC's favor, the figure mused as she reviewed the nigh suicidal maneuver that had won the battle.

Minerva Patterson was tall and fit, and her face was unwrinkled from all her time in helmet, however the forty nine years she had lived in the black, on and off cryo sleep, was apparent in her steely grey eyes. She was dressed in the UNSC BDUs, the black body suit that was the basis of all Marine armor. The patch on her shoulder marked her both as a Gunnery Sergeant, and as a member of the 105th, the Helljumpers.

The woman looked up from her display, at the squad assembled before her. The past years had been tough, and almost every squad had at least one replacement. After the Battle of Fumirole, most of her squad had been WIA when the Covenant Battle Cruiser had crashed into the city. None of them were back on the duty roster yet, so she had been reassigned to this lot, all of them the sole remaining active members of their teams. They were survivors, the whole group of them.

She hoped their luck would hold.

Taking one final glance at the tactical display, the squad leader began the briefing. "Ladies, Gentlemen? We have an assignment." She gestured at the display, which changed as she did so. "The Covenant may have been defeated up here, but our boys on the ground are taking a massive pounding. The Covenant have forces in the capital city Cote D'Azur, as well as Caracas, Enfield, Huiren, Silma, and a dozen other settlements. The top brass, in their infinate wisdom, have decided to send Spartans to secure the city of Cote d'Azur." There was a pause, the hostilities between Spartans and Helljumpers being well known. The services were just too similar to like each other.

The Helljumper continued. "Our objective is the destruction of Caracas. We are to deny the Covenant any and all information that the city might contain. The brass has provided us with one Havok class Tactical Nuclear Warhead, as a method of expiating our objective." She saw a couple smiles from the troops. It wasn't often that the group could break out the heavy weapons. "We will drop from orbit here." Minerva indicated the landing site, approximately ten miles from the city. It was farm land, covered in maize, fires sporadically placed where combat had occurred. "From there, we will march to the city, giving every Covenant we encounter a goodnight requiem. We will then plant our christmas present within the Covenant refuelling point here" she gestured to a Covenant structure within the city, several banshees sitting inert around it. "And then we shall slip away, as the Covenant find themselves with a new sun in their front yard."

Minerva met the eyes of every member of her squad. She saw the steel in them, as they prepared to drop into hell. "We drop in one hour. Any questions?"

Plumbum The Plum and Only from Chichester, United Kingdom Since: Jan, 2001 Relationship Status: And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
The Plum and Only
#2: Nov 7th 2011 at 12:57:19 PM

Emma, sat near the end of the room, far away from the others. It was her first deployment, she had only ever had training drops, never having to drop hot into an active combat zone. She was all nerves but never gave a sign of it. Not that fear had affected her abilities before. She too was decked out in her armor, already having painted on her turquoise stripes down the armor's arms and back.

"Civilians? They all out or are we going to evac them? Certainly helps if they don't hop into our line of fire every five seconds."

edited 8th Nov '11 11:31:27 AM by Plumbum

Curse the ill fortune that led you to me.
MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#3: Nov 7th 2011 at 5:43:42 PM

GySgt Minerva looked toward the group fung. Of all the people on the squad, it was "Sparks", as she was called, who she was most worried about. Not a rookie, no ODST is, but as close to green as a Shock Drop Trooper could get.

Still, it was better to keep morale up then say the tactless truth. "Word from command is assume the civvies left, but keep an eye out for stragglers. If we do see any, we'll take them with us." The unsaid sentiment behind her words was obvious. And give the dead ones vengeance and one hell of a funeral pyre. Covvies don't take prisoners.

Still, the gunny had faith in her troops. She was confident the group could handle anything that was sent their way.

edited 7th Nov '11 5:43:57 PM by MaskedAndDangerous

Cganale (4 Score & 7 Years Ago)
#4: Nov 7th 2011 at 6:10:57 PM

"Expected enemy disposition?" the red-haired woman in the center of the second-to-last row asked.

Other than that, she said nothing, and showed no inclination of saying anything else. It was how she was. Not the sort of withdrawn nature that came from too many years spent shooting and getting shot at by everything under the sun, but the economy of words of a woman who didn't fuck around. She fit the stereotype of the aloof long-range killer to the T.

GIG Forever livid from Where I want to be Since: Feb, 2010
Forever livid
#5: Nov 7th 2011 at 6:20:32 PM

"As much as Miss Emma concerned for others, I do believe that it falls to me to to care for the injured," Nahum Barrett said.

The narcissist kept a calm face. Despite his job title, he wasn't too concerned for the civilians. Sure, them getting in the crossfire would be bad for all parties involved, but unless they came to him with an injury, he could care less.

"So, am I cleared to treat them as needed, or am I to stay on the sidelines and stick to your hip?"

rabbitRider The Sword of the Morning from Shurima Since: Mar, 2011 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
The Sword of the Morning
#6: Nov 7th 2011 at 7:02:05 PM

-Click-

-Click-

-Click-

-Click-

-Click-

-Click-

Sebastian "Hazard" Cazzaro loaded the last shell into the M90 with unhurried calm, before grasping the rack and pumping with a satisfying crunch. He laid the weapon across the unoccupied seat beside him, alongside his loaded assault rifle. He withdrew his knife from it's sheath , testing the edge to make sure it was sharp enough. Never could be too careful. He replaced the blade, sliding it into the sheath mounted on the front of his armor. He shifted in his red and gray close-quarters armor, checking the padding and plates that covered his body. Most marines, even most ODS Ts, would have been hindered by the bulky armored and it's thicker protection, but Hazard wore it like a second skin.

Done with his preparation, he focused his attention on his new commanding officer. He appeared alert and focused on the gunny's briefing, but in reality, his thoughts were far away.

Home. He thought, with barely suppressed anger, mixed with a little bit of disbelief. I'm back home. The irony was not lost on him.

He stared at the tactical display at the center of the room, as it showed the battlefield that was now the planet of his birth. Numbers flashed before his eyes, representing civilian casualties, enemy and allied troop compositions, and countless other types of data that he was used to identifying at a glance.

But now they weren't just numbers. Those casualties were his people. His friends maybe. His family. It was somewhat surreal, he realized through his cold rage, to see his own planet as a warzone. Combat and home were two things that did not mix. They belonged to entirely different sections of his life. One was his life as a marine, as an ODST, a life of adrenaline and lead and plasma and death. The other was home, his parents sugar farm a few dozen miles outside Cote D'Azur, his old friends who he chatted with whenever he could, and his six younger siblings. Two entirely separate lives, two things that one did not mix.

The Covenant didn't seem to have gotten that message.

Minerva's steely voice broke through his trance for a moment. "The Covenant may have been defeated up here, but our boys on the ground are taking a massive pounding. The Covenant have forces in the capital city Cote D'Azur, as well as Caracas, Enfield, Huiren, Silma, and a dozen other settlements. The top brass, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to send Spartans to secure the city of Cote d'Azur."

Sebastian's fists clenched ever so slightly at that. He wasn't even allowed to reclaim his own city. A small, logical part of his brain told him that maybe that was a good thing, that he might make mistakes in Cote D'Azur, that the Spartans were a better choice. The rest of him told that part to shut up.

"Our objective is the destruction of Caracas. We are to deny the Covenant any and all information that the city might contain. The brass has provided us with one Havok class Tactical Nuclear Warhead, as a method of expiating our objective."

He saw the smiles that a few of the others wore, and Sebastian clenched his teeth tightly, suppressing his anger. He knew he was guilty of much the same glee on most missions where they brought out the big guns, but not here... not on Sigma Octanus IV... not his home...

He closed his eyes, trying to block out his wrath. He wished could put on his helmet, he longed for his HUD and the comfortable anonymity it offered him. But it would seem strange to put it on now, so he left it cradled in the crook of his arm, and tried to focus once more on the mission.

Caracas... He had visited there before. Hell, his cousin lived there. He hoped they had all made it off before the Covvies descended. God knew what their chances were otherwise...

He heard one of his squadmates ask the gunny about civilians, and listened to the response. He caught the unsaid meaning behind the words as well, after all, this wasn't his first rodeo. He knew the Covvie's policy towards noncombatants, and that was ' No such thing.'

Sebastian took a deep breath. Rage wouldn't do the mission any good. In fact it would probably get them killed, he reminded himself. This was just like every other mission. This was just another random planet, like Arcadia or Verent.

He stayed silent as the others asked their questions, watching Miranda with hard eyes as she responded to the questions.

Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#7: Nov 7th 2011 at 7:07:52 PM

The squad leader looked toward the team sniper, asking the perfectly reasonable question of the enemy forces. Minerva spread her hands, and the display zoomed in on the city. Red markers appeared in several places. "The enemy is concentrated here, mostly Elite Minors who pilot the Banshees." She said, gesturing at the refueling point. "However, there are several enemy patrols, at the powerplant," she pointed to a low building to the south of the main covenant base, with a dome top. "the highrise," now at a tall building, towering over the Covenant structure, and a perfect sniping spot, "and three roving patrols through the rest of the city." The map returned to it's full view of the city, as Minerva continued her briefing. "The patrols seem to consist mostly of Grunts, although Jackals and Elites have been noted by satellite footage."

Then, the helljumper turned to the lippy medic, who had been her problem case for the past month. "Mission situation is fluid, as usual. Stick close unless you're needed." Hopefully the medic wouldn't be. He'd be even more insufferable then usual if he was.

As she was scanning the faces of her ODSTs, she saw the look on Hazard's face. She'd read the man's file, as with the rest of the squad, and knew he was from Sigma Octanus IV. The Covenant had destroyed many planets, and a lot of marines had found their homes destroyed by the enemy that they fought so desperately. She only hope he could keep it together during the mission.

edited 7th Nov '11 7:31:29 PM by MaskedAndDangerous

rabbitRider The Sword of the Morning from Shurima Since: Mar, 2011 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
The Sword of the Morning
#8: Nov 7th 2011 at 8:55:16 PM

Hazard leaned back, observing the interface with experienced eyes. " I assume we're trying to keep this a stealth op?" He stated more than asked. " And have any vehicles been spotted in the area?" He snorted. " I'd prefer no surprise Wraiths this time."

Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#9: Nov 7th 2011 at 9:18:54 PM

Minerva, who was now beginning to place on the armored pieces of the ODST BDU, answered Sebastian's question. "Engage only if you have to. I'd prefer not to get anymore plasma burns." There was a moment of muffled silence as she slipped the chest back over her head, before starting on her leg armor. "As for vehicles, the only ones we know for sure about are the Banshees, which may or may not be fully fueled and stocked on plasma. We are going to try to avoid them."

Her leg armor sufficiently placed, the titanium outsoled boots strapped tight to the greaves. She then moved on to the shoulder armor.

Minerva always made a practice of putting her armor on in front of her troopers. It was to show them that she was just like them, and also had a powerful psychological effect. There was something about armor being put on that seemed to psych troopers up. It was macho shit, but it worked.

rabbitRider The Sword of the Morning from Shurima Since: Mar, 2011 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
The Sword of the Morning
#10: Nov 8th 2011 at 8:44:19 PM

Sebastian nodded silently in recognition as Minerva began to armor herself. It was an intimidating sight, one that would pump him up usually, but not today. Not when he was dropping onto his own planet in an hour.

He drew another handful of shotgun shells out of the ammo box that sat beside him, and began to load them one by one into the bandolier on his thigh. There wasn't much else to say, he thought as he fished another handful of ammo out of the box.

Another question occurred to him suddenly as he filled the last loop in his ammo belt, dumping the rst of the shells back into their box. He looked back at Minerva and raised an eyebrow. " Who's gonna carry the nuke?" He asked, wondering how he had missed this detail before.

As a rule, his last squad always had Flare, their explosives expert, handle the dangerous stuff. A small pang of sadness hit him as he remembered his previous squad, but he brushed it off as best he could. Now was the time for preparation, and after that came the time for action. Neither had room for grieving.

Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
Deadbeatloser22 from Disappeared by Space Magic (Great Old One) Relationship Status: Tsundere'ing
#11: Nov 9th 2011 at 8:10:56 AM

Jon sat at the back cradling his helmet.

"Sounds easy."

Of course it never is.

"Yup. That tasted purple."
Plumbum The Plum and Only from Chichester, United Kingdom Since: Jan, 2001 Relationship Status: And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
The Plum and Only
#12: Nov 9th 2011 at 8:42:08 AM

"Easy? Yeah, carrying around a nuke sounds soooo easy."

Curse the ill fortune that led you to me.
GIG Forever livid from Where I want to be Since: Feb, 2010
Forever livid
#13: Nov 9th 2011 at 11:40:05 AM

"It's simple really," Nahum chimed in. "One just has to make sure they don't drop it."

Cganale (4 Score & 7 Years Ago)
#14: Nov 9th 2011 at 2:58:40 PM

Given the answer to her question, Cynthia merely nodded and leaned back in her seat, arms crossed over her chestplate. She would download topographical and city survey maps into her HUD either just prior to the drop or once on the deck, picking out her hide from there. That tall building made an inviting option, but the Covenant would view it that way as well. If it weren't already crawling with jackals, it wouldn't take two brain cells to rub together to figure out that such a building made for an amateur's first choice.

That wasn't to say it was a bad choice. It was definitely on her list of possible hides, but as second or third, rather than first. Ideally, if there was another one of decent height near that one, that would do, as it would throw the enemy off her trail by having them think she was sniping from the taller one.

Lowering her head to rest her chin against the indented strip of metal at the top of her chestplate that bore her name, her eyes glazed partially over as she turned her thought pattern to what manner of traps and early warning systems she'd use to secure her perch, leaving one ear tuned in case of necessity.

Dragon573 Sanity not included from Sitting at a bonfire Since: Jun, 2016 Relationship Status: Wishfully thinking
Sanity not included
#15: Nov 9th 2011 at 4:08:30 PM

"That is the question. I love explosives more than the next ODST, but even I have a limited capacity, ma'am."

It's kind of funny. Sufficiently advanced stupidity is like sufficiently advanced science; eventually, you find something you can't solve.
MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#16: Nov 9th 2011 at 7:06:17 PM

Minerva's eyes flashed, as her unit was beginning to get rowdy. "Lock it down!" she said, her voice rising only enough to get the group quiet. When they had done so, she sighed. This is why she disliked replacements. It always took time to get them to work as a unit, at least in anything other then complaining. Soldier's sacred right.

Imitating rapping on a keyboard, Minerva brought up a holo. "Ladies, Gentlemen, this," It was a small black semi-sphere, roughly the size of a football. A single keypad was on it's side. "is a Havok Tac-Nuke. It's a fusion bomb, meaning it is guarenteed to ruin someone's day should it initiate." Nukes didn't detonate, they initiated. The eggheads were quite adament about that. "It also means it's one of the safest explosive devices out there. You could fire a SPNKr rocket at it, and it would not detonate without the codes. Speaking of which..." The squad leader poked the hologram twice, which faded to reveal a thirteen digit password. "Memorize this." she said.

Minerva then turned to the team's engineer. "Your up, Sparks. Your job will be to carry the nuke." It was a good idea not to put all of the squad's explosives in one basket. The Helljumper then turned to the rest of the squad. "Once we reach the city outskirts, we'll break into two fireteams, plus Envoy providing overwatch." Minerva nodded toward the sniper. She then gestured at Sebastian. "Hazard, you'll lead the second fireteam. Songbird, Barrett. You're with him." She then eyed the remaining squadmembers. Those eyes were cold as ice. "The rest of you, you're with me."

Dragon573 Sanity not included from Sitting at a bonfire Since: Jun, 2016 Relationship Status: Wishfully thinking
Sanity not included
#17: Nov 9th 2011 at 9:02:20 PM

"Yes ma'am!"

It's kind of funny. Sufficiently advanced stupidity is like sufficiently advanced science; eventually, you find something you can't solve.
rabbitRider The Sword of the Morning from Shurima Since: Mar, 2011 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
The Sword of the Morning
#18: Nov 9th 2011 at 9:34:47 PM

Hazard nodded, and saluted. " Yes ma'am." He responded, turning in his seat to take a better look at his fireteam.

The medic, "Narcissus" Barrett... He had to blink several times and look again to make sure his eyes weren't lying to him. He was... a pretty boy. And Sebastian thought that term with every ounce of contempt that he could. From the soft facial features to the... the flower on his armor, he looked nothing like any soldier Sebastian had ever seen, much less an ODST.

Christ, I hope he's a better soldier than he looks. He thought, resisting the urge to look away in disgust. At least he's the medic... He thought, trying to salvage something positive from the situation. Sighing, he turned to see his other squadmate.

Vulp, it turned out, was far better, although that wasn't saying much. Unlike Barrett, Songbird seemed to be pretty standard. The only oddity Hazard could spot was her hair, which she had at regulation length, a rule that most female ODS Ts he knew didn't follow. He hoped that it meant respect for authority or some shit like that, as long as she followed orders.

With another sigh, he turned back to Minerva. Gonna have to make lemonade outta lemons with that medic... He thought resignedly, before focusing once more on the display.

edited 9th Nov '11 10:35:56 PM by rabbitRider

Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
GIG Forever livid from Where I want to be Since: Feb, 2010
Forever livid
#19: Nov 9th 2011 at 10:06:28 PM

Cazzaro's glares didn't escape Nahum's notice, but he disregarded it. He was used to it, since if it wasn't his attitude, it was his looks. If it wasn't his looks, it was his general existence. Honestly, after the first few times, it started to get far too repetitive.

Such is my poor, poor life. Nahum sarcastically mused to himself.

Then again, it wasn't all too bad. Kiera would be coming along, and Hazard looked like he was ready to rout the Covenant himself if he so desired. Nahum decided to try to get on any semblance of good standing with him as soon as possible once they landed. It was always better to be allies with the man that could order you in to unsurvivable situations.

"Understood Ma'am."

edited 9th Nov '11 10:16:57 PM by GIG

Plumbum The Plum and Only from Chichester, United Kingdom Since: Jan, 2001 Relationship Status: And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
The Plum and Only
#20: Nov 10th 2011 at 12:52:27 PM

"Me? I mean, yes ma'am."

Great, my first assignment but I get to take care of a WMD. I'm going to like this.

Curse the ill fortune that led you to me.
MaskedAndDangerous Since: Oct, 2010
#21: Nov 14th 2011 at 5:00:20 PM

The Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle, or drop pod, is one of the UNSC's most dangerous pieces of equipment, both for it's occupant and for those who must deal with it. Objectively, being launched from space, then beginning descent from the upper atmosphere, into a hot landing zone is a very dangerous prospect, and for the ODSTs most fatalities occured inside or attempting to exit the pod. However, when done properly, the drop pod was one of the useful devices for getting soldiers on the ground, and behind enemy lines. It was nigh impossible to shoot down, enormously difficult to detect, and could get troops to a battlefield covertly with ridiculous efficiency.

Minerva pulled on her Air Assault helmet, a token of gratitude from nearly ten years earlier. She still had a lot of friends with the Airborne from that stunt she had pulled there, and they had given her the equipment as a keepsake. Of course, she had also spent a month in the hospital with more uranium in her leg then meat, and two more in physical therapy. They had had to flashgrow a replacement.

Pods were seldom recoverable, and yet were often personalized before a drop. It was often something simple, a picture of one's loved ones or a piece of home. Minerva herself had two sets of dogtags, which she hung from the pod's HUD. She gave them a glance, before strapping herself in. She breathed in, and then breathed out.

It was time to drop.


Often times, sqaud leaders within the Helljumpers play flip music, a descendent of 20th century metal. It was to give the troops an edge, give them an additional bit of adrenaline before they were dropped into a combat zone. However, Aegis was legendary for her distain for the stuff. It rotted your senses and destroyed your mind, she would say.

She had much more classical tastes.


The Fighting Words moved into optimal launching position. On her mark, the Helljumpers were launched into space, their pods being the only protection between them and a burning death. The HEVs began to glow red as they skimmed the atmosphere's surface, the thin coating of titanium-A foil beginning to boil as it did so. The heat shields held, albeit barely, as the burning pods descended into the lower atmosphere.

Over the comms, Minerva spoke to her squad. "ODSTs aren't like normal marines. Normal marines get a nice easy ride on a bird. ODSTs drop into hell boots first. Ladies and Gentlemen, WHAT IS THE KEY TO DROPPING INTO HELL?"

The creed of the Helljumpers. It's not dropping into hell, it's making sure it's full when you get there.

The squad had just enough time to give their affirmations, before the world gave a mighty jerk. Even with all the inertial dampeners in the world, Sir Isaac Newton still had to be obeyed. It felt to Aegis, as it always had, like she had just been kicked in places where the sun didn't shine by something very nasty, like a Guta.

There was a snap-hiss as the pressure seals on her pod released. She shook her head clear of the post-drop dizziness, and stepped from her pod, grabbing her weapons as she did. Throwing her M7S's strap over her shoulder, she then shouldered her DMR, and activating her HUD, TEAMBIO and COMM. Radio would be encrypted via the STARS satellite in geosync orbit overhead, but it would be best to keep it short.

"Hotel Juliet, link up at to Rally Point Beta" she said, before repeating herself once, and then silencing her COMM. Checking her map, she began moving to the agreed rally point. The mission had started.

Dragon573 Sanity not included from Sitting at a bonfire Since: Jun, 2016 Relationship Status: Wishfully thinking
Sanity not included
#22: Nov 14th 2011 at 7:26:27 PM

Moments before the drop, Songbird cast a quick glance at a photo in her pod.

Dom... she thought to herself, as she looked at a picture of herself, back when she could keep her hair long, before she'd decided to join the Marines, and her old sweetheart, a young, clean-shaven man who looked like the stereotypical studious college student.

The only thing I don't miss is that wool sweater of his...

She missed those warm summer days. She missed him more than anyone, right now, nerd or not. She pressed two fingers to her lips, then pressed them against the photograph.

"Making certain it's crowded when we get there, ma'am!" she shouted as enthusiastically as she could.

She cast a second glance at a photo in her pod, before pulling her helmet on and darkening the visor.

Song Bird immediately tuned out the music by playing an audio file in her helmet.

edited 14th Nov '11 7:28:16 PM by Dragon573

It's kind of funny. Sufficiently advanced stupidity is like sufficiently advanced science; eventually, you find something you can't solve.
rabbitRider The Sword of the Morning from Shurima Since: Mar, 2011 Relationship Status: I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
The Sword of the Morning
#23: Nov 14th 2011 at 9:34:11 PM

The inside of Hazard's pod was empty of any added luxuries, not even the small photographs or religious icons some other pods had. Right now, Sebastian had only to look at a screen to see the thing he was fighting for: home.

He sucked in a breath as the pods shook and the heat intensified, marking their entrance into the atmosphere. He didn't turn on any music, and quickly muted the gunny's selection. It wasn't that he didn't like the music, but at the moment, Hazard didn't want noise. He always savored the moments before the pods hit, the mounting levels of adrenaline, the rapid pulse of your heartbeat as possible death approached, even the heavy shaking and turbulence before the pod hit. He took another deep breath, basking in the calm before the storm.

Showtime.

He heard Aegis' shouted query over the line, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. " Make sure it's crowded when we get there." He whispered, mostly to himself.

And then the storm hit, the pod jerking like an angry mule as he landed. He barely winced as he bit his tongue(again), before the pneumatic seals hissed open.

Sebastian flexed his fingers, wrenching the assault rifle from the rack, his M90 already stowed on his back.

Emerging, his HUD instantly adapted to the lighting conditions, and he found himself in a large field of... sugar cane. He barely suppressed a shiver.

Hearing Aegis' command, he set his map for the rally point, and began to quickly move towards it through the thick rows of sugar.

Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
Cganale (4 Score & 7 Years Ago)
#24: Nov 15th 2011 at 4:42:37 PM

The thick titanium door of Cynthia's pod slammed shut with a heavy thud that reverberated in the roots of her teeth. That welcome noise symbolized the start of the mission, and she opaqued her visor in response to it. It was part of her combat mantra, in that she stayed opaqued from start to finish of a combat mission. One by one, the systems in her pod came online, status screens indicating pod integrity, mission data, and the status of the other members of her squad. As per usual, she largely ignored the screens, mentally preparing herself for the coming battle.

Her pod rumbled as the overhead rack transferred it into the outer hull of the vessel and into launch position before coming to a sudden halt as it locked into the ready position. In the upper right of her field of vision, the drop light activated, a series of five blocks of lights that changed color from green to red as the bar filled. Lifting her hands from her lap, she wrapped them around the attitude control levers mounted to either side of her hot seat, giving them gentle tugs to test their responsiveness.

A beep came from the drop light, followed by the top block winking out. The countdown tone continued, and as the second block vanished, their squad leader's pod was already in that moment of freefall before the engine at the top of the pod ignited and sent it hurtling down. That was the ODST way: squad leaders always preceded their troops into battle. The third light vanished, accompanied by the tone, and the docking clamp released her pod into the null gravity. Her stomach flipped, as it always did, at the sensation of weightlessness, but it was momentary. The fourth light vanished, leaving the fifth light to suddenly burn green, and the activation of the engine slammed her up against her harness.

The low orbital region around Sigma Octanus IV was a sight to behold. Three Covenant vessels, or what little of them was left, floated shattered around the planet's orbit, destroyed by a single UNSC vessel. That was damn near a miracle, and Cynthia held no end of respect for the captain and crew that could cause that kind of untold destruction and survive with his ship intact.

"Nice to be dropping through their wreckage for once," she remarked openly, possibly the most words this new squad had ever heard her string together at once.

She watched the debris as she passed by, and continued to observe it even as her pod entered the atmosphere, friction igniting the ablative skin and wreathing her pod in flames. She didn't look away from the destroyed vessels until she could no longer see them through the fire around her pod. This wasn't her first rodeo, and the fire didn't phase her at all; only the alert indicators of a heat shield failure could upset her.

It wasn't long before the flames died away, replaced by a shrill shrieking sound, the noise of her pod cutting through the air at faster than the speed of sound. This, like the slamming of the pod door, was another sound she relished; if she could hear the wind, she wasn't getting shot at by anti-aircraft batteries. Through her forward canopy, she could see two of the other pods from her unit, singed from their entry into the atmosphere.

She looked not down at their drop zone, but out one of the side canopies, her altitude allowing her the advantage of seeing beyond the curve of the planet, to Cote d'Azur, and the Covenant capital ship parked over it. Either it didn't know they were there, or it didn't consider less than fifteen drop pods to be worth the plasma energy. The skies around and over that city were thick with tiny black dots, had to be Phantoms and Banshees; she didn't envy the Spartans their job of taking back that nest of vipers.

Shifting her attention forward again, she prepared herself for the shock to come by pressing back as far into her seat as she could and loosening her grip on the attitude controls. A heavy thump from above, followed by a sudden and harsh deceleration, indicated her air brakes deploying. "One...two...three..." she counted slowly through clenched teeth; if a drop pod's brakes were going to fail, it would do it in the first four seconds after deployment. At six, she relaxed slightly.

The onboard computer reported, "Touchdown in one minute."

A sound similar to a cannon firing erupted from her pod as the braking thrusters fired, slowing her craft to landing speeds that approached something survivable; the blast had been her pod breaching the sound barrier. As she had been trained to do, she tucked her chin against her chest and exhaled her breath, preparing her body for the shock of landing.

The impact of pod and ground struck her like a hammerblow, the bottom of the pod crushing to disperse the impact pressure the way it had been designed to. Her training overcame the shock of impact before her mind did, and she reached up with both fists to slam them against the pairs of arming devices on both sides of her pod. The explosive bolts blasted her canopy away as she slapped the quick-release on her harness with her left hand, her right reaching across her to yank the DMR free.

She jumped from the pod and landed in a ready crouch, sweeping the one-eighty arc before her for any hostile threats. Picking up nothing on the threat-detection imaging in her helmet, she stepped to her right, reached back her left hand while keeping her eyes forward and her rifle ready, and pulled her delivery tool, her sniper rifle, from its rack, attaching it to the magnetic plate on her back.

As she was doing this, the order came in to proceed to the rally point, and she flashed a green acknowledgement light before proceeding in that direction, keeping her eyes, ears, and sensors tuned to any out-of-place activity.

edited 16th Nov '11 12:20:01 PM by Cganale

GIG Forever livid from Where I want to be Since: Feb, 2010
Forever livid
#25: Nov 16th 2011 at 12:04:25 AM

Nahum never really got used to the shock of impact. Despite jump after jump, he was always seemed to forget how violent the sudden impact was.

This jump was no exception, with landing leaving him stunned for a second before he could release himself. After making sure the area was clear and shaking out the cobwebs, he took stock of his surrounding.

Grassy fields? Well isn't this just cliche. He chuckled to himself. Oh well, better to land somewhere with a few moments of peace.

Retrieving his weapons and medical equipment (and checking his teeth to see if they had been chipped), Narcissus headed out to the rally point with his rifle in hand.

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