Halo: Starfall over Requiem [IC]

[Skryte]

Cast sat on an ammunition crate in one of Infinity's massive hangers. Marine squads ran to their rally points, Spartan Fireteams walked to theirs, Warthogs and Scorpion tanks drove. Above, Pelicans were carrying crates of weapons and ammo to points in the hanger that were found lacking in munitions. Longsword Fighter-Bombers and Broadsword Intercepters were being fueled and armed, the Pelicans transferring the cannon shells and missiles that they would be using.
Cast sat alone, next to a heavily modified Pelican, waiting for Spectre Alpha. Not even Skyeye was there yet, he was probably still in a Cafeteria grabbing snacks, he tended to bring snacks along, not that Cast was complaining.
"Bored?" A female voice asked, Cast reached to the back of his head and took out the AI Chip. He held it in front of him, and a holographic woman of asian decent appeared. She was in modified Mark-II SPI Armor, with her helmet on the 'floor'. She was a bright green color. She played with her long, shoulder blade length hair.
"I suppose so, I've never actually been in a ship this big before." Cast replied,
"Few have, the Infinity is the UNSC's largest ship." The AI stated,
Cast nodded softly, "Any word on Jazz and the rest of the crew?"
"No..."
"We'll hear from them eventually." Cast said, the AI agreed and the hologram switched off. Cast placed the chip back into his head. A moment passed before a squad of Marines ran to Cast, they stopped in a line in front of him and saluted. These Marines were nicely equipped, VISR Tech, they were geared like ODSTs.
"Rex Squad, 12 Marines strong, ready for action!" The squad leader said. Cast merely looked at them, after a moment, he took a look at his wrist, where a watch would be, though there was no watch. They stood there for about 10 minutes before Cast said, "Damn guys, after five I would expect you guys to relax. Relax."
The 12 Marines did. One of them walked up to Cast, "When are we going to head out? I heard there was going to be a big op, we going on that mission?"
"Not exactly. We'll be launching around the same time as them, depending on how long it takes for Spectre Alpha to assemble. We're going to be several kilometers away from the major battle site, securing a large LZ, so the Infinity could set up a field hospital and FOB there." Cast explained, "More details when we're on the Pelican."

[Caelum]

Josh blinked, bored beneath his helmet. He marched through the halls of the ship, making his way towards one of the many large hangers of Infinity. In his right hand was his rifle- an MA5B. In his left was nothing, really. His heavy armor clanked with each step of the ship, marching past crew members and marines a plenty as he pushed through the doors to the hanger. He scanned the massive place carefully, scouting out his target...

Found it. Him, it. Whatever. He found his target. With a heavy thud, he took a seat next to Cast.

"Hey." He said, sitting, facing away from him. "Where the hell is everybody else?" He asked, obviously referring to a lack of Spectre Alpha around.

"Would be a shame if we ended up late." He joked, chuckling. He slid off his helmet, rubbing his gloved hand along his head as he looked about.

He turned his head slightly, looking at the Marines that were lined up. "These ours? Not bad." He mutters.

[Vena Sera IV]

Sitting in the armory, Frost made one more rudimentary weapons check, not wanting a malfunction on the field. When he was assured his gear was working, he holstered his pistol, slung his Battle Rifle on his back, and with helmet in hand made his way towards the hangar to meet the rest of Spectre Alpha. He was eager for this mission in earnest. Though he wouldn't be working with his usual squad, this was his first opportunity to work with Spartan's, a chance he'd been pining for since one came to his aid. Finally finding the correct hangar, he took a moment to appreciate just the sheer scale of the ship. Sure, he had been on a Frigate before, but none were as large as Infinity's hulking frame. It always filled him with a sense of pride and awe, knowing humanity could achieve such things.

After a moment to himself, he searched for his teammates, and sure enough found two of the Spartans he'd be working with, Cast and Josh. Unable to conceal an eager grin, he made his way to them, passing a few greetings to the marines gathered nearby. "Finally found you two." he mused, leaning against a stack of crates, setting his helmet on top. "This dang ship is so big, gotta admit I get lost sometimes." Chuckling at his own lack of direction, he passed a curious glance at the Spartans. He often wondered how they viewed themselves, knowing a good portion of Marines regarded them as super-human. I wonder if they get annoyed by that, he wondered. Must be a bit annoying, all that attention.

[Corporal Lance]

Cpl Denisov was doing what he did before every mission he did. Before anything stressful he was about to do, really. He was goofing off and lounging around. It was almost a tradition. There was nothing he could do about what was about to happen, so he might as well put himself in a relaxed state of mind instead of stressing himself out. He happened to be hanging around with one of the Petty Officers on ship, a HM2 Jones, Corpsman. Turned out they both loved martial arts and had some face time with the Prometheans at least once.
"So there I was, stitching some new kid back together from some laser or 'hardlight' or whatever the fuck it is wounds," the sailor began in a voice of bravado, "when one of those sons of bitches dog-lookin' things comes straight for me. Bites me in the arm, takes a clean chunk out. So this gets me by surprise and I flinch a little. Now, normally at this point I'd be dead, but I must have got lucky cuz that kid happened to have nerves of steel and pulled his sidearm and shot it right in the face. Boom. Gone. But then out comes three more and they all start to go all wolfpack on our asses, right? But this kid actually stands up with fresh stitches in his legs and puts a round in every one of those Goddamn things. Pop pop! Down they go! Bravest motherfucker I've ever seen, hands down!"
Nikolai laughed a little and nodded before starting his own story. "Not bad, but I've got a better one," he stated, standing up for this one. His thick accent flowed from his lips naturally. "So I'm doing an Overwatch job. Fairly normal stuff. I'm recon, I'm a badass, I know. Ladies hold your orgasms." This got the Corpsman to chuckle a bit before Cpl Desinov continued. "But this one motherfucker has the biggest balls I've ever seen. I'm just watching these guys get nailed, but there's nothing much I can do about it but start dropping bodies from my hilltop position. They get overrun by those squid head bastards and start to fall back to regroup for vehicular support. All but this one guy, who didn't get the message. You see where I'm going with this, don't you? He gets fucking surrounded by Elites and draws his knife. I'm thinking 'Is this dipshit serious?' and so I start covering him as he's fighting these gigantic motherfuckers in hand to hand combat. I drop a couple and he actually takes one out by himself, which was pretty fucking cool to watch. Got him right in the eye. Anyway, a Banshee shows up and starts raining down hellfire, so I adjust my sights. I'm the only one who can destroy this bitch, y'know? Anyways, I shoot it down, takes me almost a full three minutes to do it, and I snap to where that one unlucky motherfucker was. But he's not there. For three fucking minutes, this guy was fighting squid heads in hand to hand combat and doing it so well that he gained the next cover point and the rest of his squad came back with the Warthog to save his ass!"
"Ho-lee shit!"
"Yeah! I talked to him about it later, and he thought he was down there fighting for maybe a minute. When I told him I was his Guardian Angel and he was down there for 6 he almost shat his pants!"
"Damn. That's a fucking hero right there."
"Yeah. Nice dude. Likes Scotch. His name's Sgt Mendoza. If you see him, buy him a round."

It was at this point that Cpl Denisov noticed a small group forming. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but most groups don't have full plate armor. Spartans. Two of them and a gaggle of Marines. By the looks of their movements, the way they all saluted at once, and the fact that he could hear them over Longsword maintenance half-a-bay away told him they were fresh off the yellow footprints. He bit his tongue and shook his head. Picking up his helmet, he went to move before shooting Jones a look.
"I've got to go. I'll see you later," his accent bled out.
"Don't make it too soon Devil!" the Corpsman ribbed him. Nikolai turned around with his hands out to his sides and a small smirk.
"I'd like to think I'm better than that!" he called before turning around. He shook his head again before jamming his helmet on. Cpl Denisov was in his desert cammies still, half-geared for battle. They had a bit, so he saw no rush. His sleeves were halfway up and his elbow pads were on, but his gloves were still in his pockets. His flak hung off him loosely, not strapped in the front at all and the blousings were already off his boots. But he was recon. Recon does as recon pleases. He took care to half-hazardly do up the front of his flak before he got to the group.
"So I guess that's how we report in, huh?" he spoke up as he approached them from behind. He put a hand on his tac pad to function check it, and it worked. The squad leader's name and rank popped up on his visor in front of his face. A PFC Short. Perfect. A PFC in charge of a full squad.
"You must be out of your fuckin' mind, right?" Cpl Denisov loved fucking with lower ranks. It's really the only time he got to feel rank make an impact. Hell, he'd probably never see staff at the rate he was heading, might as well enjoy what you had. They needed some kind of leadership anyway.
"Short!" he barked.
"Yes Corporal!" was his immediate response.
"Give me your weapon."
"S-say again?" he stuttered.
"I said weapon, now," Nikolai said more forcefully. The squad leader hastily brought his weapon up, racked the bolt back, peered up and and handed it to him. "Clear!"
Cpl Denisov snatched it from him immediately. "At least you did that part right..." he muttered. He peered up it himself and sent the bolt home. "Because your squad leader here doesn't care about you all enough to learn how to report in properly, I'm going to teach you how. So pay attention." Cpl Denisov looked Cpt Cast dead in the forehead and took a step forward, quickly snapping his other foot to smack it with his heel in the position of attention. He had seen him before. They were on just one ship for a while, of course he'd seen him before. Still, he didn't know what to expect of him yet. His arm shot up to smack the barrel of the weapon as he lowered it quickly to his right side, aligned with his foot. Bringing his left arm across his body, his fingers straight and conjoined, he touched the tip of the compensator.
"Good morning, Sir. Cpl Denisov, Alpha Spectre Squad, Alpha Platoon, 42nd MEU reporting as ordered," he said strongly and firmly, without screaming it like the boot did. He then turned his head to face the rest of them, breaking attention.
"And you all don't salute. You just stand there like idiots at attention, okay?" He threw the PFC's rifle back to him and much to Nikolai's amusement he almost dropped it. He raised a knifehand to their squad leader while looking at the rest of the group.
"This is your leader in combat?" he asked. He shook his and began to casually step toward the Captain while still facing the Marines. "Don't worry, Rex Squad. I'm Overwatch, so I'll keep you alive because no one else will."

He looked at how nervous they were and decided he was done fucking with them.
"I'm fucking joking. Get the sticks out of you asses," he said lightheartedly. "Welcome to combat. We don't get too much fun out here, so enjoy what you have got." After taking a second to reflect, he spoke up again. "But that reporting in shit was really how you're supposed to do it. Remember that next time." The Marines relaxed and so did Nikolai, fishing into the ammo crate that Capt Cast was sitting on for some mags to put in his flak.
"So like I said. I'm going to be your Overwatch for this op," he began telling Cast as he checked his mags for rounds and integrity, slipping them in his pouches. "I'm guessing we've already done recon because we're setting up so close already, and that from all those Longswords it won't be very quiet. So I figured you'd have to be a fool to task me out with the grunts since I only do recon and Overwatch, so I made the obvious choice. Maj Daily sends his regards."
He wasn't actually sure if Maj Daily knew this other guy, but they were both officers over infantry, he assumed. There weren't too many of those. He turned to the other NCO there. He didn't recognize him, but he recognized ODST. He was a Sgt, so that was good. You don't make it to Sgt in ODST without some experience.
"Good to see another Marine here with some combat experience." He reached out to shake the guys hand. His visor told him his name was Frost. He reached back in the crate to pull out an M6, and he looked it over and even racked it back and dry fired to test it. "Hopefully those boots don't get themselves killed. I don't want to babysit them the whole time, either." He glanced over at the Sgt, "Maybe you should go teach them a few tricks of the trade? It might calm the down a bit. That squad leader's motivated enough, but he's not confident and he'll crack like an egg under fire." That was just a little something Cpl Denisov observed. He continued to check his gear now that he had gotten around to it and grabbed some frags. His rifle was on the Pelican already.
"So tell me Sir, what did Recon have to say about this LZ we're getting? We got numbers and capabilities?" his accent oozed.

[Vena Sera IV]

Frost shook Denisov's hand generously, offering a friendly yet curt smile in response. "Likewise Corporal, it's a relief that not all the boots will be green it seems. And we won't be babysitting them I assure you, have some faith in these men." Standing up and removing his Battle Rifle from his sling, he leisurely rested it upon his shoulder, walking amongst the Marines casually. A bit of OCD, he made sure all of their body armor was secure, ammunition was in check, and everyone's comms were online.

"Men, always remember to check your gear before an operation." Frost started out, raising his voice slightly to get the group's attention. "I'm not here for intel nor am I here to do the heavy lifting, that honor belongs to the Spartans" he added, nodding towards Cast and Josh. "My job is to make sure you guys perform as needed, that we don't go running in with dud gear, and..." he paused, glancing at two Marines whispering to one another. Grinning, he removed his pistol from it's holster, shooting at the ground by their feet and giving them a small scare. "To make sure that we all get back in one piece. I don't lose men on missions, so let's keep it that way, aye?" Holstering his pistol, he grabbed his helmet and slung it on, retracting the visor to make speaking easier. "Don't dissapoint me boys, we've got a lot to do and a little time to do it. So let's get down to Requiem and show those Hinge-Jaws how you wage war!" He couldn't help but grin at the cheer of the men, seeing they were at least a bit eager to kick some Covenant butt.

"So that's my little bit for now, we'll cover what you'll need to do once we're on the ground. But for now, Captain? Mind giving the men the gist of our task?"

[Skryte]

Cast watched Denisov's show, he nudged Josh with his elbow, "I like this guy already", Cast remarked over a private channel, external speakers off.

"So like I said. I'm going to be your Overwatch for this op,I'm guessing we've already done recon because we're setting up so close already, and that from all those Longswords it won't be very quiet. So I figured you'd have to be a fool to task me out with the grunts since I only do recon and Overwatch, so I made the obvious choice. Maj Daily sends his regards." Denisov said,

Cast looked to the side, he had no idea who Major Daily was, he just put it to the side of his mind, "I'll have you shoot the big guys. Bigger game for the better hunter." Cast remarked.


"So tell me Sir, what did Recon have to say about this LZ we're getting? We got numbers and capabilities?" Denisov asked, Sang brought up a clock, not all of Spectre Alpha was there. A second later, Frost asked as well. Cast shrugged and began.
"Well, we're taking a plateau. Very little cover, so we're going to have to utilize mobile shields. Take Hardlight Shield gauntlets, bubble shields, whatever, we'll have Pelicans dropping cover for us, but personal shielding is cool to have. Trust me, we Spartans know." Cast explained, "Cover from the Pelicans is that." Cast pointed at a large mechanical spear like object leaning on a wall. "Fired like a rocket, spears the ground, opens up, wham we have an energy shield. Dimensions are about 6 feet wide, 4 feet tall." Cast reached behind him and took out a mobile holographic projector, a small map of the plateau appeared. The center was a mass of red dots. Obviously the enemy, figures of Storm Covenant watchtowers, blocks and weapon blocks were everywhere. There were at least 20 Wraiths, which were going to be bombarding the main assault force. "I don't think I need to say much about their numbers, they outnumber us by a lot. But we'll have Air Support, lots of it. Take laser designators if you want to call down some airstrikes. This is supposed to be a quick operation, drop fast, kill fast, have a bit of fun with the airstrikes and try not to get hit by Wraith balls." Cast said, "Our main objective is to kill anything hostile on that plateau and have a bit of fun while doing it. Oh, do note that we won't have air support for forever, their objective is to take out the buildings and Wraiths." Cast got off the ammo crate and walked over to an equipment crate, taking out a Hardlight shield gauntlet and a laser designator. "A few tips, when lazing targets on this mission, try and get as much infantry as you can, less work for us. Aside from that, intel is often wrong. I expect about twice the amount of Wraiths, a squadron of Banshees, AA, fun stuff like that.

[Caelum]

"Here I was thinking we were going to be doing something hard..." Josh says with a chuckle, pulling his helmet back over his head and grabbing a laser designator for himself. He grabbed a bubble shield as well, before tossing his assault rifle with a cling onto the magnetic clips of his back.

"Try not to shoot yourselves in the foot." He growls with a chuckle, rolling his shoulder. He looked behind him, back towards the other Spartan. In his mind, he thought about the mission ahead of them... It wasn't going to be easy, by any means, for these grunts, and he had no doubt at least half of them would be coming back... halves. Either that, or dust. But with Niko...Whatever his name was, they should be fine.

"Who are we waiting for?" He grumbles, taking a few steps over towards the Pelican. He looked it over, smirking. "And do we get to keep the bird?" He jokes with a chuckle.

[revan427]

As if on cue, a Spartan strides over to the group, wearing a heavily outdated mix match of MJOLNIR Mark V and Mark IV armor, both of which appear to not have been repaired in years, it's a wonder they are compatible, let alone functioning.

He appears to be lost, or at least searching for something as the Spartan approaches them with his awkward gait, "Hey guys! Uh, hey, listen, I was just wondering...uhm... never mind." T-77 claps his hands together, "So! Mission huh? Fun? Gonna blow things up? That's great..." His head turns towards the group arrayed before him, examining them quickly before opening his mouth yet again, "So...new models huh? Great...meet mum yet?" He points to the marines that stood near cast, "Nice tech, Hell-droppers."

T-77 sweated under his helmet, breathing heavily, trying to calm to his cool. This would've been easier if it were a combat situation, plasma and lead flying over his head would've made things easier for him, at least everyone didn't focus their attention on him in those moments. With a deep breath, his heartbeat slowed, his face ceased to be red. The Spartan quickly turned his trembling lip into a smirk, and awaits the answer.

Uh-oh. The mere thought of making yet another mistake made his heartbeat rise faster and faster. No Spartan makes a mistake. Gulping, he exhales, and hides his tremble as he asks, "So...did I miss the briefing, sir?"