"Y'know." Connor began, leaning up against the cryo pod that had, up until a few hours ago, housed him. "This ship is never fuckin' quiet, but it's real goddamn loud today."

"You think it has something to with the fact that thousands of soldiers are all beginning to prepare for deployment?" Sofia retorted, sarcastically. She, unlike her Corpsman, was already in her BDU. She was composed, well-kempt, not at all like Webley. Connor could not look messier if he were trying.

"Look, I'm not asking for them to be quiet, I'm just wondering if they coul-" He was interrupted by the sound of a crate being dropped, followed by shouting. Connor rolled his eyes, stood up, and walked past the rows of empty cryo pods, to the room's entrance. Then, he shouted. "I'm just wondering if any of these Jarheads could use their fucking inside voices!"

"Connor, do you ever shut up?"

"Gee, I dunno Sarge, do you ever manage to get the stick out of your ass?"

"Go get your BDU and your gear, meet me in the Hangar."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Hopefully headed to the Hangar, too. We leave in less than an hour."

"Oh boy. I'm ever-so-excited to go and die for a lifeless rock."

"You're from ED-2. Where's your Outtie pride and solidarity?"

"I just think it's stupid to try and recapture a planet we can't live on when there're other Colonies that need defending."

"Careful with that shit, Webley. You never know when the spooks are listening."

"Spooky."

"Ha. That's real funny." Vargas pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Go get your shit together, Conn." To her surprise, the Corpsman actually started moving.

"Whatever you say, Sarge."

Private Ralf Thann

"That ought to do it." A rather hollow bang emits when Ralf bonks on the helmet of a fellow Private within the armoury. Having already suited up for action himself, he spent the little time the Marine's had to spare before deployment on helping fellow comrades to get ready with their BDU's. Another Private hands Ralf an Assault Rifle.

"Thanks. Short and controlled bursts with these beauties. Enough to make a tunnel hole right through the Squids faces." Ralf says as he is given the rifle, and continues with giving the Private a pat on the shoulder. "See you down there in the mud."

Seeing how the other Marines within the vicinity were pretty much ready, he grabs his Ammunition bag and slings his Assault Rifle on the back. Ralf continues with heading over to the magazine locker and begins to supply the bag with extra ammunition for various weapons. Ralf had been designated as the Ammunition Carrier for the squad. SAW was the Machine Gun that Ralf would be feed with bullets. He didn't know the person who would be operating it, not that it mattered. The SAW mags were heavy for ammunition, so he had to adjust and plan the amount of mags that was going into the bag. It didn't take much time to do this little chore as he had already done it countless of times in Boot Camp. It helped for the 'Cryo-Lag', as he had christened it, to be busy and focused on work. Instead of being nausea's and prepped for vomit-projectiles. As memories of his time within the Boot-Camp had passed, his mind became curious about whom he will be in squad with. Only way to find out is to find out, simple as that, he thought. As the bag was filled, he made his way to the designated Hangar where Ralf would meet his team. The green Private was both excited and somewhat nervous for the following hours to come.

UNSC Eternity Abroad
---------------------------------

"Get yer grubby hands off that!" Corporal Tai yelled as he leaned across one of the many tables in the ready-room, "You know how fucking hot that shit burns? It'd go right through the deck and out the bottom of the ship in a minute flat and their ain't nothing damage control could do to stop it, it even burns without oxygen so spacing a deck would be useless and your sorry ass would be stuck in the room with all this shit you caused going on!" Tai yelled as he grabbed his only thermite grenade from the Private at his front. With a flick of the wrist Tai sent the grenade spinning into the air, the distraught look on the Private's face grew as Tai seemed to miss catching the grenade and it struck the floor with a thud. For a moment all those around him were silent, and even a pin drop could have been heard in their ready room. Then Tai began laughing.

Banging an open palm on the table Tai would laugh as the Marines around him seemed to awkwardly shuffle in place and begin to go back to preparing for their imminent drop, "Don't worry about it, that shit wouldn't go off unless I really wanted it to." he'd reassure the now wide-eyed private in front of him before retrieving the grenade and placing it in a vest pocket.

Not waiting for the Privates response, Tai turned to a locker on the wall that read "CPL TAI". With a few button presses and fingerprint the locker unlocked with a click and Tai gave it a kick causing the door to slowly swing open. He reached inside and grabbed the rest of his armor and a few other small belongings before heading down the hall of the ready-room to the armory at the far side.

"Name and serial number, hand on the scanner." the voice of the armorer beckoned to him even before he had really reached the armory window.

"Tai, Edwin M35886-21M35-13257-AA/S." Tai stated as he placed his hand on the scanner. The armored seemed to mumble at a display that Tai couldn't read and moved with a bit of a purpose as he disappeared into the depths of the armory. After nearly three minutes of waiting Tai began to hear what sounded like an unusually laden cart being moved through a tight space, the incessant clatter of a nut that wasn't quite snug and the ever so subtle clanging of metal hitting metal when it wasn't supposed to gave way to the armored returning witha cart full of goodies.

"MA5B... M6E... One satchel charge... and a good old M41 with six rockets... Just what the fuck do you do again?" the armorer asked in his monotone voice that made him seem as uninterested as could be.

"Anti-armor." Tai replied as he adjusted the strap on the M41 and loaded to of the six rockets into the chambers. Ensuring his rocket launcher was on safe he slung it over his back and took the M6E, loading a magazine and checking its safety again he shoved it into the holster at his right thigh and reached for the satchel whcih he attached to the back of his armor at the belt line a little offset as to allow him to sit comfortably. He grabbed the MA5B and loaded a magazine before placing it back on the table.

"The rest of them." the armorer said as he placed a few stacks of magazines on the windows counter.

"Appreciate it." he said as he began stuffing the magazines into their respective pouches. Rifle in hand, M41 on his back, and feeling over a hundred pounds heavier, Tai made his way to the hangar that had been designated as his teams departure point with a smile on his face. Nothing made him feel safer than high explosives.

_{UNSC Eternity Abroad
0645 hrs
March 3rd, 2526}

---

"Goddamn." Roland muttered coldly and quietly as he ambled around, BDU strapped up and on, with the chest plate's straps still hanging loose and his helmet fastened by its chinstrap to his battle belt. "Need fuckin' earplugs to even walk around in here." He said, louder this time, not that it could be effectively heard over the din. He stood near the assembly area where the Marines would organize by company, and then into platoons to board their Pelicans.

He glanced around. No gas here, no gas there, open flight deck and a couple engineers on their smoke break nearby. He took the answer to his silent question and tugged at a plastic carton tucked into a pouch secured behind his chest plate. Once flicked open, he retrieved a rather worn down butane lighter and a good ol' Lucky Strikes. Popping it between his lips, he flicked at the lighter's striker until it produced a flame. He shielded his hands over the flame and held it to the death-stick, the end glowing a volcanic red.

With a quiet click he stowed the lighter and then the carton, and placed one hand upon the cigarette, grasping it between his index and middle finger, and using his other hand to idly tug at the balaclava which was pulled down and ruffled around his neck. His MA5 swung idly at his hip, the mag well empty, and his M6 was in its holster but not secure.

Seemed he was early, he mused. Briefing didn't start for another 15 minutes, as his combat-proof watch fastened over his sleeve on his right arm demonstrated. So he glanced around, observing the armor which he'd known so well, studying over the details again. His name was neatly stenciled on the front of his chest plate and the back, and on his helmet. He wore two pairs of tags as standard. Around his neck, a pair with silencers clearly demonstrated his name, rank, blood type, religious preference, and gas mask size, as was standard. An identical set was secured into his shoes. He hated to have known what it was all for. Printed in a uniform fashion on his left pauldron was his blood type, AB+, in large black letters. The opposing pauldron housed a single stripe, the mark of a PFC.

And it soon bored him even more. He finally ambled up to the rows of folding chairs that doubled as a briefing and assembly area. There were at least enough chairs present for an entire company. And each and every row was sectioned off by platoon and then subdivided into squads. Finding his squad's area, he lowered himself into the seat and pulled his chestplate tight, glancing at his watch as he snuffed the now entirely smoked cigarette, disposing of the butt. 10 til briefing. He leaned back and waited.

Sargent Victor Romanov

// Location: Cryogenics bay >> Armory >> Hangar Bay //

The thaw was always a pain in the ass for him, most of his discomfort was either caused by dry itchy skin or the texture of that lime flavored mucus he was nearly forced to ingest. At least the Cryo bay was as cold and as crisp as the metal walk ways would allow, the sensation did wake him up a bit. The man looked around, most of the lower ranking members were only just beginning their wake up cycle. He had gotten permission earlier to have an early wakeup call only by a half hour, so he was waking up with the officers.

Romanov made his way at a brisk pace past the other pods and towards the ready room, saluting the odd officer as they walked past. He made it to his locker in a few minutes Pressing his finger against the lock and waiting for it to come open. The first two things he got on where his briefs and his socks. He never wore anything during Cryo some insisted wearing underwear at least, but he never wanted to risk those blisters again, or freezer burn as some called it.

It had only taken him a few more minutes to get dressed, he did take a long look at the picture taped to the locker door. An old photo of one of the times he visited home on leave, it was a picture of him and his sister. The locker room was beginning to fill with some others while Victor secured the protective armor plating on his uniform, it was heavy, but he liked it made him feel like one of the knights of old earth. Stepping out of the Ready room and down toward the armory the man glanced about the others who were walking past, New and old blood alike some had weary faces while others were more excited. Most knew what was coming, what the next step was, either way this was either going to be the biggest success of the UNSC and even humanity for that matter or the biggest farce.

He waited for a moment in line the other officers wanted to get their gear out first before the hoard of foot soldiers finished their wake up cycle. One by one the others grabbed their gear and left until it was finally his turn. The Armorer just looked at him as Victor put his hand up to a scanner and spoke his serial number so that the pad could pick it up. “Sargent Victor Romanov SN: 25486-15S58K-15864” the other man checked his side of the screen and nodded before taking a cart through some isles, in a few minutes the man returned with Victors Custom M739 SAW. He calls it custom but really it just has a flat black paint job and not the nickel finish like the base ones. He was also given M6G pistol, ammo for both of his weapons, a combat knife, two smoke grenades, and two frag grenades.

Walking back towards the hangar bay the marine stopped by the mess hall briefly, they didn’t have full meals prepared but did have a snack bar set up. A few others were picking through what was there as well, he didn’t stick around long only long enough to pick up a few flavorless nutrition bars and chocolate flavored protein bars. He stuck a few of the protein bars in his pack and ate the nutrition bars on the way to the hangar bay. He had a half hour to kill before the briefing, and he figured he would do it where he was comfortable, the belly of a pelican.

There were a few pelicans nearby with most of the others on higher decks or still locked up, he found a seat on the ramp of one while the pilot and copilot were going through their pre-flight checks. Neither seemed to mind the tall marine, this was after all his favorite spot to sit and relax. It wasn’t all that comfortable, he was out of the way and could see those who were entering and sitting down in the briefing room. Yet for him, this was the spot he would go and sit at while he was still with the Epsilon Eridani Fleet, just one of his old habits. While he sat and waited he pulled out a small square device from his pack, the device was a music player all one had to do was hold a button and say the name of a song and it would play. It wasn’t very loud but it did contain his entire library of old earth songs he has found, so as he ate the last nutrition bar he spoke to the box and it began to play, Zach Hemsley - Into the valley

The two going through their flight checks only stopped for a moment to look back at him, muttered a few words between each other, and continued with their work. Honestly he didn’t care what others thought as long as he didn’t play any that were blacklisted for whatever reason he’s never been bothered about it by any officers. Somehow he was able to kill all but 15 minutes of down time before the mission briefing and hadn’t taken all that much notice to the others who came in to the hangar bay. He figured he should find his place before he is unable to walk through the crowd. He found his place designated by the small signs on the chairs and found that one of his squad mates was already sitting down in the chair, Victor noticed the rank on the marines shoulder causing him to impulsively glance at his. Still, the man walked down to his seat a few chairs off from the other man and glanced over at him, “Sledgehammer?” He inquired while turning his music off and adjusting himself in his seat.

"Fox, Emily, 59891-31225-EF." Emily still wondered how she could remember that, and pondered over it until the armourer placed her M392 as well as an M6G and pair of frag grenades down on the counter, followed by quite a few magazines. Her pouches were quickly stuffed, before stood aside to wait for Holly. After meeting in the cryo chamber, the two had already grown to become friends. The younger marine apparently had a brother serving in the Marines, and privately Emily wondered if he would be somewhere in the fleet - there was a fair chance of it, it looked like a lot of assets were being deployed on this operation.

"So, you were saying?" Holly asked, as she slung her weapons onto her back and slid her pistol into her holster. Emily eyed the amount of gear that the girl was carrying, before starting to walk with her in the direction of the hangar. She had probably been looking a bit too closely, because Holly laughed. "Don't worry about it, I can handle this stuff."

The two walked together as Emily told some stories of her career and her life, and Holly told some of her own stories in return. It was soon that they reached the hangar, walking toward the chairs. Looking around, Holly suddenly stopped, eyes fixing on someone she thought she recognised, before her eyes widened a little. She raised her hand, pointing at Victor Romanov himself. "That's him, that's my brother. What on earth is he doing here?"

"I'm surprised he was assigned aboard the same ship as you," Emily replied. It was a bit of a surprise, there was somewhat of a chance he's be assigned to the same operation but the same ship?

Holly approached her brother, who was trying to talk to someone else. She tapped him on the shoulder from behind. "Excuse me, Sergeant. You haven't been sending me any mail lately," she said, a big grin on her face. Emily, behind Holly, giggled softly.

Many were taking their assigned seats in the hangar. Some were chatting in anticipation for the event ahead, whilst others sat with their hands on their lap, silent, eyes searching for friends among the many. Major Nathan Noir had seen it all before, and unless he died, he would see it all again. He could understand their anticipation, their excitement for the oncoming action, however he knew that the road ahead was going to be slow, and that they may not all make it out.

Major Noir let them continue on their chatter for another few minutes, allowing them to release their thoughts into the air. Finally, the captain stepped onto a mini-stage that stood in front of the chairs. Those that saw the major doing so went silent, others going silent as he cleared his throat, resting his hands behind his back in parade rest.

"I am sure that each of you has once told a story in your life that is exaggerated, is over the top. You may have told a story of yourself standing before all odds and coming out on top, a story where you have completed some extraordinary deeds. You have told a story where you are a hero, you are some badass, but you are the main character of your own little story."

"In a few weeks, you will be telling a new story. You will still be the hero, you will still be a badass. The only difference is that this time, the story will be true. You will have kicked the Covenant back on their heels, you will have stood against all odds together with your brothers and sisters in arms."

"You will not all make it, not in your physical form. Your spirit, your confidence, and your devotion to your duty will, and it will be what keeps us pushing forward. I want you all to push your hardest, and beat those Covenant bastards back to whatever piss hole that they came from."

"They may hit you with whatever plasma bullshit they have, but we will hit them back with lead, rockets, grenades, and pure fucking determination. We'll create a new river on Harvest, the river of their blood that will form as we fill them with holes and stand triumphant!"

"Your deployment orders have been passed through the chain of command to your squad leaders. We will be the first boots on the ground. Mount up in your pelicans, and you show those alien mother fuckers what it's like to mess with the Marines! Dismissed!"

Private Ralf Thann

---

"Your deployment orders have been passed through the chain of command to your squad leaders. We will be the first boots on the ground. Mount up in your pelicans, and you show those alien mother fuckers what it's like to mess with the Marines! Dismissed!"

"Hoo-rah!" Echoed Ralf alongside the other Marines as the Major finished his speech. The private was the last to arrive of the squad, the Sledgehammers. He liked the name, had power in it. Before the speech began, he had quietly offered the rest of the squad a nod, acknowledging them. As they made way for the designated pelican that would descend them down onto surface, he scanned his brothers-and-sisters in arms, making sure he would recognize their looks should the need for it arise. No words came out of him during the walk however, a rare sight. It was just now it hit him that he would soon meet the Covenant face-to-face. He could die even. The thought had never really affected him much, but now it did. He 'scanned' his squadmates one last time, fearing it might be the last time Ralf would see faces that didn't have a look of dread upon them.

As the group arrived to the Pelican, Ralf positioned himself accordingly alongside the others, awaiting potential words from their squad-leaders.