A echo of bustling boots and hunkered attires made its way in and out of the deployment hall. The Stranger of Darkness rumbled with the muffled sounds of explosions from what seemed to be outside of the ship's hull. There was no doubt that atmospheric Banshees and Seraphs were assaulting the ship's hull with as much prejudice as possible. Yet the vessel was still intact, so that was enough to make the occupants feel safe for a while. Those on the ground already engaging in their fights must be suffering heavily, though there were many areas on the surface of Oman where victories were being made by the UNSC. The surprise attack had worked mostly, and the assistance from the early reconnaissance teams prior to the invasion saved many lives from ambushes. However, there was still the threat of the Covenant, even if their presence was known. That was what the UNSC were here for. That's why they wanted to find out what why they lurked on this Shield-world.
"Spark, on your feet. We're dropping in 1 minute." A slap around the head snapped Lucas out of his trance, where he was met with Lucinda Graham, his Gunnery Sergeant, staring at him blankly. She was in her own combat-zone, where her mind would only focus on the objectives and nothing else. No social time. No interactions. That was her downside sometimes, loosening her connections with the others in Squad Chariot 9-4. She once again nodded at him, handing Lucas his specialised helmet. Lucas reached out his gloved hand, taking what he was given and reattaching the H.M.S.S onto the mount.
Little time passed before he was back on his feet, pushing past a few ODSTs still in their briefing to reach his designated pod. The drop was always considered a fun or tense moment in the lives of and Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, but for once this tensions was getting to Lucas Hickery. He didn't feel nervous his own life, by no means. It was the lives of everyone here. This mission, it seemed to be more of a scrambled objective than a real operation. Either way, he had his orders, and he had his moment to shine. When he eventually reached the infamous box that threw soldiers from the sky, his hand firmly grasped the edge of the entrance before pulling himself inside. The seat was always quite comfortable, and it had to to ensure their arse's wouldn't be torn to shreds after a drop. It only took a few button-pressing for the doors to close themselves, his weapons already clung to the sides of the drop pod. A crackle across the comms-channel echoed within his ears as the voice of his IC, First Sergeant Griggs, began to take over the noise of the muffled explosions. His pod began to shake a little as it started.
"Chariot 9-4-1 to all callsigns, listen in. Today we're being dropped directly into the heat of this Operation. Our goal specifically is to land relatively close towards one of the high-profile Operations outposts of the Covenant Expeditionary forces. This is their major staging outpost. This is where they are landing their troops. This is where the UNSC Marines are preparing to assault and we're going to be their supporting infiltration force." A chuckled voice suddenly took over from where the IC had paused, from which added the ODST banter that usually occurred during these incursions.
"Good thing the grunts are getting us! We're the arse-kickers of this planet!" The interruption was only met with a few chuckles. It was one of Private Osuma's specialities, apart from marksmanship and all, to rise up and add some humour to the drops. However, it wasn't long before a voice cut over the smart-arse comment. This was the voice of Lucas Hickery.
"Save the jokes until after the briefing, Osuma. You're awfully loud in this drop for a sniper."
"The only thing louder than him at this rate is the shit running down Graham's leg. Anyway, we've got to ensure we land at our designated DZ with minimalist distance to ensure that the surrounding teams at other objectives do not get scrambled. This is a precise landing, so be prepared to take the controls ahead and alter your angle. DZ will by hot, Osuma will be landing elsewhere to provide support, but we'll all be going in likely with guns pointing at our backs, fronts, sides and likely above. This ain't no cake-walk. Get this ready, and we'll make it back in time for Austran's birthday."
As soon as his words were over, the pods began to move in synchronisation. The supports holding the racks began to adjust them into the positions of the drop-holes. These were where the pods were almost fired out straight into the atmosphere right towards their target zones. This was where the magic of the ODSTs started. Yet, this magic was far from coming true today...
A crackle and creak echoed throughout the briefing room, as the Squads finishing up their briefings around holographic tables were almost completely cut off by this worrying sound. Even those inside their pods, Hickery included, as they felt threatened by what seemed to disturb the beast they were safe within. The sound seemed to cease for a moment, before a blaring alarm shunted itself into the ears and helmets of everyone within the room. A jolt within the hall threw a few of those unprepared onto their sides, sending them slipping into certain banisters or into other fellow comrades. The jolt seemed to happen quickly, too quickly for anyone to react at first, before a tear seemed to rip itself through the flooring of the ODST bay. Parts and poles of the ceiling began to topple downwards, wires and elecritical sparks burst out from multiple angles as those unprepared once again lost their balance and composure. This deadly blow jolted the pod of Lucas greatly, throwing his head about in his seat continuously as he frantically tried to regain his awareness of the situation. Suddenly, all he could witness was the loss of hope that suddenly flooded those in the room. The floor to his left began to rip open, a spew of fire and debris shooting up into the room and flooding those who were unfortunate enough to be above that impact.
The floor shuddered more, as several crewmen not dressed in ODST gear found themselves being set alight, and several ODSTs and other working naval officers were thrown into the abyss now created within the launch bay. It was as if the room was tearing itself apart bit by bit, piece by piece. Nothing could be done, especially by Lucas. Being strapped to what seemed to be a chair, the comms began to light up with the frantic tones of those in their pods.
"W-What the hell? Drop the pods...Drop the fucking pods!" The shouts of the lower ranks began to fill his headset as the helmet scrambled to make any sense of the situation. The man within that helmet was just as confused as everyone else. In response to the call for panic, Lucas tried to initiate the emergency release mechanism directly linked to the pod, but the electric damage being caused in the room made it impossible to manually release.
"I'm fucking hooked into the latch! I can't loosen it..." He tried to shake and press the mechanism release over and over, frantically staring at the damage through the ceiling reaching where his pod was. The ceiling seemed to be collapsing in on itself, as those talking over the headsets from other squads seemed to be cut off mid-sentence by their own screams and calls for assistance. Many in the room were attempting to open one of the doors, or make it to their own pods, desperately trying to get themselves and their squad-mates out of the room that was caving in on itself. "Come on your piece of shit! Detach!"
As if the gods of this Shield-world were listening, a large strut in the frame of the drop-pod mechanism suddenly loosened and swung about the room. Heavily, it collided with several pod release mechanisms, causing them to simply drop without being given any orders. Only a few made it down, and the large strut continued to swing as it too collided with Lucas' mechanism. He was tossed around within his pod as the confined space seemed to warn him of unexpected damage. The clamp holding his pod down dropped only half-a-way, dropping himself down at an angle above the drop-hole. This shaft was meant to fire him down in. This was not the correct procedure at all. The calls for help came increasingly louder.
"Someone get me out of this...damn pod...I am still trappe-" A quick blare of the comms-channel was cut off by the sight of a large strut breaking through the front door of the pod Corporal Nickelson spoke from, only revealing a splatter of blood against the non-shattered windows without any word to be left.
Before Lucas even the time to react to what he had just witnessed, the pod hatch released, and suddenly he was found tumbling within his pod down towards the unnatural earth the forerunners had left for life to discover. All that he could see was the sight of an exploding vessel, far larger than the pod he was sat within. The sight of a blazing ball of fire tumbling downwards was enough to make him realise what was going on. The brandishing of the UNSC Stranger of Darkness was being burnt up; the crew were being charred up likely as well, as all he could remember after was the sight of another drop pod slamming into his own...
With his vision only just reaching a blurry state, Lucas gasped awake with great energy as he felt like he was suffocating in space. Everything around him continued to be blurry and out of focus, but the sights weren't going to remain hidden for long. With every second that passed, Lucas could make out piece by piece of what was left of his saving pod. A spark the first, a few lights coming into focus the next. A few more passed and he could begin to identify the sight of smashed reinforced glass covering the release capsule.
This sight caught him off guard, as he continued to breathe heavily from where he was. There was no sound, as far as he was concerned, and there was only the noise of the failed electronics within the pod he was still sat in. It was eerie. It was a deafening silence. He didn't like it one bit.
Trying to sit up in his position, he found out that by his slumber, the pod was tilted to an angle upon impact, probably causing a bit of damage to the environment. Lucas' first instinct here was to scramble for the emergency capsule release mechanisms, but before he could do that a few numbers caught his eye. A clock. It signified the time, still a little blurry, but he could make out the readings. In comparison to what he'd been told at the briefing, he was thirteen hours after his initial drop. Those were not the numbers he'd expected to see. Eventually, he gathered his confusion and pressed the emergency release mechanisms, causing the door to shoot straight off through its pressurised release. A free exit was now in place. Lucas didn't exit the pod straight away. He wanted to hear if there were any reactions from nearby hostiles or friendlies, just to see if he was in the clear or not. With no returning noises, he loosely removed the service rifle from his pod's sides, grabbed all the ammunition he had, all the secondary equipment he could try, and pulled himself loose from his chair.
The sights were just as he expected upon arrival to the shield-world in the first place. He was in some sort of dense forest, where trees had been split or parted. It was easy to tell that the damage had been caused by his pod's landing, but there was no indication as to if any of them were from previous battles or not. And the thought of battles reminded him almost instantly, if it was that amount of time ahead of his drop, had the battle actually finished. From his position, there was no echoing vocal of gunfire nor aircraft, but that could only be a temporary silence. Raising a hand towards his rifle and staggeringly trying to form a defensive stance, he grunting in pain as a sharp ache filled his left hip.
"Any available callsigns...t-this is Chariot 9-4-3...Respond over? I'm going to ping my location for a very short duration..."
