@Andromedai As another note, you can have an AI in your suit as long as it is a "dumb" AI (one not created from mapping a Human brain). Actually, the average Gen 2 MJOLNIR suit has about a dozen or so dumb AIs integrated into it. Most of them just don't talk. They tend to run suit systems, or perform logistical duties like filing mission reports or assessing the Spartan's performance.
My modem broke. I'm on public WiFi now, but I won't be able to post until I replace it tomorrow, unless I can get access at home on my cell phone, as I have now. If you need to start without me (really start), please have someone mention my character or at least hint at him. I don't know when my regular internet access will return tomorrow. It might be a while if I have to mess around with the new modem.
That will likely be at least 16 hours from now, real-time, before I can reply. I have to get to the store, wait in line, get the modem, bring it home, install it, and get it to work, and that last part may require a phone call.
@AristoclesAgain, you're perfectly fine. I intend on responding myself after either Skyrte or Sword have a chance to reply. I won't have the briefing start without you.
I just remembered that I need to pick the fireteam leader from among the Spartans. I intended to pick the one who was the most "leaderlike", but I suppose I should ask first who would actually want that position for their Spartan. @Aristocles, @Andromedai, @Crab Bane, @Zarkun, do any of you think your Spartan should not be selected?
Appearance: A roughly six foot three individual with a bulky figure. Wide framed, physically fit to the standard and no less. Pale white skin with blue hooded eyes. A wavy top of dirty-blonde hair just within the bounds of regulation.
Skills: Investigation, intelligence gathering, report writing. The usual spook 411.
Preferred Weapons/Equipment: M7 SMG, M6D.
Background:
The Beginning: On the day of January 7th, 2530, a child of no certain significance was brought into this universe. Being born to nothing more than a pair of farmers who bore the names Zehra and Jan. Who, besides feeding, providing shelter for the child, and a surname, contributed little else to their newborn. This baby was christened Ray, and so began the dull years of infancy.
Ray was born to a family of ten and was the second youngest among them. Earning him the misfortune of not being able to claim first born or be pampered by his parents as the baby. Because of this shared similarity, he grew close to his former four siblings which would begin teaching him raising him to survive the world. Walking, talking, thinking, seeing, understanding. A baseline spattering of them all to develop a functional boy in the years to come.
What followed was nothing short of misery and mind-numbing simplicity. As soon as Ray gained his strength and wit he was set to work in the field. Helping his brothers push plows through the tough soil. Sewing the ground with seed and crop for the next harvest. The days ended the same for quite a while. Plow, sew, eat just enough to survive, sleep, rinse and repeat. With the sprinkling of beatings when an old tool would finally call it quits.
As Ray began getting older he’d begun to form his own opinions. Never on things such as politics; that was completely lost to him and his family out on the farm. Who ruled the planet and what they called themselves mattered little. All that mattered was the job at hand. Instead, his thoughts were on his parents and siblings. He grew to love his brothers and sisters and despise the woman he came out of and man that provided the spark of life. The one thing they had taught him was to believe in something greater. In god. Which, to their credit he did. Ray prayed day and night for this boring farm in the middle of nowhere to simply disappear. To experience what lay beyond the fencing of their farm. The outside world.
On February 20th, 2537, Ray’s prayer came true. The outside world came to them and with it the human-covenant war. For the first time he saw a spacecraft soar through the sky. He heard the sounds of distant battle and watched the lights stream down from alien ships to melt swathes of land. It was like a magic trick, turning stone, dirt, and flesh into glass. His parents cared very little for it all, but Ray and a few of his siblings were ecstatic. For the first time since the beginning something was happening and they wanted to leave this place for a closer look. So, they gathered up and hopped the fence. Travelling through woods and plains with the glow of a burning city to guide them. Upon arriving, he saw magnificent and horrifying things. Buildings larger than he thought possible were torn in two. Faces he had never seen before littered the streets attached to unfamiliar people and corpses. Gunfire. The smell of smoke, but also the familiar scent of death. Even if they wanted to leave by now the direction they came was long lost to them.
Thankfully, Ray’s tale didn’t simply end there. He wasn’t consumed by the inferno raging across the planet. As their curiosity wore off it was replaced with fear and they wandered the streets in search of safety. Which came in the form of a Sergeant Halthrope and his squad of marines. The children were swiftly swiped up and carried off without words of comfort or introduction. It was action that saved their lives and brought them to the last drop ships leaving the city.
Glass half full: Seven years of nothing suddenly bursting with excitement and unfamiliarity. Ray watched as the pelican lifted from the ground and the true scope of this extermination was revealed. How big the city was, how big the planet was, how big their ships were… The ramp closed and the planet got smaller until he could see the light of his homeworld being incinerated. Each of the children took it differently. Some were sad as they had always been, mourning for their lost farm and those that were in it. Some were lost in reflection. Others were glad that they didn’t have to spend a moment more tending the field. But only Ray was excited for what lay in store. They were flown up higher and higher. Past where the birds soared. Past the clouds that were never reachable. Then out of an atmosphere and into the void of space. Everything they knew shrinking smaller and smaller. Then they landed.
What greeted Ray was not a warm welcome, or even confused stares like he might have expected. Instead it was an assortment of tired and bloodied soldiers shuffling slowly from their dropships into the depths of this much larger craft. Heads hung low in defeat. All except Halthrope and his five men. They walked down their ramp carrying children in their arms and on their backs. Heads held high.
Ray and his family were taken off to eat amongst the crowd of soldiers. The food was like nothing he had to this point. It wasn’t bread and corn or meat. It was the grool of a warrior. The kids devoured it, then were huddled off to sleep on the bunks of soldiers who wouldn’t be needing them anymore. In the morning, when they awoke, they showered and cleaned themselves. After being brought in front of a man that was much better dressed than the rest of them. Respect. That’s what he saw on each of their faces. Whoever this was is deserving of that admiration. The Captain introduced himself and told them they’d be staying on the ship for a while due to the situation. Which didn’t bother Ray or the other children much. On their first day they were already enjoying it here.
So, the next few months were spent aboard the UNSC ship. In this short time Ray learned more than he had ever learned in his seven years, and more than he’d ever learn again. He was brought up to speed with the rest of the universe. Seeing ships, guns, armor, stars, friendly people, and everything beyond his small little farm. He was told about the UNSC and the Covenant. Past wars, the expansion, the whole deal. Sergeant Halthrope became what he never had in that small time. A father. Teaching him most of what he would use in his adult life and who he’d become. Though, the most important lesson he learned from the Sergeant is to be grateful for what you have, rather than spiteful for what you don’t. Looking at a glass as half way full as opposed to half way empty.
This continued on until enough time had passed that the ship was sure it wasn’t being followed, then returned to it’s station to resupply and regroup. Farewells were said, hugs were exchanged and even tears shed. And like that it was onto the next stage of life. The children were placed in a program for refugee children without a home. Some were lucky to be sent with their brothers and sisters, but Ray was not one of the fortunate ones. He was placed in the care of an elderly couple. They were kind enough, but they would never replace the Sergeant in his heart nor provide sound advice that he’d take with him to the grave.
Wealth of information: Soon Ray was sent to start his schooling. He had learned many things, but was never educated or attended any sort of class taught by someone with a semblance of a degree. It turned out it was just about as mind numbing as experience on the farm, but despite this he held true and stuck with it. Glad, at the least, he didn’t have to deal with his parents.
The real lesson he learned from his earlier years of education was not anything said by the teachers or written down on a whiteboard. It was that he didn’t belong. He didn’t fit into this environment, not because he knew more or less. Not because he was a simple farm boy from a backwater planet. It was because he had seen the thrill and horror of war. His family was far away, and the family he was born to was dust. None of them would understand that. So, rather than attempt to socialize with any of them Ray buckled down. Focusing the entirety of his effort on simply gliding through school as quick as he could through vigorous study. The plan certainly did no favors for his ability to talk to women or really anyone without making it awkward but he did succeed. Skipping grades to catch him up on the years lost. Then going further to catapult himself ahead of those in his age group. Not having to deal with the usual stressors of bullying thanks to being larger than most of his peers.
Through the next eight years this trend continued. However, his schooling wasn’t free and his adoptive father was too ill to work. He followed his new mother and worked under her establishment. A masseur, rubbing backs and working knots for money. Soon Ray set into a schedule that he’d keep. One that felt vaguely like his time back on the farm. School. Work. Eat. Sleep. Thus it was maintained until his graduation in 2546.
Into the fire: It wasn’t long after receiving his diploma that Ray found himself in a UNSCMC recruitment office. Since meeting the Sergeant he had dreamed of stepping into his place. Wearing that armor. Seeing the galaxy. So when he shook hands with a recruiter and signed his name on some digital document he felt nothing but that same excitement. When his long unkempt hair was buzzed, when he was tossed into a uniform, when he was shipped away from everything and placed among others who suffered the same fate. Excitement. Boot camp was a breeze and finally he felt like he was somewhere he belonged. Among people he belonged with. They all had signed up for the same reason and they were worth making the effort to talk to.
After nearly a year of training Ray was officially a part of the United Nations Space Command’s Marine Corps. With a whole host of people he could call friends. The war was starting to get more desperate and bodies were needed. It wasn’t a week after training that their unit was shipped out. Once more being thrust into the unknown.
Skopje: News of a nearby UEG colony being attacked reached the unit’s ears, and though they had no concrete idea of where they were headed the name Skopje had been passed around from enlisted to enlisted. A smaller planet, however still one populated by millions of civilians. It was a nice world with a dense atmosphere. Rich green forests with one center city at it all. It’s main trade was a massive shipyard that produced freighters, and recently converted to creating warships to fuel the war machine. When they came into orbit they could see the battle was already underway as the fire of a burning city glowed through the clouds. They had word that Shock Troops had already been deployed to the surface to secure safe evacuation for the city’s population. However, the ship they deployed from had been destroyed not long after they dropped. Leaving only the floating wreck and drifting bodies of naval crewmen slowly circling this sphere of dirt.
The marines had been tasked with one simple objective. Riding down on the gunships to extract the ODST and any survivors at the evac point, then return before their ship had a chance to be blown out of the sky. So, they loaded up. Four for each drop ship. Buckling down in their seats as the craft lowered. The ramp closed and soon they were unhitched and free falling into the atmosphere. The red glow of entry tinting any view port. As they neared closer they broke through the thick layer of cloud and smoke. Greeted by the daunting sounds of battle. The pelican shook as occasional fire was received. Each man and woman clutching their weapons. Soon enough their stomachs lifted and slammed back as they settled ungracefully on the ground. They began to lift from their seats as the ramp lowered. But, before they even had time to exit a squad of ODSTs with a family in tow piled into the craft. Then, the ramp closed and the pelican lifted again.
Ray’s first hand look at war had been as simple as hearing it, and seeing the aftermath climb desperately into their seats before leaving. Not a single shot fired or round received. That’s not to say there weren’t casualties. Most of the other gunships had been shot down on entry or as they attempted to exit. Leaving only a few to make it back to the ship before they left the planet to it’s fate.
Meridian: After his initial glimpse at combat and their quick retreat back to deliver the wounded and refugees, Ray was quite unsatisfied. As most young soldiers would be. Eager to participate rather than simply watch others fight. Sooner than expected he’d get his chance. Not long after their first assignment they were tasked to Meridian given that it was one of the last standing planets in the sector. There, they were supposed to reinforce the planetary garrison and defend the orbital defense platforms in the event that it was attacked by an invasion fleet.
There they settled into a small routine. The onboard marines would arm up, take their stations and wait for contact. Breaking for food twice a day then reconvened and resumed post. Taking shifts for rest in between after depositing their weapons back into the appropriate places. This lasted only a couple weeks before the first contacts were detected approaching the system and in no time a covenant fleet had arrived. Fortunately the size of the fleet was nothing grand and the ships they did send close were disposed of before they could make landfall. But not before they were able to launch boarding parties into two of the defense platforms. One of which happened to be his.
On some day in November, 2548, Ray met the enemy face to face and discharged his weapon in the field for the first time. One of a long string of engagements while the planet of Meridian lay under siege. At first, casualties were few and far between when the occasional raiding party breached the station’s defenses. Though as time wore on the attacks grew more fierce and ammunition supplies dwindled. His tour on the planet was a full year of constant vigilance and fighting before he was wounded and evacuated from the sector along with hundreds of other marines. Managing to slip by the blockade. Still, the battle raged on long after he left for another two years until the defense platforms were destroyed and the planet was turned to dust.
Nine-to-five: After receiving a critical injury overhead of Meridian, Ray was brought the long hall back to Earth to recover. There, he spent six months out of active service and another six months in a non-combatant station. From there, according to the needs of the UNSC he was transferred to the Navy to assist in the more tech savvy operations that required little field work as he continued to recover. This is where he learned the basics of code cracking and decryption. A skill which he began to exceed and made him desirable to a select few parties over being more food for the grinder. Soon after due to the lacking manpower he was approached by the Office of Naval Intelligence and offered a position where he’d do just that.
It wasn’t an idea he liked, sitting behind a desk. Though someone doesn’t simply refuse an offer like that. So, he accepted and soon was sent off to train and study his field more heavily. From there he was brought into Section-One of ONI and spent the next two years on Earth as an overpaid intern, filing documentation in the proper places from after action reports and intel briefs. Until, of course, the war had once more come to claim the world he was on. A curse, truly. There wasn’t much action seen on his end, but he was tasked with destroying all the information stored within his facility should the Covenant breach their defenses. Thankfully it never came to be and he was given a promotion to the rank of Petty Officer Third Class once it was concluded. The battle settled reminded him of his first ever deployment and settled one thing in his mind. He hated paperwork, which unfortunately was his entire job. So rather than waste away in torment Ray applied to become a field agent. In the hopes that it would be as thrilling and exciting as he had heard. All the stories and rumors echoing through the department of legendary Agents and spies. A year later and finally he was approved for field work. He was shipped off to complete a multitude of new fun courses including a brief and shopped together Shock Trooper training. Which was more so meant to teach Agents how to stay out of their way.
All of Ray’s experience culminated to this point. In 2557 he received his first official tasking to a new experimental joint task force with alien soldiers. Serving as a member of the growing Section-One attache to this band of Shock Troops and Swords.
@DeadDropI think your character is made quite well and, based on his background, has a skill set that will fit well into the team. Him being someone with technical expertise, who can still fight, is a role we had not yet filled. I do accept him.
In general, applications are open up to the point that our team ships out for their first mission. At that point, I will be closing applications.
