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3 mos ago
Current I'm so tired of being tired.
5 likes
6 yrs ago
So I'm pursuing a PhD in Philosophy (Ethics, specifically) and meanwhile I can't for the life of me make any quick choice when it comes to coffee. Am I fighting an uphill battle here?
1 like
6 yrs ago
Hooray for upcoming surprise CT Scan! :/
6 yrs ago
Did someone say Disturbed?
5 likes
6 yrs ago
"...You haven't changed at all, Snake."

Bio

Heyo! Just your friendly neighborhood Disturbed Spec here. Avid Roleplay addict, writer, reader and gamer who owns for baby birds (because honestly why not?) I look forward to creating amazing memories with you all on this site! Cheers!

Most Recent Posts



UNSC Unbroken Hope


1332 Hours, April 19th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.


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Team Omicron / Immaculate Aegis CiC / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
---------------------

Issac nodded wordlessly; his mind beginning to quicken as he assessed his environment. "I'm uh... Ready, ma'am. Also, what is the Aegis's AI like? Gen One? Two? How far did the Covenant get in making their own platforms?" Issac asked. In the back of his mind, he speculated that the technology was far below what the UNSC had- but the fact that it could crunch large amounts of data and analyze simulations made it clear it wasn't an impossibility far in the future. He looked around the room, taking pause to evaluate his situation. He was irritated, simply on the notion he had to cooperate with another AI to solve such issues. Regardless, he spoke up soon after. "What would you advise?"

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SENTINEL 1-1 / Jedi Temple, Away-Team 2 Interacting with: @Sep
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Leon gestured to his team to stay put as he shuffle his way over to grab the device. "Understood; you want us to split up and regroup down there from the right side?" Dare asked, attaching the M7S to his left hip and hefting the alien device into his grip. It reminded him of a Plasma Pistol back home, although this technology looked far more archaic for its time. Getting into a comfortable hold, he idled by the team leader to await his response.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1332 Hours, April 19th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.


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Team Omicron / Immaculate Ageis CiC / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
---------------------

"So that was what the 'false gods' were about. Onboard the first delegation meeting." Adam quipped. One of the Spartans seemed to audibly scoff at the mention of John-117, while the last one in the back of the group simply remained quiet. Kendra remained silent for a few seconds in case Issac was going to speak up, but the voice never came out. Taking her opportunity, she spoke up as they were led through the halls. "It certainly clears things up, but I will warn you that anything from them will be perceived as an act of aggression, former allegiances or current. We're just here to get a job done, Ma'am." Kendra said matter-of-factually. That was to say she wasn't going to be making any first moves, but she wasn't in control of what the Elites might do. They were equals, and she knew that they would deliberately pursue Spartans in the midst of combat if it was a ground war. The mere fact that her team was on a ship full of them was enough to briefly send a chill up her spine. Regardless, she'd make sure her purpose here was fulfilled to the best of her ability.

As the group filed through the intricate, abstract and insanely violet halls of the CAS Assault Carrier, they finally reached their intended destination. Having never seen a Covenant laboratory before, the setup of intermixed Human and Elite technologies to fill the bridges between the two distinct sciences both disgusted and amused her. Regardless, she soon spotted a podium with a familiar looking slot. Approaching it, she took a silent breath as she reached behind her and yanked the DCC out of the helmet's slot. Another torrential flood of pain, but it quickly passed as she transferred the DCC into the podium. Issac's form flickered into existence; the figure's body now coated in streams of black data running vertically down alongside his form. He seemed to be almost in a daze as he looked around the room, obviously seeing something that all of them couldn't. Finally, his awestricken, slackjawed smile faded as he blinked and came to his senses- before running an arm across his mouth and looking at O'Connell. "Sorry, might've been drooling a tad."

Issac spoke up after taking a deep breath, appearing to do a series of isometric stretches as he prepared to access the ship's subsystems. "Alright... Primus-pattern Covenant borer- efficiency is at 100%. For its universal standards, anyway. To optimize the borer's efficacy for Slip-jumps capable of matching FTL capabilities of this universe, you're looking at one of two possibilities. The first is to augment the reactor to be able to spool up faster during a jump; which would sacrifice some of the 'surgical precision' to calculate an accurate destination solution. It would also entirely invalidate the 'microjump' capabilities of the borer; trading off for jumping with increased speed and a larger distance. Something I can do right now, actually. The section option would be to analyze the drive specifications of an enemy ship from this universe, bring it to the fabricator station and have it constructed to be installed in replace of the borer. Unfortunately, I'm not sure that's the best overall option at the moment seeing as everyone's on a time crunch- plus, that would be incredibly hazardous to our current operations.

Issac looked to O'Connell. "I'm willing to converse with the Shipmaster to relay just what I intend to do. Whenever he's not occupied, that is." Kendra looked to Issac, then back to O'Connell. "I assume that's something you understand."


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1230 Hours, April 19th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.


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Team Omicron / Immaculate Ageis Hangar / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
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As the team accompanied the ONI Researcher from the Hangar to their destination, Issac practically had a field day absorbing all this new information. So many unknowns, but all of this occurring in just two years? It felt improbable- almost impossible. As the team walked alongside O'Connell, Kendra permitted Issac to speak through the external speakers of the helmet. "Seriously? That's...-Admiral Oliver- we came from 2550. I vaguely recall your crew coming in post-war some years later, though I'm not sure what year. You're telling me that the Sangheili have mostly become tolerant of us when the Covenant... What happened to them, exactly?" Issac was overwhelmed just as much as he sounded. "Was it something to do with the Forerunners and these uh, Halo Arrays?" One of the other Spartans, the one just behind Kendra with the tag of '111', spoke up to the Doctor. "You'll have to excuse him, he's a little slow on the uptake. Forgive my intrusion, Ma'am, but you said something about reverse-engineering Covenant technology. Is that what we're needed for here?" With Adam being the more sociable of the team, Kendra figured he and Issac would do the talking. She could tell that the other members were cautious while in the ship, ready for combat if any of the aliens tried opening fire. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

Security Team One, Mark Bradford, Marcus Oliver / Unbroken Hope Engineering / Interacting with: @Sep

Marcus was the first to speak up. "Understood; I'll be in contact with them following the installation. In the meantime, what would you have us do to prepare for the upgrade?" At any rate, he'd suspected the Unbroken Hope would either have to move closer to the Daedalus, or closer to that rectangular construction facility.

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Sentinel 1-1 / Jedi Temple / Interacting with: @Sep
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Leon's visor polarized into a dark blue as a form of acknowledgement to the objectives as he reached out and took the pad; fiddling with it before quickly passing it back to his team to inspect as he prepared to breach the door. "Didn't work for me. You said it requires a gene to function? Best we have are VISR's with motion trackers." Leon glanced back to his team, and found them rather humorously tapping, gently shaking and flipping the tablet like device over to try and figure out a way to interface with it. With all members quickly giving up, they proceeded to hand the device back to Leon- who passed it back to the armored man. "No joy; can't get it to work." He half whispered. When the man retook the pad, Leon silently moved upward to the service hatch door; leading into the facility with weapons drawn forward. When the team of five filed out into the facility, they fanned out into a wedge formation; adopting into a low crouch as they scanned the area around them. Low-light mode would be useful, as outlines of targets and the environment would make things markedly easier for the team to complete their objectives. "Sentinel 1-1, in position."


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1610 Hours, April 16th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Security Team One, Mark Bradford, Marcus Oliver / Unbroken Hope Engineering / Interacting with: @Sep

Mark nodded, his puzzlement easing off as he internally began to get giddy. Regardless of the strength of the arrays, this was the first time ever that any UNSC ship would have integrated shields. "Y-yes! Yes, I'll pull up the necessary accesses. Jus'... Give me a moment here." Mark said, moving back to a center table and accessing the necessary subsystems. A three-tone beep was heard as the table's transparent glass viewscreen flashed red; with a secondary view-panel pulling down automatically on the left side of the station wall. The viewpanel lit up to display a direct connection to the bridge- and to a very weary-looking man dressed in a decorated white officer's uniform. "Bradford, mind explaining to me wh-" the Admiral cut himself off upon seeing the Security Team and the scientist in the background, clearing his throat as he moved his arms in front of him to disengage something. "Restriction lifted. What's the sitrep?" Mark spoke up for the scientist, relaying verbatim what he had been told, stepping back and passing the conversational torch back to Marcus. The Admiral raised an eyebrow, nodding as he took a breath to speak to the scientist. "You've got the green light, Doctor. Although my only concerns now are the arrays. Are they external or internal? Also- this proposal is gracious of you, but I'd prefer you compensated in return for the upgrade. Is there anything your ship needs?"

Mark stepped away from the center table; the integrated displays lining the edges now alight with multiple displays of critical subsystem information, privileges, and settings. He whispered loud enough to be in earshot, "All yours, Ma'am."

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Team Omicron / Immaculate Ageis Hangar / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
---------------------

Those three words rippled through each of the team in a silent flashback, but the living statues just stared at the woman. That was, until she inquired about the AI. Kendra took the lead, stepping forward with a nod. "He's with me, Ma'am... I wasn't expecting ONI to be working with the Elites." Despite trying to include additional emotion in her voice, Kendra ultimately quipped out her response in an unintended passive-aggressive tone. She couldn't bring herself to be as.. emotive as when she was with her squad. Not with her captors, regardless of being from a different universe.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1610 Hours, April 16th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Marcus Oliver / Unbroken Hope Bridge / Interacting with: @EliteCommander

Marcus knew this wasn't going to be good. Regardless, he bit back on his tongue and chose his next words carefully; seeing as the Shipmaster did indeed have a point. He also knew just who'd be able to carry it, but he wasn't foolish enough to send them in alone. "Very well, Shipmaster. I'll have Issac prepped and briefed on his assignment; his arrival will be with an escort I am sure you'll be familiar with. Expect a Pelican's arrival within the next ten minutes, Oliver out." Ending the hail with a sigh of relief, Marcus turned to his left. Off to the side and out of view of the panel, the white hologram materialized upon his mention, looked over and snapped back to Marcus with silent indignation. "You're kidding, right? You're sending me over to a CAS-Class?" The Admiral sighed, walking forward and calling out, "Clarke, get Omicron to the Bridge." As Marcus focused his attention back to the AI, Clarke's voice rang out over the PA system. "No, I'm not kidding. Jill can ensure the module's integration from here- Omicron will accompany your arrival aboard the Ageis. I'll explain more when they get here."

Within a few moments, the doors to the Bridge slid open to reveal the gold-plated visor of Kendra-223, and every other member of Omicron that entered the room. Spreading out around the center console where the Admiral and Issac stood, they snapped a perfect salute in unison to the Admiral, who simply said, "At ease." As they relaxed their arms back to their sides, Marcus took a deep breath before explaining what he was sure was going to turn heads of all involved. "Team Omicron, welcome. What I'm about to say will sound as outlandish as everything on the Resurgence, but hear me out. You're being assigned on a mission to transport Issac from the Hope to the Ageis, the former Covenant CAS-Class Assault Carrier. Ensure his escort and protection at all times during the duration of the.. consultation, for lack of a better word." Marcus paused, not only thinking about what he was going to say next, but also allowing for the Spartans to adjust to the information they received. Kendra nodded, simply gesturing a hand outward to say, "Continue." Marcus nodded, and spoke up again. "Their Shipmaster wants Issac to have a discussion with a scientist on board their ship for the premise of improving their means of Slipspace, as well as eliminating any other 'weaknesses' of our ships. I know you're only going to be there for security detail, but I'm confident this will proceed with no combat. If these Elites and their crew are anything at keeping their word, this should go smoothly. Any questions?"

The members of Omicron wearily exchanged glances behind their leader at one another, no doubt communicating on a secure channel as Kendra stepped forward, speaking up. "What you're asking for goes against everything we've trained for; everything we are. I could forgive your insubordination on the Resurgence, Sir, but this.... this is insane. Are you sure this is what you want?" The disbelief and emotion in the typically stoic Spartan's voice surprised Marcus, yet the Admiral remained steadfast and sympathetic. "If it were any different, which it isn't, I wouldn't be doing this. Frankly, we can say no, but our hands are forced. We can keep denying requests for support over and over, and eventually be turned against for lack of contributions to the cause of eliminating Anubis. Or we can be complacent and supportive, and do something to get home, if that's even an option. You and your team are the only ones I know that are qualified for something like this; all I ask of is your trust in me. This isn't a suicide mission, and I'm not doing this without purpose to our own cause. Hell, I don't think I'll ever be forgiven by my wife and children for going M.I.A, and a lot of people here have already resigned to that fate. However, if we can destroy Anubis so he doesn't find our universe, then that's my objective. The choices such as this will be asking a lot of all of us, but I wouldn't be making them if I wasn't taking everything else into consideration. I don't expect forgiveness from you any time soon, Kendra, but I need you and your team to trust me."

It felt like an eternity had passed, even after he concluded the speech, but the Spartan saw on her visor the unmistakable, silent green blink of her team's markers. They were onboard, and this prompted her to step up to the Admiral as they all remained back in their positions. Dwarfing the man by a considerable difference in height, it almost seemed as if the Admiral shrank an inch as he craned his neck upward to stare into his own reflection from the polarized golden visor. Kendra had all the information she needed, but one last thing was on her mind before she took the DCC from the podium attached to the center console. "You're right, Admiral. Unfortunately, this isn't home and I couldn't turn you in to ONI. However, I never liked them anyway, and as questionable as your leadership is, I trust your decision." As Issac vanished into the podium and the DCC ejected itself from the slot, Kendra continued staring down the Admiral as she yanked the chip out of the slot and placed it into the back port of her head. Ignoring the ice cold surge of pain, she nodded. "We'll get it done." Kendra quipped, before turning on a heel and exiting the Bridge, all the members in-tow of their team leader. Marcus pivoted on a heel, and strode back to his seat rather shaken. Another hard choice made, but he didn't anticipate such reaction. Regardless of any matter, she was right.

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TEAM OMICRON / Unbroken Hope Hangar / En-route to the Immaculate Ageis
------------------------

Within their arrival to the Hangar after stopping by the Armory, another Pelican was spooled up and ready for dustoff. Boarding into the troop carrier and securing themselves inside, no-one said a word until the troop compartment and cockpit doors shut behind them. "Permission to speak freely, Team Lead." The unmistakably gravelly voice of the team's vehicular and CQC specialist, Adam-111, resonated through the confines of the compartment. "Granted, for all of you. I'm... sure your as just as lost for words as I am." Adam nodded. "I am, but I know the Admiral's only trying to his best for all of us. The fact that he sees us as more than just what ONI would consider an expendable asset is respectable in my book. Treasonous or not, you know what he said on the Resurgence. Even if we did make it home, we'd be dead before this 'Anubis' got to our universe. He's making a tough call, but if it wasn't without purpose, we wouldn't be Spartans. Sorry for getting all Philosophical on this, Boss."

"No problem. It's just... difficult adapting to the thought-turned-reality of going to a Covenant controlled vessel to conduct a matter of business. Sure this isn't our universe anymore, but acting buddy-buddy with the very same threat we were created to eliminate wasn't exactly on my list of expectations."

"It was no-one's, Boss. Regardless, we're not going anywhere. Admiral's call or not, this doesn't change who we are. We take orders, we execute them, and we go home until we're needed again. That being said, the only people I'm with is the Admiral and my team. If they open fire first, you'll bet they'll get fired upon. As morally questionable as this is, hasn't everything else been in our lives? We don't have the time to let these things get in our way. We can save it for the return- but I won't be participating in that discussion. Sorry Boss."

Kendra nodded to Benjamin's honesty, always having been the type of person to simply get things done and disallow any interference. In combat it was great, but more often than not she found herself at odds with the Heavy Ordinance expert. As irritating as it was, she could respect such a position where he came from. Glancing over to Vanessa, the quiet Marksman had opted for a BR55HB/S instead of her regular sniper rifle. Around this time, the pilot of the Pelican called out over the PA system, "Initiating docking procedures, ETA twenty seconds." Vanessa nodded as the team began preparing to disembark the craft, speaking up as the Pelican idled around the ventral bay of the massive ship. "I can't say I have much on the matter, but I've got your back, and the Admiral's. Unconventional is our specialty, and this certainly fits the bill."

As the Pelican lurched forward and gently sat down, Kendra took a deep breath as the Pilot announced, "Touchdown; time to exfil. I'll be here when you return." The troop bay opened, and Kendra was the first to stand up and walk out; weapons maglocked across her back as Issac's voice suddenly erupted in her head. "Despite everything that just occurred, you can't admit you're not excited about this, right? Or is that just me?" Kendra remained silent, but smiled briefly as she hopped out of the Pelican's back troop bay and onto the floor of the alien ship with a notable thud. As did her team, it became apperant that they had never been inside one of the Covenant's vessels before, as they all looked around in silent fascination of the ship's interior hangar bay.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


[h3]1530 Hours, April 16th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Security Team One / Unbroken Hope Hangar / Interacting with: @Sep ,

A slender figure flanked by two armored Marine MP's happened to glance in her direction, looking rather perplexed at her sudden materialization. Weapons lowered, the trio began to approach the lone scientist as she made her introduction "A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Novak- My name is Elizabeth Carver. If you'd just follow us, we'll take you to Engineering." The CSM flashed an assuring smile; she was doing her damnedest to make Novak more at ease. Last thing she wanted is a panicking egghead running around her section of the ship. After winding about the various backroom corridors, they would finally approach a massive room striped in caution colors. With the door sliding open, the interior was revealed to be massive; housing a massive center generator wired up to the brim with connections to servers, cooling devices, and the two giant turbines in the back. Beyond that, the interior was relatively spacious; allowing for a manner of workbenches and light manufacturing facilities to line the walls. The temperature was notably hotter, but nothing uncomfortable. Elizabeth turned back to Novak with a light smirk. "Welcome to Engineering's domain. The Chief Operation's Officer is up in that room at the top of the stairs, should you have any questions." Elizabeth said, pointing to a single flight of stairs leading up to an upper platform supervisory station overlooking the rest of the interior. However, she lowered her hand and mentally slapped herself as she cleared her throat, her face reddening. How could she possibly expect to simply point and go when this egghead wasn't at all familiar with the ship? "Excuse me, just... had a bit of a brainfog. Right this way, please."

The MP's seemed perplexed at the woman's sudden burst of confusion as she headed toward the station, but nonetheless trailed after her while keeping the scientist in their line of sight. Approaching the top of the station, the woman knocked twice as the door slid open to reveal a middle-aged man with frizzled short brown hair and light hazel eyes; dressed in an orange Engineering uniform and equally covered in patches and streaks of soot, oil and some bruises. Elizabeth stepped inside, with the Engineer seemingly puzzled as to why the hell Security was down here. "Mark, got a second? We've got a scientist to see you regarding potential upgrades to the ship." The man's puzzlement esclated to confusion, then softened to a polite acknowledgement at the mention of a scientist. Then, back to a light puzzlement. Regardless, the man looked to the new arrival as he spoke up with a comfortable Southern drawl. "Good to meetcha' Ma'am. Mark Bradford, Cheif Operatin' Officer of this here Engineerin' Bay." He noticed she wasn't wearing a UNSC science uniform, which only served to confirm his puzzlement with a series of microexpressions as he held a relativity clean hand out in greeting.

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Marcus Oliver / Bridge / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
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Not even a few hours had passed before he was jolted out of a daze once more, this time by a rather publicly broadcasted statement. The bridge went silent, as the panel lit up with an automatic connection to whatever had initiated it on the other end. Marcus bit back a scowl as a booming, throaty voice met his ears. Getting up out of his chair and straightening himself out, the Admiral walked into view and stood at Parade Rest, speaking up soon after. "This is Admiral Marcus Oliver, how may we be of assistance, Shipmaster? Internally, he nearly screamed. Never in his life had he actually seen a Shipmaster, Covenant or not. The closest he had seen was a General, and he'd swore that would have been his last had Omicron not stepped in. He wasn't dare going to say the Sangheili's name either- he didn't know how their customs worked and didn't much feel like being destroyed over an assumed short tempered alien.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1230 Hours, April 19th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Interacting with: @Sep

Marcus sat at the Command Chair, staring out into the void of space as he allowed himself to be distracted by the glittering stars shining though the darkness. He couldn't stop thinking about Leon and his team; out of communications range and in an environment they didn't even know. He knew people like Elizabeth and Colonel Briggs would do the same thing if it was their men being sent down to an unfamiliar, potentially hostile world. Now beyond returning home, people began to realize they were all they had out here. The lines between duty, survival and protocol were becoming blurred- mashing everyone together into one big dysfunctional family of soldiers. Marcus was quickly jolted out of his thoughts as the sound of approaching footsteps prompted him to look up at the figure. The woman before him was, he assumed, of strong Germanic origin, possessing a strong, square jawline, blond hair and ice blue eyes. He smiled, and she didn't. "Warrant Officer Schleibaum, what can I help you with?" He inwardly cringed as he nearly fumbled to try and pronounce her last name; the awkward pronunciation of "sleigh-ballum" making the woman scrunch her nose slightly before speaking with a heavy German accent. "Admiral Oliver, Sir. Ve are being hailed by zhe Daedalus." Raising an eyebrow, Marcus rose from his seat and replied, "Patch it through to the main display, let's see what they want." The woman clicked her heels in a salute to the Admiral, saying, "Aye, Sir," before pivoting on a heel and walking briskly back to her station. Marcus went over to the main panel, shoving the stiff interaction to the back of his mind as the glass display lit up with red-tinged words, "CONNECTING TO UNKNOWN SIGNAL. . .STANDBY."

When the hail finally connected, Marcus stood at Parade Rest, allowing a brief pause for the communications to clear up before speaking to the figure at the other end. "This is Admiral Marcus Oliver of the UNSC Unbroken Hope, is there something I can help you with?" The figure at the other end introduced themselves as Major Kevin Marks of the Daedalus, suggesting one of their engineers be sent over to install a shield generator aboard the Unbroken Hope. Of course, this was all in respect to Marcus's permission. "Understood; send them to the Hangar and a security escort will take them to Engineering." When the hail closed, Marcus strode to the center console and spoke up. "Issac." The white hologram materialized, and Marcus spoke again with a tone of uncertainty in his voice. "We'll be having one of the Daedalus Engineers onboard to look at an upgrade for the Hope. Security will be present in case of sabotage; I want you to oversee the upgrade process and disallow them remote access to anything other than the power distributor and the necessary subsystems connections. Ensure this is a one-way operation; anything requiring additional permissions needs to be relayed to me. Understood?"

"Aye, Sir." Issac saluted, vanishing from the central console. "Security Team One, report to Hangar." Issac's voice was momentarily heard over the Hope's loudspeakers, and Marcus could feel the wheels turning as the orders were received. "Warrant Officer Williamson, monitor the Hope's systems and update me on installation progression." An "Aye, Sir!" came from somewhere on the upper right side of the Bridge; the figure obscured by the glass panel serving as a divider between the left and right sections of the ship. As Marcus seated himself back in the Command Chair, it wasn't long before he began drifting off to the operation's progress.

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SENTINEL 1-1/Away Team 2
---------------------------------------------------

Interacting with: @Sep

The team of six made their way to the craft known as the 'Jumper', embarking it with another team as they secured themselves to the seats. Liam has his pilot helmet on; polarized and tinted to obscure his eyes from view as did every other ODST. Well, except Leon. The Squad Leader insisted on being as transparent as possible in the face of the unknown, and therefore had depolarized his helmet's visor as to not look like another faceless being to the rest of the crew and auxiliary forces aboard the station. One of the shuttles had just departed, which meant soon that he and his team were next in line. From what the others could make out, every single black-clad soldier had their own role in the squad, it seemed. Most carried suppressed assault rifles, battle rifles and SMGs, with one member lugging what appeared to be some sort of a heavy sniper rifle, again fitted with a suppressor at the end.

As the Jumper finally touched down without so much as a bump, Leon filed out after the members exited the craft. He was at least glad to have these new 'Omni-Tool' devices mounted on each of their wrist gauntlets, but he much preferred using his helmet's internal communications and VISR. His team fanned out of the dropship and followed Sheppard; their heads and bodies on a pivot to survey the area from all sides as they approached the maintenance shaft in a staggered column. Leon held a hand up; signaling his team to stop as he spoke up, voice barely above a whisper but just loud enough to hear. "Where are we needed, Sheppard?" He didn't like relying on some non-UNSC personnel calling the shots, but he'd have to deal with it nonetheless given the circumstance.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


1530 Hours, April 16th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector, en-route to the Glasgow


Interacting with: [?]

"Three....Two.....One.... All hands brace!" Issac called out as the crew reflexively gripped onto anything bolted down. Everyone was tense- since this was the first test-fire of the Slipspace Drive since hitting the anomaly. As per the destination solution's accuracy, no anomalies were detected this time around. Hydrogen particulate glared a brilliant white as streaks of passing stars zeroed out into tiny pinpricks of glistening light. When the jump completed, the ventral and side engines rotated the ship to turn around; the crew sighing in relief as the mining station was a kilometer behind them. With the test a success for the engine, they knew they'd have to wait for the official upgrade to be able to travel further with the fleet. "Issac, get Leon up here. Tell him to assemble a fireteam- we don't need a whole task force for this. And inform Amir we're going to need a pilot for transport." Issac nodded, saluting as he vanished into the bridge. Marcus stood up from his command chair, rolling his shoulders and cracking his back as he broke into a series of stretches. Not before long, the bridge access door beeped twice before sliding open- with Leon and five other ODST's filing into the room, all wearing their battle armor and weapons.

"Gentlemen, good to see you. While I personally have not received any orders nor communications from the rest of the fleet, I've taken it upon myself to do some research. The planet you'll be heading to is Coruscant. Once home to Republic forces at its capital, the demise of the faction exposed its corruption, and the Empire soon took its place. I'm sending you to the Glasgow, as our ship is not capable of reaching that destination. You'll be going in via Pelican for this one. Any questions?" Marcus concluded his speech, and every operator looked at one another before turning to Leon, who rolled his eyes and raised his hand before placing it back at his side. "ROE? Objective?"

Marcus nodded, clearing his throat before speaking up. "Return-Fire only. While it is certainly going to draw attention with the Pelican and your armor, I expect that, should your hand be forced, you can deal with the threat quickly. Better to be armed and armored than not and risk getting captured. Your objective is Recon of the Capital and On-Site-Procurement of anything of interest. Data files, documents, schematics- anything of use, Since this 'Empire' is at the beck and call of someone called Palpatine. Whether or not he's related to Anubis, Just don't get caught, understood?" Leon nodded; a flicker of a smile flashing across his face as he internalized his excitement of this mission. Clicking his heels together and straightening up, he along with the rest of his fireteam snapped a salute to Marcus, who returned it as they then exited the Bridge. Marcus pivoted on his foot and strode back to his chair, speaking up. "Issac, pull up the main display and ensure everyone's helmet-cam and VISR is working properly. UNICOM-NAVCOM channels are to be opened and monitored." The white hologram nodded, snapping into a salute as he vanished into the bridge. At the center of the room was a wall that had a thick pane of glass over it; the glass powering up with a flash of light before sectioning into six equal windows of blackness before materializing into the separate video feeds of the Helijumpers. In the lower right corner of each was a separate panel dedicated to the monitoring of each user's vitals, as well as their MOS.

As the team made their way to the hangar bay, they boarded the Pelican and sat in the troop bay as they secured themselves to the inside of the craft. Marcus spoke loud enough for the panel to register speech, and instantly, his voice was relayed to the inside of all six helmets. "Your callsign for this op is Sentinel 1-1, Leon. Synchronize to acknowledge." Leon's speaker was silent, but as soon as the green authentication message came through to the panel, he spoke back to Marcus. "Sync'd, Sir." Marcus nodded. The pilot was seen giving the thumbs-up from the cockpit of the dropship; the door sealing and the cabin pressurizing as the massive engines of the Pelican whirred to life as a dull drone captured by Leon's helmet. Suddenly, all six cameras briefly emitted static as the craft lurched upward and forwards; the ventral hangar bay opening as the Pelican flew out of the airlock. Once within a safe distance, the dropship gunned all four engines and the VTOL was now flying toward the biggest mass of lights not too far from the center of the planet.

Marcus stood feet from the panel as he called out. "How are things looking?"

"Systems are good, no interference with the VISR. Beyond that, it'd a bit of a bumpy ride."

"That's what she sai-"

"Can it, Martinez. Sorry, Sir."

Marcus smirked and shook his head. "No problem; I was once around the bunch in my time. For this op, extraction will be on standby should problems arise. Get in, get out, and don't overstay your welcome."

"Sentinel 1-1 copies all; out."

Marcus estimated that it would take another fifteen minutes before they would arrive on the ship. Once that happened, theye'd be out of range. He could only hope whoever or whatever was down there was amicable to diplomacy.

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SENTINEL 1-1; GLASGOW
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It had been a day since the Pelican boarded the Glasgow, and the team had little issues adjusting to the presence of being onboard another ship. In a way, the architectural design reminded them of the UNSC's Orbital Defense Platform interiors. Spacious, dull-colored and comfortable. Hell, anything was better on a ship than a glassed cityscape. The seven men sat at one of the mess tables, bantering among themselves and mostly chastising the pilot. The pilot's name was Liam; a red-headed Scotsman who wasn't afraid to fight fire with fire; the ODST's liked the flyboy already.

"So Liam- is this thing about the Navy true? Nibbling on appetizers while they fly from place to place, basking in air-conditioned comfort? I didn't see a tray of cocktail shrimp and feel any breezes when we were on route to the Glasgow." Leon joked, making Liam roll his eyes. "Ay, get tha' aloot. Sorreh ta say, but us pilots dun git ta chow down while flyin'. Health hazard."

Leon gave the pilot a look of indignation. "Health hazard? As if flying is more dangerous than dropping into a hot zone with nothing but a pod that can malfunction at any point during the drop? I want a refund." Liam snorted, then spoke up with mock agitation of his own. "Lad, Yer bum's oot the windae. 'magine this aye? Yer flyin' inta 'Ell itself, dodgin' anti-aircraft fire goin' aboot a hunnred in-free tryin' ta not get shot up. Suddenly ya hear gaggin' from tha' back, and yer co-pilot fookin' bokes all o'er tha' goddamn back o'yer heid! Tha's a right scunner, it is." Leon broke into a hardy laugh as his men roared in kind, with Liam chuckling soon after. Upon recovering, he spoke up again. "Earned me wings, tha' one did. Still gettin' surrehs from ma pilot 'eretime I pass him by. E's here, too. Back on tha' Hoop because I didn't trust him fer this one."

Leon snorted, nodding. "With a stomach like that, who would?" The alarm blared as a notable lurch was felt, prompting the team to get up. "Well, looks like this is it. Helmets and gear; people. Liam, if they're landing, you're coming with if the Pelican isn't used. You got a PDW?" The Scotsman nodded, then tapped his right hip where an M7 SMG was holstered. "Alright; everyone on me. Let's go find the rest of the squads."

Leon and his team made their way out of the messhall and to the assembly point, with Liam tagging behind. Although they had an extra gun, the Scotsman was a flyboy. A Marine pilot, but not as experienced as them. Perhaps he'd give him the benefit of the doubt if things went south, and made a mental note to ensure Liam's protection at all cost. After all, he was their ride home after all was said and done.
@EliteCommander I'll consider it, certainly.


UNSC Unbroken Hope


[h3]0830 Hours, April 15th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Interacting with: [?]

The mess-hall was alight with activity, even before Marcus had began to sit down with his cup of coffee. Choosing to seat himself down at the table farthest from the entrance to the room, he watched as the majority of service personnel filed in and approached the counter to receive their breakfasts. He could clearly- almost distinctly tell who was a fresh-faced recruit and who was a stone-faced veteran, simply by the way they carried themselves. That, and how the Helijumpers had taken to wearing all-black fatigues whereas the Marines wore their standard greens. Taking a sip of the steaming black liquid, he wondered how many fights these people had gotten themselves into onboard his ship for petty trivialities like rank and who-did-what. As more people filed into the room, already he had spotted a few familiar faces from the bridge, and some from below. Artyom spotted him and nodded; silently signaling that he was going to make his way over when he obtained his tray to which Marcus nodded back. Looking up, he already saw three figures making their way toward him. The first was a man dressed in an all white flight uniform; contrasting sharply against dark caramel skin with matching dark brown hair and eyes. The second, a lean yet muscular man donning the typical black short-sleeve tank top of the Helijumpers; each arm nearly covered in ink as much as scars pockmarked his body against the visage of a square-jaw, short blond hair and deep blue eyes. The third, a slender, athletic woman donning the typical green short sleeve and long combat pants of a Marine. She had black, short hair and pale blue eyes. They seated themselves at his table uninvited, and Marcus knew he was going to be met with a volley of questions without backup from Artyom.

"Amir, Leon, Elizabeth. Good to see you all." Despite his calm facade, he internally reeled at the thought of knowing the blame of being stranded out in an anomalous sector would inevitably come back to him. Already, he'd suspected they'd each come to give him a verbal lashing on endangering the lives of the men under their command, but Marcus was prepared to counter, and accept the responsibility. As they neatly set themselves down at the table, each of them gave him a curt nod in return in being addressed. Finally, Elizabeth broke the silence. "Good to see you too, Admiral. I... realize we've all been quite unexpectedly brought into a universe that isn't our own. It wasn't your fault, and Issac told us everything from the meeting on the Resurgence. Granted, that doesn't mean I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't make the right call- but you have us to see it through should the Unbroken Hope perform any external operations." Marcus blinked, internally sighing in relief as he quietly took another sip of his coffee. Leon spoke up next. "My men are fine. I'm assuming we'll be working in tandem with the Spartans for the majority of any covert ops you have for us." Marcus nodded, and didn't need to know how the man felt about the Super soldiers; the word was practically laced with an underlying venom. Amir spoke up finally,. "Everything is it working order on our end- but I am admittedly concerned. We have 10 Pelicans and 14 Longswords. Not to compare on how Battleplating does, but we haven't exactly flow into.. laser fire before. Blaster laser fire, yes? Would our weaponry even work against them?"

Now the real questions were being asked, right on time as Artyom came over and seated himself close to Marcus. Long before he became an Admiral, Marcus joined the Marines in 2532, serving for fifteen years before transferring over to the Navy. He'd had his share of close calls before, and knew how well their weapons worked against the Covenant despite being more primitive to their tech by moss on a rock. Yet, those troopers onboard the Resurgence were from here. Would a 7.62x45mm go through that armor despite their military moving to blaster warfare? Not to mention shielding, ship-board weapons, missiles and armor. Several second of a ponder later, and the Admiral spoke up with a grim expression on his face. "I don't know, Amir. The only things I can see matching up and potentially exceeding with anything in this place is our MAC Cannons, and anything explosive provided it is not intercepted and shot down. When I was on the Resurgence, there was a woman there who claimed she had no other choice but to bring us here. 'Us' being ourselves and every other 'delegate' in that room- including the Elite. Beyond offering upgrades, I've put in a request for any and all information on just exactly what we're up against. Until I can ensure that we're not throwing wood into a fire, I'm having everyone refrain from any military engagement. If our hands are forced, so be it, but I don't intend fighting a battle we can't win, even with upgrades." Marcus concluded, and Amir nodded. The Admiral looked up and around with a sudden perplexion, turning to Elizabeth. "Where's Jackson?"

"Medbay. Delayed release in Cryo meant he got... burnt. He's stable and recovering, but understandably pissed off. We've all had time to relay the news to our men, and some have taken it a bit harder than others. We've got more than a few people who were going to come home within the next month. Security's been tightened around some sections of the barracks because of stress, and anyone below CO is holding a grudge against people like us. As if we're responsible because we told them the bad news. Only reason Briggs is upset is because, and I quote, 'If I were out there, I'd make them quit cryin' or give them something to really cry about." Liz purposefully spoke an octave lower, making Amir snort and Leon nearly choke on his breakfast. Marcus chuckled and shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee as Leon recovered and cleared his throat. "I think the most difficult part for now is on matters of military intelligence. We simply don't have access to an ONI probe, or SATCOM. Which means unless a Recon team goes down, we're not going to have much Intel on what exactly we'll be walking into. Which means we'll have to consistently balance extremes to avoid bringing a mountain to a molehill, and vice versa."

As Marcus finished the last of his coffee, he nodded to Leon's point. "I'm in agreement, and the last thing I want to do is set a bad example of 'not pulling my weight' when I'm simply being cautious about the lives of my personnel. Down to the last man, we're not expendable. It seemed that way given the circumstances back home, but then again, that was ONI talking. To them, we're all expendable if it meant trading lives for time. Thankfully, they're not here and we can rest easy about that, and plan ahead on what we're going to do next. Rest assured as a plan develops, I'll be sure to have you all head up to the bridge for a meeting." As the activity was winding down, the five servicemembers stood up from the table and exited the mess-hall. Artyom walked alongside Marcus as the pair made their way to the elevator; the Navigation's Officer speaking up along the way. "Thought you were going to get slaughtered by those three, Admiral. I'm surprised they took it as well as they did." Marcus nodded, speaking in return to his compatriot as he lead with a sigh. "We have to. All of us- have to realize that as overwhelming as the situation is, we need to keep optimistic that we're going to get out of here alive. I went over this in the meeting aboard that ship, and the only one I'd even see remotely being in agreement with my words is the Sangheili. Keep in mind, these guys aren't Covenant- hell I'm surprised that Sangheili actually chose to listen over attacking. Not to say that I'm not suspicious of their motives, but as crazy as it sounds, we're going to need to trust them until proven otherwise."

Artyom gave a gruff "hmph," as they made their way back to the bridge. Upon entering, Issac and the crew quickly snapped a salute to the Admiral, then relaxed as Marcus nodded. The duo approached the table, where the white-colored hologram spoke up to address the pair shortly after. "Morning Admiral, Navigation's Officer. We've been idling around the giant station and monitoring the mineral extraction procedures. Kind of strange how similarly it mirrors our own methods with the Turops-class vessels back home. NAVCOM channels have been open-band since the delegations finished so that the other ships can contact us should they choose, but we haven't heard anything back from anyone." Marcus nodded, and out a hand underneath his chin in thought before speaking up. "I'm not going to reach out unless contacted. I really didn't get an official order from the acting FLEETCOM when everyone left the CiC. As far as I'm concerned for the moment, they come to us and we follow with discretion. That factory is supposedly able to produce ships essentially from our universe, but placing an order for something as small as a Paris-Class would mean that we'd have to divert a significant portion of our crew over to the ship. Unless... Do you think it could be automated?"

Issac raised an eyebrow. "I uh... haven't considered that possibility before. Automating it would obviously work, but not without creating a second copy of my functions to run the thing from a DCC. Plus if there's no crew, the abilities to actually make sure the thing doesn't get crippled during a fight would be counterproductive to operations. Also, my functions would be significantly reduced by 50%. This is a double-edged broadsword, Admiral." Marcus sighed, nodding. "I'll think on it. For now, just resume as we are. I'll be here in case anything significant comes up."

"Aye, Sir." Issac said, snapping another salute as he vanished into the table. Artyom pivoted on a heel and moved away from the bridge and back to his station, with Marcus himself going over to the Command Chair and taking a seat. It felt like hitting a wall, yet there was a notable crack in the middle. As he started out into the oynx-tinted void, the massive rectangular station caught his eye as he observed the tiny yellow pods go to and from the nearby asteroid field; their hulls emitting trails of particulate dust that swirled gracefully behind the blue engine lights. A secondary ship would certainly help, but dividing the crew to 500 and not having anyone with specialized training would be just as ineffective as Issac's baseline automation of the frigate. He'd have to ask questions, and despised the thought of reaching out first. Surely there would be a silver lining in all of this, right? Marcus sighed, slinking back in the chair and quelling his anxieties silently to himself. He hoped that the rest of his people weren't taking it as hard as he was.
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