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Author Topic: Reveille  (Read 22930 times)
Spartan-777
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« Reply #30 on: October 11, 2012, 08:56:01 PM »

Miles did as instructed, following the procession down the hallway and making a mental note that the procurement of superior firepower might be in order, if things continued going south.

He reloaded his magnum sidearm, slipping the spent magazine into an empty pouch and slapping a new one into place. He racked the slide before making sure the safety was most definitely set to off.
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« Reply #31 on: October 15, 2012, 05:41:56 PM »

The team made there way forward, Donald and Dom leading the way.    Things were quiet for most of the way, the only signs of the battle going on the ship was corpses, blood and dropped equipment from both sides.   

"I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing" murmured Dom as he carefully stepped over the corpse of a fallen Marine.   "Who won?"

"Safer to assume we have a  Covenant patrol ahead of us who mopped up this squad, rather than our boys having cleared the way for us and are waiting for us at the Bubblebee with biscuits and milk.   Stay alert, this firefight seems relatively fresh".

"Yeah yeah Gunnery Sergeant Senile, why don't you put on your tinfoil helmet and try and contact your space hula hoop".   Dom held up a hand signal to stop as he looted a fresh assault rifle mag from a dead body, and he took another pistol and ammo for it.   Lord only knew when'd they would be able resupply again?
"We should probably get as much ammo as we can from these guys, maybe some weapons too.   Who knows when we'll be able to resupply when we get off the Autumn?"

"If we make it off" muttered Donald as he too picked up some fresh mags.
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Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness.
Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand—
Kalahira, wash the sins from this one,
And set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit.
Kalahira, this one’s heart is pure,
But beset by wickedness and contention.
Guide this one to where the traveler never tires,
The lover never leaves, the hungry never starve.
Guide this one, Kalahira,
And he will be a companion to you as he was to me.

"All life dies, all worlds too, and if there is guarenteed perpetual existence, after that - what does it matter how the end comes?" - Gravemind
BEB0P
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« Reply #32 on: October 16, 2012, 06:49:34 AM »

As Deamon knelled before a body of a fallen Marine. He sighed lightly, but decided not to mourn her death. At this point in the war, there was no time for complaining and sitting around thinking about what once was... Instead, the veteran ODST simply scavenged the Marine's battle armour. His spoils, a single fragmentation grenade, and two small packages of shotgun shells, each containing six rounds. While not as much as Deamon had hoped for, it would do, for now.

Finally he withdrew the Marine's sidearm and dog tags. With a last glance, he gently closed her eyes and stored the pistol. "Right... We're not that far from the ventilation shaft. Dom, I want you on point..." As Deamon spoke, muffled, but weighted thumps could be heard around November Team. The standard Orbital Shock Drop Trooper helmet was not equipped with any sort of immediate IFF receiver. And even as Deamon attempted to pull it up, it was increasingly aware that whatever was in the walls, was surrounding them.

But as Deamon gestured for his team to be at attention, a single Covenant Grunt bursted from the ceiling duct above him, maliciously bloodthirstily pouncing on the ODST. The soldier shouted in panic, but was quick to remain in control of the situation. The weight of the Grunt sent them both to the deck, and it would seem that with the sizable claws, the pudgy alien would have the advantage. But even as they grappled, an entire swarm of Grunts fell from the ceiling; all squawking and shrieking as they ambushed November Team from every possible angle.

Knowing that the shrieks of the Grunt warriors would only suffice in gaining the attention of their allies, the team would have to act swiftly, and without hesitation. Deamon mustered up a small amount of energy and kneed his opponent in what he assumed was its groin. Then, when the Grunt was very briefly incapacitated, he fumbled for the combat knife located on the subordinate side of his chest-plate(Better known by few as the "Cross-draw position") and delivered a lightning-quick swipe across the alien donned in orange armour's neck; adding a personal touch by booting its breather mask and away from him.

"Fight them off, but keep moving for the ventilation shaft!" He barked to the rest of the team as he drew his M6-series sidearm and took aim at a Grunt wearing crimson armour. As it leaped for Marcus, Deamon fired two shots and the creature- both planted firmly in its skull and arm. He backed closer to Dominic and Donald.
« Last Edit: October 16, 2012, 06:53:00 AM by SamuraiBebop105 » Logged


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« Reply #33 on: October 17, 2012, 08:37:15 PM »

"Get off me you little shit!"

Amelia was tackled to the ground by the Grunt, and in the process becoming separated from her rifle. She pushed the creature off her and rolled over. As she began crawling for her assault rifle, the Grunt took hold of her ankle.

"Fuck off!"

She kicked the Grunt in the face with her spare foot. Once, twice, three times. "Fuck off, I said!" The fourth kick sent the grabby little runt rolling back. She then successfully took her rifle back in arms and rolled onto her back. As the Grunt attempted to leap at her again, she fired with a strong squeeze of the trigger. More ammunition spent than necessary, but at least it was dead.

Now covered in alien blood instead of human, Amelia stood up and prepared to follow Deamon's orders. She began slowly backing towards the ventilation shaft, firing short bursts on the ambushing Grunts.
 
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Spartan-777
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« Reply #34 on: October 17, 2012, 09:22:06 PM »

The squat figure hurtled towards Marcus on all fours, barking in their high-pitched alien tongue. After the initial shock had subsided, he realized that this was probably the ideal outcome of an ambush: the little ones were cowardly and poorly trained. It was certainly better than encountering Elites with active camo.

A double-tap stopped his assailant dead in its tracks, sending a thin stream of high-pressure methane jetting from the ruptured harness, and he suddenly found himself praying that none of the things ignited during the ensuing firefight. His sidearm excelled at close-quarters combat, but he didn't want to be cooked alive if something sparked off one of the tanks.

Something grabbed his foot as he fumbled for a reload, and the pilot delivered a particularly satisfying face-stomp to the creature below. The gas mask crunched beneath his boot, but the Grunt held on. "Stupid midget!"

He didn't know whether it understood him or not, but it seemed to get the gist from his tone of voice. After another moment of struggling, alien teeth clamped down on the pilot's leg.
« Last Edit: October 17, 2012, 09:25:11 PM by Spartan-777 » Logged

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« Reply #35 on: October 21, 2012, 11:50:23 PM »

"Son of a bitch- Verve!" Deamon dispatched three more Grunt Minors and hurled his combat into the head of the Grunt clamping its mouth on Marcus' leg. "Verve, help me get Miles!" He waved her over and took his knife out of the miniature alien.

"Can you walk?" He asked Marcus.
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« Reply #36 on: October 22, 2012, 02:23:50 PM »

Amelia arrived promptly, nudging Daemon away from Marcus as she kneeled down beside him. "Let me worry about that; you cover us."

She brought over her pack and fished for a bandage. As she did, she pushed the pilot onto the floor and lifted the injured leg up and onto hers so it was elevated.

"You're fine," she said calmly, wiping the wound clear and wrapping the bandage around the injured area several times. After that was done, she lifted the leg off hers and dropped it onto the floor. That could have been done more delicately, but there was not time for special treatment. She stood and then extended her hand, "Let's see if you can put pressure on it."   
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Spartan-777
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« Reply #37 on: October 22, 2012, 09:22:07 PM »

Marcus stood up. "I'm fine. I hope it wasn't rabid or something."

As far as battle scars went, it was an unspectacular one: the teeth marks were clearly visible, but didn't seem to have broken the skin. He shook it off, and hoped the boarders would be dealt with soon.
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« Reply #38 on: October 23, 2012, 03:44:22 PM »

Amelia nodded, "If you go rabid we'll just put ya' down." Not clarifying whether or not she was joking, she then turned around to Daemon.

"We're good! Let's get the hell out of here!"
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« Reply #39 on: October 23, 2012, 07:27:35 PM »

Deamon loaded his shotgun to capacity. "Couldn't agree mo-..." Suddenly the Pillar of Autumn's, began to groan from stress. In the distance, a few muffled 'pops' could be heard. Deamon swallowed hard. "That's... not a good sound. Everyone up that shaft. Donald first, then me, Marcus, Verve, and lastly Dom."

The lights soon went out as the Sergeant motioned everyone for the ventilation shaft.
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« Reply #40 on: October 27, 2012, 05:16:41 PM »

(OoC: Hope no one minds, but I'ma push ahead here)

As the lights went out, Verve rushed everyone up the shaft. "I ain't fighting in the dark! Get your asses up there!" Once those ahead of her were in, she rushed after, quickly activating her rifle's flashlight.
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« Reply #41 on: October 30, 2012, 09:22:09 PM »

Marcus crawled up into the shaft, trying not to think of what might happen to them should shooting start in such close quarters.

He kept bumping into someone; the standard M6 didn't come with a light. But soon enough, a piercing white beam cut through the darkness.

"Let there be light," he muttered.
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« Reply #42 on: October 31, 2012, 12:51:02 AM »

The Pillar of Autumn's frame continued to groan, and again muffled explosions of varied distance could be heard all around November Team. After helping up Dom, who was the last member to climb to the top of the shaft, Deamon produced the shells he had lifted off of the dead Marine from earlier from his rucksack, and proceeded to load his still empty shotgun. Once finished, Deamon rose back to his feet, and switched on his weapon's flashlight.

Suddenly, a distress call pierced the earpieces of November Team's communications equipment. "This is Corporal Daniel Anderson, I am pinned down with three others at Airlock sixty-four. Are there- Aagh!" An explosion could be heard not only through the comm, and November Team could hear the blast from their current position. The transmission continued. "If there are any You-Enn-Ess-See forces in the vicinity, we could use your help!"
Deamon exhaled with some relief. They could use a slight increase in numbers. He tapped his comm piece. "Corporal Anderson, this is Sergeant Deamon Puskas of November Team. We read you, and my team and I are about two-hundred metres total from your current location. Just hang tight, we'll flank the enemy for you."
There was static over the comms, but a response pulled through. "That's great to hear Sergeant! We'll keep them occupied as long as we can- Be advised, our Enn-See-Oh is down. I repeat, our Enn-See-Oh is down!"
The Sergeant gestured forward. "Come on, November. No time to waste!"

He took point the rest of the journey. And in the dim light he could make out the shapes of three Elites and a pair of Grunts combating a quartet of Marines in medium to close combat. Deamon rushed to the nearest Grunt, and used the stock of his shotgun to dispatch the monkey-esque creature with a satisfying cracking sound. The Elites soon took notice, and roared at the sight of the newcomers, opening fire immediately. The veteran ODST barely had time to hip-fire before covering in an indent in the wall. "Marcus, get to that lifeboat and fire it up, we'll cover you!"

The covering Marines had not shied away from the fight; Two of them focused on two of the Elites, while another assisted November Team by picking off the final Grunt. It was up to November Team to finish off the last of the Covenant forces.

((OoC: Sev, I imagine it will take a bit for Marcus to not only unlock the hatch for the Bumblebee, but start it up, as well. This will give us some room for a brief standoff before launching, reveling at the Halo, and ending the thred before we break into 04's atmo.))

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« Reply #43 on: November 03, 2012, 02:32:51 AM »

Marcus wasted no time in getting to the lifepod. After exiting the shaft, casting a quick glance down both ends of the corridor, and sending a quick volley of pistol fire in the direction of Covenant forces, the pilot tore down the hallway. Plasma ripped through the air behind him and splashed against the walls.

He skidded to a stop at the airlock, quickly punching in his authorization code on a side panel and hurrying into the craft.

"Bringin' her online!"
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« Reply #44 on: November 03, 2012, 05:08:14 PM »

Upon determining the fireteam's NCO was indeed dead, Amelia ran for the small gap in between the hall and the Bumblebee escape pod.

"Covering fire!"

As she unloaded the last of her ammunition, she squinted at the thought of the doctors in the medbay she promised to go back for. But she and the rest of November made it to an escape pod; hopefully they did too. Her friend, too, who called her to the armory; he wasn't there when she arrived. And those pilots... there was no way they could have handled those Hunters on their own. So many people and things she was unsure of... where the hell were they escaping too? Were they really better off in that cramped little ship? The Covenant would blow them out of the sky? And what was this ring-thing? She was yet to see.

Orders were orders.
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