RP:Beyond Veil's Azure

§ Beyond Veil's Azure § A COLLABORATIVE CREATIVE ROLEPLAY INTEGRATING COMMUNITY AND CREATIVE STORYTELLING    The roleplay has begun! Anyone may still join. Please feel free to join, and then to write as the roleplay continues. Contact RelentlessRecusant  if there's any questions.



IN EVERY WAR, THERE ARE MULTIPLE STRATEGIES. Attack and siege. Defense and retreat. Final stands and glorious battles. These have all been tried before. By the UNSC and the Covenant, by the Forerunners and Flood before them. War has never been waged any other way, until now.

It starts, a rogue scarlet spark pulsating in the midnight dark. It swells, engorging with blood and strength, drawing together her countless, vast armies. She is a depthless infinity, a boundless expanse, and existence in herself, alpha and omega held in her hands. Velvet darkness descends, slaying the graceful dawn, suffocating the stars.

This is a story of an ending of an age. How darkness overthrows two hundred millennia of humanity, turns back the clock. This is the end. The twilight of the UNSC. It starts now. THE YEAR IS 2594 — four decades after the end of the Human-Covenant War. The War was long ago. We healed from those scars. Human ambition has leaped across the stars, and we have spread thousands of colonies across the stars, scattering our seed around the galaxy. We are a wildfire, and with every year comes another breakthrough. Medical science has saved countless lives from disease. Governmental power has been returned to the civilian population from the military dictatorship. The rich grow richer, but supercorporations make the necessities of life available even to the poor. We all prosper.

WE BEAT SWORDS INTO PLOWSHARES. We are the friends and economic partners of the Covenant. We are safe. Our heroes, the soldiers of the War, now rest with their grandchildren at home. We are at peace.

THE ENEMY BIDES HER TIME. With every victory, we lose. With every breakthrough, she breaks through us. She sabotages our society, falling us to our knees. She has waited in the dark of dusk too long. NIGHT FALLS ON HUMANITY. THE END IS NOW,

BEYOND THE VEIL'S AZURE.

Introduction
"Beyond Veil's Azure" is a tentative collaborative roleplay written by RelentlessRecusant and possibly co-written in collaboration with other administrators. More information to follow. :) Specific information is not available at the time, but interested participants may for the interim contact me at my talk page or my email address (relentlessrecusant@gmail.com). It may be likely that Dragonclaws and / or Rotaretilbo (both administrators of Halo Fan Fiction Wikia) will have moderator positions.

Plotline Background
BEYOND VEIL'S AZURE is the second epoch of the Halo continuity. The Human-Covenant War and the Halo installations, our feuds with the Covenant; all this and more has been forgotten. It is peace within the veil.

This is the next generation of Halo. We star new characters, new heroes, a new epic.

The UNSC Defense Force is now truly a defense force, a territorial force that patrols our colonies. Long forgotten are the titanic weapons and gargantuan vehicles of the War. We forget that we once spilled our blood to ensure that humanity's tender flame was kindled. Our diminished, withered armies and navies do not care for warfare; we have not fought a single battle for nearly forty years. We keep our homes safe from terrorists, from rebels, from pirates. Our special forces are no longer the SPARTANs, those titans that fought the Covenant and shed their blood on our soil. We now have the Myrmidons, the second generation of SPARTANs; highly capable child soldiers with advanced augmentations and training that specifically perform counterterrorism actions. We do not wage war anymore with any armies.

We ask you to fill the rosters of our new humanity. Characters are specifically requested to be UNSC special warfare operators, either in the UNSC Army Ranger Corps, in UNSC Force Reconnaissance, in the UNSC Navy Naval Special Warfare, or in the Office of Naval Intelligence's elite Myrmidon next-generation SPARTAN company. We are highly interested in skilled writers and roleplayers that will make very unique characters, and we are definitely amenable to accepting highly unique and interesting civilian characters or those from other branches of service.

As nighttime draws its cloak across us, there will be warfare, of shed blood, of dying worlds, dying stars. This will be an action-oriented roleplay (RP), featuring both detailed counterterrorism and atrocious large-scale battles. The UNSC special forces fulfill a unique role in the UNSC Defense Force that gives them maximum capability to be involved.

Please speak to RelentlessRecusant about your characters; he offers an opportunity to collaborate with authors that have especially unique characters, and is highly willing to collaborate to form FOTM-grade articles that may be competitively nominated in the future for the Fanon of the Month. This is intended to be a talented and creative project, and we all look forward to the possibilities.

Playable Factions
This is a list of special forces factions that we encourage roleplayers to create characters in and to actively participate in the main plotline, which revolves around the operators of Task Force 51 in their counterinsurgency operations and their unconventional actions to follow... We are highly interested, however, in extremely unique characters and welcome characters that are not limited to these SF units, especially civilians.


 * UNSC Ranger Corps (UNSC Army)
 * The Rangers are the principal reaction force of the UNSC Special Operations Command. At the battalion level, they are an integrated, flexible joint strike force integrating forces across the operational continuum; combining elite light infantry, mechanized forces, aviation assets, indirect fires, and support elements into a singular high-mobility task force that is prepared to reflexively react to hostile conditions in the battlespace. Ranger forces actively support the UNSCSOCOM mission and Ranger infantrymen support operators of Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Naval Special Warfare (UNSC Navy)
 * UNSC Naval Special Warfare (NAVSPECWAR) is a tier-one UNSC Special Operations Command division, and is primarily an elite military counterterrorism and counterinsurgency force. While the actions of the Human-Covenant War have forced NAVSPECWAR to perform more mainstream roles in the expansion of the strategic options of UNSC theater commanders, where NAVSPECWAR participated in special reconnaissance and strategic strikes, with the advent of the War's end, NAVSPECWAR has returned to its more traditional counterterrorism and counterinsurgency roles, and NAVSPECWAR Six operators are a core force of Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance (UNSC Marine Corps)
 * UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance (FORCE RECON) is a conventional special operations force (SOF) of the UNSC Special Operations Command, and during the Human-Covenant War, participated in special operations across the battlespace spectrum, performing deep reconnaissance to expand the intelligence assets of the theater commander and providing direct action to surgically obstruct the operations of the hostile contingent and limit the tactical options of the enemy commander. FORCE RECON operators field counterinsurgency roles in Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN (UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence)
 * II Detachment ("SPARTAN-IIs")
 * The SPARTAN-IIs of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment II manifest themselves in the form of a single, three-person team in Task Force 51. Highly experienced in covert operations, sabotage, and causing general havoc behind enemy lines, the IIs of Azure Team were, and are still, hailed as "the heroes of Minorca.


 * III Detachment ("SPARTAN-IIIs")
 * The SPARTAN-IIIs of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment III are a company-level asset in Task Force 51. They are highly experienced shock troops with counterinsurgency experience, and are the mentors of the younger Myrmidons.


 * IV Detachment ("Myrmidons")
 * The Myrmidons of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment IV are a company-level asset in Task Force 51. Myrmidon special warfare operators are principal operators on all counterinsurgency and counterterrorism operations performed by TF51, and are characterized by their expeditious speed and surgical efficiency, and Myrmidon operations are high-risk direct action missions that exactingly neutralize an enemy's strategic options, disabling rather than destructive, leaving the enemy commander vulnerable to conventional UNSC infantry forces.

Friendly UNSC Forces

 * Task Force 51 (TF51): UNSC joint strike force that integrates elite operational detachments from every uniformed service in UNSCSOCOM and strategic intelligence from the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence to surgically cauterize increasing concentrations of destructive insurgent activity in the UNSC Outer Rim (the "Borderlands"). Task Force 51 responsibilities principally include counterinsurgency and counterproliferation (CP) of weapons of mass destruction, but also include counterterrorism (CT), psychological operations (PSYOPS), foreign internal defense (FID) and unconventional warfare (UW) to raise indigenous forces against rebellion, and civil-military operations (CMO) to align indigenous forces to the UNSC cause and to obstruct rebel or terrorist recruiting.
 * Kawika Son: Decorated former NAVSPECWAR Six operator that participated in notable combat actions, such as the Battle of Cambridge, the Battle of the Ark, and the hunt for the Forerunner Dreadnaught. Currently holds rank of Vice Admiral (VADM, O-9) with the UNSC Navy / UNSC Special Operations Command, and serves as the senior director of the Myrmidon Program. Because of the major deployment of Myrmidon squadrons to TF51, he also serves as the commander of Task Force 51, and Admiral Son has been principally responsible for TF51 and the majority of UNSC counterinsurgency operations in the Outer Rim.
 * UNSC Counterforce Task Force (CTF): UNSC Navy / UNSC Medical Corps noncombatant task force attached to UNSCSOCOM responsible for the consequence management of the deployment of weapons of mass destruction (WMD), such as thermonuclear capabilities or chem-biol capabilities, or else weapons of mass effect (WME), such as high-yield explosives or the usage of orbital weapons. CTF specialists are often attached to Task Force 51 counterproliferation (CP) operations, where they are expected to suppress, neutralize, and defuse active WMDs and also counterterrorism (CT) operations involving the threat of WMD or WME deployment.
 * UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure: UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence / UNSC Navy stealth frigate currently on reconnaissance-in-force deployment in the Sagittarius Arm, tens of thousands of light-years towards the Galactic Core, far away from the UNSC Outer Rim and Task Force 51's counterinsurgency operations.
 * Kimberly Ivy Blackburn: Former special warfare operator of the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three, and the integral force of PATRIOT / FORECAST. Now forty years old, ten years ago, a highly controvertible arrangement between SPARTAN-091, and Beah Schore, the UNSC Defense Council has resulted in her voluntary retirement from UNSC Special Operations Command. Nepotistic connections with Schore have granted her a position at Harvard University, Department of Stem Cell & Regenerative Biology and Harvard Stem Cell Institute at Cambridge, Massachusetts in Sherman-Fairchild Biochemistry, where she is a Whitney Hayes postdoctoral fellow. She was the paradigm behind the Myrmidon initiative, and was the first demonstration that a human embryo can be manipulated through a chemical biology platform of small-molecule chemical probes, and that combinatorial teratogenesis and postnatal manipulation favorably promotes militarily-useful biological traits. She was an experimental platform for the experimental in utero usage of SCARLET, a Flood mimetic comprised of small-molecule compounds that in vitro is a mutagen and teratogen that promotes the extremely rare expression of quasi-Flood characteristics in cultured cell lines in tissue culture. Recently, the dissection of the molecular mechanisms behind Flood physiology has led to significant advances in stem cell biology and regenerative medicine, and the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence is interested in the harnessing of particular Flood characteristics, such as augmented cellular regeneration through non-focal telomeric activity, and also modified myocyte physiology, which have been of investigation in the Myrmidon Program. She is a noncombatant on Earth without combat capability.
 * UNSC Special Operations Aviation Reconnaissance (SOAR): UNSC Army special aviator unit, operating fixed-wing and rotary aviation assets in support of UNSC special operations forces. SOAR is a support force of Task Force 51, and has logistical and deployment responsibilities in support of UNSC special forces.

Principal Plotlines

 * "Task Force 51" (Midgard): UNSC special forces counter an onslaught of highly intensive terrorist and rebel activities on Midgard, a planet in the Outer Rim. Substantial deaths of UNSC civilians and guerrilla attrition of UNSC soldiers stationed on the planet have led to the popular labeling of Midgard as the "new Iraq" or the "new Charybdis IX", and the inability of UNSC forces to put an end to the killings has led to the frustration of many in the UNSC civilian populace and the UNSC military. Task Force 51, led by VADM Kawika Son, is now the main player in UNSC counterinsurgency operations on Midgard. Hundreds of thousands of civilians have been killed after thousands of small rebel and terrorist activities; guerilla attacks, hostage events, bombings. However, a rare few suspect that this is only the beginning of something far larger. It is inevitable that actions on Midgard will climax as the civilian and military casualties mount. No group has claimed responsibility for the attacks on Midgard. ( Principal plotline )
 * "A Troubled Home Front": Isolated curious happenstances have coincidentally conflicted with rebel and terrorist activity in the Outer Rim. In 2590, Madeline Son, the daughter of UNSC special forces commanders Kawika Son and Chandler Danial and a UNSC Naval Special Warfare specialist, went missing on a deep reconnaissance in the Cygnus Arm of the galaxy aboard the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth during reconnaissance of NGC 2359. Intensive search-and-rescue (SAR) and hostage search operations for months have yielded no trace of Madeline nor the Beckon Dusk Forth, and ceremonies for Madeline were held at the Asphodel Meadows Naval Special Warfare Center. Ever since, both Admiral Son and Master Chief Danial have been socially withdrawn and disturbed by the loss of their daughter thousands of light-years from Earth. Furthermore, recently, colleagues of Kim Blackburn have noted obsessive behavior, and beyond the public's eye, there is potential corporate intrigue emerging at the highest levels of Jennings & Rall and Acumen Science Laboratories, two eminent UNSC corporations...
 * "Deep Reconnaissance": In 2554, the UNSC Beneath Shoreless Waves, a guided missile frigate (FFG) of the UNSC Navy, found a Forerunner construct on Carinae-312 in the NGC 3576 nebula, towards the Galactic Core, which led to the brief but bloody Memory Conflict, almost collapsing the UNSC in a matter of days. However, the discovery of more Forerunner installations beyond the Halos has excited many UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence officers, and a select number of UNSC warships, such as the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure, have been dispatched on deep reconnaissance missions thousands of light-years away in the Sagittarius or Cygnus Arms of the Milky Way Galaxy under Operation: PURPLE WILLOW. A small Myrmidon team is aboard the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure, and the Beyond Veil's Azure and its UNSC special forces team are set to reconnoiter the Henize 3-1357 nebula in the ongoing search for Forerunner installations.

Roleplay Locations
''More to come soon. In order to keep the RP principally focused, the beginning of the RP, which features Task Force 51's actions, center on Midgard. Shortly afterwards the RP will become much more freeform and will occur on multiple locations, as per the desire of the roleplayers.''


 * Midgard (11 Draconis System): Please see the actual page for more information. Principal location for the beginning of the roleplay, and host to Task Force 51's counterinsurgency operations.
 * Henize 3-1357: Planetary nebula, the reconnaissance target of the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure under deep reconnaissance campaign Operation: PURPLE WILLOW, eight thousand-light years from Earth towards the Galactic Core and Sagittarius A*, in the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.
 * Cambridge, Earth (Sol System): Home to Harvard University, and home to Kimberly Ivy Blackburn. (non-playable)
 * NGC 2359: Emission nebula, the reconnaissance target of the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth under deep reconnaissance campaign Operation: PURPLE WILLOW, fifteen thousand-light years from Earth towards the edge of the galaxy, the Cygnus Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. The UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth and Madeline Son went missing-in-action (MIA) during deep reconnaissance of NGC 2359 in 2590, and two years of intensive UNSC Navy search and rescue (SAR) operations have failed to find any of the UNSC personnel. (non-playable)

Roleplay Characters
Please post characters here :) We encourage users to make characters that are Rangers, NAVSPECWAR, FORCE RECON, SPARTAN, or Myrmidon forces. We are, however, highly interested in extremely unique characters, either in the military or in civilian life. For the beginning of BVA, the plotline will center on Task Force 51 on Midgard. Afterwards, the RP will take a sharp change for the worse (if all goes as planned =P), and conventional UNSC forces, such as naval and infantry forces, will be extensively featured in a very freeform roleplay. =]

Sgt.johnson's characters

 * Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel White (Rangers) - Secondary support operative for the Cambridge Rangers, he joined the UNSC Army Ranger Corps after requesting an MOS change, and is now the commander of 38/6 Ranger Battalion, leading from the front.
 * SPARTAN-002 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51) - A SPARTAN-II of class II.
 * SPARTAN-019 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51)
 * SPARTAN-130 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51)
 * Kyle Davidson (President of HRV Armament Company) - A member of a Colonial Militia on an Outer Ring world, he quickly became intrigued into the design of weapons, and after getting a doctorate in Engineering, he joined the HRV Armament Company. After rising through the ranks of the Research and Development section, he became the CEO of HRV.
 * Sergei Mikoyan (NAVSPECWARSIX) - The only male survivor of the raid on Beryl, Sergei Mikoyan died some nine years before the present day. While he was in the Navy, he was a Chief Petty Officer (E-7)

RelentlessRecusant's characters

 * SPARTAN-MYR005 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Commander of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN IV Detachment, valedictorian of the Myrmidon graduating company of 2588. Captain of the UNSC Navy (O-6).
 * SPARTAN-MYR064 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Leading Petty Officer of Myrmidon Delta Squadron. Clinical schizophrenic with non-integrative frequent audiovisual hallucinations, presumably because of un-directed in utero Flood teratogenesis that has imparted favorable physical attributions. Currently under high-dosage psycholeptic antipsychotics, antidepressants, and anticonvulsants (mood stabilizers) for treatment of neuropsychological treatments, although physically exceptional and well-qualified in covert and direct warfighting. Chief Petty Officer of the UNSC Navy (E-7).
 * Kawika Son (UNSC Special Operations Command): Commander, Task Force 51 and Commander, Myrmidon Program, strategic commander of Midgard Campaign. Vice Admiral of the UNSC Navy (O-9).

Non-interactable


 * Kimberly Ivy Blackburn (Harvard University, Department of Stem Cell & Regenerative Biology): Helen Hay Whitney Postdoctoral Fellow in the Schore Laboratory, research interests include phenotypic effects of ectopically-expressed Flood-mimicking transcription factors and successive exogenous transdifferentiation / reprogramming processes. Master Chief Petty Officer (Ret.) of the UNSC Navy (E-9).
 * Madeline Son (UNSC Naval Special Warfare Group Six): Partial mission history of NGC 2359 deep reconnaissance (DR) campaign of Operation: PURPLE WILLOW in 2590, including the personnel of the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth and various operators of NAVSPECWAR Six. Lieutenant, Jr. Grade of the UNSC Navy (O-2).

ODST Joshie's Chatacters:

 * Joshua Stevenson (8th Irish Ranger Regiment / Task Force 51) Juliet Company's CO, been with the Regiment for 6 Years.
 * SPARTAN-G024 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) Team Wolf's leader and one of the Few remaining S-IIIs from that Team, he is a cold calculated Killer.
 * SPARTAN-G094 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) One of the Last S-IIIs from Team Wolf, is a wizard when it comes to Demolitions.
 * SPARTAN-G173 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) The last alive member from Team Wolf barring the other two, is the Teams second sniper after Andrew died.

Delta Team Curt's characters

 * Colonel Curtis Freeman - UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance. A veteran special forces operator, Freeman has become a seasonded officer within FORCE RECON.
 * Corporal Cosette Freeman - UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance. Daughter of Curtis Freeman and Lilya Moskvina. She has undergoje NAVSPECWAR training and currently serves within FORCE RECON for counterterroism operations on Midgar.
 * Admiral Alexander Bodet - UNSC Chechnya. Aging Admiral of the Human-Covenant War, his ship was found five years ago with 27 crew members in cryostasis after having been lost in late 2551 on the edge of UNSC space. In the changing face of war, he struggles to fit into the modern navy and has to live with the fact he has outlived everyone he has ever known.
 * Tara Delano - Davenport Electronics Director of Internal Computer Infrastructure. A former special forces operator of the UNSC, Delano settled down following her retirement and used her skills in computer technologies to secure a job working with Jennings & Rall as a computer technician for internal computer systems, eventually rising to lead the entire department.
 * Calvin Marks - Ravenwood Solutions Contractor. Former Ranger, Marks joined Ravenwood three years ago to support his family on Atlas, during several contracts he has gone above and beyond to safeguard his fellow contractors and make sure the job is done safely.
 * James Carter - Jennings & Rall Director of Shipping and Logistics (J&R Administrative Division). Director of Logistics for J&R, Carter has always been keen when it came to organization, his gift has landed him in a spot running the entire section of J&R in cuarge of supplying the companies vast number of locations.

Actene's Characters
* See Halo: Beckon Forth Sunrise, a short story written by RelentlessRecusant and approved by Actene, that provides a partial introduction for Actene's charas into BVA :)
 * SPARTAN-G294 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Simon-G294 gained infamy as the only SPARTAN to ever betray the UNSC when he deserted the military and murdered a superior officer as a result of the New Africa Incident. After over two decades of being harbored in cryosleep by the Sanghelli, he and fellow SPARTAN Cassandra were awakened and recruited to train the Myrmidons. While mostly inferior when it comes to combat, Simon has proved time and time again that he has an unmatched knack for survival and self-preservation and is not above running from a fight when the odds do not favor him.
 * SPARTAN-G006 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Critically wounded during the New Africa Incident, Cassandra-G006 was rescued from certain euthanasia by her rogue comrade Simon and became his reluctant companion as he fled the UNSC. After their stint in cryostasis the pair were recruited to help train the Myrmidons. Like Simon, her combat skills are poor for a SPARTAN but she makes up for this deficiency through her skills as a medic.
 * Agent 2994 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): A member of ONI's High Priority Assassination Program, the man known by his designation of "2994" grew tired of life in the military and retired to become a civilian engineer. He was drawn back into military life and recruited to train the Myrmidons and has since accepted the name of Apollo to replace his forgotten original.
 * Artemis 2995 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): The HPA's top agent, Agent 2995 rechristened herself Artemis after her true name was forgotten during the HPA's brutal indoctrination process. In this time of prosperity, she was repurposed to train the Myrmidons and was responsible for the recruitment of fellow agent 2994.
 * SPARTAN-MYR094: One of the only Myrmidons to bond with Instructor Simon-G294 during training, Redmond-MYR094's admiration of his unorthodox instructor soon turned to a form of hero-worship. He shares many of Simon's traits, including his preference for tactics that favor self-preservation, and acts as something of an adjutant to Simon in the field. The two of them often operate as a two man squad and prefer to keep their distance from other teams. He is very loyal to Simon and follows him everywhere, regardless of whether Simon wants him to or not.

ShockTrooper's Characters

 * Daniel Jackson: UNSC Marine of the UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance, UNSC Marine Special Forces Detachment. Jackson holds the rank of Sergeant. Daniel Jackson fought in the Human-Covenant War, Battle of Peleliu II, and conducted Top-Secret Military Operations. Jackson lost his Family in the Human-Covenant War and has developed Cold and Sociopathic Personality. Jackson is well-known for executing Wounded and Unarmed Rebels and Remnant Soldiers.

117649 Annihilative Repentance's Characters

 * Caleb Tyler: A hardened member of the UNSC Army Ranger Corps, Caleb Tyler has seen his share of bloodshed throughout his Special Operations career. And despite his innate pacifism, his patriotism has gotten the better of his judgement; him and his fireteam are willing to shoot and kill anything they are told to, if it is for the good of the UNSC.

FightWithHonor's Characters

 * Lee F. Winslow:Although paralyzed by an injury suffered in a Warthog crash, Lee has followed in the foosteps of uncle Shelby F. Winslow by working as a planner, analyst and strategist for UNSCSOCOM, outlining objectives and missions for UNSCSOCOM. Lee's disability prevents him from operating in the field, and as a civilian working in SOCOM headquarters he will make an admirable balance to the high-ranking officers he works alongside, and the elite special operators he controls in the field.


 * Marvin Ackerby:A member of the UNSC Special Operations Aviation Unit (UNSCSPOAU), Ackerby is a Chief Warrant Officer, responsible for piloting the air and spacecraft UNSC special operators rely upon so heavily for stealthy and safe combat insertion.


 * Santiago Nordmann:Descendant of American missionaries to Ecuador and Cofan natives, Nordmann was raised in the jungle, and applies the survival skills he learned as a child to good use on the battlefield with the elite operators of NAVSPECWAR 6.


 * Daniel Nikos:Of Greek ancestry, Nikos is a Navy Corpsman and a member of the UNSC Marine Orbital Incursion Group. Although new to combat, Nikos' ODST training has prepared him for even the most hazardous situations. His resourcefulness and fighting spirit are worthy of his Greek Resistance ancestors, as much as the humanity he exhibits as a combat medic.


 * Kevin Red Songbird:Proudly of Native American lineage, Kevin's individualism is put to good use by UNSC Forward Airborne Reconnaissance, where his quick mind and hunter's instincts prove vital on a slew of desolate worlds.


 * Niel Van Warden:Member of the Rangers, Van Warden is an innovative tactician, dreaming up a slew of marginally insane tactics and bombarding his superiors with them. Although many regard him as overeager, his quick mind will prove even more valuable than his courage.

Subtank's Character

 * Sarah Rose: Freshly out of bootcamp, Alex is a UNSC Medic deployed with the UNSC Rangers. A Greenhorn, she has yet seen a single blood stain and wished she never have to deal with one. Her first field experience would change her life, military-wise.

Jawsredfield's Character

 * Jon Harper: During his middle time years working for ONI, Jon was part of NAVSPECWAR Six and was part of Task Force Blue.

H3's Characers

 * Myrmidon-012 (Myrmidon): SPARTAN-MYR012 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51)
 * Myrmidon-036 (Myrmidon): SPARTAN-MYR036 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51)



Interested Participants
Sign below :) Feel free to speak to me about this and find out details before you think it through. Everyone is allowed to join :)


 * 1) RelentlessRecusant
 * 2) Sgt.johnson
 * 3) Actene
 * 4) FightWithHonor
 * 5) ODST Joshie
 * 6) Kebath 'Holoree
 * 7) SPARTAN-118
 * 8) H3
 * 9) Jawsredfield
 * 10) ONI recon 111
 * 11) Subtank/Ascension
 * 12) ShockTrooper
 * 13) 117649 Annihilative Repentance

Acknowledgments
RelentlessRecusant gratefully acknowledges the assistance of Lieutenant D.W. of the Singapore Army, Singapore Armed Forces, for assistance with the military aspects of Beyond Veil's Azure, and acknowledges various members of Harvard Stem Cell Institute, UMDNJ-RWJ University Hospital, and UMDNJ-RWJ Medical School for mentorship and ethical and technical thoughts regarding the augmentation protocols for Kimberly Ivy Blackburn and the Myrmidons.

PREFACE
BEYOND VEIL'S AZURE is a story of the end.

How humanity, which has stood for two hundred thousand years, falls.

For darkness is patient.

She waits in the twilight black, in the black expanse through which the stars wheel. She is even-tempered, she is calm.

Darkness is generous, it is never angered. Darkness always protects, always trusts, always hopes.

She is always there. Submissive, tolerant, always waiting. She bides our time.

There is a shadow beyond the darkness. A fundamental darkness so profound that it is formless, it is primordial. It has been here since the beginning, and it will be here for the end.

This is the twilight of mankind. It starts now.

PART ONE: Midgard
MIDGARD: Toward Argent Storm  Beyond Veil's Azure, above all, is a story of humanity. Of who we are, a species of which heroes are few, a species of which courage is fleeting and difficult to find. It details our ignorance, our corruption, our willing ignorance; everything that makes us human.

The ideal textbook trap has several necessary components. It requires some careful planning, some forethought. Let us peruse it in detail.

It first requires someone to trap, some dangerous entity that the architect of the trap would prefer to die. An ideal example of a quarry would be the UNSC special forces, the best that mankind can offer, her most steadfast fighters, the defender of humanity's pale, dying flame. It would be highly preferable if they did not exist anymore, for obvious strategic reasons.

Secondly, there must be some physical place to stage said trap. This bait must have several attractive characteristics to make it useful. It must be some remote, barren wasteland on mankind's rim, some arid flat of minimal significance, sufficiently removed that its abject destruction and utter sterilization will mean little.

Thirdly, there must be some appetizing bait that will be sure to entice said quarry. An optimal example is an Outer Rim world where over the past four years, mysterious rebel and terrorist activity has almost dropped from sky for no reason, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of civilians for no reason. Such wanton violence is always sure to attract humanity's valorous defenders, drawing them in with the utter, sure certainty of a hapless male seduced by a lusty female. It is indeed such mindless, moronic attractions that are exemplary of humanity's idiocy.

And lastly, with obvious intention, there must be some process to completely cauterize said trap and to extinguish said quarry of interest. We'll leave that until later, but be confident that with the exceeding amount of intensive intellect, thoughtful art, and dedication necessary to engineer the trap known as Midgard, that a sufficient process exists to ensure the exhaustive, consummate, and complete destruction of Midgard and all her inhabitants.

This trap was the first of three sequential strategic tactics employed in the campaign.

Introduction
DAWN BREAKS ON MIDGARD. Her luminous steeds race across the inflamed skies, break the vice grip of the night, wrest her subjects free. Helios's chariot rises, beckons forth the dawn, the rise of day. With every steadfast step, the swollen bloodshot orb of the sun swells in the skies, repealing the gloom with every argent ray.

A new day begins.

Alpha Draconis's climbing rays arouse an aging admiral from restless midnight slumber, each scintillation of starlight recalling a bloody litany of thousands of names; nevermore, nevermore.

On Earth, a young woman awakes beside her husband, chest heaving, hair astray, eyes opaque from the fear of the dark; for the midday is no comfort. She is always there, always whispering. The day is the darkest night, the sun a lie.

With day's break, a mother remembers a daughter she never knew, lost tens of thousands of light-years erstwhile in the galaxy's myriad stars.

Toward a yonder star, a UNSC frigate alights from Slipspace, kneads past the convolutions of complex space-time, penetrates the fabric of reality and time to come again to the familiar three-dimensional confines of our world.

Beyond the veil's azure, ragnarok ascends, draws together his warriors as if the sand upon the shore.

And with the rising of the star, humanity awakes. We remember our fellowships, our sons and daughters, our brothers and sisters.

For if today is the day we die, we die together.

In our darkest hour, remember courage.

Remember our comrades, remember our friends.

If we fall, we fall together.

For long ago, we drew a line in the sand. This is where we stand. For if humanity falls, we will fall together.

WE FLY TOWARD ARGENT STORM.

01
UNSC ''BEYOND VEIL'S AZURE SLIPSPACE EN ROUTE TO HENIZE 3-1357 18,000 LIGHT-YEARS FROM EARTH

THE MAGIC KEY TURNS. Four thousand tons of shaped titanium and noxious hydrazine shudder with extradimensional vigor, abruptly vanish from the ethereal realm of Slipspace to the mathematically-defined existence we know as reality. The metallic bulk of the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure blots the light of a dozen stars as it emerges from Slipspace, and with its steady intent, its canted prow is the arrowhead aimed towards war.

The Beyond Veil's Azure is enshrouded with light, for a Slipspace transition towards the Henize 3-1357 Nebula is eighteen thousand light-years towards the Galactic Core, away from Earth and towards Sagittarius A. The frigate has left the familiar contours of home, of Earth towards an unfamiliar shore because of a UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence initiative known as Operation: PURPLE WILLOW. For forty years ago, after the closure of the Human-Covenant War, humanity found another relic left behind by the cryptic Forerunners; we found another stepping stone in the stars. We have not forgotten the Halos, the Ark, nor the Memory. We have forgotten none of them.

Human greed is infinite; it is a dimensionless expanse. We remember only the riches, the glory, the royale. We do not remember the blood of trillions shed when the Covenant thought they had found a Forerunner artifact on Harvest. We do not remember how ten thousand perished when we stumbled upon Alpha Halo, how billions vaporized when the Covenant brought war to Earth's sky.

Most of all, we do not remember what will happen if War happens again.

We forget Harvest. We forget Sigma Octanus. We forget Halo. We forget Earth.

We don't remember. We are lost in the rapture of blind ignorance. We love darkness; it our shield, our convenient excuse to forget.

We forget what will happen if plasma will rain from the skies of Earth. We forget what will happen when the rainclouds burst over New York and Covenant commandos rain. We forget what will happen when Covenant soldiers find a human nursery.

We forget all of these things.

It's ironic. It's an epitome to our stupidity, our epitaph.

And still we are searching for more.

For more Forerunner artifacts. For more relics. We are led by blind ambition.

Aboard the Beyond Veil's Azure ' s bridge, Captain Melton calls forth his communications officer.

"Signal FLEETCOM Sydney, secure. We're on station. It's begun."

TASK FORCE 51, FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM

DAWN RACES ACROSS THE SKIES, AND WE ARISE.

As the gloom retracts from the sky, giving the starlight its purchase, already, a tight knot of UNSC special forces personnel gather in Hotel California's Decision Support Center (DSC). For with the dawn comes bloodshed.

The skies are swollen with crimson.

* *  *

TASK FORCE 51, UNSC SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND EXTENDED DEPLOYMENT: DAY 1112 (UNSC RESYNCHRONIZED MILITARY CALENDAR) MIDGARD CAMPAIGN (counter-insurg / counter-prolif / civ-mil support)

1. MISSION #: 3-981 (Operation: ALBANY COBRA) 17 MAR 2954

2. SUPPORTED UNIT: TF51 / SABRE SQUADRON

3. SUPPORTING UNIT: TF51 / SOA

4. TIME REQUIRED: 1hr30min (pre-mission), 0hr45min (insertion), 0hr10min max. (dir. action), 0hr40min (extraction)

5. MISSION (AND CONCEPT SKETCH): AIR ASSAULT (dir. action / counter-insurg)

6. #/TYPE OF AIRCRAFT: SOA ASSETS TO BE CONFIRMED IN BRIEFING

7. H-HOUR: 0730 HR ZULU

8. PICK-UP TIME WITH REHEARSAL TIME BUILT IN: 0hr5min

9. PZ LOCATION (AND SKETCH): RALLY DELTA

10. PZ FREQUENCY


 * A. UNIT TF51 / SOA (UNIT TO BE CONFIRMED)


 * B. AIRCRAFT TF51 / SOA (ASSETS TO BE CONFIRMED)

11. PZ CALL SIGN


 * A. UNIT TF51 / SOA (UNIT TO BE CONFIRMED)


 * B. AIRCRAFT TF51 / SOA (ASSETS TO BE CONFIRMED)

12. PZ MARKING (DAY/NIGHT): 193-175 x 895-003 (hex. dec. 6x6)

13. LANDING HEADING: 037 DEG

14. LANDING FORMATION: ONE-FORWARD (AS PER ORDER OF ASSAULT, SEE ATTACHMENTS)

15. DOOR ENTRY: TO BE CONFIRMED

16. NUMBER OF TROOPS: TO BE CONFIRMED

17. NUMBER/TYPE CARGO LOADS: TO BE CONFIRMED

18. TAKE-OFF DIRECTION: 190 DEG

19. TAKE-OFF FORMATION: TWO-FORWARD

20. FALSE LZ GRID: NO

21. ROUTE: TO BE CONFIRMED

22. TIME OF FLIGHT: 0730 ZULU - 0815 ZULU

23. LZ GRID (ALT IF REQUIRED): 193-178 x 895-001

24. LZ SKETCHES: SEE ATTACHED

25. LZ MARKING (DAY/NIGHT)/LZ FREQ and Call Sign : 1-4 SIDEWINDER

26. ATTACK AVN CONCEPT: NO (UNARMED RECCE ATTACHED)

27. LZ PREP FIRES: NO

28. LANDING HEADING: COME TO 040 DEG

29. LANDING FORMATION: THREE-BROAD

30. WEAPONS STATUS: FIRE ORDER VERMILLION (auth., VADM K.S.)

31. DOOR EXIT: TO BE CONFIRMED

32. TAKE-OFF DIRECTION

33. NUMBER OF TURNS REQUIRED: ONE

34. ABORT CRITERIA: ONI SITUATIONAL AUTHORITY or CCP SPECFOR REQ.

35. WEATHER CALL: FLEET INTEL CONFIRM

36. BUMP PLAN: SEE ATTACHED

37. ABN FREQ: A1-A5

38. CAN/CMD FREQs: C2, G1-G5 (SABRE) Air Mission Commander’s Initials ____G.R., UNSC NAVINTEL____ ; Task Force Commander Initials____K.S., UNSC NAVY____

* *  *

TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", DECISION SUPPORT CENTER (DCS) MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0513 HOURS ZULU

And as a synchronous union, they looked up.

At the dais, smartly clad in the dress blacks of the Office was Commodore Rowntree, the overhead halogen illumination eerily playing off of her lustrous raven frame of hair.

"We will prosecute ALBANY COBRA at 0730 hours. Expecting clear meteorological conditions, the assault force will insert at 0815 hours at the LZ, which will be reconnoitered and secured by 1-4 Sidewinder. With dedicated decision support from airborne ONI aviation assets, we will confirm mission execution and will stage on-site post-mission assessment, with assault infantry extraction at the HZ designated as Rally Delta."

"The target is a small unarmed insurgent convoy; detailed human intelligence provided from the Office within the insurgent command structure suggests that this convoy will be containing an anonymous high-ranking paramilitary officer coordinating the insurgent assaults. Long-lens photographs are appended within your briefing folders for your examination. The success of this operation is contingent on our prosecution of this singular individual; survival of all accessory forces is a secondary objective at best. Weapons authorization is as per Fire Order Vermillion; we shoot to kill, with shooters guided by on-site intelligence from 1-4 Sidewinder. We will take questions now."

' * Editor's Note: So welcome to Beyond Veil's Azure''! :) I apologize in advance for this unnecessarily complicated "mission" as the preface to our roleplay; this is a straightforward operation so that everyone can introduce their own characters, introduce any unique sub-plots, and get to know each other. After this, we will begin the primary plotline. Please message me with any questions or write on the RP talk page. Again, I apologize for this unnecessarily complicated operation - it was fairly poorly written, but if there are any questions about the intent, again, write on the talk page or ask me :) Feel free to begin the roleplay! Introduce your characters, feel free to ask mission questions (I will write back under Rowntree as fast as I can) and for your characters to mingle and to socialize!! (RR)'''

02
Jamal awoke from his slumber, blinking his eyes rapidly at the bright, intense sunlight that shone through the small window. After rubbing his eyes, he swung his large, powerful legs over the side of the cot, stood up, and walked towards the showers. He stepped in, allowing the cold water to wash over his body, finally awakening from a night mare - the rememberance of HOT GATES, an operation that had happened more than four decades ago - and stepped out, and put on a civilian suit. Wihle walking down the long hallways of the barracks building, he bumped into one of the Myrmidons, those genetically altered and artificially produced "super soldiers", who abruptly turned around and grabbed his arm.

"Hey, you think you can take me on?"

Jamal chuckled, and started to walk on, until the Myrmidon placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I said, do you think you can take me on?"

Jamal waited, then grabbed the Myrmidon's hand, twisted it, snaped a few knuckles, swept his leg underneath the boy, knocking him off balance, then planted his large foot into the boy's neck.

"Hmf... you guys are supposed to replace us? You guys couldn't replace a Marine."

Jamal turned around and continued to walk outdoors, where he met the other two members of his team.

Instead of being in direct combat with the enemy, his team was repurposed to act as Human Intelligence collectors, conducting surviellance and reconnaissance, as well as capturing information. Instead of acting like they used to, as the elite super soldiers of the UNSC, they were instead downgraded to act as ONI spies.

The trio, now reunited, mounted into a civilian warthog and proceeded into the capital city, where, after parking, proceeded to the area around the target building, taking pictures and relaying them back to command.-- Sgt. johnson  16:52, 10 January 2009 (UTC)

03
The last time he'd done a mission like this things had been different.

He'd set a bunch of explosives at various locations and then detonated them when the target convoy reached just the right spot. He'd gone in then, weaved through the smoke and around dazed and confused soldiers to where the target lay beside his Warthog with half his arm blown away and a piece of shrapnel in his gut. The man had seen him and expressed admiration as to how he'd pulled the whole thing off. And then SPARTAN-G294 had drawn his sidearm and blown a superior officer's brains out.

It had been the point at which he'd stopped being just a confused kid to ONI and become the only SPARTAN to ever, ever betray the UNSC, an instant promotion to Public Enemy Number 1. It was the point at which his friends had started trying to kill him and the point at which his life had unclogged itself and gone all the way down the tubes.

Simon stared hard at the gear arranged before him in a neat and ordered pile. Killing Captain Lierne had perhaps been one of the stupidest and most deluded decisions he'd ever made. He'd read too many books during training and had thought that life was supposed to be like one of them: Lierne had headed the unit charged with making sure that no civilian ever got word of the SPARTAN-III program, which meant that he must have been an evil and twisted monster, right? Which meant that he, Simon, was supposed to go in and get some revenge before riding off into the sunset, right?

When did I become such an idiot? he thought to himself. ''Did I really think that I could bring down one of the most powerful military organizations in the galaxy? Me, the hopeless loser who was only good at running away?''

And because of his lunacy he'd nearly been killed by one of the only friends he'd ever had, spent over twenty years in a cryosleep maintained by a species that had proceeded to cast him aside before running to tell the UNSC where he was, and was now working for a government that he'd hated for half his life. He still hated it, but the hatred was buried within him now, no longer part of what kept him alive.

''Why didn't Diana stop me? She didn't have a reason to go after revenge, and it was her life I was throwing on the line just as much as my own. She's an AI for God's sake, aren't they supposed to be logical?''

Another consequence of his idiocy: an AI that had been implanted in his head by a bunch of wackjob scientists was now beyond his reach. The modified armor that had allowed her to speak to him and to interface with technology that he touched was gone. And the worst part of it all was that she was still in there. He could feel her during quiet moments, frustrated and afraid. And there was nothing he could do to help her.

I'' shouldn't be here. I don't want to be here. I never wanted to be here.''

But Cassandra had. The meek and timid girl from a destroyed team had grown a spine right at the time it could hurt him most. She'd accepted the admiral's offer and gone with him, and Simon had had no choice. Without her he'd be nothing, just a broken teenager with no one but an AI he couldn't even talk to anymore. And when she'd applied for a combat role in Task Force 51, he'd done so as well. She was all he had. Well, there was always Redmond.

That weirdo Myrmidon would be waiting for him to get dressed so that he could fall in behind him and worship the ground he walked on. With a huff of annoyance, Simon began to slip into his gear.

The only way for him to stay sane was to keep busy and keep his mind off how much he hated his life.

04
'''TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0400 HOURS '''

"Here we go again" said Daniel Jackson. Daniel Jackson, UNSC Marine of the UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance (UNSC Marine Special Forces Detachment), was in the Barracks of FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", UNSC Military Base on Migard, UNSC Colony. Jackson was the first one to wake up before his Marines did. Jackson, who lost his family in the Great War and well-known for his Executions of Wounded and Unarmed Rebels on Peleliu II, went outside for little while. Jackson wandered the Base and returned to the Barracks. Upon arrival, Jackson saw Kurt Dawson, Daniel's closet friend, already awake and grabbing his Gear. "Hey Daniel, what were you doing?" said Dawson. "Oh, you know, watching the view" replied Jackson. "Hmph...wuss" teased Dawson. "Hey, we've been assigned on Recon Mission, are the others awake?" asked Jackson. "Nope" replied Dawson. Jackson burst into the room and yelled, "Up and adam, maggots, we've got an assignment" yelled Jackson to the Marines. Daniel Jackson and his Squad of UNSC Marines geared up and headed straight for the Motorpool for thier Reconnaissance Mission.

ShockTrooper

05
'''TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", DECISION SUPPORT CENTER (DCS) MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0513 HOURS ZULU '''

The officer looked over the information provided in the folder he had been given upon entering the room. It seemed straight forward, too straight forward for the elite special operational forces that made up the military might in this area, just a little too simple for the things that had been occurring on this god forsaken planet. However, it wasn’t his job to think though the reasoning of a mission he and his unit were given, only to execute the orders to the best of his ability, and get his soldiers in and out of harms way alive.

The terrain looked fairly normal, what they were accustomed too; the first thing that caught his eye was a position above the area of operations approximately two klicks away that could easily be taken advantage of by a skilled marksman. Instantly 1st Squad came to his thoughts, Private First Class Alex Walters, a skilled sniper was equipped with M55A2 Sniper Rifle System that could easily cover the range accurately enough to provide sniper support and real time information regarding the convoy’s movement.

“Commodore Rowntree, there is an elevated position two kilometers north northwest of the area our forces are operating in, Force Recon has a marksman that could provide line of sight sniper support for ground forces in the area, request to deploy PFC Walters to the position and include sierra combat team for Operation: ALBANY COBRA.” he spoke up, hoping it would be granted.

'''BATTLEGROUP CHECHNYA HIGH ORBIT MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0513 HOURS ZULU '''

The bridge of the UNSC Chechnya was quiet as it had been since its first trial four years ago. The Navy of today did not have any need for the massive cruiser that they ordered and had constructed; only serving as a deterrent for would be anti-UN forces. At the moment the Chechnya sat idle in the orbit of Midgard, its sophisticated scanning systems analyzing the traffic around the colony.

“MV Arcturus shows 13.2% probability of weapons aboard, displaying scan results on two.” announced the computers AI, the layout of the ship and known cargo appearing instantly on one of the many displays.

This operation was killing Bodet on the inside, the absolute boredom and strict orders not to engage without explicitly being told by planetary command were the opposite of what he had grown to know. Although his first instinct was to send one of the battlegroup’s frigates at the vessel and apprehend its contents was highly unorthodox in the Navy he now served with. For five years he lived in this hell, the boredom, the change slowly eating away at him as everything he ever knew collapsed around him.

No one even remembered the war he had fought so hard to win, his efforts and actions that had been in the interests of Earth all those years ago now considered unorthodox and unneeded in the present day operations he was apart of. The days of naval skirmishes with hostile forces a distant memory in the minds of the sailors that now served with the United Nations Space Command Defense Force.

“Sir, request permission to engage?” queried Alena.

Bodet looked over what the cargo was supposed to be carrying, and what the multimillion credit systems now suspected it of having. A number of things could show up as a possible weapon, anything that contained the alloys used when forging the body of a rifle, the chemical cocktails used when creating explosives, or the mix of propellants used in ammunition.

“Send it through the channels as Priority Delta, hopefully we get the green light from command” the admiral ordered.

Delta

06
Joshua growled as a Myrodomin walked past.

"God, I hate these 'Replacements'" Joshua said to Amy

"Yeah, pretty decent though, better than you." She smiled at him

"Very funny Hun, anyway I hear they found Simon and Cassandra, I personally would've shot them twice in the head,"

"Not nice, but I guess your right" Amy said They deserve a second chance She thought.

Joshua and Amy walked to the firing Range and had a contest to see who would win, Joshua picked up his Customized BR55, which had a flash-hider and increased range Scope. He switched to single shot and fired hitting the centre of the target, Amy followed suit but missed the centre.

"Haha, 10 bucks please sweetcheaks," Josh smirked

"Here you go,now dont spend it all on meth," Amy laughed

"Try not to,"

"Anyway, you wanna go out for a bit? I mean seeing as we have some leave?" Amy said blushing obviously embarresed

"Sure," Josh said and put his arm around Amy as they left.

07

 * TASK FORCE 51
 * FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", Task Force Provisional Command Center
 * MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM
 * 0514 HOURS ZULU

The gentle blue glow of the computer monitors filtered into the room, receiving and displaying hundreds of myraid mission and operator status signals from across the station. For now the room was still, the only sounds the gentle murmur of conferring officers and tapping of keys on the datatables of the command desks.

Savoring the tranquility of the moment, Lee Winslow placed his long fingers upon his desk and pushed, feeling the gentle rumble in his back as his chair's wheels gently rolled across the the polished metal floor.

The screen at his lower left gently flickered, blackened, and re-lit once more. Witnessing the malfunction, Winslow made a mental note to have maintenance take a look at it.

Any person unfamiliar to UNSCSOCOM who saw Lee in his present state would have his most fundamental assumptions about this august command shaken to the core, for although overeager holomakers had glorified every UNSCSOCOM base as a land of constant action, with operatives constantly being dispatched to save the day in the far-off reaches of Human space, phones ringing off the hook,where life-or-death decisions a mere routine, however the reality was very different. Even with the recent spike in terrorist activity, much of UNSCSOCOM was enjoying piece and quiet, letting the Sector Commands worry about the few minor insurrections and rebellions in their regions.

And Lee couldn't have done much if he had wanted to. The planning and intel processing team Lee headed at UNSCSOCOM was still waiting for ONI to file their report on the latest Midgard activity, a process which Lee knew would take some time, if he correctly estimated the somewhat toothless peacetime ONI he frequently encountered.

Contemplating the moment, Lee idly patted his atrophied leg, its muscles and bone withered from the years of disuse paralysis had brought upon his once youthful frame, a youth full of action and the Corps. But for now, Lee had the quiet he had become so accustomed to enjoy. In many ways he was glad he was a civilian. Promotions were slow in the lethargic skeleton the UNSC now called a "defence force," and capable civilians were often paid better, promoted faster, and given more choice in their assignments. But they paid the price of being derogatorily labeled "civvies," a label even Lee's service as a Marine could not evaporate. Still the choice had not been his to make, that Warthog crash had chosen it for him. There was no room in the Corps for a paralytic, and so it had been off to SOCOM as an adviser for Lee.

But Lee's musings were cut short by the crackle from his desk's phone, and the stream of codes which flooded his computer screens.

"Winslow, FLEETCOM. TF 51 is a go."

FightWithHonor

08
FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", DECISION SUPPORT CENTER (DCS)

Jon Harper felt something as he waited for confirmation about Operation: ALBANY COBRA. He knew he was needed for this, being signed to TF 51, and as he clicked mindless through messages, he saw the message he needed to see. TF 51 was going, and he needed to be ready. Walking over to the door, he slid it open and walked out. He needed to find the amoury, and quickly. He always felt the urge to clean a weapon, and he bumped into a couple walking past him, and he kept a calm face through it. Jon brushed his hair to the side a bit when he made it to the amoury. The morning would come soon, and he was needed to be ready by 0730 hours. He walked over to a Shotgun, and started to take the barrel apart when he felt something... Someone was watching, but as he looked up, he saw nothing. He was getting worked up over nothing, but he decided to leave and head over to be briefed.

Jawsredfield

09
TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0513 HOURS ZULU

Caleb's helmet resounded with a satisfying clang as he tapped it with his magazine, sliding it into his SRS99C-S2 AM Sniper Rifle with the care that a mother would give her child. He slid the Rifle onto his back, placed his M6 sidearm into his holster, and slid his combat knife firmly into its boot-mounted sheath, before the Sergeant yelled to "hurry the fuck up," to which he happily obliged. His squad moved up to the olive-drab Transport Warthogs waiting, and Caleb moved himself into one of the back seats.

"So, what's up?" his squadmate asked as the Sergeant started up the 'hog,

"What do you think? Damn innies are creeping all around the damn place; our job's just to get rid of 'em." one of the others responded,

The Warthogs sped onto the highway from Hotel California, and one of his squadmates passed around a few beers;

"Cheers to a damn easy job"

10
As the Reconnaissance Patrol continued, Daniel Jackson and his UNSC Marines, from FORCE RECON, traveled on the 2 Warthogs throughout the Patrol. "If I wasn't in this shit hole, I would be at Strip Club" said an Anoymunous Marine that was driving the lead Warthog. "Stow it Marine" replied Jackson, who was manning the Machine Gun Turret on the Warthog. As the Patrol progressed, Jackson thought to himself, "What the hell am I doing Here?". "I should be dead along time ago" thought Jackson. Jackson, who seemed to have become more suicidal each day, had these constant thoughts of ending his life. However, something was driving him to move along and he wasn't sure what it was. After the Patrol, Jackson returned to the Barracks and slept with those thoughts still in his head.

ShockTrooper

11
TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA", OFFICE OF THE COMMANDER, JOINT TASK FORCE (OFFCMDRJTF) MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0515 HOURS ZULU

WHAT THE ADMIRAL SAW was not a realm of light and color, of scent and sound. No, his eyes saw beyond; he heard a bloody litany of thousands of names that would surface nevermore; he saw resolve, smelled their sacrifice, touched their death. Ten thousand names.

At what time he had been submerged in this ethereal realm, he could not ascertain; this hellish meld of the horrid fabric of reality, juxtaposed with these phantasmal names. The day was night; the days were eternally dark, unlit. He was not living on Midgard. He was in heaven now too, already dead, watching those ten thousand names, watching the billions to join...

He was more dead than alive, merely a corporeal complex of flesh and marrow and blood that had no purpose, no reason for existence. He lived simply for the sake of living, nothing more. He was already dead. He knew that with a certainty.

When the TF51 officers came to consult him, it was almost practiced. An academic reflex. There was no soul, no conviction in his words. His actions now merely extended to approving operations, checking off the box that would kill a thousand people. But even in this depraved state on the edge of the world, Admiral Kawika Son of the UNSC Special Operations Command was an accurate simulacrum of a flag officer, and even a living corpse, his "reflexive" intellect and decision were more acute than all of his colleagues - he and Task Force 51 were still the best.

There was a polite rap on the door, and the admiral shuffled away his papers - ONI's classified weekly strategic briefings, for private distribution - and instead replaced them with something more appropriate; in this case, the UNSCSOCOM field manual for cold operations, which he had in fact authored. So when Lieutenant Colonel Mariko, his J3, entered the office of UNSCCMDRJTF, he was lightly perusing the laborious document, the ambrosia morning light reflecting an eerie off-color tangerine in the admiral's patrician glasses.

As scripted, the admiral looked up, and his corpsified mouth uttered pre-programmed words, lying that he was still alive, still breathing.

"Good morning, Colonel."

Mariko, an operations staff officer attached to the Marine Corps and UNSCSOCOM, was a former FORCE RECON operator — the man was methodical, careful, quick to recall critical information, swift to parse lengthy ONI briefings. He was highly competent, the razor-sharp and efficient human machine that was the stereotype for fast promotion in UNSCSOCOM's ranks; a ranking system that encouraged exceptional ingenuity and repressed those that didn't meet its caliber. The special forces community was a darwinian one. Mariko was good.

The lieutenant colonel, as expected, had no requirement for necessities. He had a thermal printout in his hand, which he deftly handed to his commander.

"The Navy thinks they got someone in orbit. The Program confirms that it's a possible, but not a probable."

While civilians might find it an oddity that such an urgent request from a Navy commander — a full four-star Admiral, no less — would be relayed to a subordinate officer - a three-star Vice Admiral - they might also find it curious why it was being relayed with such lethargic speed; one would think it would be easier for the comm. tech at Hotel California to tell the Officer of the Day, who would urgently call up the UNSCCMDRJTF on the internal hot seat line for firing authorization. However, things were managed differently in Task Force 51 under Son.

Firstly, in the Outer Rim, no one cared about Bodet. The UNSC special forces community opinion about Bodet was laughable at best (Bodet's face was the target of dart boards in UNSCSOCOM bars). Bodet was a war horse so ancient he was primordial, who strutted around with a ten thousand ton heavy cruiser and expected to catch elite terrorists with a cruiser that couldn't outpace a civilian freighter. The decrepit war horse, who still clung onto idiotic notions such as glorious battles and honorable dashing last charges, couldn't exactly grasp the purpose of TF51 on Midgard, or the UNSC Special Operations Command as a whole.

The UNSC special forces were an elite cadre of warfighters, rigorously selected, brutally indoctrinated, technically peerless, the best fighters of the galaxy. They expanded the range of options available to a theater commander; when wanting to destroy a dam, one could send either a whole Marine regiment with air and artillery support, well over two thousand personnel in Marines and support personnel and a substantial number of casualties battling for the entrenched position - or else one could send an eight-man NAVSPECWAR team that could infiltrate the dam by its river and destroy it without a shot. When assaulting a heavily-fortified enemy city, one could dispatch a whole Army division of ten thousand soldiers, or else you could send in the Rangers at night, destroying critical command centers and communications points and punching weak spots in the defenses, so that when dawn came, you could take the city with a battalion of a thousand soldiers.

UNSCSOCOM operated through economy of force; efficiency, experience, and excellence.

Bodet didn't quite grasp the concepts of efficiency and speed nor did he appreciate the usefulness of precisely-applied force in comparison to bashing everything with a sledgehammer. That was why Vice Admiral Son, an O-9, on Midgard had complete command over Bodet, a full four-star admiral (O-10). That simply attested to UNSCSOCOM's discontent with Bodet, who had been attached to TF51 only because it was the most convenient place for FLEETCOM Sydney to stash the grizzled bachelor without causing politicomilitary debate. Midgard was the trash can and the end of the line for Bodet, but the admiral, in his senile ways, seemed to appreciate that, much to UNSCSOCOM's laughter. Yet despite the jibes against Bodet, although he was grossly impractical, Son respected his experience and veterancy; he was the only surviving admiral from the Human-Covenant War, and if Bodet and the UNSCDF hadn't carried the banner then, the mothers of the current UNSCSOCOM commanders wouldn't have lived to give birth to the current generation of special forces officers.

If Bodet wanted to chase terrorists (on the ground) with a Navy assault force, that was marginally acceptable to Son as long as "The Admiral" didn't interfere with UNSCSOCOM's operations on the surface.

Yet, there was a necessary jibe requisite for the situation to sting Bodet.

Son looked up from the telefax. "Am I reading this right that the computer flagged a threat index of point oh one, the first index over zero for six months, and Bodet wants to engage with his fleet?"

The two UNSCSOCOM officers shared a bitter laugh and a contemptuous smile.

"That's right, Admiral", affirmed Mariko.

Kawika drummed the deeply-veined sequoia table with his fingers.

"Was the 'Admiral' aware of the fact that two NAVSPECWAR troopers in zero-g gear could have investigated this ship instead of a heavy cruiser with frigate wolfpack support?"

"I'm sure the Admiral expects the freighter to boil out with Covenant frigates and that a glorious battle will suddenly take place over Midgard", said the J3 with a smile. "Replete with last stands and gunfire-lit charges."

Son contemptuously tightly shook his head. "Signal the Chechnya that 'Command' authorizes weapons free."

The irony of Son's subordinate rank hung in the air.

With no urgency, the lieutenant colonel thinly smiled. "I'll tell Signals to comm the Admiral when we get around to it."

The Vice Admiral lazily affirmed his approval with a slothful nod.

"And what else is on the board for today, Ops?"

The ex-FORCE RECON officer consulted a sheaf of papers.

"The assault rotation is SABRE today."

"Oh? And who's strike king now, then?"

"Lieutenant Commander SPARTAN-G294", said Mariko, referring to the formal title for the SPARTAN-III Gamma Company trooper that more colloquially wore the epithet of "Simon". Simon amongst the UNSCSOCOM operators of TF51 also held other titles, too. Although many of the elite TF51 troopers had been apprehensive about the joining of the SPARTANs to the task force, and for the first time being outmatched by their colleagues, losing for the first time, they had enjoyed a welcome surprise with SPARTAN-G294, who was surprisingly unadept at the arts of warcraft, even losing to the very Myrmidon students he had trained, and even inferior to some of the better TF51 operators, who weren't even augmented or in the amorphous, force-amplifying SPI battle armor.

Simon's promotion to Lieutenant Commander (O-4) had moreorless been out of courtesy; Son had been highly interested in what Simon and Cassandra would bring to the program. It had been a mixed bag, with all due candor, with the highly eccentric and hermit-like Simon honestly at times going off the deep end and not sticking to the plan, but regardless, it had been an excellent experience for the candidates. Personal resolve and strength was something rarely seen in mankind these days, not to the caliber of Simon — he had been a welcome lesson in integrity, and had also been adamant about clarification on black ops and over the table "white ops"; part of the instructional regime intended to mold the Myrmidons into a "gloves-on", legitimate special forces group.

TF51's intentions on Midgard, Son would admit at times, was not chiaroscuro. He had no complete omniscience over the activity of the Myrmidons, but was certain that Simon and Cassandra's instilled ethical values and legitimate operations would perhaps lead the Myrmidons to a higher road, unlike the former SPARTANs, who had been the pet tools of ONI Section Three, with agents like Jared-091 becoming assassins whose targets included the servicing of civilians and friendly UNSC personnel.

TF51's actions on Midgard were a discussion for another time.

Regardless while Simon's influence on the training had been ambiguous, Son had confirmed his promotion to Lieutenant Commander, UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence. It was fitting that a man that had been so prosecuted would attain a favorable staff officer rank. It was only fitting that after his crucifixion that he finally be relieved of his burdens, although Son would believe it an ironic and cruel twist of fate that Simon would be promoted in the very organization that had tried to kill him on multiple occasions.

"Alright", reciprocated Kawika. "And who's the number two?"

"Master Chief Artemis."

Artemis was a career special warfare operator, and at an exceptionally young age was already physically, mentally, and psychologically peerless. She was good, by all counts.

"What's the name of today's game?"

"ALBANY COBRA", said the J3. "Air assault; discriminative prosecution of HVT."

That was the UNSCSOCOM jargon for assassination. Both Son and Mariko were seasoned enough and jaded not to flinch at the term.

"Alright", said the admiral steadily. "And who called this one? I didn't remember thumbing this through..."

"Rowntree", answered the lieutenant colonel.

If Kawika was more organic than corpse, perhaps he would have still cared. If he was still living. If he was still breathing.

But he was not.

In the yonder recesses of his mind, he nursed the thought that perhaps some of the TF51 operators suspected, or even knew. He would not put it beyond the mental faculties of some of the senior SPARTANs.

It was a necessary arrangement, and he was so beyond the world's rim, so far removed, he simply no longer cared. Didn't have the energy. Didn't have the resolve. No heart, no soul.

"Keep me informed."

RelentlessRecusant

12
Sarah stared at the incoming Pelican landing on the air pad. Their roaring engines instilled fear into her heart. On top of that, she felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Stomach-ache? She had her lunch at the cafeteria, right after chatting with her companions. They were, of course, ship officers and technicians, never have to face the real battlefield.

It was all about the enrolment process. If you're an exceptional mathematician and capable of managing a transceiver pod, you're qualified to become a ship officer. If you're capable of fixing and handling mechanical and technical applications, you would be qualified to become a technician/engineer.

"Stupid Personal Application test", she talked to herself.

An airman came near her with a list. "Are you SR-4911-03?" he asked while going through the list with his pen.

Sarah nod, and packed her equipments. Her duffel bag wasn't heavy as it had all the latest standard equipments. All you need in the battlefield; biofoam canister, morphine injectors, defibrillator and most importantly, bandages, tool of all trades.

"I see you're fresh out of camp." said the airman as he fixed his cap. He scribbled on his list, checking Sarah's attendance. It's hard to have a friendly conversation, especially with those who has anxiety issues.

Sarah started mumbling, and playing with her belt as they walked towards the Pelican. As they came near the Pelican's crew compartment, she took a big breath and talked to the airman, "Well, to be honest, this is my first time serving for the UNSC, for humanity to be precise. I have never seen war upfront. Rumours about them were horrifying, they ... "

And the talk between the two continues

 <[ Transmission established... <[ Acquiring further data... >> User: S eeke R (User ID: 30-1194) 
 * Pelican Echo 914 just landed in the landing pad. It was the beginning of my new life.


 * I met an airman today. Quite nice of him to relieve me of my... well. I guess he had a spot in the [capillary].

 5 ub7 ank (7alk ) 14:25, 11 January 2009 (UTC)

13
He'd thought that the dreams were gone for good. It had been such a long time since they'd troubled his sleep that he'd been sure they were finished and dead. During his time away from the military he'd enjoyed long and restful nights without any dreams of the past to disturb him.

But now they were back.

Agent 299-''no, I have a name now. Not a number, a name.''-Apollo woke after another night spent watching fellow agent 2789 die, the deaths of the four rebellious agents at his hands, and his own battle with SPARTAN 141. The last memory wasn't quite as unpleasant, but the fight had been painful. That memory was more of a happy one, for it marked the point at which he had ceased to be an unquestioning instrument of ONI's will and begun to truly think about things. In choosing not to shoot the SPARTAN as they both lay collapsed on the floor of the UNSC Hawaii's storage bay he had defied a clear "no witnesses" directive but had also developed a new perception of things. He could have followed the directive, Lord knew 141 couldn't have stopped him. They'd beaten, stabbed, shot, and blown the hell out of each other to the extent where it was difficult to move without passing out and the SPARTAN had been looking the other way. No one could have stopped him.

But he hadn't, and in doing so he had created one memory that didn't seek to torment him. But the others...

2789, the first friend Apollo had ever known, had sacrificed himself to allow him to complete their mission. Apollo had avenged him, but the pain had continued for years afterwards. The four traitors had been HPA agents who had decided that they no longer wanted to be ONI's lapdogs and had taken over a base command center in an attempt to secure their release from the military. Apollo had been sent in, and twenty minutes later all four of the agents were dead.

The return of the dreams were obviously a result of where he was. Every day he saw more and more carnage, more and more lives wasted. He had seen rebels barely out of childhood hurl themselves at UNSC patrols with live grenades in either hand. He had seen the corpses of schoolchildren scattered in the road, dead because they had tried to flee their burning classroom only to run into the middle of a firefight. The bodies of mothers who had thrown themselves in front of their children to shield them from oncoming bullets, only to have the ones they had died to save butchered mere moments later. It was only a matter of time before these images became a staple of Apollo's nightmares.

He fitted his battered MJOLNIR plating over his body, its dark paint chipped and worn. He hadn't expected to be issued his old suit after he'd rejoined the military, but someone had saved it for some purpose. Apollo allowed himself a smile as he ran his finger over a piece that looked slightly fresher- if such a word could be applied to any part of his aged carapace-than the others. Here was where 141 had unloaded half a clip into his chest, a few of the bullets missing his heart by inches.

As he slid his helmet onto his head and began to clean his Battle Rifle, he offered up a silent prayer that the fighting would end soon. Let the rebels lay down their arms and join the UNSC in rebuilding the shattered planet. Let the suicide charges and suicide bombings stop, let young lives cease to be thrown away. Because until that happened, the innocent would continue to die by the thousands along with the rebels who believed that they were doing the right thing. And he and the others would have to continue in the killing and torture and destruction.

Any soldier worth his salt should be anti-war. Decades ago Apollo would have scorned such a sentiment, but now that he had lived with civilians and had civilians for friends he could understand the hell that a war like this truly was.

But for now, the only thing he could do was his duty, no matter how grisly a duty it was.

Agent 2994, Apollo, finished with his rifle and once again went off to war.

14
BATTLEGROUP CHECHNYA HIGH ORBIT MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0521 HOURS ZULU

Why had he been found? Spared the rightful death he should have been given all those years ago. Under his command the UNSC The Road Not Taken had participated in over thirty seven naval engagements, and during everyone he and his crew were bloodied, not beaten. When his vessel took a lethal hit while duking it out with a Covenant destroyer in the orbit of Arcturus III, firing the MAC should have shaken the vessel apart, the Archer missiles being flushed should have burned through the damaged hull. No, that was not what happened, his preservation instincts had forced him to evacuate, to try and reach the cryobay for hopes that one day he might be saved.

When the Hemmingway happened upon the marred hulk of his warship, why couldn’t they have overlooked it? Just passed it by and report it as one more ship lost in the fray of the Human-Covenant War. No, they deployed a boarding party, rescued Bodet and brought him into a galaxy that he was utterly unprepared to live with. Instead of the slow transition from wartime to peace, he was thrown from an era where he had been fighting tooth and nail for every colony, asteroid, or space station he was ordered to defend from the onslaught of the Covenant into one where war was non-existent, where he was outdated.

Outdated, a human being that was set in ways not thought about for decades.

“Authorization granted, however I am not sure why they would indicate weapons free” announced the AI as command sent their response.

Either they believed him, or hoped that he sent a MAC round through the hull of an unarmed civie freighter and was kicked from the UNSCDF.

“Alright, have the Minkoskwi flood its comms and get a boarding party together, probably nothing aboard but we might as well have a little check.” Bodet smiled, forgetting what he had just been thinking about and hoping for the best result.

The holographic display updated to account for the frigate’s acceleration away from its battlegroup towards the suspect vessel. Within seconds it began to bombard the freighter with MASER and radio communications over all channels warning that they were about to be boarded by the UNSC for suspicion of carrying weapons, the equivalent of a police siren and blow horn used when an officer attempted to pull over a vehicle. Instantly the ships heading and acceleration changed on the display, the numbers coinciding with the shift of its avatar on the readout, a scan revealing that it was attempting to reach superluminal status as its translight drive began to charge for a jump.

“Looks like we have a runner!” called the captain of the Minkoskwi.

The ships transmissions changed to inform the merchant vessel that if it attempted to enter subspace it would be destroyed through means of force.

“Assume hostile! Both the Harlem and Romeo & Juliet are ordered to engage, make sure those bastards don’t try and skip out.” ordered the admiral, now watching the event unfold on the numerous video feeds being streamed to the Chechnya’s monitors and the main holodisplay of the bridge.

Now it appeared that the ship was attempting to slow its acceleration, its vector changing to one that would bring it closer to the planet instead of an outbound one that would guarantee it could drop into subspace and make a getaway.

Matthew Tocar looked over the interior of the shuttle he now sat in, the subtle changes made to the ships bearing by the various thrusters mounted on the exterior alerting him that they were nearing the MV. As the rear of the vessel was thrown into a 180 degree turn, Tocar knew it was seconds before they stormed the vessel.

“Go. Go. Go!” yelled the staff sergeant aboard the shuttle as the airlock slid open and a portal into the ship revealed.

The six man team moved in a loose sweeping formation, weapons raised as their eyes scanned the aisles of cargo containers that made up the terrain of the ship. This was not the ideal conditions for this type of operation, going into an unknown environment that most likely held hostile forces. To grant this theory credit, five millimeter rounds began to pelt them, their armor withstanding the unsuspected barrage long enough to allow the marines to take cover.

Staff Sergeant Boylan fired his MA5C into the area he believed the rounds to come from, gaining the response of a second spray of five millimeter from around the ninth cargo container up the aisle. Directing his squad’s fire, Boylan began to return fire and order Tocar and Talley to flank along the adjacent passageway.

Sounds of a firefight were replaced by the moans of an injured man, signaling an end to the gunfire hopefully. Tocar rounded the corner, finding an elder man lying on the ground with an M7 on the ground beside him. There was no doubt he was dead, seeing as his chest was ripped up by 7.62 NATO and bleeding profusely.

“Clear!” yelled the young recruit, then stepping out around the corner to see his fellow troopers.

He and the rest of the squad relaxed, now eyeing the numerous cargo containers that populated the vessel. The Sergeant began to give orders again, sending two men to the bridge to retrieve any possible information about what was aboard, and for the rest to begin investigating the cargo aboard.

Talley was first to fire at the locking mechanism of the container, followed by grabbing a hold of the now perforated metal and pulling it ajar. All eight eyes of the remaining squad members went wide as a flashlight was activated; over a hundred military-grade assault rifles meeting their gaze.

“Admiral, you need to take a look at this” Tocar managed to get out over his radio.

-

“Oh my god” were the only words that escaped Bodets lips as the true manifest of the Arcturus was displayed on his personal console.

“Transmitting to command, Sir”

// UNSC PRIORTY ALPHA TRANSMISSION Encryption Code: / red / From: ADM BODET To: VADM SON Subject: Merchant Vessel Arcturus, UNSCMF Registry F587-62212-Arc Classification: CLASSIFIED (alpha)

MV Arcturus confirmed hostile to UN interests, contents aboard listed. All equipment has been noted to be manufactured by Jennings & Rall, along with several references to an employee working with the company.

14000 + military-grade assault rifles of M3A3, MA5C, BR55HB SR and M19A2 designations. 1500 + military-grade marksman weapons of M24, M55, and SRSD99-S2 designations. 690 + kilograms high quality plastic explosives similar to C12 350000 + rounds of varying calibers of ammunition. 6500 + military-grade grenades

Delta

15
MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0530 HOURS ZULU

The trio stepped out of their Luxury Hog, Gabriel jumping out of his position in the "cargo bay", while Jamal and Helen stepped out of their positions as driver and "shotgun", respectively. Gabriel threw a bag over his shoulder, which contained highly sensitive recording equipment, as well as three suits of SPI Armor, if need be. They chose a position in a hotel room overlooking the exact strike point, along a densely packed inter-city highway, where there just so happened to be a "stop light", a holdover from the 20th century, reinstated as accidents mounted with faster vehicles.

"Jamal, how come they just don't have us go in as the strike team? Why are they dumping all of this shit off on the threes and fours? I mean, honestly, half of them outrank us, and they still can't tell their ass from their elbow!" said Gabriel, expressing his frustration over always being given secondary assignments and placed on backup, while the IIIs and IVs led in the strike teams.

"My guess would be because some Rear Echelon Mother Fucker (referring to Kawika Son) decided that it would be a great idea to hand off the most sensitive missions to little children, terrorists, and genetically enhanced mutants.

Jamal didn't like the Myrmidons, not one bit. While many humans thought that his class, the SPARTAN-IIs were non-human, he still maintained his humanity, making friends, forming a close bond, and still maintaining his personality, even after the brutal augmentations. However, the IVs, those Myrmidons, were artificially created, making them so in-human, that it wasn't even funny.

Jamal sighed, thinking that he should ask Son, that REMF whose only major engagement of the Great War consisted of his ass being saved by actual men who had shed their blood so that him and his dumbass team of NAVSPECWAR Operatives could get out alive, about receiving at the very least MJOLNIR Mk. VI, or even the prototypical VII armor, as even they, the "great" Azure Team, the heroes of Minorca, the Grey Team of class two, the saviors of Ares IV, had only received Mk. IV armor, not being around for the re-issue at Reach, and even after the Great War, they still wore their decades old armor, which was even starting to rust.

He rolled his eyes, setting up a camera that would record the take down in high-speed, and laughed at the Myrmidon's ass that he kicked earlier.

''He probably thought I was some REMF... bad mistake, bud.''

After setting the camera to "record", he slouched back onto a plush couch that was in the Hotel room, and turned on the COM (evolutions of the 20th and 21st Century Television), and watched one of the standard UNSC broadcasts about how they were holding down the terrorist organizations.

TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0530 HOURS ZULU

Nathaniel White, Lieutenant Colonel, UNSC Army, rapped his knuckles on the door of Kawika Son, his immediate superior officer. Leading Task Force Ranger, as well as Ranger 38/6, he had been a veteran of several Counter-Terrorism operations and Insurrectionist suppression, leading his Ranger Platoon, then Company, then Battalion, from the front. However, as he gained more rank, he was deemed "too valuable" to be sent on actual operations, and would have to watch from a tactical operations center. He hoped that his men, especially the enlisted ones, knew that he wanted to be out there, in front, the first one to face the enemy, but he knew that there would probably be a few, probably the newer ones, who would wonder why he wasn't leading them, delegating that authority to who he picked as the assault leader.

However, in the previous days, the Rangers were moved to the back as a quick reaction force, ready to go in if the NAVSPECWAR and FORCE RECON boys were ever caught in an intense fire fight. It probably had something to do with Kawika Son being a former member of Naval Special Warfare, hinting at a nepotistic relationship, him moving his former unit to the forefront, gaining honor and distinction.

He set those thoughts into the back of his head, knowing that a good soldier never questioned his superior officers unless it was a moral dilemma, and heard Son say "come in".

Taking a seat, White watched as Son read an ONI intelligence report, and by the look on Son's face, it wasn't good.

"Lieutenant Colonel White, I have some highly interesting news right here. Want to guess what it is?"

White immediately thought of the worst.

"They have a nuclear weapon?"

"No, but good guess. They do have weapons. And a lot of them, all coming from one of our most trusted Manufacturers.

White ran through the list, knowing full well that HRV or Misriah wouldn't sell their weapons, as they were too high-profile. He started to think of some of the lesser arms-manufacturers, and one name popped into his head: Jennings and Rall.

"Jennings and Rall, sir?"

"Exactly. I want your Ranger 38/6C to go to the UNSC Checnya, and to act as boarders. Any arms shipments coming in and out of here better be for us, you understand?"

"Sir, yes Sir."

White walked out of Son's office, then stepped into the darkness of the early morning, watching as this planet's sun began to come up. He sat his hat upon his head, and stepped towards the "Ranger Compound", where his units, Ranger 38/6 and the 8th Irish Rangers, had set up shop.

-- Sgt. johnson  18:25, 11 January 2009 (UTC)

16
TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" JOINT TASK FORCE (OFFCMDRJTF) MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0535 HOURS ZULU<

As Daniel Jackson woke up from his nap in the Barracks, Dawson approached him. "Hey, Jackson, did you hear" said Dawson. "What?" said Jackson. "The 2 Rogue SPARTAN-IIIs, you know, G-294 and the other one, were captured, let off the hook and are joining us" said Dawson. "What?!" yelled Jackson. "Those 2 Bastards, who betrayed us and killed our buddies, are off the hook and are joining us?!". "Yup, also, ODSTs are probably coming her" replied Dawson. "Oh great, thos arrogant Bastards" replied Jackson. "Knowing you, you probably shot the SPARTAN-IIIs when you meet them, right?" said Dawson. "Damm Straight!!" replied Jackson. Then, UNSC Military Officer came in the Barracks. "Sgt. Daniel Jackson, grab your gear and get your Marines together, you've been assigned an New Mission" said the Officer. Daniel Jackson and Kurt Dawson geared up, rounded the Marines up, and headed straight for the Briefing Room.

ShockTrooper

17
TASK FORCE 51 FOB "HOTEL CALIFORNIA" Myrmidon Barracks MIDGARD, ALPHA CORVI SYSTEM 0530 HOURS

Tobias sat at his desk by his bunk, with a disassembled M91 Shotgun all over the desk. He sat there with two pairs of needle nose pliers with his right hand shaking slightly, and his eye twitching quite noticeably. He was trying to pull apart a spring that had compressed over time. He would rather fix the spring himself than get a new one from the armory, that way, he knew that if the spring failed it was his own damned fault. As he finally got it back into the shape that he wanted he started to assemble the gun again as he heard his bunkmate, Conall, walk in.

“I heard that you decided to pick a fight with Jamal.” Conall said snidely.

“What’s it to you? I’m the one who ended face first on the ground.” He snapped back.

“I just don’t want to see you die, I would be the only one that would willingly give you a eulogy.” Conall retorted without missing a beat.

Conall went over to his footlocker and got out a few things as Tobias finished reassembling the M91 and placing it to the side, as he got up to go put it back in his locker at the armory. Most people have “their” guns, but Tobias was a bit OCD about his guns, Conall had seen him heat, melt, and mold plastic pieces back in shape rather than just walk to the armory to get a new part. The guy was crazy, but he did a damn good job keeping his guns up to snuff. He once bitched for an entire day that his gun had slowed its fire rate by a sixteenth of a second and he had no idea why.

“’’Ya, he's a crazy SOB, but he gets the job done.’’” Conall thought to himself.

Tobias then proceeded to load five drum magazines with 12 gauge flechette shot. As he got up to walk to the armory Conall opened up the desk, took out his combat knife and put it in the duffel bag that currently resided in his footlocker.

“’’Better get ready.’’” He thought.

Blake TalkWork

17
As Simon had suspected, Redmond was waiting for him outside his door when he emerged in his SPI armor. The Myrmidon was wearing his own combat suit with his BR clipped to his back and his sidearm on his leg. The young soldier approached him as soon as he was fully out in the hall.

"Good morning sir!" Redmond called, enthusiastic as always. "I was starting to think you'd slept in!"

Simon sighed and adjusted the helmet he carried under his arm. "I don't sleep in, Redmond. You know that. Oh, and you had better not have brought me coffee again."

Redmond shrugged. "Why would I do that after you told me not to last time?"

Because you're too eager to please me, Simon thought. After I said I didn't like coffee you started bringing water, and after I told you to stop hovering around my door an hour before I got out you cut yourself down to a half hour. "Because I know you too well," he said aloud. "We both know you've forgotten about some of my preferences in the past."

Redmond nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe I should write them down somewhere."

SPARTAN-MYR094 had been one of the trainees Simon had instructed during his time as a Myrmidon drill instructor and seemed to be the only one who had ever fully appreciated what he had to teach. While the others had considered him an incompetent and weak DI, Redmond had for some weird reason of his own embraced everything Simon had tried to knock into the Myrmidons with wild enthusiasm. This enthusiasm had rapidly evolved into full-blown hero worship, and from then on Simon had been unable to shake Redmond off. The kid was good; he shared Simon's appreciation for self-preservation and his philosophy of "look and think very, very carefully before you leap". The problem was that he seemed to want to rely on only a single person to maintain his self-esteem. Even a minor compliment from Simon would send him over the moon, and any criticism would drive him to immediately improve.

Redmond was actually a welcome addition to Simon's life. Since he generally shunned contact from other S-IIIs and TF51 operatives, Simon almost always worked solely with Redmond in the field. The Myrmidon was good with a BR, helping to compensate for Simon's own deficiency in the accuracy department. He was also fast, which meant that he worked well with Simon's strategy of huddling in cover for a while before sprinting to another shelter. Another use for Redmond was to keep him informed of what was going on throughout the task force. The skinny Myrmidon was an excellent fly on the wall and was good at uncovering bits of gossip.

"Anything interesting happen while I was suiting up?"

Redmond considered this question for a moment. "Well, Tobias tried to pick a fight with one of the SPARTAN-IIs."

"And how did that end up?"

"The guy knocked Tobias on his back in, like, one second."

Simon nodded. "Anything else interesting?"

"Usual asshole comments about you during breakfast."

Simon squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. "Please tell me you didn't pick a fight again. If I need to defend myself, I will. And I don't need to."

Redmond looked uncomfortable. "Eric'll be fine. I only hit him twice."

Shaking his head, Simon began to walk away from his room. "So is that all? Pretty boring morning for you then, huh?"

"There is one more thing, sorry I didn't mention this before..."

"Spit it out, Redmond."

"Um, I heard that today's rotation for strike king is um, you."

Simon stopped dead in his tracks.

"Shit."