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originally posted in:The New Dojo
4/15/2017 10:21:58 PM
25
[b]I Once Killed a Man in a Tanzanian Bar...[/b]
[i]Ko Rudo Mountains, ???[/i]
Lieutenant Mark Render cautiously unstrapped himself from the pilot's seat of the Pelican, and took his helmet off for a long yawn. Just like the rest of his team, he needed sleep: he'd already gone 33 hours without it, and his eyelids had begun to feel like lead. Back in New Mombasa, he'd been able to court insomnia through combat, fighting the Covenant nonstop from deployment at 0600 Tuesday, to 0800 Wednesday. His armor was slick with a collage of iridescent alien blood, and occasionally tattered strips of wing membrane could be found tucked within the crevices of his armor. He couldn't imagine taking his armor off now though. They'd been through hell together.
He took a second to gaze out the cockpit, looking out onto the strangely familiar landscape surrounding him, and then began to walk down the ship to wake his crew. Ever since their NCO had fallen, his men had turned to him as a de-facto leader, so in acceptance of his temporary position, he'd allowed them rest on the ride out of New Mombasa. What happened between then and now was... Fuzzy. The first sign of danger happened when Hawking radiation levels had begun to spike beneath their position. They were flying above a massive portal that had been unearthed by Covenant excavation the previous day, merely because of the fact that flying back towards the city was suicide. There'd been a flash of light, and some kind of discharge from the portal... He didn't remember what happened after that, but he didn't feel rested if he had been knocked out. Quite the opposite, in fact.
He unholstered his M6C/SOCOM, and banged its frame against the side of the Pelican twice, the sound echoing throughout the hold. That would be enough to wake his crew. They'd set up camp here, and then get ready to scout the area out by dawn.
[spoiler]Open to Ver/Sonic. [/spoiler]
English
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William woke with a jolt, banging his head against a portion of the inside. He groaned, then swung his legs over, clad in his BDU, save for the helmet. His knife and right arm were covered in stinking orange goo, the blood of a Hunter. His blonde hair shifted slightly as he put his helmet on, but didn't black out the visor just yet "Ugh.....We heading out?"
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"Yeah. Gonzo's got the brunt of the supplies, and he's set out already with our MREs and some ammo. He's gonna go scale the peak, see if he can determine where we are based on the stars, and maybe if we can connect with the bee-net. You and I are staying at the ship for now. We're gonna unload everything important from this wreck, and see if we can take it with us. If Gonzo finds a settlement, we'll head there. If he doesn't, we're gonna have to make our own." Render already had his armor on, and judging by the snow and frost on his BDU, he'd already been outside for some time. He'd probably let you sleep in for a moment. He walked over to a rack by the cockpit, and grabbed his M7S/Caseless SMG, and slung it to the bandoleer across his chest. "C'mon Smith, let's get going on these supplies."
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"Alright boss." he slung his MA5C over his back, and stood up. He checked to make sure he had some ammo before doing so "I lost my goddamn battle rifle, so tell me if you see it"
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"If it's not in here, then you left it back in Africa... And none of us want to go back to that hellhole." He opened a storage cache, and pulled out several BA-53635/PLMD batteries, which he placed inside of his rucksack, alongside the bulky PP-16979/AM-Sh charger, which barely fit inside of the large pack. He pulled out a sheath, from which emerged a large flash drive, which he inserted into the base of his helmet. His visor lit up for a second, before becoming subdued once more. Render briefly turned to you to explain what it was. "The audio logs and Superintendent data than we downloaded in New Mombasa takes up precious space. I uploaded our astronavigational data, comm features, and all the basics onto this new VISR package. The old one is where I put my recordings, the audio files, and some music. I'd suggest that you do the same."
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"You know I'm not a -blam!-ing techie." He said with a sigh "And if I left it in Africa, then I left it in that damn Hunter." He said with a chuckle, getting up. "I'll get to lookin, I'll check around the ship, cause you have no clue what might've gotten caught in that portal."
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"Yeah yeah, sod off." Render waved a hand at you dismissively while you looked for missing items. The inside of the ship seemed clean, for the most part, besides for a few items disturbed by the crash. There was Battle Rifle ammo--several magazines--stored in a side cache, but no Battle Rifle could be found. Outside, the ship was damaged. Heavily so. One of the wings had nearly been severed upon landing, while the hull looked like it had been scorched by fire. There was plasma damage towards the back ramp, which was extended into the snow for now. One thing was for certain though: this ship wasn't flying anytime soon.
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"Yo, Render? Found my spare ammo, but not the rifle." He called out, looking around. "You know, if this bird can work a little, we could try raising someone around here, or even use our comms to try" He climbed on top of the ship, looking around "Once we find that rifle, I can lookout from here. It's not a bad view."
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The clouds and snow obscured the stars, but you could probably make out what was below the mountain with a Battle Rifle scope. Render grabbed some telescopic binoculars from a chair, walked out into the snow, and threw them up to you. "I'll work on the comms, since apparently you aren't a techie." He said with sarcasm, "Just tell me if you can make out a city, or outpost, or anything from here."
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He grabbed the binoculars, laughing "what are you implying? At least I've got the sense to use a tank if I can, unlike you." He looked through them, looking down to take a look
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"Hey, it was a helluva fight. We had fun, right?" Render had begun to repair a radio, while he attempted to establish communication with Gonzo all the while. Over the past 35 hours, you'd begun to appreciate how much of a multi-tasker he could be. "Anyways, what's your status? See anything yet?"
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"Can't see much from this height, we need to get lower. I can see if someone's sneaking up on us, but that's about it." He said, looking about "Gonzo turn up anything?"
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"Not yet. He sent a signal a moment ago, but I'd rather him return here than for us to hike up there, and leave the ship unprotected. I'll go send him a flare, cause our comms are worth shit I'm during this storm." Render snatches a flare from his utility pack, and walks out of the hold with it. He then proceeds to throw it atop the Pelican, where the neon light shines like a miniature sun through the snow. As he did so, he called out to you. "Really wish that we had one of those squids with us. The Engineers! We'd be set to leave already if we had one."
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"that or we'd explode." He said, shrugging
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"Still, I kinda felt bad for them They just wanted to fix things. Wish that we could've saved some." He gets a brief burst of static on the radio, and after checking its frequency, stands up and walks a little bit up a nearby hill, squinting at the top of the mountain. "That's Gonzo. His comms are fried, but I still get static when he tries to transmit data. Just keep yourself occupied for a sec Smith, I'll go check this out."
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He sat down, unslinging his rifle "Babysitting again? Why do I have to escort and protect everything?" He asked, jokingly
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Gonzo had already awakened long before, his silver flask of fire water and M45 laying next to him on his metal cot lined by itchy linens. His BDU was unkempt as well, engrained with soot and conspicuous sticky residue and the Covenant skull fragment here or there. He had lightly swayed, legs folded criss-cross on his small bed, cut short by the throttle of the Pelican sharply cutting. Slowly he regained his senses from the ritualistic meditation he had accustomed himself to, taking the cold barrel of his shotgun and loading in shells scattered and coated by dust under his cot. Taking his flask, putting his lips to the cool chrome for a sip of rye to coat his scratchy throat, then sealing it again and sliding it into the breast pocket of his UNSC slacks, he slowly stood. He pulled on a coat long and covered in goat fur, scavenged from a Ku Rudo outpost shortly after arrival; it was almost painfully itchy and coarse, but the only defense against frostbite and hypothermia. What accompanied this were boots worn, with soles barely existing, once used to trod the streets of New Mombasa.
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"Gonzo, we're moving out. Take all the MREs and ammunition that you can carry on your rucksack. We're gonna scale this mountain's peak, and scout out the area. We'll make base camp back here once we can figure out where the hell we are." Render's visor polarized as he stepped out into the light, instinctively protecting him against the flurry of snow that came down from above. The entire mountain was engulfed in snow, and dark clouds blotted out the twilight stars above. The clouds seemed to hang low, as if you could reach out and touch them yourself. The peak must extend beyond the clouds, past the obstructing snow.
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He had proceeded to put on his heavy BDU armor over his simple one-piece scrubs last washed God-knows how long ago, heavy and with a protruding chest strewn by frags. His shoulder pauldron held the butt of his shotgun and his heavy SPNKR was slung across his back, preparing as he took orders. With only a salute and bringing a lighter to his cigarette, sliding one into Render's hands, patting his de facto leader's shoulder and putting on his bulky helm, he dropped from the bowels of the Pelican. Rucksack slung over his shoulder, bountiful with rations and ammunition as well as basic survival equipment, and the bulk of his armor, only the mass-spreading properties of his magnetic boots could keep him afloat above the feet of snow below. A red sunrise began to loom behind the clouds and biting swirling snow, painting the clouds pink, but not without the blue haze of the retreating moon and brilliant starts staring at Gonzo. It truly was beautiful, he remarked internally before recommending that he pay attention to the jagged cliff edges and pitfalls of the area. After an hour of trudging through the snow and braving the only-intensifying Storm, the visor of his helmet fogged with heavy breath. It had became so cold his armor bore its own snow and developing ice.
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Render was still cooped up in the Pelican's hold, bumming a smoke once in a while as he tended to a busted radio with a toolbox. He'd taken off his heavy gauntlets for added dexterity as he tended to the intricate workings of the machine, and with expert precision, began to remap its haywire design. He'd updated his VISR with a fresh data package, which had freed his tactical apparatus of some much needed memory, but it had also allowed him to transmit data to his squad mates once more. His original transponder had been fried during the initial EMP surge when the Prophet of Regret had entered slip space over New Mombasa, hindering him from transmitting data to his teammates. Now, he was able to establish communications once more. "Hey, Gonzo, do you copy?" He said, puffing on his cigarette as he did so. Tobacco had been outlawed by the UEG nearly a century ago, but some Outer Colonies had once produced if, so they'd become quite a precious commodity, especially during the war era. "Smith and I've been compiling our resources, and we're ready to establish a makeshift camp if need be. Can you see the stars yet? Use your astronavigation data to determine where the hell we are... and while you're at it, see if you can locate any nearby settlements."
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Edited by Ver: 4/16/2017 12:55:02 PMGonzo could barely hear over the howling wind and horrible knocking of hail flying into his helmet's visor, great scratches beginning to line it. And even then, Render had began to transform into static, the transmissions sent through VISR compromised by the severity of the storm. The cigarette he had held between his fingers covered in insulated rubber that left a light smoke trail behind him had almost been torn from the tight grip of his fingers. And with that, Gonzo began to barely be able to see anything but white, only feeling part of his boot suspended in air, lurching above a cliff edge. He struggled to regain balance but had fell... Only to land two feet from the ground, covered in snow, a red tattered banner in the wind above him and a small overhang nearby. Further in the distance, Gonzo could see bright lights shining from the stark white storm and blackened walls. He crawled to the underhand, regaining posture and prying sleet from his helmet. The static had only worsened, now only a faint buzzing coming from Bender's part. Gonzo sighed, white frost blowing from his mouth, and took the rocket launcher from his back. He stepped from the overhang and faced in the direction of the Pelican, the storm billowing behind him, feeling the weight of the M41 in his hands before pulling the trigger. An explosive launched from the chamber and propelled through the storm and upwards, after a certain point exploding from air pressure. Gonzo raised a hand over his head to protect from the falling debris, a slight grin crossing his face. Hopefully that had been a beacon to Bender and Smith to beckon them forward.
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Render heard the explosion before he could see it, and ran outside of the Pelican hold to snatch the binoculars away from Smith. In the distance, he could still make out the remnants of flaming debris, though his vision was confused by the pertinent wall of snow. For a moment he felt his heart racing in his chest: loud noises could cause avalanches, but after the telltale grumbling of an avalanche was nowhere to be seen after 30 seconds, he walked back towards the hold. Render had already stripped the Pelican of most of its valuables already, and his rucksack and bandoleer were backed to the brim. His pack was filled to the brim with a PP-16979/AM-Sh charger and several BA-53635/PLMD batteries, which could be used to power nearly anything that they desired... though they were intended for the W/AV M6 G/GNR "Spartan Laser" that he has strapped over his back. Since he had lost his knife in New Mombasa--buried in the control panel of a doomed Scarab platform--he'd placed his old VISR package inside of the empty sheath on his left breast. He'd taken up listening to old audio logs, and even his own combat logs, during his spare time. On his left thigh he had holstered his M7/S SMG, and on his right, his M6C/SOCOM. Finally, he had fragmentation grenades, spare ammunition, and a biofoam canister all tied up on the bandoleers on his chest. By all measures, he looked like a true warrior, a demon from a strange metal hell, and by all means, he was. Though he was ready to relocate already, he would rather that Gonzo report back to the ship, instead of forcing him to leave the craft unguarded. Though it was stripped of its valuables already, it was still a refuge in a storm. He threw a burning neon flare on top of the Pelican, and hoped that Gonzo would see it.
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Gonzo knelt in his overhang, watching the storm, seeing a red flare lost in the storm, pushed away by the strong winds of the blizzard. Nonetheless, the smoke from where the flare was shot was obviously in the direction of the Pelican. It was at this moment that Gonzo realized the rocket he had sent into the air had only alerted Render of possible danger and not Gonzo's discovery. With a grimace, he looked around. The ledge overlooking the mysterious structure sitting at the heart of the storm was a campsite at once, surely, with the burnt firewood of a hearth on the ground and a tent of matte green cloth ripped by the powerful gusts. His VISR had been flashing red for some time now, warning of breaches to the rubbery insulant sheen that Gonzo had worn to stave off frostbite. A shiver beginning to wrack just muscles, the youngest of the team looked at the dying flame of his cigarette and tossed it into the old firewood. Only sparks and light smoke came from it first, but the smallest of flames began to dance from it and soon a large fire had roared upwards. The snow surrounding it acted as a barrier for the flame to expand and consume, and huddling above it for warmth and foregone strength. After a few brief yet invigorating moments of respite, Gonzo took a long, ragged sigh and stepped over the short drop, stumbling towards the Pelican once again and to regroup with Bender.
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Render saw him approaching, and disengaged the smart-link scope on his M6C that he has been looking through. He holstered the pistol, and took his helmet off for a brief moment. Due to his armor's incredible insulation, his hair was matted in sweat and blood from the previous day, without being affected by the cold here. His dark eyes were undermined by heavy bags, and a variety of scrapes and bruises on his cheeks and forehead. His breath came out as raggedy puffs of smoke in the otherwise torrential snowfall. He yells out to you, with you barely able to hear him through the chaotic wind. "I needed some fresh air anyways." He yelled, "We're holding up in the Pelican for the next five hours--the Superintendent fragment says that the worst of the storm should be over by then--and then we'll move out by 0100. D'ya think that there's anyone down there?" He gestured towards the ground, referring to the area below the mountain peak. He then placed his helmet back on as you responded.
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He got a wave once the pelican was in sight, Smith on top, his signature orange blood over his knife sheath and left arm gauntlet. "Hey! Yo! Wolfie! Did you find my damn BR?"
