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Thread: Mission One: An Extraction

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    Mission One: An Extraction

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    Dreams. The experts said you didn't dream, but you do. Good dreams, nightmares, they all blend together in the endless sleep. Off in the distance there is a hiss and a crack. Something uncomfortable brushes your skin in the darkness. Something wet, slimy, cold. Air blows hot and warm over your face, and fear claws at you.

    A light blinks red twice, and the young Asian man moves over to the consol. The four outlines of human bodies read green.

    There is another hiss, and everything goes white. Hot air blasts your body, and you feel bile rise in your throat. Training kicks in, but your body won't respond.

    A com crackles to life, and the voice of a young man filters through. "Welcome back. Everything looks good here. Sorry for the rude wakening, but it seems we have an update. " The voice cuts out.

    The dim metal of the walls and floors glisten in the fluorescent light, and the grate of the floor feels warm against your bare feet. A door hisses open and a man strides in, dressed in a black jumpsuit with a gold bar on the shoulder. Lieutenant Johnson is a strong, older looking black man with a stern face. He looks you over once, the cuts his head to the side.

    "Wake up marines. You've got a job to do! Get dressed and meet me in the briefing room in 10!"

    The door closes without a sound. Everything starts to come back. You are on the UNSS: In Amber Clad, medium battle cruiser, heading to investigate reported uprisings on one of the colonies.

    NOTE: You are all familiar with the layout of the ship. Cryo-room III (where you are) is right down the hall from your locker room and bunk area. On the same deck is the mess hall and gym area (weight room, sports, fighting ring, etc) Two decks down is where the hangers start, and where all of your arms and equipment are stored. The deck directly above you is intelligence and briefing. Everything above that is officer's area and the Bridge and all of that. The aft of the ship is completely dominated by the engine area, and going throughout the entire ship are maintenence hatches for repair crews and such.

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    John lets out a weary sigh, "Well...another glorious day."

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    Orlando slowly opens his eyes with a heavy sigh he steps forward and into the light. "Again into the gate of hell." Orlando looks tot he other pods seeing that hsi brother and sister have still live to fight he kneels down and says a small prayer to tanks and one for forgiveness then stands and slowly walks to the locker room. As he starts to place his gear on one peace at a time he softly humming the battle hymn to the republic to himself though those around him can hear hear him. as each piece of amour snaps into place he says a prayer over the gear. He looks around the room with a grim look and walks to the briefing room and waits for the others.

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    John, still with heavy feet, walks over to the locker room and performs a few stretches in his arms and legs, trying to rid himself of the stiffness from the cyrostasis. After getting dressed, he flexes his muscles and moves his limbs one at a time to test his mobility. "Another mission...I wonder what the Lieutenant has for us this time." After a brief moment to make sure he has all of his clothing in order, he quickly grooms himself at his locker and makes his way to the briefing room to join Orlando and wait for the others.

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    Damn, I could use a smoke, was Reams' first thought. Never should have quit in the first place. He instinctively reached for his chest pocket after the Lieutenant had gone, but soon remembered they didn't freeze you with your smokes. Too bad, guess it'll have to wait.

    He sluggishly got out of his Cryo-Tube and made his way to the lockers, greeting the others passively. John and Orlando were quicker about this than himself and Thaydra. Too eager to die, He thought to himself, as he dressed and groomed for breifing.

    Reams entered the briefing room, still trying to get the taste of Cryo-Sleep out of his mouth...

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    Thaydra, otherwise known as Sergeant Fateblade, was never in a great rush to wake... it was one of the finer qualities of being in a position of higher power than at least 95% of the people, not having to be one of the first to jump out of bed and into Hellfire.

    She stretched and yawned in a slow, almost cat-like manner before setting foot on the floor.

    "Now to get geared up and sit through yet another briefing..." she thought. "...Funny how they never do seem very brief."

    Thaydra sauntered over to the briefing room after getting cleaned and geared up. The others were already there, as they generally were by the time she made her appearance at any briefing. She was never real late, but never exactly rushed here in the mornings just to hear what she pretty much already knew or at-least figured.

    She seated herself comfortably in her usual chair and flashed her usual smile at Lt. Johnson "Morning Lieutenant"
    Last edited by KayeoticNeutral; 09-17-2009 at 02:39 AM. Reason: Typos bother me when I make them...

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    The Lieutenant is standing in front of a semi-circular metal table. The room is dark when you enter. There is a grim look on the Lieutenant’s face. Lieutenant Johnson has a reputation for being a helluva leader, and you all know it personally. He has seen more wars than you have days, and has been to hell and back. Despite this, he isn’t a big man. In fact, he is rather short, but stocky, his dark brown skin wrinkled with age. Despite this, he looks to be in perfect shape, and has sharp brown eyes that take you all in at a glance.

    “Good to see a pretty face.” He says with a trace of a smile. “That’s more than I can say for the rest of you!” He lets the friendly insult hang for a moment, but there is no humor to be found. The holo-vid flashes on behind him, illuminating everything in an unearthly blue glow, and his face returns to the same grim expression.
    “I’m not going to bull-shit you. We have a problem. That’s why they called you first. “ Behind him a planet takes shape. It is a small moon with a vaguely green tint to it, though it is hard to tell in the light. The words ‘Medusa V’ scroll underneath it, along with a reading of statistics. Gravity, oxygen level, technology level, etc.
    “Boys and girls. It seems like the riots on Medusa V are worse than we thought. Either they didn’t report accurately, or it was….it doesn’t matter. All that does is this.” The map zooms in and hovers over a large city. ‘Sain Han’ scrolls below, along with a population total. Population: 1’234’500
    The map shows a modern metropolis, surrounded by a forest. Roads lead out, but there don’t seem to be any suburbs at all. Other boxes pop up around the map, each an aerial recording. Smoke billows from the streets, and in one of the videos you see an explosion blossom soundlessly in the distance.

    Abruptly they all freeze, and you see Johnson rub his eyes. “The terrorists have threatened to detonate a MKIII-278 Tactical Nuke in the city. Tonight. It’s outdated, but it is still big enough to wipe out everything in the area.
    Here it is. You have 8 hours to get in and get the terrorist leader. We need him alive. It is the only way to stop this insurrection permanently. Find out where they are hiding, and finish this. He is in the city.” A marker pops up red on the map and flashes. “Intel reports that he is somewhere in this area. This needs to be fast, and it needs to be quiet. Understood? Questions?”

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    "So what kind of resistance are we going to see down there? Small arms, heavy weapons?" Orland lets no emotion show on his face as he speaks. "Just want to know what type of hell I'm dropping into." he lets out a sigh "Or is that in-tell just as good as the stuff we got on the riots?"

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    "Good to see a pretty face", the Lieutenant says. The corners of his lips have faintly risen at this point, and it was the closest thing she'd ever seen to a smile from him so it was always a welcoming gessture... for as barely noticeable as it was, it was rare.

    Lieutenant Johnson entailed the dangers that have been occuring and intensifying on Medusa V, particularly in Sain Han. "How could this have been happening?" she wondered. "...wait, an MKIII-278... I haven't seen or heard anything about one of those in a while."

    "This needs to be fast, and it needs to be quiet. Understood? Questions?" She hears the Lieutenant finish.

    "Quick, Quiet, Keep the bastard alive. Got it." She stands from her seat and makes way to the door, then turns to face everyone. "We're on it, Lieutenant. Come on guys, let's not keep the scumbag waiting." She hadn't even realized questions were still being asked-- she was ready to get the job done.
    Last edited by KayeoticNeutral; 09-17-2009 at 12:48 PM. Reason: Didn't see Misunderstand's post.

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    Orlando lets the next question trail off as his sergeant get up and leave the briefing room say they were on it. He looks to the LT. then the other and holding back a smile he calls out to her "HEY SARG! Don’t you want the tactical analyses….?” He turns back to the LT. “Well I guess we could brief her on the way down.” He lets out a deep sigh “As I was saying what the hell do we know about what the hell is going on down there?” Though in the back of his head he was jsut as eger to get ground under his feet again. The lord's work is never done he thought to himself as he waited for the LT to respond.
    Last edited by Misunderstand; 09-17-2009 at 06:50 PM. Reason: typoes and bad grammar

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    John continues to sit in his chair, slightly slouching foward with his hands grasping eachother, and his elbows on his knees. John looks over to Orlando, and with one foot twitching up and down he says, "Sir, I would also like to know what we're up against." And continues to listen to what the LT has to say.

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    "Fast? Quiet? Sounds like my deal. Not sure about the whole 'alive' thing after I'm done, but I'll try" Said Reams with a grin. "And hold up there Fateblade, we're gonna need a bit more intel if the job's gonna get done right." He looked at the fire in her eyes, that fire always got him right in the chest. It gave him a pain, like a cigarette slowly working its way through his flesh. She was one helluva woman. He checked his pocket for his smokes, Right, I quit...

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    Thaydra marched back into the room and plopped back into her chair with a fiery look in her eyes and a huff.

    Once seated, she began to mutter "We're rushed for time, but yet everyone wants to chat about what's out there..." her voice grew to a normal tone. "My only question is is there anything out there that a gun won't kill or that highly trained, professional marines can't handle? Better yet... that I can't handle? Seriously..."

    She glanced over at Reams as he checked his pocket "You quit, remember?" Then she let up a little and grinned. "I don't know if it was a worse habit when you smoked or if it's a worse habit that you check for something you don't have every two minutes."

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    There wasn't much that scared Orlando but when the sarg got that look in her eye it made him wary. Death was something Orlando was seeking but he wasn't going to find it before his work was done. " I am not saying there isn't anything down there we can handle. But we all remember the last time we jumped blind don't we." Orlando let the words hang in the air a moment "Now then." He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter and tosses them to John "For all our sakes start again this is a bad day to be wanting something like that." He turn back toward the LT and waits for his question to be asked. You would think that we were a bunch of kids and not an elite fighting force sometimes He thought to himself. The memories of lost comrades is a constant in his mind. Gregory, Nathan, Nickolaus, Mathew the list goes on as he says their names inside his head Anna, Kenneth......Orlando's eyes grow hard as he stairs forward.

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    Johnson watched everything with a passive look on his face, used to the squabbling of the marines. He had been with every single one of them on more missions than he could remember, and knew their strengths and weaknesses. This squad was determined and well balanced. They worked like a unit when it counted, and looked out for each other. He knew that, and respected them. They followed their Sarge, but kept the spitfire in line.

    Moments of silence passed, and Johnson put his hands flat on the table to look everyone in the eye. “Told you I won’t bullshit you Rev.” He said, looking at Orlando. “We know they have old UNSC tech. Which means Assault Rifles, Battle Rifles, grenades, the works. You will be facing down everything from the past 30 years, but I don’t want this to be a run and gun! Remember, “ He smashes his hand onto the table for emphasis, “ Fast and quiet. The longer you are there, the more people will die, the less likely you are getting out without a serious fight. I don’t want to have to come save your sorry asses…again.”

    “Just be ready, stay alert, and keep your com silent. You aren’t the only team being dropped. Zero’s being dropped too, to take care of the Tactical Nuke, but that’s it. Don’t blow it.” He stands back up and snaps a salute.

    “Now get your asses to bay 16. Get suited up and grab your gear. You go in quiet and hot. In and out. You have the known location of the terrorist leader, and we will be beaming info to your HUD as we get it. The AI in the city will help you out whenever it can, give you more info, and get your eyes in everywhere. Use it.

    And marines…..good luck.”

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