(Well, I didn't think it was all that subtle an idea. But maybe that's just because I was thinking about it for a while, waiting to post it.
Theevilgood, most everyone who wasn't rather badly wounded in the previous battle in the Covenant hangar has moved out to recover the ship's AI. So unless someone wanted their character wounded, and joining up on the "bandwagon" that Davaran and Brute are about to put together, everyone should be moving through the ship toward wherever the Iron Fist's AI is. Probably the bridge? The ship looks a lot like the Truth and Reconciliaton from Halo 1, on the inside. The wounded are back in the hangar still, some who are able guarding the Pelicans)
Brute gave Davaran an incredulous look as he suggested using a plasma rifle to weld. As a cutting torch, maybe. Maybe. But Davaran outranked him in spades, and clearly had more experiance in such things, so Brute gave only a little hesitation. "Well, I dunno about using a plasma rifle like that. It seems kinda. . . dangerous. I've only used an arc welder before. Well, that, and we had an oxy-acetylene torch on the farm. Did a fair amount of welding, though--you'd be surprised at what breaks, and how hard it is to buy replacements on a backwater world like Windfall. That, some of my friends and I used to do off-road racing, and my buddy was a pretty good mechanic. We spent a lot of time doing some really cool stuff. I swapped the tranny from a '38 Galactica into my truck, which was a lot like one of these 'Hogs, but without all that armor and the gun. Anyway. . ."
Brute got to work removing the Warthog's gun. The Pelicans had a few tools on them, and they were sufficient for the task--mostly. Several bolts were stripped, and couldn't be removed, so Brute used the plasma rifle to cut the heads off them. He was a little unsteady because of his injury, and cut some of the Warthog's chassis, too. "Wow, sir, you really weren't kidding about this thing. It even cuts through the armor on this 'Hog like butter. You're gonna have to show me how to cool it down so we can weld and not hack with it."
As he continued to dismount the gun, a connection clicked in his head. "Hey--this Warthog probably doesn't need the armor anymore, either. Maybe we can weld it onto the Ghost, or at least weld something together and bolt it on or something. I know my friend said that sometimes you can't weld stuff if it's the wrong kind of metal. I wonder how tough the plating on this deck is, too? Maybe we could use some of that, if we can cut it."
Within 15 minutes, with helping hands from a few of the other wounded but stable Marines, they had cobbled together one of the oddest-looking war machines since the War began. The awkwardly armored ghost protected the driver very well, though it made it difficult to dismount, since the armor wrapped around the front and sides of the vehicle. The driver could see through an eye-level gap, but didn't have great visibility, and would rely on the gunner to help guide. Davaran had cleverly used some sharp edges of torn metal to augment the ghost's weaponry, making it into a moving wall of spikes, albeit a very slow-moving one. It moved about as fast as a Marine could run, at top speed--enough to damage anything that got in its way, but not enough to escape a bad situation without luck.
Armor and crates had been added around the remounted turret , which protected the gunner from the arms down, and allowed several Marines to ride on the sled, as well, under good cover. Two volunteered, and began collecting as much ammo as they could find--there likely wouldn't be much chance to jump out and restock. Lance Corporal Janet Elisio chose to use an MA5B, with over a thousand rounds at her feet; PFC Victor Rupani wielded two SMGs with a similar amount of ammo. Both had leg wounds, and were limping rather badly, but felt they were up to the task. They loaded a shotgun and several pistols in, as well, since there was plenty of room at their feet, and stood behind the chaingun. If the gunner had to fire toward the rear, they'd have to duck, or get whacked on the head with all three barrels.
Mike examined their handiwork. "Well, it's probably not the best idea either of us have ever had, Major, but I think it'll work pretty well. If it's ok with you, I'd like to drive. I don't think I can handle the gun, but I can move my left arm pretty well, if I don't extend it much. I think we should name her before we set off, though. But don't have any good ideas for that.
Davaran stepped back, dropping a spent plasma pistol to the ground.. "This.. may just be the stupidest thing I've ever done... but it actually, looks like it could work!" he says as he slowly makes his way into the drivers seat. "Now if I could remember where the start but- ah yes, there is it." He presses the button and a strange tapping sound is heard then a click, then about fifty clicks. "Uh.. I dont honestly think its gonna work.. " he says sadly as he looks at the device. Davaran looks over at the hog and sees a cache of ghost parts behind it.. after about ten minutes of integrating a second thruster onto the back to compensate for the massive turret and ammunition crate supply, the thing was ready, with two seperate throttles for the two sets of engines.
Davaran pressed the on button for the back thruster as well as the regular stock thrusters on the ghost itself. The familure sound of a ghost powering up is heard and it floats about two feet off the ground.. "Well guys, The Covenant Express sounds like a nice name." he says almost.. sadly, as he gets inside the armored monstrosity. "I actually. Kindof like this thing." he says with a big smile. Seeing the mounted plasma cannon (Ones like grunts carry) stuck on the front. (Since when I fought the HG the grunts helping left theirs behind when they ran, and I assume since it was a tractor it didn't have its standard loadout.) And the Rocket launcher on the other side, it was a ugly thing.. with two rockets, and however much of a charge that plasmacannon had left. A piece of bent wire went from the plasmagun into the cockpit. A similar wire led from the rocket launcher as well, each on a small bolted together control stick like object, pulled back the plasmagun would fire, and if pushed forward would fire off a rocket, not really the most.. advanced control system at the time but it was proven since before man had guns that this would work.
The marines had boarded the vehicle and it hunched back a little bit, the rear thruster still wasn't holding it up all the way, Davarans shots would have to be angled down since at rest the gun instead of being level was about 10 degrees up.. "I hope they are ready.. Cause I sure as hell am not." He says as he Climbs up on the gun mount.
((So I guess EVERYONE is Halo'd out. I mean, what's going on with the able folks on the Covie ship? Davaran and Brute are at least 45 minutes ahead of everyone else--i. e. it's been 45 minutes or more for them since everyone moved out from the docking bay. Or do I need to guess what you all have been up to:
The alarm went off on the LT's watch, and the Marine next to him stirred. "Five more minutes, mom!" But the Lieutenant was up and ready, and began to shake the others awake. "OK, people, naptime is over. Huon, pass out the apple juice and animal crackers. I hope you Elites like these--they say the crackers taste a lot better than we humans do. Lord Tekka, please collect the sleeping mats and put them back in the closet. I'm gonna read you a story while you have your snack, and then we're moving out. This one is called 'See Spot Run'. . ."😉)
The first thing Yi noticed when she sat down in the co-pilot's seat of the Warhawk was the apparent lack of controls. This, of course, quickly changed when Nuron brought up the holographic controls. Her gaze alternated between the various view screens, her own control panel, and Nuron's. She observed that certain knobs seemed to adjust pitch, yaw, heading, and the various other components of a traditional pilot's controls. When she finally reached for one herself, a small text box appeared which labeled the button as "maneuvering thrusters 1-4". That would make things easier.
Nuron said something about things "getting heavy", which probably meant he was going to perform a looping maneuver which would direct the G-forces downward. These flyboys always thought their jockeying would get to everyone's stomach. But they always had such thin egos. . . "Try doing a back flip in 3.2 G's with full combat gear," she quipped, not adding, "While dodging fire from three differant directions." Yi felt the substantial increase in her apparent weight, and adjusted. G-force fluctuation was old news to any ODST. She noticed the WarHawk spin around, and then realized that the apparent increase in weight wasn't from the maneuvering. And the WarHawk wasn't, couldn't, spin to create false gravity. It was true artificial gravity--in a human ship. She hadn't even noticed that she'd had WEIGHT after they left the Iron Fist's docking bay. "Nice trick," she commented to Nuron, truly impressed.
Then her stomach dropped out on her for a second, and she felt MUCH heavier, and she grabbed for a knob, reflexively trying to find something to hold on to. The knob moved toward her as she pulled on it. This control layout was obviously a very versatile design, and could be adjusted from user to user, the lack of a tactile flight yoke could be a bit unnerving to most flyers, including Yi. White knuckles help in high-G maneuvers, for some reason. She pulled a readout which displayed the current artificial gravity level to a more easily-read position. It was at 4.5 and rising slowly--too slowly to have risen there from the high 1.something she had felt at the first shift. That would explain the sudden rising sensation.
"Remember what I said? Well forget it. Just keep conscious, I have to lighten the resistance, Yi after I perform this next AM, I need you to take the helm, head for the nearest mountain range, I’m going to be controlling the secondary weaponry, don’t worry how close you get the computer will keep us airborne and stop it from scratching the paint.” grunted Nuron, obviously feeling the increase in gravity himself. Her hands felt like lead--like three and three quarters of a hand were resting on her hand, pushing it down. Other than that, it was a few notches above a drop in an HEV onto an inhabited gas giant. Yi nodded, slowly, suppressing a wince at the energy it took to move her head like this.
Nuron spiked the gravity to 6.5, and it continued to creep up even as Yi watched. She was beginning to feel a bit light-headed, oddly enough, because her heart was having a harder time pumping blood up to her brain, so she was getting less oxygen. Again, this was par for the course--on a drop, the blood rushed up into the brain and stayed there too long, rather than returning to the lungs at the normal rate, also resulting in less oxygen to the brain. She wondered what the point of this extra gravity was.
Bringing a few other readouts and dials to a more ideal position, Yi assumed control of the helm. At first, she tried to keep the craft heading straight for the nav-point which marked their LZ, but soon found that the Seraphs wouldn't let her take a straight course. Nuron had said something about the onboard computer systems not letting a collision happen. . . so she decided to find out what he meant. A Seraph came in squarely at 12 o'clock, and she forced the trajectory to remain where it was. The Seraph did the same. "Hmmm. Feeling lucky today, are we?" She held the course, though a small warning had appeared toward a corner of the display, and made a sound like one of her hens, back on Coral. Nuron was too distracted to notice, apparently. All at once, the small warning became very large, and then the controls ceased to function for a moment as the craft literally JUMPED to the side, the effect dampened by the increased gravity. "I. . . see." Yi commented, as the Seraph was torn to pieces by both MAC gunners at once. She resolved to keep to the path in a more general way from that point on.
At that very point.. A GIANT MAN EATING SPACE LOBSTER ATTACKS! Davaran quickly jumps to the side, summoning two Fire spirits! Brute catches fire and runs around screaming.. as does three of the seven Nazgul.. Suddenly.. Bruce willis is summoned onto the field and uses his good acting abilities to lull the Giant beast to sleep.. Hooray? NO! the damn things friend..The most evil.. VILE AND MENACING of ALLLLLLL villians.. Cpt. Fun time.. Has arrived, with his Super Ionic breeze abilities to trap dust and dirt.. The world is over!!! *Covenant ship explodes* Weee!!! "Hmm.. I seem to be at a loss... mmmmmhmmmm" Reaches over and pulls his own juice box over. "This story better ... be awesome, what'd you say it was?!" the kid next to him leans over. "See spot run... Sir." Says the Private first class Kindergartener.. Sgt Sleepums looks around, pulling his teddy close, his gaze sharpens as he watches the blond woman sitting on the chair slowly pull out the book... Images of Vietnam and clifford the Big red dog Flash in his head.. Barking!! and gunfire!! CLIFFORD NOOOO!!!!!! MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!! *All heard in background is gunfire* "OH my god!! what is going on!!!!! need air support at coordinates one one three five seven -" Before he could even finish Three f-102 Delta Daggers Fly past, dropping napalm on the mongolian horsemen advancing.. The crispy chickenlegs begin dancing in his head as the Burgerking commercials come on, The new tendercrisp bacon cheddar ranch has arrived.. the KING DEMANDS YOU TO EAT THEM OR DIE!!!!
Hopefully.. Someone will actually post something story related before I think up a Second part to this..
((Hey, Final--where's Keroth? You could have him engage some enemies next to some of the other characters, and maybe they'll have to fight or something. I know Zeshi is prowling the halls, as are Tekka and Shxzalor, Kokoz the grunt, and the still-unnamed LT (who's a he, unfortunately. . .), and possibly Huon. Seems like more Covies than humans, actually. You know, I wonder how that would look to the aliens stationed on the ship. . .
Or we could just have Dav, Brute, and crew tear around the ship, grab the AI, and make it back to the Pelicans before Izual gets back from Poland, bearing a steaming hot dish of delicious pierogies. Are Elites a common site in Poland? And how did you get to Poland from orbit around Diagona? Anyway.))
Brute gunned the engine on the ghost in preparation for starting the ill-considered mission.
Shxzalor finished moving the bodies of the fallen, ally or enemy, into more organized positions. Taking his hands of the shoulders of a mutilated Honor Guard he opened his palm and looked at the blood that was covering it. Covering his armor. It was the blood of his people, the blood of his brothers. He closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders and neck dropped and he faced the ground. The hand slowly clenched into a loose fist. “What are we trying to accomplish…what could warrant such a cost…” He opened his eyes and look at the ceiling of the hangar, “What have we…what have I myself done…”
Further off Lord Tekka was standing with his shoulders crossed over his chest, swords deactivated and dual plasma rifles at his sides. His head slowly turned from one side to the other, taking everything in. He’d helped move the bodies as well, but his younger more youthful and pride filled spirit didn’t allow him to be touched as deeply as his comrade. He turned his head around to look over his shoulder; his neck bending further than a human’s could, and saw Shxzalor’s state. His feet scraped across the floor as he slowly turned around to face him, but Shxzalor moved before he could take a step forward.
Shxzalor turned to the bay doors; the energy wall was back up. He looked at the stars through the glimmering field. Walking forward almost casually, he stopped when he neared it, a deep eerie glow covering his face, casting light shadows. He reached up and placed a hand on it, rippling the surface lightly, looking past it, past the stars. Into his own little dream…but space had peace. Just like his dream. “We call ourselves a civilization…a wonderful people…”
Tekka came forward and placed his hand on Shxzalor’s shoulder, “Were not all bad.” He said, “There’s less people like us than we could hope, but one person can make a difference.” He turned to the others, “And there are the humans. Perhaps they can open a gateway to more possibilities.”
Shxzalor sighed, “I don’t think they will trust us. Look at what we did to them.”
(ok so happens i have nothing to do and im at a computer so ima post as often as possible when sum1 replies that is)
Izual came closer useing a covenent sniper rifle as a cruch and a plasma rifle in the other hand, "what other choice do we have, we are only a few trying to change mind of thousands. Tekka is right that is our only option right now is to allie with the humans, but they will not trust us so easaly as you said, so we need to devise a plan to get to one of their higher powers and convince them". Izual limped over to a plie of bodies, sighing "this endless slauter is pointless we will not hold out for ever" he limped back over to the other elites. "we need to act quickly or we will all be wiped out".
(Well, stalled is what seems to have happened. It's like a logjam. Most everyone is too busy to post or something. Final Sepharim and I are waiting for everyone else to actually post doing something OUTSIDE the hangar, and I guess it's just Izual and the Liquid-controlled Elites now. If you want I can just conjure up some random Marines and start moving them through, or the ghost/tank could start tearing around and heading toward the bridge rather than coming in as the cavalry to save someone's butt. On the Warhawk, Silent said there's not much she can do except shoot stuff, so there's not much point in posting until it lands. And that means that since FG 725 has absented himself, Atkins is in neutral gear, and Nola_One has to land it, since he wants to do some fancy stuff in the air before it gets down.)
An alarm was going off, and the LT came awake, groggily. "Five more minutes, Mom!" mumbled a Marine next to him. Then the LT came fully awake. He wasn't in his bunk on the Razor's Kiss. He was somewhere . . . purple. Somewhere within a Covenant vessel. An Elite spoke: "It is working, Lord Tekka. The humans do not seem to be able to tolerate the levels of carbon dioxide that we can. They are now resuming consciousness with these new settings." Shxzalor stepped away from what was apparently the atmospheric control panel of the . . . life pod they currently inhabited. With that realization, the memories started to return.
Moving out from the carnage at the docking bay. Prowling through quiet, desolate halls and damaged walkways, presumably toward the bridge in the center of the vessel. An ambush; Hunters, and many others. The humans and heretic Elites had waged a fighting retreat, surprisingly taking no losses, but dealing out very few in return. Enemies overrunning the hastily-erected defenses, time after time, each time they made a stand, until they were near the hull of the ship. Backing through corridors which became increasingly narrow; suddenly only one way was not blocked. The Hunters charging, humans retreating, the Elites taking one down, the other backing away. Then, a shortness of breath, a dizziness, shouting among the Elites, darkness. . .
Tekka was speaking to him. "Lieutenant? Are you well? Are your men well?" Looking around, the LT saw that the Marines were all animated, in various stages of wakefulness, but none seemed the worse for the wear. "Yes, Lord Tekka, we are recovering. Where are we? This is a life pod? Have we left the ship?" The Elite gestured around him. "In a manner of speaking, yes. The attack was a clever diversion to trap us. We have been herded into this life pod, which has been jettisoned from the ship, but is held nearby with a gravity tractor beam. I believe we . . . unconventional Elites are sought after, and the Master of this ship believes you humans might have useful information as well. Or perhaps you could be used to capture the Razor's Kiss. This is why they have not killed us yet."
Zeshi cut in. Drawing his sword Bloodshock, he spoke emphatically. "I will cut through the walls and free us. Nothing can withstand the might of Bloodshock!" Shxzalor made an Elite gesture of calming. "I fear you are right, Zeshi Nensan. Bloodshock could indeed rent the hull of our shelter. But it would put us in a more dire situation, for we would lose our atmosphere. Indeed, an 'explosive decompression', as the humans call it, would occur, and we would all be pulled into space. Furthermore, our captors have placed this life pod within the field of a damaged plasma cannon, so if we were to venture out of these walls, we would be killed. I have tried to communicate with those humans still on the ship, and the errant plasma is interfering with our communications, as well. Perhaps we can find a way for our communications to work, however. Does anyone have a good idea? Izual, you seem well-versed in the work which the Huragok would ordinarily perform, for you came to our aid with a Banshee not of this vessel. Or Keroth? Pilots often must repair their own spacecraft. Zeshi, did your training impart any wisdom which could aid us here? Perhaps your Marines would be able to do something to improve our situation, LT?"
Meanwhile, the misnamed "Rolling Thunder" left the hangar it had been created in. It hovered silently down the hallways, negotiating them with care; though the gravity sled and ghost had been designed for movement through the hallways of this ship, they left little clearance,and the added armor further reduced the maneuverability. This is to say that the LAAG didn't always have a full range of motion, and the walls received new scratches. Thankfully, their first engagement took place in a larger inner room where more space was available. A group of Jackals and Grunts was resting when the Rolling Thunder entered their storage bay. The Jackals, ever alert, activated their shields and opened fire. Soon the Grunts had awakened and joined them, but not before quite a few were smashed flat by the clumsy machine. Davaran and the riders on the trailer quickly overwhelmed the Jackal's shields with massed fire, while Brute sprayed their pathway with the mounted plasma cannon.
Finally, nothing was left moving. "Hoo-ah! We showed 'em, huh, Sir?" shouted Brute, elated at their victory. Just then, a cowering Grunt let out a squeak. "Please, no hurt me! Me no fight! Me like humans! Humans good air breathers! Play dead, see?" The diminutive alien flopped over and squirmed for a moment, then lay still except for a certain trembling. "Oh, no you don't," said Davaran. "You tell us what you know, and we'll let you live. Where's the Bridge on this can? And have you seen other humans?" Sitting up, the Grunt thought for a moment. "Pepez not know where bridge is. No gap on ship. But me see humans, come here, shoot. They walk backward, go that way. Please no hurt me!" Pointing to a doorway, Pepez the Grunt covered his eyes. "Looks like there's a trail of shell casings, Sir!" said LCpl Elisio. "They must have been retreating under fire. I don't see any blood, though. Any human blood, at least. Isn't that a good sign?" continued PFC Rupani. "Well, I guess we can find them on our own. I'm sure the LT knew where the bridge was. Let me try them again on the comm. Any UNSC forces in action, please report. This is Major Davaran. Are there any forces in communication range, other than the forces with the Pelicans?" Silence greeted him. "They were alive when they came through here, and they weren't hurt, so we have a chance of catching up to them. Pvt. Hawkins, secure that Grunt. We can't take him with us, but we can't let him follow us, either." Finding a piece of wire, Mike hog-tied the wriggling Grunt and left him behind some crates. As he re-mounted the tractor Ghost, a thought occurred to him. "Sir, won't they know where we went if they ask that Grunt?"
Davaran nodded. "Oh, they'll know where we went whether they ask him or not. Let's roll out and find the other group, and show those Covies what a little human ingenuity can do along the way. Follow the bouncing brass casings, Brute."