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originally posted in:The New Dojo
5/11/2017 12:56:41 AM
36
[b]Something Manly and Impulsive...[/b]
[i]Dojoville, ???[/i]
Lieutenant Mark Render stumbled down the beaten path, his combat boots kicking dirt and gravel with every step, as he slowly made his way towards the city walls. After Gonzo had seen the city from the mountaintop, they'd decided to make camp inside of the D77-HTCI's hold, and wait out the ruthless blizzard. The snow had polished his armor, once more honing the battle-worn suit to the keen pinnacle of combat that it had once been.
It had been two days since they had departed, and still they hadn't yet fully descended the mountain. Their rebreathers had prevented them from oxygen toxicity, but their heavy packs had issued a large toll upon their legs. They were beaten, exhausted, and tortured by their cruel surroundings. Even sleep offered no respite. Render was still plagued by his memories of New Mombasa: vivid flashes in the night; still ambiance broken by staccato gunfire; the alien shrieks of Jiralhanae echoing throughout the concrete jungle. Hell had been emptied on that day, and its demons had walked upon Earth. It was fitting, therefore, that the Helljumpers would make New Mombasa their crucible.
They were now a hundred meters away from the Dojo's gate. Render gazed up at it, but exhaustion stifled his curiosity. He withdrew his M6/SOCOM from its holster, set down his rucksack, and cautiously advanced towards the wall. Gonzo and Smith covered his back from the tree-line, where they were scouting the area with their UAV drones.
[spoiler]Open to all, but we need access to enter the Dojo. Keep in mind that they are straight from the Halo universe, and have no idea what to expect on the inside, so don't treat this too casually. [/spoiler]
English
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"Yo, boss-man, I can't see shit. Something's wrong with my drone." Smith said "I'm just gonna grab my -blam!-in rifle and hope I can still hit something."
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"If you lot are looking for trouble, I assure you you'll find it here." A young man, face with etchings of tiredness and stress, was casually walking towards the group, almost as if he saw this sight daily. He put on a badly disguised forced smile. "But if you're looking for hospitality, it's also fine. As long as you don't look at anyone who looks big funny."
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The gates opened to reveal.... A spartan. "Identify yourselves." He ordered, his MA5C held ready. His armor, a sleeker looking MJOLNIR MK V/B was painted almost all grey with a single pale blue stripe on his arm. He sported an ONI symbol where his Spartan tag would be.
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Another ODST raised his BR55 rifle, the scope gleaming in the light. "William Smith, ODST......-blam!-'s a spook doing here?"
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"My ship went down not far from here. I was not aware of any other UNSC forces present on this world." He seemed to glare at them through the visor, though his voice was completely emotionless. Exactly what they'd expect from a Spartan.
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He sighed "Look, all due respect, shove it. We just spent the last 24 hours fighting covvies on New Mombasa, we don't need any crap from you."
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"You have no idea where you are." The Spartan decided as he watched them.
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"One moment we're hauling ass from the city, the next we ended up here." He said, summing up their experiences. While many others looked up to spartans, an ONI tag spelled trouble. His arms and knife handle were drenched in a dried orange blood, telling the spartan of the ODST's troubles
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"Then I'm guessing you know this isn't Earth by now?" The Spartan ignored their disrespect, them being helljumpers. They could make out more detail now as he approached them. His armor was in better shape than theirs, but not by much. Several scratches and burns decorated the power suite. "What unit are you?"
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"Does it matter? We're the only three that made it out as far as we can tell"
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"Do you have any long ranged communications equipment?"
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"we lost contact with the B-net after we ended up here."
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The Spartan sighed. "The same happened to me, save I was on a frigate when it happened."
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"Lucky. Of course, I'm guessing your name and everything else is classified and is under a layer of black ink."
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"More or less. Senior Chief Petty Officer Sierra-011 of the UNSC [i]Harpy.[/i]" His voice had a very slight twang of regret, as though he wished he could share more.
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"Hmph. Sergeant William Smith, Helljumpers" He said, tiredly and with the voice of a soldier who had just finished a tour in hell
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"You and your men should get some rest, sergeant. That place up there..." He gestured at the dojo. "Is best left alone until you're ready for action again. I can lead you to the [i]Harpy's[/i] wreck. You'll find food, shelter, and rest there."
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"Hmph. if you wanna talk to someone, you should talk to him" he said, pointing to the ODST holding the magnum "He's the boss right now."
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The Spartan glanced at the leader questioningly. "Well?"
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Render turned from his conversation with Enforcer Steel briefly, his visor quickly polarizing to disguise his face in darkness. He still held the M6/SOCOM in his hand, but he had it casually facing the ground. "We were planning on taking refuge within the village, but the UNSC tech from the wreckage might be able to supplement the gear that we brought with us. If there's anything up at the crash site that we can use, I'll go with you."
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"Only a few dozen of the crew survived, but there is a good deal of supplies in the wreck. I'll lead you there." The Spartan attached his assault rifle to it's magnetic locks on his back and turned to leave, gesturing them to follow.
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Render gestured for Smith to carry his discarded rucksack into the Dojo, and then followed the Spartan. He was quiet initially, with the occasional flash of blue from within his visor being the only disturbance. Finally. out of nowhere, he asks, "So, what happened to your crew?"
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"Half of them died over Reach, most of the wrest died when we crashed." If their deaths bothered him, it didn't show in either his voice or body movement. "We've been here for a while now."
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"Well what? You're supposed to be the super soldier here."
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"I was asking if you were up for the hike. It's eleven klicks from here." As usual, the spartan showed no emotion through his armor or body language.
