Halo: The Wrath of the Faithful IC

[AceSorcerer]

OOC Thead: OPEN SIGNUPS - Halo: The Wrath of the Faithful​

Everyone knows about John-117, who is called nothing other than "Master Chief," and is universally agreed upon to be the great SPARTAN ever born. However, with new enemies and new advancements in technology there comes a greater need for our protectors to be stronger than ever before.

And as such, a new generation of SPARTANs was created.

Twenty years ago, United Nations Space Command (better known as the UNSC) began the latest and utmost dangerous of its programs: the SPARTAN-V Program. Returning to using children (as opposed to adult volunteers like the SPARTAN-IV Program had), five hundred children within the age range of five to seven years old were chosen as candidates to become fifth-generation SPARTANs. The program had the goal to become a new innovation in the world of super-soldiers, with the ultimate goal of awakening the targeted telepathic and telekinetic abilities located within the candidates' recessive genes. If they survived the activation of their recessive genes, candidates would begin the first stage of their training. When they had three years of training and had a decent level of control over telekinesis, they would be set to receive their augmentations in order to achieve the physical form that the iconic SPARTAN super-soldiers possess.

Of the five hundred candidates, fifty-two died after having their telekinetic genes activated. Furthermore, an additional twenty-seven died after their bodies rejected the augmentations. Lastly, after receiving their augmentations thirty-six of the candidates became paralyzed or crippled in various aspects, but were still judged fit for active duty in a non-combat. As a total, three hundred eighty-five candidates would go on to become SPARTANs as they moved on to the next phase of their training.

As recruit entered their tenth year of training, they were divided into various platoons based on the specialty and combat role they were determined to be best fit for. One out of every ten of the candidates, thirty-five in total, were chosen to become officers, as they were selected to be platoon commanders when their training was completed. The remaining recruits were divided into their specialized training, taking on their new training as well as the continuation of their existing training. It is at this time that each recruit was inducted into the military, given the rates of "SPARTAN Recruit (E-1)" and "SPARTAN Apprentice (E-2)," depending on their performances.

And as time went on and these new SPARTANs matured, the program began to receive massive scrutiny from some of the highest ranking officials in the Unified Earth Government and the UNSC, save for a few admirals and captains- along with Dr. Halsey herself- who were advocating the program as to prevent the project's termination, which could very well include every SPARTAN-V being put in near-permanent cryostasis.

But, in due time and due process, a harsh fate was avoided as the program was allowed to continue under the condition that all of the SPARTAN-V's be strictly monitored and managed by more experienced SPARTANs.

When the time came, the SPARTAN-Vs were deployed into the various regions of the universe. Some were placed into cryostasis for transportation to their assignments, but some of the more lethal and cunning of the brood were kept warm and awake to be put under immediate work and observation. It had been decided that the main series of observations would take place under the watch of Rear Admiral Derrick Thompson on the UNSC Maelstrom,the latest of the Infinity class warships.

The factors regarding the observation of the SPARTAN-V's called for the formating of SPARTAN-based units to be formatted differently from the traditional fireteams, which had been brought into consideration with the fact that some of the SPARTAN-V's were given warrant and commissioned officer training. As such, SPARTAN-V's were organized into proper platoons and integrated into existing companies in their respective stations. Among the senior SPARTANs who would be drafted in to manage the new, inexperienced SPARTAN-V's, most had reluctantly volunteered for the position. In this case, they would be acting as a platoon's executive officer, meant to act as a mentor and advisor to the SPARTAN-V ensigns in regards to leadership and to serve in a similar role for the entirety of the platoon until the were sufficiently capable of managing themselves.

Soon enough, the fateful day came wherein the main focus of SPARTAN-V observation, Sigil Platoon, were to assemble on the Maelstrom for the first time on Luna.

Some of these SPARTANs had trained long and hard with one another, while others would be meeting for the first time. It mattered not, for now their commanders would be observing and passing judgement almost constantly upon them, which was a test they all needed the pass through. Before introductions could be made, the full platoon of helmeted SPARTANs, intermixed with other personnel before boarding began as the captain of theMaelstrom gave the christening and speech before the maiden voyage. All payed heed to Rear Admiral Thompson as he spoke at the end of his speech in his wizened baritone.


"...Our mission, as is the mission of every serviceman who fights in the name of the liberty of all sentient beings of the galaxy, is to defend those who cannot defend themselves from the greater threats who would have every world enslaved.

"We must be warriors who fight for the just cause of freedom.

"We must be peacekeepers who ensure order among the planets.

"We must be scholars who record the events of history as it forms around us, so that posterity may look up on us in favor.

"Over the next five standard years, our responsibility will not only be as warriors, peacekeepers, and scholars, but as explorers. As phrased by the United Nations Space Command, 'the crew of the UNSC Maelstrom, as commanded by Rear Admiral Upper Half Derrick H. Thompson, is hereby entasked with the exploration of our universe beyond the Outer Colonies. They are to mark planets capable of sustaining life both with and without the aid of terraforming as well as planets and planetoids that could provide valuable resources. But, above all, the Maelstrom and her crew is hereby charged with the protection of all life, especially of citizens of the UEG and those allied with.'

"Our mission is clear, ladies and gentlemen!

"We shall persevere throughout the unknown, and in doing so we will bring about further peace and expansion for not only humankind, but advancements for all sentient species!"

This was met with excessive applause from servicemen, SPARTANs, and civilians alike as the master of ceremonies, an elder, retired admiral, took the podium in his raspy voice.

"That concludes the ceremony. All Maelstrom personnel may begin the boarding process at your designated entryways at 0930. Afterwards, First Review will begin at 1100 and will be performed by your respective battalion commanders. Godspeed and good fortune to all of you!"

 

[PSYCOsanches589]

(Time to make Intros for....4 characters....HERE WE GO! I will make them all in separate posts. The first will be for the elites)

Without missing a beat, after the speech had ended, a control tower official came over all channels. "Sir! We've got a contact slipping in! Big one!" and as he finished, what appeared to be a covenant carrier came into view from orbit. Again, a communication over all channels. ONI personnel on site seemed...unsurprised...looking upon the carrier as if it had arrived just on time. Over all channels came a deeper voice. "Hail humans! This is the carrier Blades of our Fathers! We come bearing a diplomatic figure of the homeworld Sanghelios! He is being transported in a phantom now! Do NOT fire upon the phantom!"

The voice was obviously a Sangheili and soon after he spoke, a phantom would come in to view. It was a very ornate phantom, painted gold and bearing banners with the sigils of the Swords of Sanghelios, two carried on the front and two hanging on the bottom. The phantom came to a gentle stop over a middle isle, the banners come to a rest and being much easier to see. The councilor turned to Thal'Xumanee "You first, Major." he said with a somewhat lighter tone.

Thal simply rolled his eyes a tiny bit before hopping into the gravity lift that carried him gently down. Many more humans than he expected and he was met with the looks he expected; nervousness, distrust, foreboding....and some aggression. He brandished two plasma rifles on his hips and on the inside of his right wrist was an energy sword hilt that was magnetically locked to the armor so he could drop it into his hand should he ever need it. Some whispers went around the crowd that seemed to calm some of them down, mainly some of the soldiers who eased up on their rifles. After taking a few steps, two more elites dropped behind him, minors, one who carried a plasma rifle and the other a needler on their hips, both having a spare plasma pistol. They took practiced positions closer to Thal'Xumanee in a slight triangle shape.

After they walked forward a bit, a very fancy dressed and ornate elite with large pieces of armor came down. This elite carried only an energy sword on his hip. On the front and rear of his waist were banner-like purple pieces of cloth that hung just passed his knees. His stride was different to that of the first three. He stood himself taller on purpose and walked with a more dignified stride. After him, came 2 more elites who were even more vastly different from the last four. These two didn't really have much in the way of armor on and what they did wear was very thin. Something akin more to a vest that patrolling police officer on earth would wear and they only carried plasma pistols. They were clearly far from soldiers and much more like civilians. They also wore colors that were white and light blues and something akin to long thing coats made for elites. One might think of them more like scientists and they wouldn't too far off.

After they walked a bit forward, three more elite minors would drop and take position with practiced precision. Like the first two minors, one brandished a plasma rifle and a needler with the other, both carrying plasma pistols. The one that most would see of those 3 was the last one who stood between those two carrying a T-57B Carbine with a plasma pistol. It would see the most attention as it was physically bigger, but was in no way necessarily more dangerous that the needlers or plasma rifles. The two civilian looking elites looked around at all the humans with the closest thing to nervousness or shyness any human would see from an elite as these two had never really seen humans before, let alone this many. The same was true of a few of the minor elites as they were slightly on edge themselves, especially being outnumbered by so many guns. Thal'Xumanee, on the other hand, kept his eyes forward and simply focused on getting the ornate elite to the front where the Rear Admiral was located.

When they reached the end of the isle, Thal would step to the side and allow the ornate elite to go forward up to the podium where the Rear Admiral stood. "You are the commander of this ship, I presume?" he asked, his voice not as harshly deep as the elite who came over the radios a moment ago. His voice was smoother and he spoke with a practiced charisma. The Rear Admiral could likely paint the word politician all over him. "I am Councilor Khys'Noman of Sanghelios. I presume you already know why I'm here? Or...did your superiors not inform you?"

 

[AceSorcerer]

The elder SPARTAN-IV pulled the bill of his service cap down slightly as he looked at the Elite that was clearly a politician, if nothing else. The rear admiral would sigh, looking upon the aliens with a slight twinge of annoyance at the games that the Office of Naval Intelligence tried to run. It wasn't the first time that ONI had done things like this, and he high doubted that this would be the last. Motioning for two of the marines to come onto the stage, the two-star admiral looked to the assembled group and began to speak, keeping his calm as he made a decision as to how to treat this minute insanity. "I'm aware of the reason, to some extent. I'll have these two marines here escort you to my office, and we can talk further before we begin the launch sequence and I am needed on the bridge. I will speak to you again then, Counselor. Boys, please escort them to my office by the bridge. Make sure that our esteemed guests feel comfortable until I arrive to speak with them." The UNSC marines then began to escort the group of Elites onto the Maelstrom, all the while Derrick-076 had to remember that war with the Covenant was long over, and that these individuals were now a great ally to humanity.

 

[PSYCOsanches589]

"Very well. I shall await your arrival eagerly." he left the Rear Admiral with as he began to follow the marines, the other elites all taking their practiced positions back around the councilor.

At the same time, one of the last couple pelicans arrived with the last few troops for the ship, amongst them was Corporal Morrison O'Rielly with the last group of ODSTs. They just missed the ceremony and as they looked off to the phantom that took off back toward a Sangheili carrier, it seems they missed a bit more than they should of. What were the Swords of Sanghelios doing here? Come to congratulate us and wish us good fortune on our mission? He had his cloverbomb for that!

O'Rielly approached the ship and looked up at it from his boarding ramp...she was massive.....and probably the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in all his years...he placed a hand on the side of the carrier as he spoke softly "Don't you worry none, lass. O'Rielly will take good care of ya'." Before he was pulled onto the ramp by one of his fellow ODST who told him to quit messing around. No fun, these lads...he would have to change that! He was quick to find his way around the barracks, finding his bunk, locker, and the latrine. He was also quick to go asking around where the armory was. One of them told him not to go touching everything, but he wasn't one to leave things to chance, no sir! He was there in no time looking over any equipment he could before one of the quartermaster was on his ass asking him what the hell he was doing. He then quickly hushed him by finding a slight flaw in the sight one of the battle rifles and he wasn't gonna be yelling at him about being around any time soon.

When the Elites were brought to the office, the Councilor and the two civilian elites entered the office, trying to make themselves comfortable, but human chairs weren't exactly good for them. It's a good thing another phantom would be coming with some furniture that was more appropriate for Sangheili body structures. The Sangheili security team took position outside the door and kept tabs on any and all who came near. Most of them were just curious personnel who had never seen an elite before who they brushed off or were barked at to quit standing around by other crewmen.

 

[Stryder]

One spartan would be boarding the Malestrom assigned to this massive vessel by her O.N.I handlers, official tasking had not yet been apparent to her. The soldier would have to await that briefing from both her O.N.I handlers attached to the UNSC for joint operations. The UNSC always seemed untrustworthy of the O.N.I for some reason, perhaps it was the fact that ONI had their own SPARTAN soldiers, but this was besides the point, she was here and ready to work with her SPARTAN brethren, she had chosen to keep her helmet on and not show her face, the less the UNSC truly knew the better. Heavy steps sounded as she made her way out of the crowds of soldier, looking around, looking for someone, someone in specific who should have been but wasn't, 738. The SPARTAN she had been paired with on this diplomatic joint operation, was missing in action due to unknown circumstances, but she was sure whatever it had been, it was the least of anyone's worries and likely a flight delay. The female made her way through the ship, navigating this new terrain almost as if she had been here before, silently passing by people, an inspection of her room would surely be in order, especially in this environment. Passing onto what seemed to be the living area for SPARTANs and other soldiers alike, 737 would locate her designated living quarters, thoroughly investigating her room as if she were looking for something to be wrong with it and in fact she was, a bug, an audio recording device, something that would arouse suspicion toward the UNSC. She did however notice there was an additional bed within her room, a battle buddy system by the looks of things, figures the O.N.I wouldn't be trusted to be alone.

---

A week prior
"We've received an urgent signal from Research Station Omega Centauri-VII, a research station located on the dwarf planet Iola near Mamore in the Eridanus System. They sent out an emergency broadcast stating that they were under attack, but the audio/video was corrupted when transmitted. As we're the closest vessel to the station without a slip-space jump, it is our responsibility to investigate according to protocol. I'll play what could be recovered of the video message."

It was then that an image of a scientist in a green jumpsuit and white lab coat appeared on screen, a bald individual of African descent frantically pushing the buttons as he spoke in a hurried bass.

"To all UNSC Ships, this is First Lieutenant Isaac Crane, Deputy Science Officer at research base Omega Centauri-VII on Iola... the Elite researchers here started going crazy, some of them committed suicide... It might be related to <hissing static>. Ever since Commander McNamara demanded we research that thing, odd things have been going on. I tried to destroy it, but the security systems are on high alert ever since the craziness started. A few days ago, some spacecraft was picked up on our sensors in this part of the planet, but the search parties we sent out couldn't find anything. The... oh God, they're breaking in! <hissing static followed by small arms gunfire as video feed cuts out and returns>... I-I can't hold them off for long, and we need help. T-there's a few of us left, a couple scientists, engineers, and marines. The engineers have it rigged up so we'll be safe for now. All our senior leadership is dead or missing and we can't hold our own! Please, help us!"

Present day
The empty security room would push toward a dimly lit, multi-monitor screen, showing every camera on the ship. Bloody hand prints smeared the table and chairs, crimson mist painting the walls a new color along with strewn out decorations of gore, the screen of the monitor shattered in the center, causing a constant buzz of electricity and static, adding an air of suspense and mystery of what happened on Omega Centauri. Each screen flickering to their respective camera, showing empty hallways, not occupied by the dead but, empty as if whoever been there got up and left. Smears of crimson leading to certain areas of the ship but none of the apparent source, whatever had been causing turmoil throughout the ONI research station was unseen.

Backup power was the only source on the entire dwarf planet, it had been as dark as the blackness of space itself. The gravity horror that awaited the saviors was unknown, distant screams that were much like a dying or pained animal more than that of a human being echoed through the station, providing the possibility of some type of beast or creature undocumented by the UNSC. Behind a locked bay door sat the gargantuan mass of flesh and sinew, a monster by all definition, tendrils that seemed to behave like a fungus attached to the halls and corridors, as if to form it into a hive or den of some sort. A week was all it seemed to need to kill everything, maybe less than that, the question was though, how fast could this spread?[/hr]

 

[PSYCOsanches589]

As things were alive and active around the UNSC Maelstrom as it prepared to take flight. At the same time, so were the ships of the faithful. Particularly, the one that held the Kig-Yar named Bax Goz. All members the ship were rejoicing at their discovery. They had located one of the sacred rings! It was out near the rim outside the grip of the human and Sangheili scum who held the inner parts of the galaxy. They were preparing scout groups to go down and secure landing zones for additional troops and supplies to be delivered to the ring's surface for further and more wide spread exploration.

The majority of the scouts going down aboard the liches were all forms of Kig-Yar to do the majority of the scouting while small groups of Unggoy and Sangheili stayed back on the liches and monitored their progress. Bax Goz lead one of these Kig-Yar groups. Their lich arrived above a dense jungle canopy as per the marker. Already, Bax wondered what they could possibly be looking for here...if they wanted to make anything around here a good outpost, then they would not only have to clear away much of the trees, but they would need to build a foundation for the entire base...jungle floors were horribly littered with debris and mud and who knows what else. However, he had orders and he had to go with them, as foolish as they were.

The lich found a nice hole in the upper canopy where they could effectively drop the teams. When they hit the ground, Bax could already feel how littered the ground was and felt his feet sinking into it slightly. If there were any indigenous predators on this ring, they would be able to easily track the teams, but it would also work the other way around. They set off south, branching off some to the west. He highly doubted they would find ANY suitable area and he was eager to get this over with so he could rub it in somebody's face.

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Nikolai-655, Grim, stood in full armor as he listened to the Rear Admiral deliver his speech, inspiring enough. Around Grim were many soldiers, some seemed happy to be on this mission. It was odd. An older man came on after the Rear Admiral and dismissed them all, saying they could begin boarding. Grim marched on board, once on board he attempted to find where it was he would be bunking. He walked at a slightly slower pace as he waded through the many soldiers in bustling about the ship. Marines and Naval crew alike, moving to their posts as the Maelstrom readied to embark on it's mission. He found the Spartan bunk room and removed his helmet as he found the room and bunk with his name on it. He ran one gloved hand through the short hair on the top of his head and used the other to set his helmet on his bunk. He looked about the room and was satisfied with it before stepping into the hall to look for his Platoon Commander, Leo-713.