The Rise: An Introduction

Introduction
Ship: Athena's Province
Captain: Vladislav Siyankovsky


You are a Spartan IV. You volunteered for the program after years of being in the UNSC. You may have been a Marine, and Air Force Pilot, a Navy Seaman, or an Army soldier. Your history is your own. For some, their arrival on the Athena's Province was not by choice, for others, it's just another day in the Service.

Some of you are en route to the Athena's Province, some of you are already here. To those of you who are just arriving: Welcome, and wait in the Hanger until a the leader of all the fire teams talks with you. Follow protocol, if you misbehave, you'll be sent to the brig (temporary suspension from the RP) for a set amount of time. So be on your best behavior. You're here for a reason.

The Athena's Province is an Infinity Class ship. It's huge. but you'll only see a few parts. You aren't authorized to enter most areas. Not that you'll need to, you won't have much free time. So cherish it when you do. Don't waste it exploring the Ship.

Athena's Province has an AI, Mimir, who likes to appear as a male bald severed head. He's a stickler.






Disclaimer:
Realism.
Don't like it? Tough. This is the military. You do things accordingly. Also, since these are real missions, you can die or get hurt. If you happen to die, try to do so in such a manner that it's easy for your body to be recovered and incinerated. It'd be greatly appreciated. If you get hurt, you'll be sent to the infirmary, depending on the severity of the injury, you may not be able to participate in the next mission. Remember, check your corners, stay strong, and don't fuck up. It could cost you your life, or your squads.





Enjoy:

I walked into the court room, swinging my chair round and sitting down with a bored look on my face. I raise my feet up onto the table in front of me. The ONI representatives raise their eyebrows. I smile back.

Just another day of being shunted around. I was tired of seeing the same old rooms, hearing the same old things.

"Now. You are designated Spartan IV 002, is that correct?"

I nodded to them slightly.

"You have been out of action and service for..... four years now. Is that correct?"

I nod again. They go into conference with each other for a few minutes.

"It is the decis..."

I stood up.

Look. I survived Operation:TORPEDO. I helped the Japanese hold their country during the battle of Earth. Since then. I have been shunted around between different courts from here to the Outer Colonies and back for four years. So either reinstate me, or let me go and make a life for myself. Because to be honest, it's getting real tiring sitting aboard a ship all the time.

They go back into conference, emerging again with shakes of their heads.

"It is the decision of this court that you be released and given a civilian life. You will receive all relevant documents in the next week or so."

I turn and walk out of the courtroom, kicking the chair a little bit back into place. My escort was waiting outside with another man. He gave a nod to me and walked besides us as we began to leave the building.

"You don't agree with their decision?"

Sorry, who are you?

"Someone who can give you what you want."

He brought out a file from inside of the bag he was carrying and held it out to me.

"Be at Bay F6 in fifteen minutes. Or you can go enjoy whatever life they give you."

He shrugged and walked away. I opened the file and flicked through it. Something about a ship called Athena's Province. They were gathering S-IV's up and my name was on the list. I couldn't really believe it. After all, ONI had just released me from service yet this file clearly had their name stamped across it. I bit my lip for a moment and my escort gave a little cough.

"Shall I hail us a car, Ma'am?"

I think that would be best.

234. 235. 236.

=I heard the numbers said out loud how much time I was taking. Too long and it'd be over=

240. 241. 242.

=I looked at each stick, color-coded for convenience. One of them was my salvation, the others would spell my doom=

245. 246. 247.

=Time was running out. My fingers twitched and I grabbed the red one. Red always means it's the one to take, right? I pulled on it, and out came the standard length of a UNSC standard issue drinking straw. I let out a huge sigh as the other people around me let out a big sad moan. I wasn't the one to go ask the AI where the hair cream was. Apparently, a normal Marine doing it wasn't as great as a Spartan doing it. I knew that if I did it, I'd get in a lot of trouble, and I really didn't need that. I don't even know why I joined in this game to begin with, just seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess. The straws went around again, and I just smiled and chuckled and as people got out of the prank, all the while the remaining people getting more and more tense=

"Don't touch that."

I put the device down begrudgingly, looking over the mechanics shoulder as he continued to tinker with the large panel before him.
Something about it had caught my attention, though I had no idea what. So much so, that I almost wished I knew what any of it was. All I knew was that... well, actually nothing when it came to mechanics. I'm not a repairman.

Looking around the hanger, I couldn't see much. Lot's of quiet work really. A few ships, Pelicans, Vultures, Falcons and Hornets. I scratched my exposed neck, my left hand on my waist as I let out a low sigh. I was starting to wonder why this thing was so comfortable.
Had to admit, I didn't rally feel like a Spartan just yet. I'm sure that'd change though.

A few other personnel seemed to be in the same scenario as me right now. Dressed in the black body suits, awaiting further orders.

Fun times ahead.

I pulled up to the bay about ten minutes later. I paid the car and entered. There was about twenty people in here in total. Some were obviously Spartans. The man from earlier was there. He gave me a nod and continued his conversation. I sidled over to another Spartan.

So. What is all this?

"Didn't read the file?"

I may have scanned it.

"ONI's gathering tons of S-IV's to place us on board the mysterious ship known as the Athena's Province."

Why?

"No idea."

I nodded and rocked back and forth on my feet. In truth, I was slightly jealous. I hadn't trained for four years. My body and mind were out of shape. In comparison to those around me, I felt weak. Even though I had been though worse than any of them could imagine. My escort pulled up in another car and got out with a gym bag. He came over, passing it to me.

"Everything you will need, Ma'am"

Thanks.

I give him a smile.

Take care of yourself, yeah?

He smiles back, briefly, before walking away. I give a little sigh. The man from earlier was now coming over to me.

"Not too late to change your mind."

I watch the retreating back of my escort wistfully.

"You wouldn't have ever gotten any further than business. Come. We have much to discuss."

He begins to walk and after a moment, so do I.

"The orders you received from the court earlier are dismissed. We come from a much higher branch of the Office of Naval Intelligence and I can assure you, you won't be disappointed. You will shortly board a shuttle which will take you to the ship. There are plenty of training facilities on board."

I was sure he only added that last part because of how I was looking at the others. Still, I kept quiet.

"You will be working under the command of one Vladislav Siyankovsky. You will be assigned fire teams once on board. Everything you see and do on or off the ship is classified. You will not send or receive any transmissions without authorisation and should you act out of line, you will be put into the ship's brig for a short time."

He stops in front of a shuttle and turns to me.

"I won't lie Spartan. You've got a hell of a job ahead of you."

I watch him walk away as the other Spartans begin to board the shuttle. He climbed inside of a black vehicle and for a brief second, I could be sure I caught a sight of my old teacher, Kurt. Then someone pushed me and I climbed the ramp with the others.


It wasn't a long flight. About twenty five minutes in all. We sat there in our seat, strapped and shaking from turbulence. Then the hanger light flicked green, we unstrapped and the bay door opened. I stepped out onto the Athena for the first time, my gym bag slung over my shoulder.

It was chaos, people running all over the place, organising new arrivals, supplies, weapons, cargo. It felt good. To be doing something again.

(Aegir)

Like most of the Spartan IV's, Aegir was walking around the Athena's Province in his Combat Skin, wearing pants over the lower half. He was one of the tallest Spartans aboard the Athena's Province. Standing over 7 feet tall, he was on par with an Elite. Rumors stated that he fought one mono-e-mono and won. But you know how rumors go.

He was in the Navy, prior to joining the Spartan IV's. From being in Charge of Sea-worthy Frigates to the advanced Navy Seals, he wasn't special though, plenty of the other guys were better than him. Then he joined the Spartan IV's.

The runner up for tallest Spartan aboard the Athena's Province would be Nick, an old SII. They both, Aegir and Nick, arrived on the Athena's Province _{(called the "Athena" for short by the Marines on board.)} at the same time. Yet Aegir hadn't heard him speak once. Not once. He's also spoken to directly by the Commander, Siyankovsky, or by Stone. Stone, the leader of all the Fire-Teams on the Athena's Province. A hard-ass who seldom if ever gave a compliment. He was barely 6'5" but he could pack a punch.

Aegir was sitting in the mess-hall, eating his proportioned diet, as created by Dr. NO specifically for a Spartan. He was sitting with a cousin of his, a Marine, Private First Class Nicholas. They shared the same first name, they were both named after an ancestor, in honor of them. His cousin was smart, and he had this way of talking that gave him authority on whatever he was talking about. Whether it be true or not. He also had a habit of starting every other sentence with "Well..." or "So..." Which gave Aegir the impression that his cousin was talking down to him. He wasn't, but impressions are what they are.

Note: Ægir is Old Norse for "Sea"

"systryngr," Says Nick* to Aegir, "How long until we see some action?

Note: systryngr is Old Norse for "Cousin"

"Oh, is that how you talk to your superiors?"

"Wha- no, tha-"

"Hah!" Aegir's Laugh was gruff, what some would call a manly mans' laugh. Interrupting his cousins pleading. "Relax Kiddo, I'm only pulling your strings." Aegir's cousin also has the apparent inability to pick up on jokes. Like just now, for example.

"Oh." Nick* was quiet for a bit. "Hey look, that SII is here." Aegir turns to look in the direction that Nick* was nodding. Nick 149 had entered the mess hall. He was tall, sahved bald, and had blue eyes. His combat skin showed the contours of his muscles and his estimated weight was 400 pounds give or take. Some of the Marines joked that he was "nearly half a ton of fuck you!" Aegir didn't necessarily disagree with them. But 149 was definitely not someone he'd want to fight.

Spartan II's, based on what he knew, were basically super-human. Fighting one in hand-hand combat is basically suicide. Though he'd bet money to see someone fight 149 in a ring.

It had been something like ten minutes, and the whole mood of the area, nay the entire ship, had changed.

People were rushing about, trying to move things around and clean up and so on. It was like they were expecting Hood or Osman to drop by, it was crazy. I'd been pushed around a bit myself, only a few men stopping to salute me as they realized just why I was wearing this suit.

Perhaps this meant things would be speeding up soon. Good. I began to notice a few of the other Spartans on deck, and one in particular caught my eye as she walked off of the ship that had carried her here. New blood on the Athena would be fun.
I'd been here for a good few days now, gotten to meet some of the soldiers and corpsmen on board. It was nice. And it was a hell of a lot better than a warship.

With a slight shrug, I began to make my way through and past the bustling men and women, towards one of the more laid back soldiers, who was leaning up against a Pelicans hull and talking to a few of the other men before noticing me.
"Sir! I managed to get you that gun you wanted."
It took me a moment to comprehend that statement. A fair while ago I'd asked this lad to get me a particular gun a fair while ago when he was boasting about having access to the armoury of the ship.
As he held out the nickel plated M6, I could only assume he was being honest. It was a nice gun, the M6F. Not too strong, an Officers model, but nice.

I smiled, spinning it my hand for a moment. "Well... this is nice. Brings back some old memories." The soldier smiled at me. "Sergeant, you know a lot. Maybe too much, considering. I was wondering, do you happen to know anything about what's taking place today? I mean, other than all this stuff involving es-fours, what else is going on?" The Sergeant let out a rather disappointing shrug.
"Sorry sir, no. You'd need to ask any of the officers." I nodded, and looked back into the crowds.

Adam hadn't been on the Athena's Province long. But, in the scheme of things, was one of the first UNSC personnel to be on-board. An impressive feat for the size of the relatively new ship, one that Adam took note of. Much to his dismay, however, the majority of the ship's security detail rested in the hands of the S-IVs, save for maybe a few S-IIs he was very eager to meet, who were notorious for their Superiority Complex.

Adam sat in the hanger in his combat skin, a lone cup of water in front of him whilst he watched the personnel operate in a more casual setting with such expensive hardware not even fifty yards away. If not for his job working with non-enlisted personnel rather often, he would've been bewildered by such behavior, but had gotten used to it over time and come to accept how bored mankind could get to behave so..immaturely.

It seemed to be calming down by now, the hustle and bustle. I leant against the hood of the Pelican, scratching my neck again before stretching out and closing my eyes. I'd been in a Marine training exercise last night, first one in a while.

I was able to hope I'd be fit for whatever this new day and experience held for me, I suppose.
The few other Spartans in the area were starting to settle in. All that was waiting now was whoever it was that had gathered us all here.

=the poor marine who was finally chosen to go play the prank barely managed to get anywhere close to the emitter when Mimir popped up, issuing order to everyone to clean up the ship and make it look nice for arriving personnel. Immediately, everyone started running around cleaning up, and getting everything in order. I helped where I could, and just kinda, waited. I didn't know what was going on, who was here, or where to go. So, I just waited, hanging out in the messhall with almost everyone else. Spartan's aren't all action and glamour, I learned=

=I had been on the ship for a bit, but I still hadn't gotten used to all the naval terminology constantly thrown around like a bad habit. I was army to the core, and and a over a year on this boat hadn't changed a damn thing=

Long, bitter, grinding war...I just wish I had a buddy who knew how I felt...someone ex-army, not a former squid or a jarhead like I've been forced to associate with...

=I walked around and spotted someone in the crowd, someone who had that walk that I was all too familiar with. I looked at the man--who looked about four years my senior--and gave him a wave as I headed further into the hangar. I meet up with him shortly, sitting down on a nearby ammo crate. I tap the man on the shoulder, hoping to get his attention=

Nice to see a former army man like myself...dammit, what was your name again? I'm not all that good with names, despite what people may say.

My head bobbed down as the Pelican touched down the on hangar's floor. The hatch hissed open and revealed the deck filled with personnel moving about, attending to different tasks. The soldiers I was sharing the Pelican with, along with myself, piled out of the transport unto the hangar. I wasn't wearing my combat skin, but instead I wore dark grey fatigues.

I had just gotten back from Earth, so there was no reason for me to be in combat gear. I had a black 3-day pack over one of my shoulders, filled with my personal belongings. I was told to remain in the hangar bay for further orders, by a floating head. So remain I shall.

Out of sheer habit, he scanned the room, taking note of every face he could spot. One might say he had developed a knack for such chores, given his line of work, and did so whenever he could to keep up on his skills.

Not that he could turn the instinct off. It was a reaction hard-wired into his brain from years of training, years of combat. Both domestic and alien, and as such, he no longer took chances. Some accused his well-concealed paranoia as side-effects from S-II training; the sociopathic behavior that all SPARTAN-IIs portrayed. This was no such side-effect.

He was disappointed to have yet to have seen any of the S-IIs on-board, as few as they may be. Though watching the generally disciplined behavior of some of the S-IVs gave him some hope about the new project he was a part of.

I could feel the ship slowing down as we were arriving at Athena's Province. My nerves were shaky, I didn't know what to expect when I arrived. It was weird when I had joined my Sigr squad I didn't feel this nervousness. I guess some are easier to the idea of being a Spartan, if you could call us that. I have seen the real deal before on the field and they were amazing. Their speed and strength in combat was extraordinary. But they were selected to be Spartan, while us four's are, well lets just say Oni wasn't that picky. I looked up as the Pelican stopped and waited for the doors to open. There was ten of us on the bird some looked like me, nervous, and other had their head in the game. The bright light of the interior of Athena was blinding, but that could be because of the dimly lit pelican. We started walking out one by one.

"I wonder what team I will be assigned to?"

My mind had become focused on the spartan in front of me. What he said, yeah it was on the file I was given. I too wondered what team I would be put on. I was next out.

I hope my training hasn't gotten rusty.

=I wait a few heartbeats, and turn my head, the man oblivious to me asking him a question. I probably might ask him in the briefing, that's if Mimir or the commander didn't object. I look around, and take off my helmet, running a hand through my hair. I was anxious, but nothing at levels that weren't unusual for me. I sigh, clenching and unclenching my robotic hand into a fist=

I know, nervous habit...but you know the saying about old habits...

=I then spot familiar figures. Not familiar as in seeing an old friend, but I recognized them from old ops and propaganda images from my service during the war. Spartan-2's...they were near mythological for ground-pounders like myself. What made them superior to grunts like us, I couldn't care less. I only had one brief encounter on an op with an S-2, and that was about all the battlefield experience I had working with them. What I didn't like about them was how they came about. They weren't soldiers...they were freaks with trigger fingers. The S-3's were no different. I looked at the S-2s in the hangar bay with a glare of overt loathing and contempt=

Freaks...every damn one of them...

=I mutter a choice curse under my breath=

I took my first steps out of the pelican. The change of temperature felt good with the body suit that was given.

"Welcome everybody."

We all turned our attention to where the disembodied voice was at.

"Welcome new Spartans. My name is Mirmir and I am Athena's AI. Collect your belongings and stay in the hangar bay until you are retrieved. Thank you."

And then he was gone. I picked up my bags from the ground and started to get a look at my next home.

Notes:
The Athena's Province was finished (as in they finished building her) about 8 months prior to now.
There are only two Spartan II's on board. One is currently in the mess hall eating alone.
Stone is the Spartan IV Commander, commanding all the Athena's Fireteams.
Hanger B-47 is not the same hanger as where everyone else is.

(Aegir)

Aegir watched Nick 149 sit down at a table, alone, to eat his food.

"What do you think of him?" He asked his younger cousin.

"Well, he's a Spartan II, so he's pretty cool. I don't know, haven't really talked with him." Aegir knew he wouldn't stop there, so he interrupted his train of thought with another question, "you wanted to know when you'd see combat?" He asked.

"an- yeah, I would." He said, easily distracted.

"Go ask Stone, I'm sure he'll find something for you to do." Nick was silent for a long time. His face paled a bit. He was doing it on purpose, Aegir knew, but it was funny to see none the less.

"Well kiddo," Aegir said as he finished the last few bites of his meal. "I need to go, stay out of trouble, and go mingle with your squad."

Aegir's cousin laughed quietly, with a big grin on his face. The kid was young, and terrible at bonding with his team.

(Nick)

I watched as Aegir, my older cousin left the mess hall, and then went to sit with Spartan 149, Nick. He always sat alone. I think it has something to with the training he went through, but I don't know. All the files in regards to SII's were classified. I tried digging around to find out more, but the people I ask either don't know or tell me to stop digging. I stopped, but not because they told me too, but because I ran out of sources.

Maybe I could get some information out of Nick. He would be the one source that could tell me what he went through. Well, that's the theory I had. Maybe it was traumatizing, so much so that he remembered none of it. I don't know, I only had theories.

I sat across from him, sliding my half eaten tray onto the table in front of me. He looked up briefly to look at me, then went back to eating.

"Uhh, hi."

"Hello, Private."

I forgot that I was wearing my combat dress and that my rank was displayed. His use of my rank was sudden. I half-panicked.

"uh, sorry, Master Chief." He chuckled, at my response.

"It's fine." He sounded detached.

"Could I ask you a few questions?" I asked, curiously. He looked up at me, his plate was already empty.

"About?" I couldn't quite detect what that was in his voice.

"About your trai-"

"No." He interrupted me. It must be a sensitive area. Or something.

"oh, sorry." I took a bite of my food, avoiding eye-contact. I felt awkward now. Sitting here in a situation that I created. I felt a sudden wave of deja vu.

"It's fine." he said as he got up and returned his empty tray. As soon as he did, Mimir, the ships AI, popped up.

Mimir: Nick 149, go get your armor, you've got a mission.

And like clockwork he left the mess hall. Just like clockwork.

"Hey Mimir.."

Mimir's severed head swiveled about to look at me. It was a bit unnerving. "What Private?"

I felt my cheeks turn red. Mimir laughed.

"you head that?"

"I certainly did."

"Could I-"

"No, it's classified."

"Gahhhh." I groaned.

Mimir shook his head, chuckling. "You need to report to Hanger B-47, with your squad."

"Wha- I do?" did I forget something? I don't remember being told we were doing something.

"If you had been with your squad, 'bonding' you would've known earlier."

"Oh dammit!" I said, and ran out of the mess hall."

(Risley)


Petty Officer Risley walked into the Hanger where the new arrivals had arrived.

Adam's gaze shifted to the shuttle when Shannon stepped off. Her demeanor was different than the other S-IVs scattered around the hangar. He initially wondered if she was just a scrawny S-II, but thought that was incorrect. She looked far too young for such things. Could she be a part of the supposed Class II he had heard rumors of, or maybe even one of the two S-IIIs who had survived Operation: TORPEDO? He would keep his eye on her, she was definitely an anomaly of some kind.

I had walked around for a good long time. It seemed that no one knew what they were suppose to do and just dawdled around aimlessly. I hate this, I needed something to do. It felt weird just standing around.

Is this what a Spartan four does?

"Hey did you see her?"

"Yeah, she has to be an original Spartan. Too defined."

So it is true there are 2's and 3's here. Wonder who they are talking about?

"HAHA yeah I'll define her..."

I walked away from what seemed to be a stupid conversation. I continued my venture around the hangar. I came up some marine who were obviously looking at someone that got their attention. I turned my eyes to where they were looming at. I saw a strongly figured woman who was laying down.

She has to be the one they are talking about.

It's funny how people are. Even when they are Spartan the basic instinct to stray away from the unknown, or in this case fearful, makes them look immature. But on the other hand all they have known before is of their abilities and unless you have fought alongside one, it's hard to stand in their presence. So what the heck hopefully she has some idea of what's going on. I walked next to her and cleared my throat.

Greetings, My name is Koda. I was wondering if you had any insight of the situation here.

I open one of my eyes and turn my head, catching a few groups around the hangar looking away quickly. I fix my gaze on the one who had spoken to me.

You probably know more than I do.

I close my eye again and turn my head back up to the ceiling.

I see..

I walked around some of the boxes that were lying around and sat down.

You seem like you don't want to be here. I mean that most people have mingled with others and you sit here. What the story behind that?

I don't fit with anyone here.

I left it at that. It was true. Marines, ODST's, Troopers. Even a S-II or two. That's who was here. But no S-III's. No-one who would understand.

I looked around. It seemed that everyone was here since there were no Pelicans coming in.

Well that's not true. There is always a place to fit in. You just don't want to look for it. Mrs. Gloomy.

I stood up and stretched my legs.

Look most of us here and pups straight from the mother's teet. They may have seen some action but nothing like you might have seen. And that isn't a reason to not mingle. *sigh* Nevermind just have a good rest of your day. Peace.

I left her side in search of god knows what.

I make my way to the closest wall in the hangar, then throw my pack to the ground. I crouched next to it, then rummaged through it a second, and pulled out a small packet of gum. Getting tobacco or alcohol was a chore when you're a super soldier. People are always eyeing you, making sure you're not doing anything you're not supposed to. So gum suffices when tension is high. Like right now, for instance. Nobody really seems to know exactly why they were here, so there was probably some crazy mission or whatever.

I pop a piece in my mouth and start to chew it. I lean my back against the wall and watch the other soldiers in the hangar.

I could see someone not too far away, leaning on a wall and chewing gum. I wasn't quite sure if he was just a soldier or a Spartan. He had a Spartan build, I noticed, but he was dressed in very typical attire.
I pushed off of the Pelican, and headed over to the soldier, smiling.

"Hey." I spun the pistol in my hand, smiling.

=A thought occured to me, that I should probably go see what the big fuss was about. That meant going to the hanger bay. I set off, putting on a slight jogging pace, and jumping up once in a while to lightly tap a spot on the ceiling. Up, down, jog, up, down, jog. The routine was good, comfortable, let me know I was okay and in perfect condition. Things like this are good ways to know if you are alive and kicking and nothing is wrong with you. Wiggle your toes, flex your fingers, exhale. Wiggle your toes, flex your fingers, exhale. Routines always meant something good=

=I looked at the female Spartan, glaring at her with contempt. The only reason I hated her kind: that they were created and existed. I made it now surprise that I hated the S-2's and S-3's. I muttered a choice insult in German, just as the man who met her came within earshot of me=

(German) Damn trigger-happy freak job, and that's all she'll be.

=I look to the other two, the man I met earlier and a new guy fresh on the boat. I looked at the guy with the one eye I had left, the man obviously a ground-pounder like myself=

I watched the other spartan approach me, twirling his pistol as he did. I'd hope it wasn't loaded, even if it was, I doubt it would go off. But, I was just a little paranoid about firearms. Crazy, I know. My job practically revolved around them, but I had a very strict rule; only draw if necessary, or on a mission. I tilted my head to the side, slightly.

"Hi."

I looked at the man a moment, not seeing any visible rank.

"Don't suppose you're the leader of the fire teams?"

"Leader? Jeez, I wish... a fools dream, I suppose. No, I'm just a corpsman really. I'm a Chief Petty Officer, but nothing beyond that."
I halted my motion for a moment, and clenched my hand into a fist, just barely getting a grip on the pistol and going to holster it before realizing these suits lacked such things. Jeez.

"I'm sure when the commander is on deck, they'll make their presence known. Or someone else will, you know how soldiers are."

I nodded my head, agreeing with the other Spartan.

"I sure do... I'm Tyrese, by the way."

I held my hand out, offering it to shake.

"Gum?"

=I smile, knowing I was in that position as well. What the CO's knew was beyond us lesser mortals. I sit on the crate for a few more seconds, then get up off of the crate, hearing the servos in my arm whir faintly. After what I went through during the war, I was still surprised my hearing wasn't completely shot. That, and that my spine hasn't been compressed after all those drops either. I went over to the other two S-IV's, naval personnel having looks of awe and pity, spotting my injuries instantly=

The war took a lot from me...I'm just lucky to be alive...

=I stroll over to the other two, listening for anyone willing to make a wisecrack about my condition=

As time "flew" by I was thinking about my old team and the experiences we had together. I remembered when Conner, Sigr squads leader, had told me that I would take over as leader of Sigr. The covenant was over and with the conflict ending so was their spirit and energy. Most of Sigr had a long service in the fight while I had joined them at the very end. I had not been through what they had. They were done with the fighting, pushing their bodies to their limits. I could tell in their eyes that they were done. When the war ended we split and in the end there was only three of us out of the eight. It was time for me to lead but my attentions where elsewhere. About two months into our leave I hear about the SPIV program. Feeling I could do more as a Spartan I left...*sigh* I wonder what Maxwell and June are up to. I was starting to space out when I heard a commotion. It seemed that the long wait was starting to agitate the children. There was a big group huddled out of the way yelling and shouting. I walked up for a better view. They were sparing against each other in hopes of passing time and of course to see who was the better fighter.

(Risley)

Ensign Risley, an officer in the Marines, was assigned to gather the new spartans. He didn't particularly like being sent on errand work, but didn't complain. He was 6' flat, brown haired, brown eyed, and dark skinned. He looked around the Hanger for the Spartans, who had decided to make his job just a bit more difficult in being spread about the hanger. He sighed.

"Mimir, tell the spartans to meet in the center of the Hanger, please."

Mimir to all Spartans: "Please report to the center of the Hanger."

The fighting had stopped abruptly. It was amusing to watch while it lasted. I picked up my bags and headed to the center of the hanger.

=I sigh, turning around abruptly at the announcement. Whatever this was, this was probably significant. I then head to the center of the hangar, my mind wondering on what the announcement was for=

This ought to be good..

=I let my curiosity stray a bit, but keep my thoughts to myself as I made my way there=

=the announcement was little more than what I was already doing. As I exited the door I hopped, spun and tapped the wall just above the door frame, keeping up my speed as I turned back around. I saw a group of other Spartans, and kept up until I got near them, then I slowed down. I gestured friendly-like=
Well, hey there. I'm Lyle.

=some of them were new, they still had their bags in hand, but I wasn't going to point that out. Didn't want to embarrass them. I did however, stick my hand out for a handshake, trying to be friendly and welcoming=

Adam arose silently from his seat, crushing the disposable cup in-hand before tossing it in the trash can and making his way for the entity in the middle of the hangar. He thought it odd that the person in-question said "please" as opposed to giving an order, and deduced it to being intimidated by the Spartans, or maybe not even having the authority to give order. He stood behind Mark, arms folded in an almost condescending manner as he awaited for the officer to continue.

I denied the offer, smiling and holding a hand out in a flat palm.
"No thank you. I don't chew."

I looked over at the center of the hangar as people began to flock, some carrying their bags with them. I groaned, and shrugged, looking back down at the soldier offering me gum.
"I'm Jack, by the way." I said as I began to walk towards the center of the bay.

=I make it to the center of the hangar, finding a spot to stand. I feel my adrenaline spike briefly, acknowledging that someone was behind me. I turn my head and notice that someone was indeed behind me, and I keep my contempt in check, the figure unmistakably that of an S-2. My eyes narrow briefly, and I try to hide the irritation in my voice=

Try and warn a fellow soldier when you're sneaking up on him next time, Spartan.

=I give him a look that said he really didn't scare me all that much anyways=

Adam frowned slightly at the man. He didn't consider himself "sneaking up" on the S-IV. "We're not in a combat scenario, Son. Cool your fuckin' jets." He looked at the lapels of his fatigues to the Petty Officer Second Class on either side, and smirked, "And watch your mouth next time you're talking to a CPO, Spartan."

Normally, Adam would've played a similar scenario much differently. But Mark needed to be put in his place sooner or later for tossing dirty looks around.

=I narrow my eyes, unfazed by the remark. So...he was pulling rank, eh? Not like that daunted me earlier in my career. Of course, navy tended be a little more formal than the army. I played along with him=

I'll keep that in mind next time, sir

=I let the sarcasm roll of my tongue, restraining my anger=

Two can play at that game...

=I turn my head around, smiling at the thought=

Adam did not respond to Mark's comeback. Whether he was too annoyed to respond or it just didn't phase him was unclear given the expression on Adam's face was completely blank. He looked forward, awaiting further response from the officer who had called the assembly.

=it didn't look like anyone noticed me, so I slowly dropped my arm and just waited. I kept my smile up, still trying to be friendly, but now just waiting for the others to do their part. I looked around, at the hanger and the group of Spartans, just for the sake of looking and trying to get maybe a hint of what to do next=

(Risley)

"Well, now that you're all here." ...and that there's some time to spare... "Alright, Rank and file! line up!"