Turn 1: The Voyage

[Cartwright]

The U.S.S. Normandy, a Conquerer Class Carrier vessel, silently drifted through space. Its crew of 800 moved about hurriedly, all performing their tedious and monotious daily tasks. However, its Marine detachment stood calm on board the vessel. Gossip had been going around about their new operation. It had appeared that some trouble had been stirred up on the distance outer-rim colony of Draconis, a backwater colony that not too many heard of or even cared to know of.

The planets' main resource was steel and copper. It was a heavy supplier of these materials, which were needed on other worlds and to build better homes on developing worlds. The Space Marine Corps had paid little interest to the colony; however, as it needed little protection at its distance. The star system in which it was located in was sparsely occupied and piracy was not of the norm here.

Why the colony had sent out a distress signal, no one knew. It could have been for a number of reasons. Though, it had been confirmed there were no indigneous lifeforms on the planet. Perhaps an uprising had begun or some new psycho terrorist group had been formed, speaking out against the United Earth Government with forceful acts against the colony's local established government. Whatever the reasons, it had cost the SMC one ship already. Six platoons of Marines were being prepared for deployment, most noteably, the Hell Hounds.

The Hell Hounds had an esteemed and colorful reputation in the war against the Strogg. When the war broke out on Earth, they were one of the first to react to the enemy occupation of the planet. They had even had the pleasure of working with Rhino Squad. The most senior of this group and the only remaining initial member from the Strogg invasion of Earth was Second Lieutenant John Rico. He had entered OCS prior to the war's beginning and had just been assigned to the unit as platoon commander when the fighting started. He was the only surviving original member. These new men had not had the displeasure of fighting the Strogg on Earth, though a few had prior combat experience.

The Platoon Commander watched as the Marines of the platoon filed into the briefing room. He smiled up at them, though he really wanted to curse outwardly at this mission. It did not feel right to him. The only really interesting and distinguishable feature of the lieutenant was a scar on his left cheek. It ran from his left ear down to his chin. He had encountered a Strogg back on Earth with a sharp energy sword weapon.

As the men sat down, the lieutenant typed in several commands into the console. A holographic image of the planet appeared. The U.S.S. Hoover could be seen orbiting the planet, unmoving. It appeared to be dead in the water, so to speak.

"Listen up, Marines. It appears we have lost contact with the colony world of Draconis, a major supplier of steel and copper," the lieutenant said, observing the men before him, "intel on this op is scarce so we'll be staying frosty on this one. At approximately 0700 Tuesday morning, a distress call was sent out to the nearest military vessel within the system. The U.S.S. Hoover responded and alerted command. That was exactly four days ago."

"Contact with the Hoover has been lost. We are unaware of its operational status and unaware of the colony's status. As I said, intel is scarce and we have no idea what we will be facing. Prepare yourselves for a battle, though. Just in case."

"Our first objective will be to investigate the U.S.S. Hoover and access the situation with the crew. Once done, we will beam a message back to the Normandy and begin our operation on the planet. All six platoons will deploy down to the planet. This operation has been dubbed Operation Sweeping Fury until further notice."

The lieutenant watched as a general walked in. Everyone stood at rigid attention and saluted.

"At ease, men." The general said, leaning up against one of the railings in the small room.

"Men, I want to inform you that we have received a distress beacon from the Hoover. It appears the size of the crew has been shortened to around twenty people and they say there has been hostile contact. The message was too garbled to understand with whom they fought. You'll be going in with full combat gear. Good luck ladies and gentlemen, you may prepare for the operation. You have an hour before your deployment. Move."

The men of the platoon filed out of the briefing room and entered the locker rooms. They would get their gear on and prepare for the battle up ahead.

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[Shadow]

Nick had a grin on as he listened in the briefing room it only grew as he learned more. Though what they could tell him really wasn't anything seeing as they didn't even know what the enemy was. The thought of getting back into battle though got his adrenaline rushing again.

He followed out after the rest of his group and moved swiftly to his locker. The green-colored armor with the Hell Hound squad symbol on the shoulders fit him perfectly as the parts clicked into place. He didn't use a helmet normally though it was probably extremely stupid of him, and so he didn't use it now. After making sure his armor was secure the armory was his next destination, his soldiers simply moved out of his way. They knew the young seargant wanted blood and getting in his way while he was like this was probably the worst idea while you could have while on a ship with him.

[Cartwright]

Lieutenant Rico walked up his locker and opened it. He sighed as this was the same montony he had to deal with before every mission. It was boring having to wait for the operation to begin and he just wanted to be on the drop-ship now. Though, they needed time to prepare of course. The briefing in his opinion, was the only really interesting he was able to do before an operation. One of the many perks of being a lieutenant.

Rico pulled out his BDU jacket and put it on, buttoning up the jacket until it was secured. He then pulled out segments of his armor and slowly began putting it on, securing each piece onto his body. He pulled the helmet out and grinned, dusting it off. He would not put it on until they were in the drop-ship. He closed the locker door and headed to the armory, hoping to get some weapons. He felt naked without his rifle in hand. Must have been because of how many times he held a rifle in his hand.

"Your hands never forget the feel of the rifle." Rico recalled the famous quote from Jarhead in his head.

This was going to be an interesting op, though he did not particularly like it. Something felt wrong about it. There were too many unknowns. He watched as Sergeant Hayek walked by, heading towards the armory. He smiled, knowing the man was ready for battle at any given moment.

'Same 'ol Shadow.' He thought in his head.

((OOC: Jarhead: A nickname for Marines. Some believe it was derived from the High and Tight haircut of the Marines, which some comment make their heads look similiar to a Mason Jar. Others believe it was derived from World War II when the Mason Jar Company stopped making their jars in order to produce helmets for the Marines exclusively.))

[Matt]

The Corporal, as before any mission, sits down and calms himself, trying to not get to excited or nervous. Though he is a Corporal, Matt Meyen has been in numerous battles and is hardened as of the other leathernecks in the squad. He puts on his BDU'S and then his armour. he then pulls out a little booklet out of his locker and puts it in his mag drop pouch in his vest. Its his booklet of all the kills he has gotten in his carrer with the Marines. Decribing the situation, time, and how he killed. Its usually what a sniper does to record his past kills to improve on, but Meyen does it anyways. It helps him to improve on what hes done wrong. He feels no regrett of making this booklet. Meyen then walks to the armoury to get his beloved rifle and the ammo and magazines it uses.

[Cartwright]

The Marines are met by their fellow platoon mates, Private Stone and PFC Parker in the armory. The two young Marines hand out the weapons to the platoon and hand everyone their respective ammo. Corporal Dunn being a demolitionist, was given a pack of Detonator Charges just in case they were needed. Also to compliment his armament, he was given a shotgun and a assault rifle.

Sergeant Hayek picked out his trustworthy assault rifle, knowing which one to pick due to the etched letters enscribed into the metal of the weapon proclaiming "Shadow" as the owner. He grinned evilly, reminiscing back to when he had etched in the letters of his nickname. Shaking off his memories, he walked off and began organizing the platoon for the lieutenant.

Corporal Meyen was given an assault rifle to compliment his armament. Once everyone was armed with their respective standard issue weaponry, the men lined up by squads in platoon formation for the lieutenant. Sergeant Hayek at the helm of the formation, standing rigidly at attention. Inside, he was anxious to enter the warzones ahead and fight, but he did not show it on his facial features. It could only be seen when you looked into his cold eyes. The anxiety and adrenaline was definitely becoming an issue with him. He was hoping to get on board the drop-ship as soon as possible. The group had little more than thirty minutes left until deployment.

Fifteen of those thirty minutes was spent conducting an inspection of everyone's gear and armor. Nodding with a pleased expression plastered upon his features, Lieutenant Rico informed the men to fall out of formation. They had time to talk for awhile while he spoke to Warrant Officer Banks and Chief Warrant Officer Crowe. The hangar bay filled with the voices of these young men, all eager to get into the fight.

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[-=Cpl Sam Dunn=-]

Corporal Dunn looked around as he packed his Demo Charges into his pack, a slight grin on his young face. He checked that his Shotgun and AR were both in good condition, and nodded, satisfied. He felt ready for this mission. As ready as he'd ever be, anyway.

His squadmate, Stone, on the other hand, probably didn't know what ready was. He was bragging to Parker about how he was going to kick some alien ass. Dunn shook his head, wondering how the kid had gotten past Basic Training. Of course, Stone was older than Dunn was, and Dunn hadn't seen combat either, but at least he had his head screwed on properly.

Besides, he still was skilled enough to make Corporal.

[Cartwright]

"Dunn, I hope you're ready for your first mission." Lieutenant Rico said, smiling at the young Marine.

Rico had seen men like him. Skilled and intelligent and would work their way up the ranks quickly even without any combat experience under their belt. His prior training in the Australian Cadet Corps and their special forces was an added bonus that allowed him to be promoted to lance corporal. He was recently promoted to corporal and after reviewing his service record, had requested his transfer.

Corporal Dunn was definitely an exceptional man and would do well. The lieutenant had to shake his head at his squadmate, Stone. The man thought he was the toughest boot in the whole galaxy and loved to brag. Most people like that did not make it past the airlock before freezing up and getting themselves killed, or worse, their squad killed.

"Yeah, man, I'm going to kick the asses of whatever has taken out that colony. You don't mess with me! I am the ultimate badass!" Stone droned on and on with the same cockiness.

Rico shook his head and glanced over at Shadow. The man had an exceptional service record and had seen more combat than half the platoon put together. He was an expert marksman and skilled at reconnaissance and scouting. The man could be serious at times and dangerous at others. Something he liked about the man. He definitely thought highly of this man and his performance.

[Shadow]

Nick still had that fiendish grin on his face and to get the Marines moving a bit more decided to light the fire... "MOVE YOUR ASSES HELL HOUNDS! ON THE DROP SHIP NOW!!!" He couldn't help but laugh as the last few near sprinted onto the ship. He followed the on and strapped in. "When we hit the ground remember that we are a 'team' not a group of free-lance heroes. You run ahead without a command if I accidentally find a way to hit you without killing you, that's your fault. And for all you FNGs about to see real battle for the first time... You freeze up you go back to the ship, you disobey an order and with the lieutenant's permission, I break your legs. Now, any questions?" It sounded like the seargant had said this before... I wonder happened to the last group...

[Cartwright]

The lieutenant boarded the drop-ship alongside the pilots. The two pilots entered the cockpit and made their final preparations. The hangar bay doors below opened slowly and the drop-ship descended into the vacuum of space. The thrusters powered up and the ship began moving through the depths of space, the sheer force of the vehicle making everyone inside shake. They were on their way to the U.S.S. Hoover to investigate it. Operation Sweeping Fury had begun.

"Alright, thank you sergeant. Instilling to tradition, I will be the first one off the drop-ship followed by Hayek. Second Squad will secure the hangar while first squad moves deeper into the ship and investigates what had happened." Rico said, grinning at his men, "Oorah Devil Dogs, let's do this!"

((OOC: Devil Dogs: A nickname for Marines derived from the battle of Belleau Wood during WWI where the Germans rated the Marines of stormtrooper quality and had so dubbed them 'Tuefel Hunden' which translates into Devil Dogs.))

[Shadow]

Shadow closed his eyes listening to the humming of the actually roaring engines, the recruits were talking to one another most bragging about how they're going to kick ass and what not. He was wondering what they'd encounter on the ship, he wasn't afraid at all the Core made sure it's marines didn't feel that emotion. But the thought of a new enemy made his blood start rushing, no matter what he'd be getting one of the first kills... Or finding a way to blow the ship straight to the grand abyss we all call Hell.

[Cartwright]

Private Stone felt that the ride to the U.S.S. Hoover would be a long and boring one. He wanted to get into the action and fight. It was his dream to become a Marine and it had been granted to him. He would prove himself to be one of the ultimate members of the squad with heroism and his sheer will to survive. He nodded at the sergeant when he had told them to work as a team. He would definitely stay frosty until the ship had been thoroughly searched and confirmed to be secure.

Stone felt the urge to spout out more of his personal motivational words, his cockiness a trait he had taken to a long time ago. Being cocky had gotten him places in life because he had always been the bigger dude. The man who could take on big guys and he knew this would be a piece of cake operation for him. All the horror stories about the Strogg and fighting them did not phase him, as he did not believe they were as tough as they had been made out to be.

'Just another method to spook the boots' He thought, smiling to himself.

He was technically a boot himself, with no prior combat experience. But he had seen the destruction the monostrosities dubbed the Strogg could do. However, he had never seen a full-on fight against one. So, he believed they would be fairly easy to kill, especially in close-quarters combat. It was another SMC vessel, their own turf. This would be a milk run to say the least.

"Man, I am gonna kick some serious ass! How 'bout you, Sarge?! You ready to get it on?!" Stone inquired, grinning at his platoon sergeant.

He had personally felt the man took his job too seriously and had some serious emotional issues. He had wondered what he had seen that had turned him into such a prick. Though, he had definitely seen more combat than most of the squad and had acquired more kills under his belt than anyone in the platoon could dream of achieving without spending a full twenty years in the Corps. Though, the man could do with lightening up a little.

Stone glanced at his squadmates, many of them looked fresh. He wondered about his squad leader, Corporal Dunn. He looked like a geek to him. Pure science fiction nerd. Probably collected Star Trek action figures in his personal quarters. He chuckled at the thought of it.

"Dunn, is it? You gonna kick ass today or sit back to read some Sci-Fi mumbo jumbo?" He asked, breaking out in laughter.

It was fun taunting those above him. As long as he did not take it too far. They were Marines, after all.

((OOC: Boot: A derogatory term for a Junior Marine or recruit.))

[Mr. Death]

Lance Corporal Elias Godchild, A.K.A. "Nightengale" finished smoking his joint before he boarded the drop ship. The drug helped calm his nerves.
Another day of saving and dying he thought to himself

-Current time---

He held his shotgun in hand. Betty, he liked to call it. If his name was Nightengale, why not name his weapon Nurse Betty? He laughed everytime he thought of it, and most other soldiers laughed too. But it wasn't the hearty laugh that people use after a good joke. It was a nervous laugh, trying to make him feel more comfortable. A lot of the soldiers were intimidated by him, especially the fresh recruits. He had an infamous legacy about him. Always the only survivor, never able to die with his platoon. Some of the vets were comfortable with him though, mainly because they knew his medical expertise, he was one of the best after all. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall of the drop ship. He didn't use a helmet, or the heavy armor. He had a breast plate and his BDU fatigues, nothing else. He didn't want em. The faster he died, the better. He doubted it would happen though.

"The question isn't if he's going to kick some ass today, Stone" Nightengale said
"The real question is. . .Are any of you gonna survive to kick ass tomorrow?" He laughed an exhausted laugh. He was tired of putting that morphine into another comrade, he was tired of almost saving someone, almost keeping them alive, he was tired of almost dying, almost not getting away.

He and Sergeant "Shadow" Hayek made eye contact. He and the Sergeant weren't always on the best terms, mostly because Hayek was the strict, rule book guy who killed everything, and Nightengale was the relaxed, rebellious, if not mature, guy who saved lives. They were two different people, but they had been forced to work together. Both of them had a lot of experience, and had spilled the same blood together a long time, a lot longer than almost anyone in the squad. For some reason Shadow seemed to be the only one who survived around him.
"Sergeant" He said, and winked with his good eye and held his arms out as if taking in the environment
"Bullets and shells, morphine and body bags, load another mag and blow em to hell, oohrah SERGEANT I got me another frag!" He laughed a grave laugh, a laugh that the rookies didn't settle with. He was numb now. Always around the killing. These people were his family, but what do you do when your families continue to die and you don't? Well you become like Nightengale. . .

[Shadow]

Hayek gave a grin and cocked his rifle, "I'll try to limit the casualties for you, though I doubt we'll face anything more than some pirates around this place.. If anything, asking if I'm gonna kick ass is like asking if the sun will rise. It always does and I always do." The Sergeant could be a little... Light, at times but you'd have to read his report or see the small shoulder cam. footage on his trek into the strogg infested ship... Neither of which were something one would like to ever see. "I've got strange feeling about this one though... Pirates or not, not only is one of our ships down but also an entire colony..." He didn't sound very concerned most likely just trying to creep out the boots. "How many of y'all have actually been in a fight with a strogg?"

[Mr. Death]

Nightengale laughed and blew cigarette smoke into the face of Stone and raised his eyebrow of his good eye.
"They're just kids Hayek, give em a break. . .We'll see who has the guts to keep on this bloody team by the end of the day hm?" He looked at Stone. Inside his heart dropped. He would be one of em, he could already feel it. He had developed a gift for that, he supposed. He could tell who would die in his platoon. Stone, he had all the traits. Another young gun wanting to get his cherry popped in war.
"As for pirates? This is a little more drastic. . .Half the fucking ship is gone, and the other half is trapped? You gotta realize these are well trained soldiers sir. We can't go in pants down asses in the wind and expect to wave the victory flag. These boots aint shit right now, still virgins! Buncha Suicide Suits the fuck bunch of ya! See if I save your asses when you try to be a hero, because let me tell you," His one good eye looking at all the fresh recruits, their attention on the seasoned medic
"That Strogg gets you" he clamped his three fingered hand on his right forearm to emphasize, then shook his head
"That's it. . .I can't promise a band-aid and a lollipop after that." A lot of the boots looked pretty worrisome now, especially when the Medic was talking like this. And regardless if the boots knew him or not, the veterans did, and they all knew that Elias "Nightengale" Godchild knew his shit

[Cartwright]

"That's quite enough, Nightengale. You're scaring the boots'." Rico said, shaking his head at the man.

Rico had some time to base an opinion on the man after seeing his service record. He had always been in the platoons' doomed for destruction. Well, he was lucky to be in the Hell Hounds. The best platoon in this sector of the galaxy. They had needed a medic and he was there for them to pick. The parts he disliked about him were his lack of wearing armor and the way he wore his BDUs. He also needed a new set of BDUs as the ones who currently carried did not fit properly. This was the Marine Corps, not a gang. Nevertheless, he was a valuable asset to the squad.

"Lance Corporal, since you're our resident Corpsman on this mission, you'll sit back with second squad." Rico said, before turning to Meyen.

"That puts him under your command, Meyen. Take good care of him, got it?" Rico informed Meyen.

He was going to make sure this operation went without a hitch. They were all Marines and they would come back, dead or alive.

((OOC: You're a lance corporal, man. I pick your ranks and the only reason why people are getting ranks currently as they sign up is because we need people for the platoon. We already have a sergeant. You'll have to gain your rank as time goes by.))