#noble5

[ignusaeternum]

[ignusaeternum]

[christian-b122]

☱

Sierra-B122 Personal Log:Current Assignment: Noble TeamBegin:

When people say Spartans are BIG, most of the time they mean PHYSICALLY. And yes, Spartans ARE big physically. You don’t get succesful augmentations without an increase in size. What they DON’T get is that some Spartans have OTHER large things about them (and I DON’T mean reproductive organs, though that seems to be the common consencus amongst female soldiers of all branches of the UNSC.)Take Jorge, for example. The man is the largest Spartan I have ever seen (the the point that he is practically a walking barracade against enemy fire), and certainly one of the most combat effective. I have seen him quite litterally ERASE Jackals and Skirmishers with a single mighty step of his armored boot. He’s like a Hunter…in human form. BUT…despite this…he’s also the most KIND of the Spartans. And I mean ALL of them, IIs and IIIs combined. In the same battles that I’ve seen him slaughter Covenant soldiers without a second thought, he’s done deeds of great kindness; rescuing children from plasma-fire ignited buildings, handing out food and weapons to survivors evacuating our areas of operations, and comforting those traumatized. Jorge is big; everything ABOUT him is big…Especially his heart. I just hope that he knows when he’s done too much… 

[amator-vitam]

<//> Lifeworker Research Vessel Serial Code Br.Hp.T.T.Mss 'Hope Amongst The Black' signaling distress on all wartime emergency bands used in the Ecumene. Food supplies adequate. Water supplies adequate. Life support functioning. Is anyone alive out there? <//>

Quiet Steps Through Empty Meadows had set his distress call on a loop, broadcast in all bands he could access and in all directions for as far as he could. He had whispered quiet thanks to the Twelves Laws that the vessel he had salvaged was still in nearly perfect condition, its generator showing no signs of wear. In all probability it would function indefinitely. He sighed quietly, sitting back in his chair, letting the energy wrap that normally protected his face fall away. He cringed slightly as unfiltered air touched his skin, then took a deep breath of the recycled atmosphere within the ship. After spending so much time in stasis he wanted to taste as pure air as he could, sacrificing the level of filtration his personal armor gave him to get at it.

The tightness in his chest was overwhelming. He was finally safe, the war was over, the threat was over, but he had woken to find everyone else gone without a trace. He had no idea where they had gone, or whether they were even alive, and no one had answered his hails on any frequency. He was beginning to suspect that the reason his hails had not been answered was that there was no one to receive them in the first place. Only having mutated to his first form, Quiet Steps was still malleable enough to be able to show emotion upon his face, his pale brow furrowing and his eyes clenching shut in a mixture of frustration, anger, and misery. He did not want to be alone. In truth, he was not, his personal ancilla having lain dormant inside his armor until he himself awoke. She was active now and had been a great asset, but now Wind-Through-Leaves remained quiet, not speaking a word as her master let tears fall from his eyes.

His quiet hope that someone would find him was growing ever less likely by the moment, and Quiet Steps summoned the energy wrap over his face again with a thought, closing his eyes tight and forcing himself to drift off into sleep in the hope that things would be better when he woke up.

<//> Message repeats: Lifeworker Research Vessel Serial Code Br.Hp.T.T.Mss 'Hope Amongst The Black' signaling distress... <//>

[revocate--animos]

[:// Pursuit of Unknown //: ] / Noble-5

The desire for home had brought her here. But home, no longer existed. The planet remained, Aakron, a magnificent metropolis once lay where she sat. She could remember playing just a mile away as a Manipular, not a care in the world. But now all those memories here, were just that. Upon her entrance into the planet’s atmosphere, and the ground came into view, grief overcame her entire being.

"No more…Our home is no more…" Her long fingers dug into the control panel before her.

The small UNSC vessel—which she was unaware of it being designated a Longsword—now lay in silent wait, for more spacial exploration. Perhaps more desperate attempts to find her own kind somewhere among the stars.

Upon her landing, Softly Whispers Newfound Stars was so stricken by grief that fifty percent of her armor had simply fallen away off of her thin frame and lay in a trail leading back to the ship.

What was there for her now? The echoes of old friends and comrades long since passed began to fill her mind. Haunting her. Was she the last? She could hear desperate attempts at comfort from her Ancilla coming from her helmet yards away, but without it on his cries fell upon deaf ears.

Whisper dug her delicate fingers into the grass, her bare skin had not touched anything but the inside of her armor in over a hundred thousand years. The Forerunner bore an absurdly pale blue hue to her, hair a long trail of pastel purple ran down and coiled into the turf beneath her sorrow stricken form. She turned her eyes to the sky above, a ring of the same pastel tone lay around the outermost section of her iris, and a second ring of almost white surrounded her pupils.

Sorrow was quickly replaced by panic as Whisper caught sight of another aircraft making it’s approach to her position. Such a surge of adrenaline through her body prompted her armor to come to life by thought alone, and she was quickly on her feet and the fallen pieces snapped into their rightful positions around her figure.

The humans had found her.

[cmdrjaneshepard]

noble-5 started following you

Commander Shepard, SSV Normandy. That's not any armor that I'm familiar with. You a merc?

[ignusaeternum]

[ignusaeternum]

No Rest For Those Forsaken // Noble-5

What was downtime to a Spartan other than a colossal waste of time? Especially during a war?

It was nearly four AM, and the newest addition to the team had fallen right back into her 'Lone Wolf' title. Despite the small size of the Firebase, the female Spartan had settled herself on the ground outside, leaning against the wheel of a Warthog.

The sky was far from the dark hue that it should be at this time of night. Pockets burned orange, cities burning. She tried her best not to imagine the scene. But it was not something she had never seen before. Death and destruction barely moved her at this point. No matter what, Death was always the end. When your time came, that was it. You cannot stop Death.

She glanced up at the sky, watched as the slightest hints of space combat were carried out. Puffs of explosions. Ships destroyed. More lives lost. Fingers curled into fists in a brief show of anger. 

Control yourself.

All she could do was fight back. That was all she knew, after all. Fight back. Give Humanity that inch, those extra moments to perhaps make it through this hell.

Akemi dug her teeth into her tongue and the anger subsided quickly.

Currently, only herself, Jorge, Jun and Kat were at the base. Emile and Carter out on a mission from Holland. The details of which, she was not aware of. But having watched them depart at roughly mid-afternoon two days prior, she could only wonder what the pair's directive was.

She wanted to ask Kat, but kept her questions to herself. The other was a bit too free with her emotions, too abrasive for Akemi's comfort. And besides, the fellow Beta Company Spartan did not want to be bothered. She was too busy. Neck deep in intel.

Noble Six removed her combat knife from it's place on her chest plate as well as a stone she had obtained the year before to sharpen the blade with. At least it would be something to keep her mind occupied while she waited for something to happen. The sound of the stone dragging across the blade kept her at peace. An odd way to find solace, some would believe, but it was more than enough for her. Spartans had to find something in even the most seemingly insignificant.