#sgttaggart

[unsc-ai-kurosawa]

Improper Qu- Processing - Sgt-Taggart

Kurosawa was quiet for a heartbeat, clearly an indulgence to the man standing in the doorway, implying that it took him more than a few nanoseconds to come to a decision. "Good afternoon, Sergeant," The AI nodded to the IV. "Revisiting your roots?"

[codename-nathaniel-blog]

Out On A Snipe Hunt - Fireteam Reaper Vs. Codename: Nathaniel

So far, so good. It was relatively easy, really, blending in amongst the engineering crews. They were good people, but so focused on their work that no one really bothered to question him. He'd have his choice of ships, and no one would be any the wiser. Easy as one, two, three... Unless Sterling or Toadstool caught onto the game.

[codename-nathaniel-blog]

Going to Ground - A Prelude To A Grand Chase

New face. 

New eye color. 

New spoofed identity, paperwork.

Overnight, he'd gone from himself to another soldier who didn't exist. A member of Engineering, hence his placement on the lower decks of the Infinity, and his proximity to the myriad vessels in her drop bays. It gave him the excuses needed to board one of them, to render him all but invisible to those who would try to sweep for him while he healed up, planned his next move, and made preparations to eliminate the duo entirely. 

Yurei had seemed concerned about him, when last they'd spoken, but he'd pushed it out of his thoughts entirely. Between his single-minded dedication to vengeance and the polypseudomorphine doses he kept popping to try and dull the pain both physical and emotional, to say he wasn't in the best frame of mind was an understatement.

Nathaniel surveyed himself in the mirror a final time, adjusting the engineering jumpsuit he wore one last time before he tucked  the final few additions to his personal kit away close at hand. 

Three Adrenaline hyposyringes.

Two Stimpacks.

A Rumbledrug dose. 

And a loaded M6H with two additional clips, all carefully stowed in the numerous pockets and folds of the engineering jumpsuit in lieu of the usual tools. Knowing one's environment was, after all, the first step to becoming a ghost.

He stepped out of the maintenance storage room that he'd been using as one of several impromptu shelters over the past few days, once the realization that Sterling and Toadstool must have been searching for him occurred to him, seamlessly blending in with the first group of engineers that he encountered en route to a shift. And when their supervisor confronted him, he rendered a snappy salute and in an eager, cheerful, youthful voice proclaimed: 

"Sir! Petty Officer Third Class David Hartford, sir! Newly transferred to the Infinity's engineering corps!" 

It was a shit job, but a necessary evil. Survival was far more important than pride, lesson two of becoming a ghost.