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Brendan stripped down to his off-duty gear, plain white t-shirt and some khaki pants. Headed back to his dorm, the corporal poured himself a couple fingers of scotch and popped in a vid. Relaxing, he sat in a half-prone position, decompressing. He'd head to the mess hall later, but for now, but he just spent three days cooped up in a small ship with them. He needed some alone time now.
Well, not often you see an Albatross around. Particularly for a pirate ship. Brendan murmured as he walked towards the Major. I saw you guys fly in. For a trained pilot, I can't really say that it was your best performance there Major, maybe you should let the autopilot take over next time there. The corporal said sardonically as he stepped into line beside the Spartan and the pilot.
"Aye-Aye, Chief." the Corporal bounded up to a port hole, trying to get a good look at the pirate ship as it flew away. Brendan wracked his head as he tried to figure out what type of ship it was from the profile and his time with the ODST. "It's about twice as large as us- about half the size of the Harbinger. I'm surprised they didn't just blast us out of the sky once they retreated though. Not complaining though, just means that they either don't have weapons, or don't want to use them for some reason."
Coming out of cover, Brendan fired his shotgun at Charlotte's target
Hearing the sound of Jackals, Brendan stealthily peeked over the side, then readied his shotgun for a firefight.
Brendan will hide behind a crate that's 30 feet away from the expected entry point.
The boards should be fine.
Brendan pulled out a pack of cards. Poker anyone? the corporal asked the group, pulling out the jokers and shuffling the deck, "I mean, it's not like we have much else to do here." The sniper put the shuffled deck on the ground, grabbing an apple, cutting it in two and checking the interior before beginning to eat it.
Routine: Eat, sleep, exercise, cards/talk with other team members, tune up his gear, explore the nooks and crannies of the ship, looking for chokepoints, and getting a general layout of the ship.
I'm thinking Mark Wahlburg would be a suitable voice for my character.
Turning off his comm, Brendan looked at the rest of the group. "Anyone want to explain to me how the f*** he managed to make it to major? Last time I pulled something even close to that I was almost thrown out for insubordinance."
I'm ready whenever anyone else is.
"Sir, I'm ready. As for how I got here? Well, the brass doesn't like me much. I keep getting told that if I turn the snark down I'd probably get promotions, but I never do, so they keep me at corporal. Honestly, I don't know if I could handle that much responsibility." Brendan shrugged his shoulders uneasily, Anyway, the brass thought that this team could use a sniper and I made the short list. Throw in a letter of recommendation from my captain- I'm sure he was ecstatic to be rid of me- and here I am." Brendan looked at the SPARTAN standing over him, noting the uneasiness in the large man. "If you're looking for a way to relax, try basic awareness meditation. It's what I do every time before a drop, a trick I learned from my old swim coach back in high school. Just breathe in and out evenly, one second inhale, and a long exhale, keep your arms circling, once you get into a pattern, close your eyes, be aware of where your hands are, where your feet are, what your entire body is doing. Keep breathing. Keep it even, just in and out, in and out, and keep your arms circling. Clear your mind, put away the stress and worry, keep calm"
"Ooh-rah" Brendan said in response to Ram'Dain as the Sang'heili left the ship. "Well, at least we won't be smashing into the ground with this rust-bucket because of an auto-pilot failure. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid, just I'd rather die during a drop rather than a damned crash-landing."
Sir! Brendan snapped off a salute then headed into the Gorgon, sitting along the wall silently. Looking down at his weapon, he started to breathe in and out in a controlled fashion, as he started to become more aware of his surroundings.
Shortly after tuning up Bex, he grabbed a shotgun and a few magazines for it. Guiltily looking at the sniper rifle, he sighed "Sorry Bex, but your use will be limited for this run, next time, I promise." Heading back to his quarters, he fell into a restful sleep shortly after he stripped off his armor, his light snoring filling the room.
No, 105th ODST are basically total badasses, hardened by battle. They're not genetically/chemically enhanced like SPARTANs are- the SPARTAN program has a stupid high mortality rate. Basically the ODST (Orbital Drop Ship Troopers) do exactly that, they hop into pods and let gravity take them towards the ground. They hit the ground then start killing as they kick out of their drop pods. The SPARTANs are enhanced soldiers in Mjolnir armor. They typically are the insertion fighters, though there have been cases of SPARTANs going on ODST ops. ODSTs were long before the SPARTAN program existed. But the two are basically the most elite forces in the UNSC.
"Aye sir, I have general combat training. I'm just better at sniping is all. I'll be ready for anything that you want me for. For now, I'm gonna tune up Bex here. Brendan jerked his hand back, pointing his thumb towards his sniper rifle. "I'll be in the armoury if you need me." The marine stood up and headed out the door, habitually running his hand over his shaved head as he left.
"Sir, I'm probably the best damn sniper on this ship, maybe in the marines." Brendan said in an honest tone, without any bragging in his voice, "That being said, fighting on ship means tight quarters, which means that my skillset would be a detriment for you on this mission. I'd probably be better suited doing int-ops here. However, if you want me on the forward op, I probably fill a role similar to Miss Smug over there." the Canadian continued, nodding towards the SPARTAN in the red and black armor.
"Yes, Sir!" Brendan said as he rigidly stood at attention, hand snapping in a tight salute. A sniper rifle hung loosely at his back, it's stock and grip a little worn, as if it had seen quite a bit of duty. At his side was a pistol for a side arm. His armor seems to be similar to that of Elwood's, though it seems lighter- designed more for mobility and long range combat. Pirates? This could be interesting.
Corporal Brendan Traynor of Hull, Canada, Earth reporting in sir. It's an honor to be fighting alongside the SPARTANs sir. Mais, avons-nous vraiment besoin de ces élites damnés de faire cela? Also, I have my backstory up. |
