Helljumper425

Soto continued walking, hoping that the AI didn't have the luxury of base-wide projection capabilities. She didn't have anything against AIs in general, but she knew how to listen to gut feelings over non-officer commands. "I figured I'd take first watch," she said, glancing once over her shoulder. As she did, she noticed another presence, male definitely, possibly a Spartan based on physique. She dismissed it. "It couldn't hurt," she said, looking forward as she continued onward.

Ashley patrolled the perimeter of Firebase Charlie. It was a good thing she had taken that jog earlier, grown accustommed to the details. She knew what was normal what was out of place now, though thankfully her watch yielded no ill results...until she reached the sections that were damaged by the blast...or whatever that was. Blood still stained the ground, and MPs and Marine personnel were closing off the zone. She kept on walking, swaying in a relaxed pace as she cradled her battle rifle. Nothing good came of this place, she had decided.

Soto pried her helmet off the moment she stepped into the barracks, setting it atop her locker before peeling away at her bracers. "Rest up?" she said aloud, hoping to catch someone's attention. "After what just happened, the solution is 'Rest up?' Are you kidding?" She was about to pull the bracer on her right forearm off when when she hesitated with a thought. Shaking her head, she locked it back in place and grabbed her helmet again. "Screw it. I'm staying on watch tonight," she said, pushing her way back to the door.

Ashley's ears were ringing, lungs fighting to draw air back in as she coughed and gagged. Rolling over she managed to find her BR55. It was covered in dirt, just like her armor, smoke still billowing from the side that faced the sight of the alleged blast. Her eyes were adjusting to a dynamic color splotch, a sunspot from the bright flash. As she staggered to her feet, she shook her head of the disorientation as she struggled with her rifle, fighting to keep it level as she scanned the courtyard. Her VISR optics were rebooting. Clearly the blast was strong enough to rattle her suit's systems. As her hearing slowly returned, all she could discern was the sound of her own rugged breathing. All around were casualties, Marine, ODST and she could've sworn there was at least one Spartan somewhere. As Corpsmen and Medics started to round up the wounded, or whatever was left of them, she marched out, now noting the sharp pain in her shoulder, and covered their efforts to triage. "This is," she paused to let out a rough, raspy cough. "This is Soto...anyone...someone...What the f*** just happened?"

[Jesus Christ, don't bite my ******* head off. I read through the last three pages. I didn't want it to seem like Soto knew EVERYTHING when she arrived.] Soto stuck with her position, amplifying the Marine's line of fire until the courtyard was mostly cleared. Just then the air filled with a thunderous bang as a rail driver shoved a round right into this new class of Promethean. She cursed under her breath as she shook her head. Railguns, Gauss tech, and especially MACs tended to leave her ears popping. Another voice came over the comm. [i'm just copy/pasting what was previously said, not controlling.] "Marines, it seems we have some new arrivals. Do not fire on them unless they do first. Also, a hole has been made in its armour. It is possible a well placed grenade or rocket could take it down." Ashley hunched down behind cover. "Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically, though with her comm offline. "I'd totally love to take my chances on foot against an ancient alien behemoth." "Hey," a Marine said, patting an Jackhammer rocket launcher cradled in his arms. "I've got AT (Anti-Tank)." With a nod, she got back on comms. "Everyone, covering fire on three...two...one. Light 'em up!" She stood above cover and opened fire on the tank, giving it something else to look at as the Marine bolted to the right, going wide in its blindspot before crouching low, readying the launcher, and sending two HEAT rounds into its opening.

With little option but to follow the voices in her head, Ashley sprinted to the courtyard, grinding her boots against the ground as she came to a halt alongside a fireteam of Marines. She thumbed her fire selector to "Full Auto" and opened fire on the nearest Knight. "Combine fire!" she yelled over the clamour of weapons clattering away in the once silent air. At once, five streams of tracers seemed to cross and focus on the lone target. It didn't last longer than a moment at that point. Once the Promethean Battlewagon was eliminated, she dropped her magazine, slapping a fresh batch of 9.5x40mm Armor Piercing into the bullpup stock. It was around then that she saw a swarm of Crawlers skittering their way in. She controlled her shots this time, popping off semi-auto fire in their direction. They were fast, almost too fast to manage a killshot, but she got lucky once or twice. Once that threat was taken care of, she swiveled her head around, searching for this "Titan." [Forgive my ignorance, but what the hell is a "Titan?" I kinda failed to find it anywhere in the Halo lore.]

Ashley's eyes went plate-sized when she made it into the armory to see about seven retreating Marines opening fire on what she could only describe as a hulking, alien robot. Its body was like a titanium crabshell covered in a layer of hardlight shielding. The creschendo of 7.62mm rounds bounced off of it, pinging harmlessly for a moment until it finally gave way and popped. Soto immediately grabbed for a stack of BR55 magazines, but by the time she slapped one home, thumbing the charging handle forward with a solid click, the Knight was already dissipating into a bright orange glow. "Jesus Christ!" she yelled, sweeping left to right to make sure none others were arriving. "I've got wounded!" one Marine shouted. Without a second thought, Soto joined the man as he tore an individual first aid kit from his thigh and broke out a can of biofoam. "I've got two critical! Where's the damn corpsman?!" Some of the Marines were still reloading, others checking corners out of shock and confusion. In the midst of it all was a white armored Mariner with red shoulder guards. Ashley stabbed a finger in his direction. "You! We need you here!" The man snapped out of his haze and rushed forward. "Y-yeah. I got him, you go ahead." With that, Soto grabbed the rest of her gear and headed out of the armory. "This is Lance Corporal Soto," she said on open comms, "Where do you need me?"

Soto snapped to, right-facing and bolting back down the hall to the barracks as soon as the call came through. "So much for that," she said to herself as she squeezed in through the hustle of Marines and ODSTs coming and going. She clasped her armor in place, locking tabs and seals down with a series of clicks and snaps before fitting her helmet on, giving it a light smack. She then secured her rifle, yanking back the charging handle to make sure the chamber was clear. She was totally dry; not a single round was floating around in her pockets. She would have to grab ammunition from the armory with everyone else on the way out after whatever assembly had been called to the barracks.

[Done. Like I said, it just seemed like the Admiral was saying based on how you formatted your post.]

Ashley jogged in steady stride for War Games, Sector 4. Officially she wasn't qualified to run any of the tests, but it didn't hurt to observe the games from a safe distance. She had stopped to clean herself up, showering off and donning a fresh set of jet-black fatigues. She watched everything from the interaction between Ty and Cortez to the mess that was the entirety of the simulation. She shook her head as she watched Jenkins get tagged, which again seemed to fall solely on Ty's behavior but at the same time Jenkins just... The Lance Corporal let out a sigh as she tried to find the right words for it. It was shameful that a CO would even condone that "cry home to daddy" kind of mentality. Luck had it she'd probably get fitted into his squad too. Suddenly Anton's voice came out over the comm. "Alright soldiers. That was a good match. Be prepared, you guys will be out up against Jacob in the next one: a SPARTAN II. Report to sector 4 in an hour." Her brow furrowed. Soldiers versus Spartans? she mused. It might've made from an interesting fight from her perspective had she been in the simulation, but she couldn't find much practicality for running a Spartan through a sim against Marines, or even ODSTs. CTF, on the other hand might test both sides; straining a Spartan's guarding capabilities while testing the Marine squads for their team mentality. She hoped they'd have a strong squad lead... [Oops. My bad. It's just the way you wrote it made it look like the Admiral was speaking.]

[Thanks for the catch. Also, "abandoned?" I gotta ask, did you mean that personnel are now groundside? Because to me "abandoned" implies that it's no longer safe aboard that ship and thus ALL crew had to leave. Even on ops, they would leave at least a skeleton crew behind. It might just be me misreading it, but doesn't matter.]

Ashley had heard most of the exchange, cringing at the superior's raised voice, grateful that she wasn't in the Private's position. The ODST getting the chewing of his day was most definitely at fault. North and south...two totally opposite things...but in space? She shook her head, rubbing the scar on her right shoulder in thought. As soon as this Cortez was out of sight, she managed to follow up with the Private...no, Sergeant, jogging beside him and matching his pace. "First day onboard and you're already getting your *** in the fire, huh?" she joked. Following along, she held out a hand. "Lance Corporal Soto, 105th Shock Division, 7th Battalion."

Being on standby was the worst experience for any grunt; ODSTs, Marines, Spartans or otherwise, no one liked waiting for anything. So when the call came through to stand down, Terminal Lance Corporal Ashley Soto had been more than disappointed--she had been teased. She had to put her armor away while she was still wired for a fight, which wasn't a good feeling, and afterward she couldn't think of anything else but burning off her adrenaline. War Games wasn't exactly a kosher zone for ODSTs, and she lacked clearance for any of the regular simulations on Requiem's facilities, so she settled for an energy draining jog around the compound. She was gunning for her third time around when she had to stop for a breather near the motorpool, just a stone's throw from the armory., sweat subtly drenching her tank top, matting her hair. Her sweatpants were starting to come undone at the ankles where she had tyed some parachord to keep from tripping over them. As she knelt down to retie the makeshift laces, she noted the coming and going of dropships from the viewport. New personnel likely, well newer than her anyway. She had arrived only two days ago and found nothing but boredom. She hadn't even been assigned to a squad yet. If anything explained the constant presence of a datapad on her person, it was awaiting word of official assignment. "Any day now," she muttered between exhausted breaths.