Oros mission start

[sixth]

WHO: ALPHA TEAM (Carolina, Maine, Wash, K-2SO, April, and Sam) and BETA TEAM (Lee, Somba, Hayatori, Cassian, and Re-L)
WHERE: Oros
WHEN: January 11-???
WHAT: Alpha and Beta teams begin their mission.
WARNINGS: TBD

Catch-all mingle log while Alpha and Beta travel together. Toss up a header for a specific day or event to keep things better organized and then everyone can tag around in that.

(Once we figure out when the sandstorm and fall into the gorge happens to split everyone up, we can add that too to close out the big group log.)

Comments

[rumbling]

[ He knows Wash is there before he even knocks against him. Not from the motion trackers on his HUD, but he just knows. That comes with having been in really tough shit together. That comes from trust. That Maine has that again is... something. He remembers he and Wash working as a unit when they were all calling him the Meta. Some things just never die, apparently.

Maine makes a noise of acknowledgement, but not much else. He glances behind them toward the camp where people are in various states of milling about or sleeping ( or pretending to... ) and just internally sighs. While he might be used to carrying the weight of a team, he doesn't really feel all that charitably toward any of them. Besides Wash and Carolina. He'll do what he needs to do to keep them alive, but everything else...

Well, it kind of doesn't matter to him. If it comes down to it, he's positive the three of them can get in that base and get out without anyone else helping along the way. Not like they haven't done it before. Maybe that obnoxious woman in the pink, too. Need someone to pick the locks.

His attention shifts to Wash and though the look he's giving can't be seen, he knows that Wash knows. Still, he shakes his head before facing back out from the camp again. Someone's probably going to die on this trip. After a few passing silent moments Maine makes a low, rumbly noise; Can you believe these shitty weapons? ]

[sixth]

[ If someone dies, it isn't going to be Maine. Wash has already decided that and God help the galaxy that tries to take him away again. He's lost him too many times. It won't happen again. Anyone else, Wash will do his damnedest to save, but if a choice has to be made, it's going to come out in Maine's favor.

And Wash has made his peace with that.

But he's trying to approach the mission with optimism. That isn't easy. He hasn't had much in the way of optimism for a long fucking time. But lately, a teeny tiny bit of it has been creeping back into him. Carolina and Maine are here. Alive. It's possible things might be different this time around. ]

No. [ Frowning, Wash looks toward their nearest teammate and the weapon in question. The quartermasters in the UNSC would be mortified to outfit the troops with this shit. ] You'd think they'd arm us better if they're dropping us into hostile territory. I had better guns during the war and equipment was getting scarce in my end of the quadrant.

[rumbling]

[ One thing he does miss is crazy weaponry at his hands. If not from the UNSC but the arsenal from the Covenant. He misses his brute shot. These weapons just feel so... so primative. Not the he means to be a weapon snob, but really. These are horrible and they should feel bad. How could a alleged battleship not be better stocked? It makes Maine wonder if something is going on and not only are they walking in blind here, but... Something. This might turn into a really bad disaster.

Really bad.

Idleness itches under Maine's skin and he needs to move. He tips his head toward the east side, the intention it's time to walk the perimeter. He starts, knowing Wash will follow.

What do you think?

Because now that they're down here and have gotten a view and feel for the planet, he wants to know Wash's thoughts on it. Maybe offer something to the team leads if necessary. ]

[sixth]

[ Recognizing the meaning of the gesture, Wash sets off, matching his stride to Maine's. He eyes the terrain as he walks, wary and ill at ease.

There's nothing out there, but that doesn't mean it's empty. They've been told that it isn't. There's a reason for that. ]

I think we're unprepared. I think there's probably more to what's going on than we're being told and I'd like to what that is and why it's being withheld. [ Maybe that's post-Freelancer paranoia, but he doubts it. ] I think we can handle it. [ We being the Freelancers. ] But I don't think it's going to be an easy op.

[rumbling]

[ Digging back in his memories—the ones he tried to keep safe and protected from Sigma—he can remember Wash being optimistic. He remembers when he was much more relaxed. He remembers so much. He can't fucking stand how things have changed and how much Freelancer has fucked them all up. Maine looks at Wash out of the corner of his eye, already filling in the lines of his face instead of his helmet.

They were all different people in the beginning.

Maine doesn't say anything right away, instead just keeps walking and staring straight in front of them. This is like the calm before the storm. Things are going to be fucked up soon, he can just feel it. Without even realizing it until he's consciously thinking about it, Maine is grinding his teeth together to the point he's getting an ache in his jaw. He has no right to say it, no right to think it, but things have already begun to change between them here. So, it winds up coming out anyway in a low, rolling grumble.

Don't do anything stupid.

Which just really means: Promise you'll stay safe. ]

[sixth]

[ Now there's a sentiment he's heard before. The sound has changed, become a growl instead of words, but the tone's one that Wash has heard so many times. It makes him laugh, a short, breathless kind of huff that's both rueful and amused.

It takes him back to days that were strangely more carefree, even though they happened amidst a war against extinction. Funny thing, that. Once, he'd never been able to imagine anything more fucked up than aliens trying to wipe humanity out. ]

Yeah. I'll do my best.

[ It's slightly sarcastic, but there's a note of something else in there too. Because Wash can read the layers of Maine's meaning and he knows there's more to what he's telling him than that. Casually, like it's nothing more than a consequence of stepping around a large rock, Wash's elbow knocks into Maine's.

You too, that contact means. We come back together or not at all. ]

[rumbling]

[ This could harken back to the days of old. The night before leaving on a mission when they're all twisted up with anticipation that sleep doesn't really come and there is the nervous energy that keeps them moving. He remembers it, remembers that feeling of the unknown. It's strange how that's a bit of a comfort.

He glances over at Wash when he feels his elbow connect, but doesn't say anything yet. Maine isn't worried. Not about this. He doesn't think about dying. He doesn't think about much of anything that he should be thinking about. He's only thinking about things he shouldn't be. Good and bad. He doesn't give ground to the space to form between them again and instead stops and stops Wash from going further. Just for a moment.

A hand cups around the back of Wash's head as Maine leans down to meet him. His visor knocks lightly against Wash's helmet and he stays like that for only a few passing seconds in a shadow of old camaraderie. He doesn't say anything and pulls away quick enough. They'll be fine. Maine drops that hand to Wash's back and guides him in a turn to head back toward the camp. Even though he said nothing, he knows that Wash likely already knows that Maine will make sure Wash and Carolina make it back. He's not too concerned about himself.

They'll be fine. It'll all be fine. ]