"April 3rd, 2554, UNSC earth standard time"
Rook took a blade to the arm, blood spurting out like a fountain of low pressured soda. Frowning and grimacing in pain and annoyance he turned around to fire his .45
ACP at one of the attackers who foolishly beloved that they could get the drop and a ODST-turned mercenary-turned elite trained swordsmen with a basic
understanding of bushido, and a plasma katana. A very shiny, new plasma katana. There was a reason he hated fighting insurrectionists, they were stupid, just like
the idiot who tried to fight him with a knife, speaking of, he double tapped the stupid son-of-a-bitch his .45 when he with drew his blade from his flesh... it would need
to be cleaned a bit later, that knife looked ANCIENT, compared to current UNSC issue blades. Definitely didn't cauterize the cut like his own blade would, though that
was a cruel-mercy, burned flesh scarred and healed far worse than simply slicing through it. 'God I'm an asshat' Rook paused as he looked at the poor bastered he'd
just pulled the trigger on, the three rounds he'd fired 'seven, need a mag change' he quickly realized, had all gone through his gut, condemning him to a very slow and
painful death. He truly wanted to simply put the poor man down, but he had larger priorities to tend to at the moment, like the half-a-ton revenant that was hovering
towards him in the distance. For the third time he cursed himself for playing Metal Gear Solid: Snake Eater (the 74th remake from the 21st century), because he was
convinced that his sidearm would be enough to deal with threats in this operation. Needless to say it wasn't, but he didn't bring anything else, and a basic .45 ACP
AP-EXP round would do nothing more than annoy whoever had to put a new paint job on the thing. Swapping his mag he rolled into cover when one of them, 'A
smarter one than usual' he realized, threw a grenade right by his cover. "This is gunna suck" Rook mumbled when the grenade went off two feet and a wall away.
Looking up he realized he wouldn't be able to move in time to dodge the incoming plasma round that was IN HIS FACE. And it hurt. Quite a bit. It also killed him. But
that was a minor detail. Looking into his squad view, his fellow ODST-Turned merc-turned espionage specialist, Yugito, had already made it to the objective and was
planting the C12 on the HVT object; Delta had been successful holding their own against the 30 or so that were left, though it was obvious his death had been a shock
to the green-horns. "What do they think I'm invincible? Or were they expecting me to takeout the ENTIRE hostile battle formation with an out dated 45 and a basic
combat knife?'' he mumbled to himself. "Don't feel to bad LC." he turned when he heard a familiar and welcome, if somewhat annoyed, voice to his left. Yugito was
smiling sheepishly at him, clearly ashamed she had died literally minutes from the end of the War Games. "Fire teams Alpha and Delta are pulling back to their exfil
point, and in about 5 minutes the combat-sim will end. Assuming they don't do anything stupid. If they do, they have no one to bail 'em out, and their ass is grass."
Rook snorted in amusement and turned back to the OP teams in his view. "How'd you go down?" he asked with no small trace of amusement it wasn't often Yugito, of
all people, didn't pull back if things weren't going her way in a firefight. "Misjudged the shrapnel range on the C12... sir. Was a preeetty bad way to die, hurt like hell,
getting a pipe through the eye." "Really...Guess you got pi-" "Say it and there is NO way in HELL that we go on that date after the War Games." Turning back to his
squads, he used all of his willpower not to facepalm, or was it helmet-palm, when a rookie tried to fire his rocket without clearing the backblast. Sometimes running a
small PMC had advantages, especially when it had great equipment salvaged, legally, from a UNSC blacksite. But then there were times when you watched people who
had no experience, or nerve, try to play war. He also cursed silently when the four rookies on the right flank started to blind fire at three snipers several hundred
meters away. And this was the group that made it to the preliminary inspection... Jay better wise up to the damn scopes on his right, or the rookies were goo- nope.
The rookies were on their own to get to the exfiltration point, as his second-in-command materialized nest to him in the pelicans bay they were waiting in. They shared
a deadpan glance with each other before all three of them rearmed, Rook was smart enough to pick up his MA5 this time, and grab a Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle.
"A Spartan Laser?" the lone Female of the three asked "Overkill for infantry, what the hell has you spooked in a War Game?" "The fact all the new guys took all the
Snipers and Rails, and there are enemy wraiths and snipers pinning them down." Rook huffed in exasperation when Jay walked over to the Blood tray's exit and got
the turret ready for covering fire. "Yeah I noticed that," Jay deadpanned at Rook "why are there humans using covvie equipment in the sim?" Yugito glanced at them in
surprise before Rook commented "Well we didn't specify the type of tanks for the sim's VI to give the OpFor." He really did facepalm when he saw the newest kid on
the PMC ground team check his gun jam by looking down the barrel. Yugito snorted when the BR-55 stovepiped in his hand.
These kids were gonna be the death of them, again... hopefully Alpha could rout the 20 or so innies left before they got back to their squads.
Staring blankly at the assembled Alpha and Delta, he simply couldn't keep the incredulousness out of his voice, "You had three fire teams as back-up, and not ONE of
you called for help over the radio... really. And Jackson, the fuck was that with that grenade? You threw it into a WALL! O'Brian, the hell were you doing, your the
medic, why did you fight at the front? That's asking to get sniped, and on that note the next time any of you salute me or Jay, or Yugito, I'll shoot you myself. We run it
again against an Elite PMC in a week, ready or not, so you all better get your act together, grab ammo, some food and a nap, we run it again in four hours."