[color=598527]"...and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."[/color]

Voss stood up from his kneeling position at the end of his bed, in the standard issue room that most Spartans received as part of their position. It was still something he wasn't used to, remembering bunking with his buddies in the ODSTs, and generally found it was far too quiet for his own comfort typically. A glance at the digital clock confirmed that, as usual, he had wrapped up his morning routine around 0630, which meant others were still just waking up. Walking over to his desk, he checked the noted events on the digital calendar, and the lack of deviations was rather infuriating, really. While he wasn't as gung ho or loud as his peers, it didn't change the fact that it got old waiting. Oh sure, the busy work was there, but after awhile, the busy work didn't do the job of keeping someone's mind occupied. Pinching the bridge of his nose briefly, he went about showering and getting dressed in the typical attire issued to Spartans when not in their armor.

Owing to the fact he routinely skipped breakfast, it gave him time for his other pursuit outside soldering. Sitting at his desk, he resumed working on the latest treatise on modern architectural practices compared to those employed by humanity past, as well as those encountered among alien species. He was attending a college program that he kept up with between involved missions, the college in question catering specifically to UNSC combat personnel and their sometimes unique needs due to deployments and the like. Sure, he didn't expect to get out of the UNSC in any way except a coffin, doubly so now that he was a Spartan, but it didn't feel right to just sit on his ass and not keep preparing for the potential future. He had a good hour before he had to report for live fire exercises. If memory served, today was in longer range weapons, not his preference, but he didn't have the luxary of being able to specialize anymore. He'd gotten better than he ever had been as an ODST with long range weapons, but compared to most marksman in the Spartan branch? Not winning any ribbons for marksmanship, that was certain.

Around 0745, as Voss was saving and securing his computer, came a sharp series of knocks at his quarter's door. Odd, he wasn't late for anything, nor was he expecting anyone to come by and make sure he didn't lose track of time for another five minutes at least. Answering the door, he was faced with a woman, likely mid fourties, holding a data-pad, and his instincts promptly told him this was likely an ONI spook. He'd kept in touch with the ODST forces on the station, and they had told him, quietly, the spooks were up to something, that they were getting tasked with more unusual missions than usual from the ONI lot. Voss didn't like ONI, despite playing a similar game of secrecy as he did, but was obligated to work with them as much as any Spartan was. [color=ed1c24]"Spartan Voss."[/color]

The ONI spook's curt greeting got a brisk nod in return, and the data-pad was promptly handed over to the former ODST as he read over what little details were on it. Get in his armor, report to Docking Bay [A1-33] for a mission on board the Infinity Class Super-carrier Solares, and follow orders from there. Not a lot of information to work with, and as typical of the spooks, it wasn't likely he was going to pry any information from the woman as he handed the data-pad back. [color=598527]"Understood."[/color] Whether or not the woman was expecting more of a response or not from the Spartan was unknown, but he stepped passed her and locked the door to his quarters, sealing it and heading off towards the armory. He didn't like the lack of information right now, but if he was getting tasked, that meant odds were that things were about to get noisy for the poor sods on board the Solares. It certainly was better than sitting around on some space station, doing the same thing day in and day out though, so he couldn't readily complain there.

Sure enough, his armor was on stand by when Voss arrived at the armory, a Gen 2 Ricochet model. He got a lot of looks for that choice, considering someone would think a man as involved with demolition as Voss would have wanted something sturdier. But he much preferred the lack of interference the Ricochet offered in terms of maneuverability and weight, offering a rather nice balance between weight and protection. Covered vitals, didn't restrict range of motion, and at a relatively light weight for a Gen 2. He had initially worked in the ODST inspired Helljumper variant, but quickly ditched it in favor of the Ricochet once he got his eyes on it's specs. Suiting up in record time, another perk, he was off towards [A1-33]. The sight of a fully armored Spartan moving at a brisk pace caught some attention, but at the speed his walk was carrying him, no one had time to question him or otherwise say a word otherwise.

Upon arrival, he saw a pair of ONI operatives as well as two Spartans that had arrived before him. The first, a female based off stance and armor fit, was utilizing the Argus variant. Good recon set up, far as he read on the variant, and more information gathering capabilities was never unwelcome. The other Spartan, male, was wearing a Warrior variant of the Gen 2 armor. Pervasive, wide spread in use, and for good reason, given its improvements in most fields of use. He had also been introducing himself upon Voss' arrival, Adam. Either the female Spartan had already introduced herself, or had yet to respond to the introduction given. Either way, it would be fitting for an introduction to be made, since it was likely he would be working with them on this secret mission dumped on them by ONI. [color=598527]"Weiland Voss, a pleasure."[/color]