[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/383674146426454019/630458448420798513/Nik.png[/img]

[b][i]UNSC Celestian, Armory[/i][/b][/center]
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[color=green][i]Helljumper, Helljumper, where you been.[/i][/color]

Into more fights like this than most.

Looking casual at the next best thing to seven feet, clad in the sublayer of the most expensive armor known to humankind, cradling a rifle so small it looks like a toy isn't easy. Nik managed it somehow, his practiced motions looking almost languid as he meticulously inspected his weapon. Every moving part, every point of failure, down to checking that the ammo counter would function correctly. Not that he needed it, his HUD kept track. Not that he needed that, either. If you weren't keeping count you needed more training. The MA5K was quick and easy, the Magnum took half a thought. He could have field stripped and reassembled his old SOCOM with his eyes closed, but the M6H2 just wasn't that familiar yet. He'd resisted swapping over for an age and a half. It kicks, he used to argue. The SOCOM had an integrated suppressor [i]and[/i] brake, it didn't move a hair when you fired. Made the next shot right on target. You could compensate, sure, but why bother? What good is that much extra range without a scope? You might as well switch to your primary if you're taking a shot that far.

[i]Nik,[/i] someone finally had said, [i]how long's it been since you felt a gun kick at all? Take the extra damn range.[/i]

Couldn't argue with that.

The boss had come through a couple minutes into the carbine's check but he wasn't even sure she noticed. Probably fine to let the techs do a rundown on it all, but it'd be a cold day in hell before Nik didn't check his own equipment. You drop behind lines without checking your own gear, anything that comes next is on you. Who's gonna offer you a replacement part? The Covenant? No, no. Personally double check. No, the orders were to report fully mission ready. If the boss didn't like the extra minute or two she could bring it up, and he'd be happy to have a long talk about the time a trooper dropped without checking his rifle. 

He'd still be ready second, anyway.

When Nik was satisfied he set down the weapon and its magazines and uncoiled to his full, cross-a-room-in-a-single-stride height. It was time to get suited up. He hadn't been around for the old days, when putting on MJOLNIR took three techs and an act of God. Thank the big guy, honestly, he'd have rather dropped in his old ODST gear than stand there for however long. The Brokkr did it quick and easy, all he had to do was stand in place. 

Recluse-type Gen 2 armor. Not that it had any marks or specs or anything like that, the thing didn't exist. Or it wouldn't, if he hadn't made a request. ONI probably trying to curry favor. Spooks planned years if not generations in advance like always, and they probably figured they could nab him after a few years. They used to have some Spartans working directly for them, and they'd never forgotten. Honestly, they probably still did. Not like the end of the war made them more forthcoming. Especially when depending on who you asked it never ended. Still he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth; whoever made the thing, it ran like a Swiss watch. He'd insisted on a different helmet, though. Partially because the new one could get stomped on by a Hunter and never notice, but mostly for the fancy toys under the hood.

[color=green]"Run an uplink check yet?"[/color] He asked the nearest tech, as soon as the LOCUS helmet was properly fitting around his head. [color=green]"Don't wanna fly blind down there just because someone got dust on the networking gear."[/color]

"All clear, sir."

[color=green]"Thanks."[/color]

Double check the gear. Always.

The rest he could check himself, though. There wouldn't be any feeds to coordinate until they dropped. He could check what assets were in the area during the briefing. Weapons were cleared, armor was cleared, uplink was green, Nik was good to go. So he finally started making his way to the Command Deck as ordered, passing orderly through the corridors. There wasn't a lot of room for him to go around; mostly people went around him, and he did his best not to look too spooky. Smile and a nod didn't do much from inside a closed helmet. The Celestian was a good ship, though, and it never felt too cramped on his way to the lift.

The Command Deck itself, about ten years ago, would've been the most impressive thing he'd ever seen. Now it was like just about any other, even if it was cleaner. See a dozen ships and you've pretty much seen 'em all.

[color=green]"Captain. Boss."[/color] He said by way of greeting, crossing his arms when he came to a stop next to the holographic display. It wasn't unfamiliar, he'd been going over what data was available for a few hours before beginning his maintenance check. [color=green]"How long until the drop, and where's the rest?"[/color]