DisturbedSpec

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

UNSC Unbroken Hope

1230 Hours, April 19th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Interacting with: @Sep

Marcus sat at the Command Chair, staring out into the void of space as he allowed himself to be distracted by the glittering stars shining though the darkness. He couldn't stop thinking about Leon and his team; out of communications range and in an environment they didn't even know. He knew people like Elizabeth and Colonel Briggs would do the same thing if it was their men being sent down to an unfamiliar, potentially hostile world. Now beyond returning home, people began to realize they were all they had out here. The lines between duty, survival and protocol were becoming blurred- mashing everyone together into one big dysfunctional family of soldiers. Marcus was quickly jolted out of his thoughts as the sound of approaching footsteps prompted him to look up at the figure. The woman before him was, he assumed, of strong Germanic origin, possessing a strong, square jawline, blond hair and ice blue eyes. He smiled, and she didn't. "Warrant Officer Schleibaum, what can I help you with?" He inwardly cringed as he nearly fumbled to try and pronounce her last name; the awkward pronunciation of "sleigh-ballum" making the woman scrunch her nose slightly before speaking with a heavy German accent. "Admiral Oliver, Sir. Ve are being hailed by zhe Daedalus." Raising an eyebrow, Marcus rose from his seat and replied, "Patch it through to the main display, let's see what they want." The woman clicked her heels in a salute to the Admiral, saying, "Aye, Sir," before pivoting on a heel and walking briskly back to her station. Marcus went over to the main panel, shoving the stiff interaction to the back of his mind as the glass display lit up with red-tinged words, "CONNECTING TO UNKNOWN SIGNAL. . .STANDBY."

When the hail finally connected, Marcus stood at Parade Rest, allowing a brief pause for the communications to clear up before speaking to the figure at the other end. "This is Admiral Marcus Oliver of the UNSC Unbroken Hope, is there something I can help you with?" The figure at the other end introduced themselves as Major Kevin Marks of the Daedalus, suggesting one of their engineers be sent over to install a shield generator aboard the Unbroken Hope. Of course, this was all in respect to Marcus's permission. "Understood; send them to the Hangar and a security escort will take them to Engineering." When the hail closed, Marcus strode to the center console and spoke up. "Issac." The white hologram materialized, and Marcus spoke again with a tone of uncertainty in his voice. "We'll be having one of the Daedalus Engineers onboard to look at an upgrade for the Hope. Security will be present in case of sabotage; I want you to oversee the upgrade process and disallow them remote access to anything other than the power distributor and the necessary subsystems connections. Ensure this is a one-way operation; anything requiring additional permissions needs to be relayed to me. Understood?"

"Aye, Sir." Issac saluted, vanishing from the central console. "Security Team One, report to Hangar." Issac's voice was momentarily heard over the Hope's loudspeakers, and Marcus could feel the wheels turning as the orders were received. "Warrant Officer Williamson, monitor the Hope's systems and update me on installation progression." An "Aye, Sir!" came from somewhere on the upper right side of the Bridge; the figure obscured by the glass panel serving as a divider between the left and right sections of the ship. As Marcus seated himself back in the Command Chair, it wasn't long before he began drifting off to the operation's progress.

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SENTINEL 1-1/Away Team 2
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Interacting with: @Sep

The team of six made their way to the craft known as the 'Jumper', embarking it with another team as they secured themselves to the seats. Liam has his pilot helmet on; polarized and tinted to obscure his eyes from view as did every other ODST. Well, except Leon. The Squad Leader insisted on being as transparent as possible in the face of the unknown, and therefore had depolarized his helmet's visor as to not look like another faceless being to the rest of the crew and auxiliary forces aboard the station. One of the shuttles had just departed, which meant soon that he and his team were next in line. From what the others could make out, every single black-clad soldier had their own role in the squad, it seemed. Most carried suppressed assault rifles, battle rifles and SMGs, with one member lugging what appeared to be some sort of a heavy sniper rifle, again fitted with a suppressor at the end.

As the Jumper finally touched down without so much as a bump, Leon filed out after the members exited the craft. He was at least glad to have these new 'Omni-Tool' devices mounted on each of their wrist gauntlets, but he much preferred using his helmet's internal communications and VISR. His team fanned out of the dropship and followed Sheppard; their heads and bodies on a pivot to survey the area from all sides as they approached the maintenance shaft in a staggered column. Leon held a hand up; signaling his team to stop as he spoke up, voice barely above a whisper but just loud enough to hear. "Where are we needed, Sheppard?" He didn't like relying on some non-UNSC personnel calling the shots, but he'd have to deal with it nonetheless given the circumstance.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

UNSC Unbroken Hope

1530 Hours, April 16th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector, en-route to the Glasgow

Interacting with: [?]

"Three....Two.....One.... All hands brace!" Issac called out as the crew reflexively gripped onto anything bolted down. Everyone was tense- since this was the first test-fire of the Slipspace Drive since hitting the anomaly. As per the destination solution's accuracy, no anomalies were detected this time around. Hydrogen particulate glared a brilliant white as streaks of passing stars zeroed out into tiny pinpricks of glistening light. When the jump completed, the ventral and side engines rotated the ship to turn around; the crew sighing in relief as the mining station was a kilometer behind them. With the test a success for the engine, they knew they'd have to wait for the official upgrade to be able to travel further with the fleet. "Issac, get Leon up here. Tell him to assemble a fireteam- we don't need a whole task force for this. And inform Amir we're going to need a pilot for transport." Issac nodded, saluting as he vanished into the bridge. Marcus stood up from his command chair, rolling his shoulders and cracking his back as he broke into a series of stretches. Not before long, the bridge access door beeped twice before sliding open- with Leon and five other ODST's filing into the room, all wearing their battle armor and weapons.

"Gentlemen, good to see you. While I personally have not received any orders nor communications from the rest of the fleet, I've taken it upon myself to do some research. The planet you'll be heading to is Coruscant. Once home to Republic forces at its capital, the demise of the faction exposed its corruption, and the Empire soon took its place. I'm sending you to the Glasgow, as our ship is not capable of reaching that destination. You'll be going in via Pelican for this one. Any questions?" Marcus concluded his speech, and every operator looked at one another before turning to Leon, who rolled his eyes and raised his hand before placing it back at his side. "ROE? Objective?"

Marcus nodded, clearing his throat before speaking up. "Return-Fire only. While it is certainly going to draw attention with the Pelican and your armor, I expect that, should your hand be forced, you can deal with the threat quickly. Better to be armed and armored than not and risk getting captured. Your objective is Recon of the Capital and On-Site-Procurement of anything of interest. Data files, documents, schematics- anything of use, Since this 'Empire' is at the beck and call of someone called Palpatine. Whether or not he's related to Anubis, Just don't get caught, understood?" Leon nodded; a flicker of a smile flashing across his face as he internalized his excitement of this mission. Clicking his heels together and straightening up, he along with the rest of his fireteam snapped a salute to Marcus, who returned it as they then exited the Bridge. Marcus pivoted on his foot and strode back to his chair, speaking up. "Issac, pull up the main display and ensure everyone's helmet-cam and VISR is working properly. UNICOM-NAVCOM channels are to be opened and monitored." The white hologram nodded, snapping into a salute as he vanished into the bridge. At the center of the room was a wall that had a thick pane of glass over it; the glass powering up with a flash of light before sectioning into six equal windows of blackness before materializing into the separate video feeds of the Helijumpers. In the lower right corner of each was a separate panel dedicated to the monitoring of each user's vitals, as well as their MOS.

As the team made their way to the hangar bay, they boarded the Pelican and sat in the troop bay as they secured themselves to the inside of the craft. Marcus spoke loud enough for the panel to register speech, and instantly, his voice was relayed to the inside of all six helmets. "Your callsign for this op is Sentinel 1-1, Leon. Synchronize to acknowledge." Leon's speaker was silent, but as soon as the green authentication message came through to the panel, he spoke back to Marcus. "Sync'd, Sir." Marcus nodded. The pilot was seen giving the thumbs-up from the cockpit of the dropship; the door sealing and the cabin pressurizing as the massive engines of the Pelican whirred to life as a dull drone captured by Leon's helmet. Suddenly, all six cameras briefly emitted static as the craft lurched upward and forwards; the ventral hangar bay opening as the Pelican flew out of the airlock. Once within a safe distance, the dropship gunned all four engines and the VTOL was now flying toward the biggest mass of lights not too far from the center of the planet.

Marcus stood feet from the panel as he called out. "How are things looking?"

"Systems are good, no interference with the VISR. Beyond that, it'd a bit of a bumpy ride."

"That's what she sai-"

"Can it, Martinez. Sorry, Sir."

Marcus smirked and shook his head. "No problem; I was once around the bunch in my time. For this op, extraction will be on standby should problems arise. Get in, get out, and don't overstay your welcome."

"Sentinel 1-1 copies all; out."

Marcus estimated that it would take another fifteen minutes before they would arrive on the ship. Once that happened, theye'd be out of range. He could only hope whoever or whatever was down there was amicable to diplomacy.

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SENTINEL 1-1; GLASGOW
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It had been a day since the Pelican boarded the Glasgow, and the team had little issues adjusting to the presence of being onboard another ship. In a way, the architectural design reminded them of the UNSC's Orbital Defense Platform interiors. Spacious, dull-colored and comfortable. Hell, anything was better on a ship than a glassed cityscape. The seven men sat at one of the mess tables, bantering among themselves and mostly chastising the pilot. The pilot's name was Liam; a red-headed Scotsman who wasn't afraid to fight fire with fire; the ODST's liked the flyboy already.

"So Liam- is this thing about the Navy true? Nibbling on appetizers while they fly from place to place, basking in air-conditioned comfort? I didn't see a tray of cocktail shrimp and feel any breezes when we were on route to the Glasgow." Leon joked, making Liam roll his eyes. "Ay, get tha' aloot. Sorreh ta say, but us pilots dun git ta chow down while flyin'. Health hazard."

Leon gave the pilot a look of indignation. "Health hazard? As if flying is more dangerous than dropping into a hot zone with nothing but a pod that can malfunction at any point during the drop? I want a refund." Liam snorted, then spoke up with mock agitation of his own. "Lad, Yer bum's oot the windae. 'magine this aye? Yer flyin' inta 'Ell itself, dodgin' anti-aircraft fire goin' aboot a hunnred in-free tryin' ta not get shot up. Suddenly ya hear gaggin' from tha' back, and yer co-pilot fookin' bokes all o'er tha' goddamn back o'yer heid! Tha's a right scunner, it is." Leon broke into a hardy laugh as his men roared in kind, with Liam chuckling soon after. Upon recovering, he spoke up again. "Earned me wings, tha' one did. Still gettin' surrehs from ma pilot 'eretime I pass him by. E's here, too. Back on tha' Hoop because I didn't trust him fer this one."

Leon snorted, nodding. "With a stomach like that, who would?" The alarm blared as a notable lurch was felt, prompting the team to get up. "Well, looks like this is it. Helmets and gear; people. Liam, if they're landing, you're coming with if the Pelican isn't used. You got a PDW?" The Scotsman nodded, then tapped his right hip where an M7 SMG was holstered. "Alright; everyone on me. Let's go find the rest of the squads."

Leon and his team made their way out of the messhall and to the assembly point, with Liam tagging behind. Although they had an extra gun, the Scotsman was a flyboy. A Marine pilot, but not as experienced as them. Perhaps he'd give him the benefit of the doubt if things went south, and made a mental note to ensure Liam's protection at all cost. After all, he was their ride home after all was said and done.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

@EliteCommander I'll consider it, certainly.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

UNSC Unbroken Hope

[h3]0830 Hours, April 15th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector.

Interacting with: [?]

The mess-hall was alight with activity, even before Marcus had began to sit down with his cup of coffee. Choosing to seat himself down at the table farthest from the entrance to the room, he watched as the majority of service personnel filed in and approached the counter to receive their breakfasts. He could clearly- almost distinctly tell who was a fresh-faced recruit and who was a stone-faced veteran, simply by the way they carried themselves. That, and how the Helijumpers had taken to wearing all-black fatigues whereas the Marines wore their standard greens. Taking a sip of the steaming black liquid, he wondered how many fights these people had gotten themselves into onboard his ship for petty trivialities like rank and who-did-what. As more people filed into the room, already he had spotted a few familiar faces from the bridge, and some from below. Artyom spotted him and nodded; silently signaling that he was going to make his way over when he obtained his tray to which Marcus nodded back. Looking up, he already saw three figures making their way toward him. The first was a man dressed in an all white flight uniform; contrasting sharply against dark caramel skin with matching dark brown hair and eyes. The second, a lean yet muscular man donning the typical black short-sleeve tank top of the Helijumpers; each arm nearly covered in ink as much as scars pockmarked his body against the visage of a square-jaw, short blond hair and deep blue eyes. The third, a slender, athletic woman donning the typical green short sleeve and long combat pants of a Marine. She had black, short hair and pale blue eyes. They seated themselves at his table uninvited, and Marcus knew he was going to be met with a volley of questions without backup from Artyom.

"Amir, Leon, Elizabeth. Good to see you all." Despite his calm facade, he internally reeled at the thought of knowing the blame of being stranded out in an anomalous sector would inevitably come back to him. Already, he'd suspected they'd each come to give him a verbal lashing on endangering the lives of the men under their command, but Marcus was prepared to counter, and accept the responsibility. As they neatly set themselves down at the table, each of them gave him a curt nod in return in being addressed. Finally, Elizabeth broke the silence. "Good to see you too, Admiral. I... realize we've all been quite unexpectedly brought into a universe that isn't our own. It wasn't your fault, and Issac told us everything from the meeting on the Resurgence. Granted, that doesn't mean I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't make the right call- but you have us to see it through should the Unbroken Hope perform any external operations." Marcus blinked, internally sighing in relief as he quietly took another sip of his coffee. Leon spoke up next. "My men are fine. I'm assuming we'll be working in tandem with the Spartans for the majority of any covert ops you have for us." Marcus nodded, and didn't need to know how the man felt about the Super soldiers; the word was practically laced with an underlying venom. Amir spoke up finally,. "Everything is it working order on our end- but I am admittedly concerned. We have 10 Pelicans and 14 Longswords. Not to compare on how Battleplating does, but we haven't exactly flow into.. laser fire before. Blaster laser fire, yes? Would our weaponry even work against them?"

Now the real questions were being asked, right on time as Artyom came over and seated himself close to Marcus. Long before he became an Admiral, Marcus joined the Marines in 2532, serving for fifteen years before transferring over to the Navy. He'd had his share of close calls before, and knew how well their weapons worked against the Covenant despite being more primitive to their tech by moss on a rock. Yet, those troopers onboard the Resurgence were from here. Would a 7.62x45mm go through that armor despite their military moving to blaster warfare? Not to mention shielding, ship-board weapons, missiles and armor. Several second of a ponder later, and the Admiral spoke up with a grim expression on his face. "I don't know, Amir. The only things I can see matching up and potentially exceeding with anything in this place is our MAC Cannons, and anything explosive provided it is not intercepted and shot down. When I was on the Resurgence, there was a woman there who claimed she had no other choice but to bring us here. 'Us' being ourselves and every other 'delegate' in that room- including the Elite. Beyond offering upgrades, I've put in a request for any and all information on just exactly what we're up against. Until I can ensure that we're not throwing wood into a fire, I'm having everyone refrain from any military engagement. If our hands are forced, so be it, but I don't intend fighting a battle we can't win, even with upgrades." Marcus concluded, and Amir nodded. The Admiral looked up and around with a sudden perplexion, turning to Elizabeth. "Where's Jackson?"

"Medbay. Delayed release in Cryo meant he got... burnt. He's stable and recovering, but understandably pissed off. We've all had time to relay the news to our men, and some have taken it a bit harder than others. We've got more than a few people who were going to come home within the next month. Security's been tightened around some sections of the barracks because of stress, and anyone below CO is holding a grudge against people like us. As if we're responsible because we told them the bad news. Only reason Briggs is upset is because, and I quote, 'If I were out there, I'd make them quit cryin' or give them something to really cry about." Liz purposefully spoke an octave lower, making Amir snort and Leon nearly choke on his breakfast. Marcus chuckled and shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee as Leon recovered and cleared his throat. "I think the most difficult part for now is on matters of military intelligence. We simply don't have access to an ONI probe, or SATCOM. Which means unless a Recon team goes down, we're not going to have much Intel on what exactly we'll be walking into. Which means we'll have to consistently balance extremes to avoid bringing a mountain to a molehill, and vice versa."

As Marcus finished the last of his coffee, he nodded to Leon's point. "I'm in agreement, and the last thing I want to do is set a bad example of 'not pulling my weight' when I'm simply being cautious about the lives of my personnel. Down to the last man, we're not expendable. It seemed that way given the circumstances back home, but then again, that was ONI talking. To them, we're all expendable if it meant trading lives for time. Thankfully, they're not here and we can rest easy about that, and plan ahead on what we're going to do next. Rest assured as a plan develops, I'll be sure to have you all head up to the bridge for a meeting." As the activity was winding down, the five servicemembers stood up from the table and exited the mess-hall. Artyom walked alongside Marcus as the pair made their way to the elevator; the Navigation's Officer speaking up along the way. "Thought you were going to get slaughtered by those three, Admiral. I'm surprised they took it as well as they did." Marcus nodded, speaking in return to his compatriot as he lead with a sigh. "We have to. All of us- have to realize that as overwhelming as the situation is, we need to keep optimistic that we're going to get out of here alive. I went over this in the meeting aboard that ship, and the only one I'd even see remotely being in agreement with my words is the Sangheili. Keep in mind, these guys aren't Covenant- hell I'm surprised that Sangheili actually chose to listen over attacking. Not to say that I'm not suspicious of their motives, but as crazy as it sounds, we're going to need to trust them until proven otherwise."

Artyom gave a gruff "hmph," as they made their way back to the bridge. Upon entering, Issac and the crew quickly snapped a salute to the Admiral, then relaxed as Marcus nodded. The duo approached the table, where the white-colored hologram spoke up to address the pair shortly after. "Morning Admiral, Navigation's Officer. We've been idling around the giant station and monitoring the mineral extraction procedures. Kind of strange how similarly it mirrors our own methods with the Turops-class vessels back home. NAVCOM channels have been open-band since the delegations finished so that the other ships can contact us should they choose, but we haven't heard anything back from anyone." Marcus nodded, and out a hand underneath his chin in thought before speaking up. "I'm not going to reach out unless contacted. I really didn't get an official order from the acting FLEETCOM when everyone left the CiC. As far as I'm concerned for the moment, they come to us and we follow with discretion. That factory is supposedly able to produce ships essentially from our universe, but placing an order for something as small as a Paris-Class would mean that we'd have to divert a significant portion of our crew over to the ship. Unless... Do you think it could be automated?"

Issac raised an eyebrow. "I uh... haven't considered that possibility before. Automating it would obviously work, but not without creating a second copy of my functions to run the thing from a DCC. Plus if there's no crew, the abilities to actually make sure the thing doesn't get crippled during a fight would be counterproductive to operations. Also, my functions would be significantly reduced by 50%. This is a double-edged broadsword, Admiral." Marcus sighed, nodding. "I'll think on it. For now, just resume as we are. I'll be here in case anything significant comes up."

"Aye, Sir." Issac said, snapping another salute as he vanished into the table. Artyom pivoted on a heel and moved away from the bridge and back to his station, with Marcus himself going over to the Command Chair and taking a seat. It felt like hitting a wall, yet there was a notable crack in the middle. As he started out into the oynx-tinted void, the massive rectangular station caught his eye as he observed the tiny yellow pods go to and from the nearby asteroid field; their hulls emitting trails of particulate dust that swirled gracefully behind the blue engine lights. A secondary ship would certainly help, but dividing the crew to 500 and not having anyone with specialized training would be just as ineffective as Issac's baseline automation of the frigate. He'd have to ask questions, and despised the thought of reaching out first. Surely there would be a silver lining in all of this, right? Marcus sighed, slinking back in the chair and quelling his anxieties silently to himself. He hoped that the rest of his people weren't taking it as hard as he was.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

@EliteCommander Honestly, the only one fawning over the entire thing would be Issac. The only reason why Marcus is preferring to be diplomatic is because if anything breaks out due to any past histories, he knows the entire fleet will waste them. Plus Protocol doesn't exist, and neither does ONI. It's more about survival than it has ever been to him, and he's smart enough not to be another gung-ho stickler for blowing anything up that isn't an immediate threat. Eri was willing to actually listen when he sure as hell thought there would be a fight in the CiC, and that's left an impression on him that diplomacy does exist.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

That was quite a wholesome message, @Sep.

Undersandable. Kinda wish I could've changed the date to 2551-2 simply for the premise of personalizing a bit more or Team Omicron. Alas, C'est la vie!

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

Not to mention, I plan on soon having my Spartan Fireteam upgraded with MJOLNIR Mk. V or VI. That is to say, despite the in-universe timeline of GEN2 being waaaay further out, it may seem like a possibility depending on what exactly these upgrades entail. I'm imagining 'upgrades' being things from respective universes pulled into this one, but that's just me.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

UNSC Unbroken Hope

1530 Hours, April 11th 2550 (Military Calendar) /
Unknown system, Unknown sector, Aboard the Resurgence.

Interacting with: Everyone aboard the Resurgence.

Things were finally beginning to take shape, it seemed. Indeed, a new command structure had to be formed simply to get off the ground with this newly formed multi-dimensional fleet. Before he could interject, however, one such figure went back to berating another over a job description. Marcus sighed again, and waved his hand at the man as he spoke up. "Regardless of the choice of words some of you may have for each other, from this point on, we're unofficially allied with one another unless something serves to break that, internal or externally speaking. We have a framework of what needs to be done in addressing the issue of eliminating Anubis and his forces, and some of us have vessels that offer quite a large compliment of military personnel for ground and air operations. Yet, there's only... six to eight of us in this room. This is less of a central military and more of a coordinated guerilla operation. If we're going to make any dent in Anubis and his forces, it would be advisable to get any and all information possible on the forces, weapons, armor and technological capabilities of this universe- regardless of how much it deviates from what it originally was in the first place. Our ships were only designed with the forces we had to fight in our home universes, and even with upgrades, it would be foolish to assume our ships could hold their own in a direct engagement with an enemy only one of us has experienced fighting." Marcus nodded in this statement to the crew of the Resurgence, but also applied it to each and every one present in the room. "Furthermore, I believe we're going to need to treat this 'campaign' as a covert liberation effort in its beginning stages. Control sectors, hit-and-run on enemy installations, amass forces from anyone beyond us that is willing to help, then strike with a sufficiently armed and equipped force."

Oliver rolled his shoulders in the seat, wincing with a slight grimace as he adjusted his position, then nodded toward the Sangheili in the room. "Despite our differences in the universes we came from, if what is to be believed about... alignments with 'false gods' and the subsequent division in the Covenant that I learned about- UNSC Protocol does not exist here. Not anymore, anyway. We're on our own and running blind. If I came back from this universe alive and word got out about my involvement with any Covenant, even former, I would be summarily tried and executed. My crew would be dissolved, these Spartans would be hunted down by ONI Kill Squads- everything would come down. What I'm saying right now is downright treason, but frankly, we can't hold onto the hope of coming back if it is the fate we face, for some of us. Having a simple 'central Command delegate' will only get us so far. We all need to communicate and put any mistrust behind us. As far as I know, this meeting will be the first of many. We don't need to like what we hear, but our own self-preservation lies within, essentially, everyone else in this room. Sorry for beating a dead horse on singing 'Kumbaya' in the hopes we're all going to get along, but I'd urge everyone here to realize that there can be no betrayals if we have any hopes of eliminating Anubis. That's the first step to our organization beyond simple ship assessment and who does what."

Marcus adjusted himself again uncomfortably in his seat, finally having enough and deciding to stand up and move back from the internal chair. The Spartans now glanced around the room, and even from them, there appeared to be a general unease at the conclusion of their Admiral's speech. Finally after what seemed like several seconds of silence from the exosuited soldiers, one of them stepped forward; the numbers '233' illuminated from the lighting as the helmet's external speakers crackled to life with a relatively young-sounding, yet borderline inhumanly disciplined female voice. "Admiral Oliver's right. We're prepared to assist your forces in any way we can."

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

"Per Mare, Per Terras, Per Constellatum."

Name: UNSC Unbroken Hope

Class: Marathon-Class Heavy Cruiser

Designation: CA-608

Length: 1,192 meters (3,910 ft)

Width: 293 meters (960 ft)

Mass: 100,000 tons (200,000,000 lbs)

Slipspace Drive: Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine

Shipboard AI: Issac ISC 2869-3 (Third-Generation)

Role(s): Ship-to-Ship combat, Fighter Deployment, Fleet Command, Planetary Garrison

Notable Personnel (SHIP COMMAND)

Rear-Admiral: Marcus Oliver

Technical/Engineering Specialist: WO. Jacob Clarke

Chief Navigation Officer: WO2 Artyom Artyomovich

Weapon/Systems Operator: WO. Jill Williamson

Cryptography Specialist: WO2. Lydia Schleibaum

Notable Personnel (COMPLIMENT COMMAND)

CPT. Jackson Briggs (Commander of 5th Marines Battalion)

CSM Elizabeth Carver (Second-In-Command/Support of 5th Marines Battalion)

LTJG. Leon Dare (Leader of 11th ODST Assault Group)

Strike Group Commander Amir Abadi (Leader of 22nd Air Wing)

Task Force Commander Atticus Felix (Leader of 17th Armored Group)

Kendra-233 (Leader\Combat Life Saver of Omnicon Team)

Benjamin-154 (Heavy Weapons/Demolitions Specialist)

Adam-111 (CQC/Pilot/Driving Specialist

Jenna-025 (Long-Range Support)

Vanessa-152 (Technical Specialist)

Technical Specifications/Armament:

2 Mass-Accelerator Cannons
10 M58 Archer Missile Pods (1,800 missiles)
20 M870 Rampart point defense guns (Networked)
5 Fusion Rocket Deployment Pods
SOEIV Pods (8)

Element Composition:

1,000 Naval Personnel
550 Marines
x1 Spartan-II Commando Teams
x4 Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Squads
10 D77H-TCI ‘Pelican’ Dropship
24 GA-TL1 ‘Longsword’ Strike Fighters

History:

Beginning construction in 2545, the Unbroken Hope was one of the Marathon-Class Heavy Carriers utilized by the UNSC Navy to combat the growing threat of invading Covenant forces, succeeding the Halcyon-Class in frontline flagship support. Five years later in 2550, the Unbroken Hope was cleared to deploy from its Norfolk Orbital shipyard. The Unbroken Hope's mission was to jump to Minab and defend it from Covenant assault. However, the Slipspace Drive encountered a fatal malfunction during its calculation; flinging the warship into the multiverse with all hands presumed lost.

Star Wars - Galaxies at War[MULTIVERSE SPACESHIP RP]

Hah! Nothing like a good 'ol coincidence.