Bio: Boone "Maverick" Jackson
Gunnery Sergeant
Male
35
England, Earth
Outside: Medium muscle build, 6'2"(188 cm), African descent.
Has a long scar under his chin going from the right to the bottom-left side of his neck.
Inside: A born leader, he tends to choose his own path rather than to stick to the norm. Has an aptitude for weapons and can use them in creative ways if necessary. Has a family history in the UN Armed Forces. Likes women, and had 4 girlfriends before deployment. Was promoted to Gy Sgt. early on, due to his brilliant tactical skills.
Keara folds over the blanket, sits up, and comes face to face with this man. "Get a good sleep?" He asked.
Keara slowly nodded. She looked down and saw that her left arm was in a makeshift sling. "What luck," she thought.
She then looked up at the man sitting next to her. He has several cuts and bruises all round his body, and as she looked around, many of the other men did too.
"The name's Jackson, Boone Jackson. But you can call me 'Maverick.' That's what my platoon calls me. These men here are the remaining members of that platoon. Oh, I assume you have a name as well?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Er..." She starts thinking, ignoring the question. Maverick, I know I heard that name somewhere...
One of the guys whispers, "Crikey, she must've hit her head. She can't remember her name..."
Keara quickly snapped back to the present. "Keara, it's Keara," She exclaimed.
"Well, Keara, welcome aboard the 46th platoon of the UNMC," Maverick exclaimed proudly.
It all came back to her. Maverick was the leader of the famous 46th platoon. These men were the best in the Marine Corps, and coupled with their leader, "Maverick" Jackson, They were even better. Their experience was great, and each member contributed to the success of each mission they did. These men were like gods in the eyes of their worshipers. They have seen heck and lived.
Until a few months ago, they were the best. The entire platoon vanished during one of their missions. No contact has ever been made with the 46th since. The day before Keara's crew departed on their mission, the 46th platoon was disbanded by the UN and its members were given a symbolic funeral.
As Keara recalled, the platoon had around 50 members. Here, as she looked around, were only 5 men altogether.
"You guys are the 46th platoon?" She asked.
"Yep, the best of the best, at your service." Maverick bows to Keara as he says this.
Keara never thought she would be face to face with a group like this. Her heart started to rush, her mouth was filled with questions that she wanted answers to. But before she could speak, Maverick pounced.
"You had a hog, right? How did you not get seen?"
"What? By who?"
'The Covenant! They've been scouting this entire planet over, trying to find us. You're saying that until now, you saw nothing out there?"
"No, since I left the ship, you guys are the first creatures I've seen."
"The ship? You came in a ship?"
"How else would I have gotten here?" She asked sarcasticly.
"Was anyone else with you?" Maverick asked quickly.
"Yes, but we crashed here, and as far as I know, no one else survived. I'm the only survivor."
All the heads bowed down in sorrow.
Maverick spoke: "Well, if you survived and made it here without seeing Covenant, It might be clear enough for us to leave. We can use the communication devices in your ship to send out a distress signal. Hopefully a nearby navy ship will get the signal and rescue us."
"Hold on, there's something else you should know," Keara said.
"What?"
"First off, you said the Covenant were scouting this planet, right? They could still be here and may intercept the signal."
Maverick smiled. "There's a frequency that the Covenant seem to not know about yet. So far all of the UN distress signals sent on that frequency have avoided the attention of the Covenant fleets. If we set the transmitter to that frequency, we should be able to send out a call without the Covenant knowing our position."
"Okay, then. The last thing I want to say is: You don't wanna go to the ship." Keara said disapprovingly.
"Why not?" Maverick inquired curiously.
"Just trust me. You don't wanna go there." Keara made sure that Maverick and his crew knew the implied horrors on that ship, just from this statement.
(Bios on the remaining 46th platoon)
Bio: Jimmy Alteirs
Corporal, Weapons Expert
Male
32
New Sydney, Io (Moon of Jupiter)
Outside: Small build, 5'10"(178cm), brown hair, slim, keeps his hair tidy.
Inside: Loving, caring, deep in his faith. Keeps a picture of his wife and 2 kids in his pocket at all times. He initially did not want to joined the Armed Forces, but when the Covenant killed his brother in combat, he was determined to give the Covenant some payback. Since joining he has become adept at using various weapons and holds all the ammo for the platoon as of now.
Bio: Rollin Rodan
Private First Class
Male
33
New Athens, Mars
Outside: Heavily muscular build, 6'4" (193cm), uniform sleeves are ripped off, showing off bulky arms, always has a stern look on his face.
Inside: Despite his appearance, Rollin is a very kind man. He has a habit of punishing himself for every mistake that he makes, which would account for most of the bruises he has obtained. He had to join the Armed Forces, otherwise his parents would put him to work at the family business, where he continually had to sit around taking orders. Rollin has never lost a fist fight, arm wrestle, or any other contest of physical strength, and his strength rivals that of the Covenant Elites.
Bio: Nickolas Cabrerra
Private
Male
25
New Mexico City, Venus
Outside: Light build, 5'8" (173cm), Hispanic descent, rebellious style of dress and looks.
Inside: Nickolas came from a poor section of New Mexico City. His father, a police officer, enlisted Nick in the Marine Corps, hoping to change his rebellious attitude. He was placed in the 46th platoon with Jackson. Jackson quickly saw the rebel inside Nick and tried to tame it. Within a matter of days, Nick became obedient. Although when not in action, Nickolas sometimes reverts back to his old self, but he still shows respect to his platoon and Jackson. Nickolas is knowledgeable with weapons and is the perfect man to put in the front line. He gets irritated everytime the guys called him "Nickie," And would much rather be called by his full name than this affectionate nickname.
Bio: Alan Truesdale
Private First Class
Male
42
Necroville, Pluto
Outside: Medium build, 6'0" (183cm), african descent, very defined jaw and face, growing a thin beard.
Inside: The oldest of the survivors, he acts like a senior officer of his group, despite his rank. He recently enlisted into the Marine Corps, to hopefully be with his 2 sons, who are also marines. All three of them were in the 46th Platoon, but unfortunately he was the only survivor. He still has flashbacks of his sons and wishes they were with him.