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It was no longer a question on IF there were going to crash, but if there would be any walking away from the wreckage. Orbital crash-landings were never good, if the atmosphere didn't burn them up the sudden impact would leave them shattered piles of flesh and bone. This one was going to be messy. With the power down there would be no shields to dissipate the heat, things would begin to heat-up quite fast. In moments the hull would be blazing, the internal temperature would start to rise as well, the air would simply begin to boil...those onboard would be cooked like hunks of meat. The crash-landing itself would scatter wreckage across a few square miles of area, there would be nothing but chunks of hot metal to salvage.
Capt. Write didn't believe in going down with the ship.
"All hands, move to the nearest escape pod. This is Captain Write, I am authorizing an immediate evacuation of this ship. Spaar seems to think this bucket of bolts can handle atmo-burn and an impact that will make a crater the size of Ohio...I have my doubts. I repeat, move to a pod and scuttle. Synch locators on my pod, I will secure a landing zone." Write spoke into her helmet's internal mic, sending a ship-wide broadcast that her Spartans would catch over the wireless. Her hands moved to a nearby keypad, rapidly tapping out the needed codes to allow the escape pods to be launched. Her final key-stroke queuing up her Pod's locator beacon for the rest to link to.
Her mass moved, twisting and ducking into her pod, as a section of steel swings in, coming lose from it's mooring along the ceiling. It passed her by, missing by scant inches, embedding into the opposite wall. Things were shaking loose quickly, maybe the heat and impact wouldn't be needed to kill them...the flying debris may be enough. The pod's seal hisses, sealing her in, while the interior fills with fluid once again- this time clouded with particles, small silver spheres. These would react with heat, enlarging and cushioning her form. They would serve as coolant and impact bracers.
A quick hand move, pressing a selection of glyphs on the interior surface...activates the pod's jettison sequence. Instantly a section of flooring below irises open, and a set of hydraulic arms extend, lowering the black pod into the deck. With a snik the hole seals tight again, as a second portion opens lower..sliding the pod into an area much like that of a gun barrel, a count-down beginning to tick by...
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Carl could hear Write over her ODST pods comm system she hit the eject button and it launched hitting the tip of the hull before flying out she knew it would be a hard impact.
He slammed back-first into the sealed door, but the pain was forgotten in an instant the moment he saw the large, steel section of the ceiling come unhinged at the far end of the hall. The massive and undoubtedly heavy sheet of metal smashed and clanged it's way towards him. Slamming his hand on the door release, Choi swung like a gymnast from the door frame and felt the rush of the wind coming from the object which threatened to end his life. He grasped onto the edge of one of the steel beams which reinforced the ceiling of the lounge, and by dropping down to the one below him, slowly lowered himself towards one of the pods. He leaped, grasping on to the edge and flinging his body into the open pod. Instinct replaced thought as he strapped himself in and initiated the drop sequence. His fingers rapidly tapped against the keypad as the large door hissed and sealed shut, it's glass window being covered by a thick blast shield. He could feel himself being lowered into launch-ready position. The light above him flicked on green, and that was his cue. His fist slammed the release, and he was jettisoned into the Great Nowhere of the stars.
The roar of the thrusters was loud, almost deafening, and the G's as they directed his pod towards the locator beacon like a homing missile was enough to make most men lose their lunch. Choi just closed his eyes and took deep, steady breathes. His mind drifted away into a meditative state. There was really nothing he could do now, and soon all the noises, motions, and even the feel of his combat gear in the cramped pod just faded away. Outside, his pod was glowing white hot as flames seared up the sides. The atmosphere was not going to be kind. Internal alarms sounded as the temperature rose steadily. However the only thing that brought Choi back to reality was when his pod made contact with a rock formation, skipping off it's surface and spiraling through the air. The side of the drop pod had caved in, smacking him in the side of the head and leaving a visible dent in his helmet. Choi's mind swam as he could feel blood trickling down his cheek. Finally the nightmarish ride ended with him crashing to a halt, and losing consciousness on impact.
His eyes glazed open for only a moment, taking in the surface of the alien world and blurred bits of movement outside his pod before the darkness once again enveloped him. His last conscious thought was going back to something his Drill Instructor had said many years ago.
"Jumping feet first into hell isn't your job......
Making sure it's crowded when you get there is....."
But, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. The calm before the storm had passed. In the Exosphere, there is practically no wind. It is to high up for planetary winds to effect it, but strong enough that solar winds couldn't penetrate it. But when they started to enter the Mesosphere, there is so much turbulence its nearly impossible to navigate with out some sort of engine. Even though the 5th of November carried 4 nuclear propulsion engines... They were all offline. They were a dead weight, and not a very aerodynamic weight.
Suddenly, the entire ship started to tilt forward, with the aft starting to point down at the ground, they were in a free fall nosedive...
Because he himself had no opinion on what they should do, he said nothing, but nodded. His rank, Captain like the other two figures on this ship, was... dull compared to the others. Technically, he was about the third most powerful person on the ship, with Write and Spaar outranking him....somehow. Dalton was thrown on this ship for some reason, and because he didn't care to argue with a religious man and a blind brute, he didn't have any problem with this, and as of yet, he hasn't heard any 'stupid' orders from his superiors. As such, he started out towards the nearest escape pod with the intent of getting out of here alive.
The ship rumbled again, this time much more violently before suddenly, Dalton found himself climbing up an arced hallway. "Down" began feeling harder to keep up with, and unfortunately, he started falling at the same time a rupture in the area beneath him appeared. The aged Spartan, knowing exactly what this meant, clutched his fists as viciously, he was sucked out of the ship.
Well fuck.
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"shit." Carl thought as the ODST pod was ripped out of the ship while she fell she saw Dalton falling too Her heart beating she tried to activate the brake flaps but the system was fried so they popped out about three minutes later and slowed her down as much as as possible if this was a hot drop a wraith would shoot her out of the sky easily. she was going so slow she hit the flaps then cut through the roof of the pod breaking her helmet she was still suffocating though and so she hit a button the door flying off. The door hit something making a audible pop and squish at the same time she looked around seeing something move she drew her machete.
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