milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Things have gotten busier since they let Natalie back out into the field. Insurgency missions are far behind her; for the last two weeks, she's been working to disrupt a Covenant mining operation. They're making headway, but the Covenant have been settled in for a long time and they're not going to be dug out overnight.

Natalie expects her barrack when she opens the door; she hesitates slightly on the threshold, her boots crusted with snow and bright purple blood. It's the first time she's been in the bar in full armor; she moves easily enough in it that the casual observer might not realize just how much it weighs. She makes her way over to the bar, where she pops the seals on her helmet and sets it down.

"Bar, could I...can I just get some water? With ice?"

[ooc: Mun is having notif issues, so accidental lag may result.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jake had also been somewhere snowing, but his snow has long since melted, leaving behind the brown stains of war on his boots and lower legs; mud, shit, blood.

He doesn't recognize her, not until she takes off her helmet.

And then she gets a whistle.

"Looking good, Nat," the Marine says, curling his fingers around a mug of steaming coffee.

She grins, tired but pleased.

"Told you I'd wear it in one of these days," she says, lifting her water glass in a toast.

He raises his mug in reply.

"Very cool."

Not too mention sexy, sexy as only beautifully, wonderfully functional armour can be.

She gives him a once over, gaze lingering on his boots.

"Where've you been?"

"Belgium. It decided to implode, so the UN sent us over to calm things down."

Or run around blowing shit up, arresting people, all that good stuff.

"It's one place on the entire freaking planet that's gotten colder, not hotter."

"Things calmer now, or are you gonna be stuck there for a while yet?"

"A bit calmer, but if it keeps on rumbling, the Army guys can take over. We made it easy for them."

Edited 2011-12-25 01:02 (UTC)

"No doubt you did."

He grins at her. "Can't have 'em hurting themselves doing things that are too dangerous."

She laughs.

"Damn straight. They didn't join the Army for danger."

He returns the laugh before taking another sip of his wonderfully black coffee.

"So, what the hell kinda thing bleeds purple?"

"Big pissed off dinosaur looking thing," she explains.

"They have their own name, but we call them Elites. They run between seven and eight feet tall; bipeds with body armor and plasma-based weapons. They're the military backbone of the Covenant, and they get a little cranky when you interrupt their mining operation."

"Nice. Miners can be belligerent."

"They've got Grunts doing the actual heavy lifting; the Elites are keeping everything in line.

Or they were."

He grins at her. "Nice going, then."

She ducks her head, smiling crookedly back.

"Eh, I've still got plenty of work to do."

Doesn't sound like she minds.

"Well," he says, grinning softening into a crooked smile of his own. "No rest for the wicked."

Beat.

"Or was it, 'light work makes Devil's play?" He pulls a face. "One of the two. Or both!" For a moment, Jake is entirely distracted, off somewhere in his head chasing down half-remembered quotes.

She laughs.

"Either works. Don't think I've heard that second one before, though."

"Something my dad knows. I mean, he's atheist as they come, but journalist, so he's all word-geeky. Has all these books full of nothing but quotes. Really can't remember what the actual quote is, though."

He rubs the back of his head, and then shrugs it off.

Howard Stark is staring. Not at the woman, though she is attractive. But at the armor. It's amazing. And must be really, really advanced.

"Er, hello. What is that you're wearing?"

Natalie blinks.

"This? MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor, Mark V."

"Assault armor...it must be very advanced. What's it made from?" Appropriately for the day, Howard suddenly seems like a kid on Christmas morning, ready to unwrap a gift.

"Well, it's 2551 back home," she replies.

"And the armor's mostly a titanium alloy."

He's trying not to stare. Really.

"You're 500 years ahead of me. So that must be...

"Please forgive me. I work in engineering and I would probably kill to be able to make something remotely like that for the army.

"Howard Stark."

"No need to apologize.

I'm Natalie; good to meet you, Howard."

"Do you get this sort of thing here all the time? I mean, I would guess your armor is commonplace to you, right? But to me..." He orders a coffee. "We can barely make bulletproof vests and helmets,"

Natalie shakes her head.

"They aren't all wearing this back home, I can tell you that. This--"

She gestures to her armor. "--is just issued to a few of us. For the most part, the rank and file Army and Marines have a much simpler kit; mostly vests and helmets with some smaller armoring on arms and legs.

Specialized units get more elaborate armor depending on their skill set. This is the latest and greatest out of R&D; there aren't many in the field."

He immediately suspects that she therefore must be among the elite. Which a woman in his time would never be.

"Am I allowed to ask what sort of duty you've pulled?"

500 years can make a world of difference.

She nods. "What you need to know first is that we're at war with some alien races who've banded together in what they call the Covenant. Turns out humanity is an affront to their religion, so they're not too fond of us.

I've been hopping around on different assignments--generally ground combat, some times more covert than others--wherever the military needs an extra pair of hands. A few months ago, they had me serving as a test pilot for a new space-based fighter."

"Test pilot?" That future sounds grim, but at the same time he has to be interested in the tech. "I suppose I can call myself that, after a fashion. But not of fighter planes and never in space."

"Not of planes, huh?"

She smiles. "Am I allowed to ask for more details?"

"No, just not of fighter planes. I test the small passenger planes I develop. It has the same sorts of challenges, but with a bit less risk." Although he is sure he could fly anything.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only