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Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on Sept 2, 2011 20:48:10 GMT -6
Name: Michael Thrax Call sign/Nickname: Bones Age: 37 Height: 5'11" Weight: 200 lbs History: Born in Sparta, Terra, Michael excelled in schooling till it came to his junior year in high school when he accidentally killed Kate Lawson; tossing him in prison in Delos. Serving only a year before being pulled out to head into Advance Schooling, his record goes silent for three years. Expunging his former record, a Commander of the Sparrow Program recruits him which leads him into the military with a new life set forward. Trained both on Terra and Ares, Michael is an expert in covert operations, advance tactics, explosives implimation and extraction, advance marksman, zero G combat and field medicine. Placed under command of General Harperson, he was placed into Alpha Battalion and soon gained the call sign Bones. Served during the Corinth/Sparta War, served one year in enemy prison. Dishonorable discharged from the service. Training: 13th Sparrow Division. Transferred to Alpha Battalion; Covert Operations. Advance Military Tactics; Explosives; Advance Marksmen, ranked 2nd in a class of 100; Docerate from Helios University; and Zero G training & combat. Service Timeline: 13th Sparrow Division; Sergeant Alpha Battalion; Captain Corinth/Sparta War; Major Discharged Colonial Marines; Captain Secret Service; Colonel Colonial Marines; Colonel Medical History: Gun shot wound in Left Arm Gun shot wound in Left Lower Torso Minor leg muscle issue in right leg...genetic Gun shot in Left Hand Currently believed to have PTSD but unconfirmed Remnants of scar along Right Forearm Relationships Samantha Martin: Met her on Terra after her raptor broke down ;D and she's the only reason he's on the Atlantia. Even though she may act tough, he knows she's actually soft and has the potential to be something more. Currently married to her for a few years currently residing on Kobol. Rebecca Black: Had a relationship during the war before the Colonials appeared, since then only became friends but still watch each others back. Mason Briggs: Looks to the old man for advice though there is some hatred for what he did, he respects him and sees him as an exceptional soldier. Jack Thrax: Hates his brother for his past although promised to look after him by their dead father, he can't bring himself to put a bullet in his own flesh and blood.
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Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on Nov 25, 2013 9:59:34 GMT -6
Prologue Young and sons of Henry Thrax, who was an SF Colonel in the last war, left home in the foothills of Sparticulas, a town owned exclusively by the SF Division and tucked into the Gondawan Hillside. The sons had heard war stories from the last war and didn’t have plans on joining the Marine Corps or the army but the Division that their old man had served since they had enlisted with the 1st Regiment headed by Commodore Harperson. Stepping onto a bus, they both sat in the back while they watched other new recruits step onboard, unknow that they would be working with some of these people for the rest of their lives. Young and energetic, the younger brother had been training his body for this for a while and met the Commodore a few years ago while he was attending school but had previous training for attributes that make his specialization something needed in any war. Michael, named after his great grandfather that served in a previous war as well, he wore a leather jacket that Henry had given him when he was sixteen it was a gift from his mother before she passed and it had special pockets which he had kept credits in just for whenever he left the house. Now nineteen, Michael was at his fighting weight of one hundred and ninety pounds with a fifteen percent muscle mass which made him a prime candidate for the SF program. Unlike Michael, Jack’s twenty-one and had been through the training once before but failed it due to the requirements but this was his second time around. Wearing old olive draft fatigues with his name tag on it, he had yet to earn his SF patch which would take years and hundreds of hours of equipment training which made the Division useful for thousands of years. At two hundred pounds and sixteen percent muscle mass, Jack had spent months on conditioning and knew if Michael went in as well then just maybe they could make it through. Driving for hours on end, the road was soon moved to the underground where they drove through a tunnel created for the trainees which led to Base Alpha. Base Alpha was created a few hundred years ago to allow the SF’s to live somewhere completely secure from the governments and couldn’t be destroyed from the orbital satellites, the base is home to millions and serves as not just their base of operations but also their home. Linked with Atlantis, Base Alpha is one of a kind with training facilities, living quarters, hangers and even experimental simulators that allow a person to envision any place on Terra even the smell of the air. Reaching the main gate, the bus came to a stop as SF’s stood outside with body armor on and pistols which was inside of their holsters but it was all for looks since the recruits were here willingly. Ordering them out, the first thing was to have the recruits strip down and get into white fatigues which symbolized that they were in fact new while the clothing is stored in lockers inside the base; it was also to ensure no hazardous bacteria got inside the base. Spotting Commodore Harperson, both Michael and Jack knew he was inspecting the new recruits, mostly to ensure that there wasn’t any Gondawans that slipped in since only 3 Gondawans per year are allowed and they have made their quota. Following the recruits into the base, Harperson knew most of the recruits are children of those that served before or were children of Marine generals that want the best. Addressing them as they stood in the massive elevator, Harperson kept his hands to his back as his men stood at all corners; “I’m Commodore Harperson, I’m one of the few people that you don’t have to say sir to since for now you all are recruits thus have no rank. Standard training is two years but for you all it’ll be five years since we could possibly see another war in that period but in that period you’ll be observed and assigned jobs such as Operator, Sniper, Pilot, CQW Personnel and Demolitions. These jobs may change after the war but each one matches your style thus will stick with you, now, the medical wing will see you first and see you in a few years.” Four and half years later...Training had been cut short, Corinth had been losing the war with Sparta since the Spartans were using biological weapons once more and were winning with hundreds dying almost every month. Sitting on a plane, third Lieutenant Michael Thrax sat with the rest of his eight man squad led by Captain Tiberius Harperson who was the son of the Commodore; their mission is to recapture one of Sparta’s chemical plants. The defenses had held off the Marine Corps for weeks, however, they weren’t hitting it head on but above and they had to pick a rainy night to hide their tactic. Securing his parachute, Michael got up with his HK-01 in hand with a machine pistol on his hip, loaded down in light armor and equipped with the newest of gadgets; the Mark I Tactical Pad. The tactical pad is the newest gadget created just for the SF Division, it’s power source is a microsingularity that continuously recycles power to give it a three hundred year half life encased in materials to keep it from being exposed. Touch screen, its linked to the SF networks and uses an encryption that matches nothing else known to the Terrans even more able to resist any environment they would ever encounter. Keeping it in the protective sleeve on his forearm, he moved past the Operator Tom Westen who would be staying on the plane to coordinate with them to command, he slipped on his recon mask which was a protective mask covering his face and linking his eyes to simple HUD. Feeling the metal panels on his neck, he let it pass as he turned to the Captain who was going to have him jump out first before the squad joined him since it was his brilliant idea to take this position on in the air. Opening the ramp, he didn’t wait for the green light before dropping out, waiting till he reached five thousand feet before opening his parachute as he pulled out his rifle to begin firing down at guard tower positions. Cutting his parachute, he dropped down onto the roof, kicking the Spartan off before he sprinted to a sniper nest; hitting targets all to throw the Spartans off guard. Unlike other attacks, this single attack was coordinated between the SF Division and the Corinth Marine Corps who for the last two years has been fighting to maintain the armistice boundaries between Corinth and Sparta. Hearing his team coming in, he changed out magazines as brass casings appeared around his feet, the Spartans had turned their attention to him as they attempted to shut him down. Turning to see Captain Harperson, the squad laid down cover fire as the Marines punched through the Spartan barriers and rushed into the facility. Running low on ammunition, Michael pulled out his last magazine as he took aim on the Spartan Commander, killing the man with his last round as he claimed what would be later be called the luckiest kill. Listening to the radios, he turned to the Captain while the pair of sergeant’s prepared the ropes for them to slide down to get a ride with the Marines; switching over to his pistol as he slid down after the Captain. Dropping down into a humvee that was once Spartan, they drove off not with the Marines but headed off to join the main force which was miles away forming to rush into Sparta territory.
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Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on Nov 25, 2013 17:58:25 GMT -6
Captured Suiting up, Michael had been in the field for 2 years and completed dozens of missions but with Captain Harperson dead and the SF’s starting to lose the foothold they had spent years capturing which meant now was time to bring down the Spartan leadership. Slipping on his chest plate followed by his vest, he slipped on the bulk of his gear before turning to his operator, Tom, he was leading an operation on a small island on the outskirts of Spartan territory which was deep in enemy territory. The mission was simple, a six man squad was going to use a stolen Spartan transport to land on the island and make it past over a thousand men to the leadership which is heavily guarded and assassinate them followed by fighting their way out. Marked as an Alpha One mission, a suicide mission plain and simple but Harperson knew that this kid wouldn’t fail after all this was their last mission if they succeeded. Slipping on his mask which contained a pair of multi-use goggles which had night vision, heat vision, X-ray and digital vision all of which are vital as well as a secure radio and a battery with reduced emissions; all for the best of Black Ops. Slinging his sniper rifle, he had help to slip on his pack before picking up his specialized M4 before turning to the Commodore; “I trust we’re leaving at night cause otherwise we won’t be able to infiltrate so easily.” Harperson picked up the file as he tore the red tape off of it, “General Yeti will be running a distraction with ten thousand men to hit a Spec Ops base but be warned that if your mission heads south then it’ll be awhile till you get reinforcements,” patting Michael on the shoulder, “your father would be proud.” Unable to smile or anything under the mask, Michael simply saluted the Commodore before opening the hatch to the platform that lead to the massive Spartan chopper. Unlike stealth SF aircraft, the chopper was bulky with armor plating and a single twin rotor that had more lift than an SF chopper which for being a gunship it was needed. Climbing inside, he closed the massive door as he flipped on his night vision before looking over his squad all of which he had served with previously; all of which were the best and right now that was all they needed. Loading up the virus for the tactical pads, he knew if they failed then the technology couldn’t be handed over to the Spartans; placing it on standby while he held on. Hearing the pilot had alerted them that they had entered Spartan airspace but soon after the mission began to fall apart as alarms concerning missiles were on them. Strapping in, the gunship began swerving and attempting to dodge the missiles, dropping down into a valley to attempt to lose them but it was all a trap. Clipping the tail rotor, the chopper began spiraling out of control before crashing into a raging river, carrying the chopper down river with them still inside. Cutting loose his straps, Michael tried to stay above water as he slid open the hatch for his men, attaching a pack of G6 to the helicopter before jumping out himself. Exploding only seconds later, they began swimming to shore but with the crash and all the enemy knew exactly where they were and responded in kind. Taking cover against a tree, the Spartan Army began opening fire, taking fire followed by opening fire in an attempt to call in for an extraction but their radios were being blocked. Activating the virus for the tactical pads, they were soon being fired on by the men on the other side of the river as his men attempted to hold their ground; outnumbered and outgunned something most SF’s hate the most. Watching his men fall, Michael pulled off his mask as he began firing on an advancing Spec Ops but knew he couldn’t get out of there; setting his rifle down he raised his hands to surrender. Taking a rifle to the face, Michael peered up to see Spec Ops surrounding him as they began attaching shackles to him with a fleet of choppers landing to take them away. Unaware of the failure, Harperson reviewed over reports of the battle from General Yeti but soon noticed nothing new coming in from Sparta even more it appeared a virus had been activated. Walking over to Tom, they began pulling up satellite information to notice the chopper never made it to its target even more General Yeti stood unopposed which meant this was a trap and they stepped right into it. Right away, Harperson knew Michael and his team were being held by Spartan forces but where and how many survived? A question that will remain just that since the Council will disconnect from the captured SF’s and even more won’t authorize a rescue mission which meant for now Michael was on his own and might be on his own for a while.
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