4th Fleet HQ, Nepleslia Prime - 2:43PM

Rear Admiral Dominic Valken sat in his office, reading the latest intelligence reports. Most of it was useless garbage. Stuff probably planted by the squids to mislead them. Why was he even being forwarded reports about merchants stumbling upon NMX convoys? Military intelligence was, in Valken's opinion, falling in standards.

It had been over two weeks since 4th Fleet's involvement in the Tange evacuation. The issues he faced now were integrating his new plans for 4th Fleet with the old and making sure that the sailors and Marines under his command understood what he wanted.

Valken had reviewed the 4th Fleet's actions and procedures under Admiral Wazu. A huge amount of autonomy, some of which he had already relinquished, but upon some consideration, it might not be a bad thing to hold onto some of that independence.

That Yui-class Scout's refurbishment would need to be hurried along. Having an organic reconnaissance unit organic to 4th Fleet would be extremely useful.

Valken flipped through another report and halfway through, sat up straighter. This was concrete and reliable. "Drei, summon Sergeant Volkov's squad."

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4th Fleet HQ, Nepleslia Prime - 3:00PM

Dominic Valken strode into the conference room, large enough to hold sixty people. First here, he noted.

Moments later, Private Bernhard Greer walked in. Valken noted that the man still seemed a little stiff from his injuries and that Private Romero was not hanging off his arm. The relationship between the two puzzled him.

Greer saluted the Admiral, which Valken promptly returned. "Take a seat, Private," he said, walking up to the head of the table.

Phaedra entered the conference room shortly after Bernhard. Upon seeing the Admiral, she saluted him and then headed towards the table. She greeted Bernhard and took a seat across from him near the head of the table.

The telltale metallic thud of heavy booted feet down the hallway announced Rita's arrival before she even walked through the door. It was that pesky five hundred pounds of steel she always carried around, made it hard to be "sneaky." When she stepped through the doorway, she seemed to be in rather good spirits today. There was no frown or scowl on her face, just a stoic expression with raised eyebrows. She was actually interested in why they'd been summoned here.

"Morning, marines." Rita said, looking over to Bernhard and giving him an upnod, before snapping to attention and giving a salute. "Sirs." Afterward, she pulled a seat out and carefully sat down, trying not to break the chair with by keeping her weight spread out evenly across the underside of her legs. Some of her weight was on her arms, which were folded flat against the table with her hands clasped in the center.

"So, what have we got, Admiral?"

Over the past two weeks, Rita been acclimating quite well to life in the 4th Fleet. She had made a few friends among the crewmen and even managed to have a laugh or two when one of them lent her a datapad novel called 101 Ways to Squish an Octobrain: The Definitive Guide to Combatting the Mishhuvurthyar Threat. It was, of course, a satirical novel, which espoused such methods as firing Mishhu out of black powder cannons into woodchippers, dismembering its tentacles before using the still-living remains as a sports ball, or hitting them with a laser-guided frying pan dropped from orbit.

Loud whistling could be heard from the hall before doors closed behind Rita. It was laso getting closer and closer only for its source ot appear in the doorway. Lisa stood at attention and saluted. Big honcho and her new sarge were there after all. She was not sure what to do now so she waited for either admiral or sergeant to put her at ease. Better safe then sorry, she though remembering as that asshole Captain Murderface put her on guard-duty when she could meet Aethersperm. She simply will have to take revenge on him one day for that.

"Have a seat, Marines. I won't start until the majority of your squad is here, Sergeant. And I'll give them... five more minutes. After that, they'll be standing guard duty, midnight shifts," Admiral Valken said to the small group without looking up from his notes.

He was double and triple checking that he had his notes and presentation ready. Even if he didn't, Valken felt that the efforts he made were probably wasted on these enlisted men. All they seemed to need was to be pointed at the enemy and told to kill. Which was probably why they were Marines.

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Bernhard grimaced at the sound of midnight shift guard duty. That meant standing outside at night and the week's forecast was rain showers every few hours. That was, in his mind, more depressing than standing in constant rain.

"Bernhard Greer, squad medic," he introduced himself to Lisa and extended a hand.

Cedric entered the room buried in his datapad, with a cigarette (as always) dangling from his lips. When he looked up from his datapad, he immediatelly stuffed it away in to a pocket, and gave a salute to the Admiral and Phaedra. He wasn't so stiff and formal as the newer members of the team seemed to be, but he was still going to be respectful of somebody who had the authority to end his career in a mere moment. Dropping the salute, he took a seat at the table across from Phaedra. He retrieved his datapad once more and held it lazily in his hand resting on the table while he leaned on his other arm, against the arm-rest of the chair he had taken. He looked to Phaedra and gave the squad leader a small nod.

"Sargn't. Good to see you're doing well since I was gone teachin' rookies." He smiled, "At least the squad doesn't seem full of too many holes that weren't here since I was last with all of you."

He then looked to Admiral Valken, "Sir. What do you have for us today?"

Naomi felt sick as she walked down the hallway behind Cedric to meet up with Admiral Valken and the rest of the squad. It wasn't any sickness brought on by fear, or by apprehension. No, she just felt queasy, almost like she'd eaten something bad recently.

Even so, that didn't stop the Marine from puffing away on a cigar, just like always. Some would say that would make her feel worse, but she'd ignore them. She was equally indifferent as to the reason behind having been summoned. It'd be a job of some kind, and they would get it done.

Entering the room behind Cedric and pausing to survey the occupants in her field of vision, Naomi snapped out a salute to the Admiral.

"Afternoon, sir," she said, before moving to take a place beside Cedric, a light trail of smoke following along as she went, as usual.

Valken looked up, putting names to faces. "Staff Sergeant, I do not like repeating myself. We will be waiting until everyone is here before I begin. And kindly put out your smokes, this is not a lounge."

If his reports were accurate, 4th Fleet might be able to pull off this operation and do some real damage to the NMX. But only if they got confirmation of it from the NMX themselves. Therein lay the trickier part and he wanted all of the Marines present before he started. Every detail was crucial and he really did not like repeating himself when it could be avoided.

Plus he also had some good news and that was always best kept for last. Valken returned to his papers.

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Laura Romero walked in and saluted before taking a seat next to Naomi. "Did I miss anything?" she whispered. Valken paid no attention to it.

Quickly behind her, Sawyer came in, panting. He had obviously been running to get here. He saluted the Admiral and took a seat when the Admiral continued poring over his paper notes.

Lisa walked to marine introducing himself as Bernard. She shook his hand, "Lisa Simmons, you can see the rank youreself. Dunno what I am yet." She responded and took a seat next to him. She felt like she is new in the classroom. Bernie was the nice kid who welcomed her. Next to him sat some young girl, both sergeants looked busy about themselves. Admiral was the headmaster who frowned on everyone and was all important. Well Lisa did not minded that much. She just hoped they are not hardasses.

"Fuck me." Curtis shivered slightly. He never really dealt well with cold environments. Even the slightly chilly air hanging in the hallway made him shiver, despite the mug of coffee he held in one hand. It must be my hair, he thought, reaching up to rub the base of his skull with his free hand.

I'm never going to shave it bald after wearing it long for almost a year, shit. As Curtis approached the door to the conference room, he tensed himself up in order to shed the relaxed attitude of someone his age and adopt the slightly nervous demeanor of a Private Third Class; still wet behind the years and barely removed from combat training.

As soon as the doors opened, Curtis absentmindedly raised his right hand to salute, only to lower it and transfer the cup of coffee into his other hand. "Private Third Class Kurt Francis, reporting as ordered, sir." Curtis saluted Admiral Valken, locked eyes with him, and took a seat behind Lisa, holding eye contact with the Admiral only briefly before breaking it to look down to put his cup on the ground.

I'm sure we'll be getting to know each other soon he thought, and while coming back up from putting his coffee down, reached forward to pinch whatever part of Lisa's butt that was unprotected by her seat. "Hey there, gorgeous. Do I get a kiss for saving your ass back in the simulation?"