A green-haired girl dressed in a semi-clean tank top, a heavy bomber jacket, loose pants, and a pair of heavy-soled shoes glanced down at the datapad in her hand for the hundredth time before looking up at the speaker where the announcement had come. Adjusting the large, grease-stained kerchief on her head to better cover her cat ears (having been sternly warned several times about the prejudices of Nepleslians against Nekos), Tweak picked up her small pack and made her way toward the Banning.

The metal trim on the edges of the crystal dog tags hanging from a cord around her neck jingled as she walked. The first of the tags carried a few more micro-etched portraits and messages from the crew of the Viscous Chicken, wishing her well. Tweak wished she wouldn't forget them, but she knew that she would. But this was an opportunity that none of them could pass up (though Error had continued to insist to the time Tweak boarded the shuttle on sending someone else). Here, though, she would have new machines to tinker with, plus she apparently already had a friend on board.

Arriving at the boarding area for the Banning, Tweak held her datapad out for the crew member at the entrance to check.

"Hello...I'm Tweak Three Seven, is this the transport heading to the Alliance?"

Valen looked up from whatever he was doing as Tweak tried to get his attention. The Geshrin smiled at her as he took the datapad from her. His slender fingers typed something into his own datapad, saying, "Alright, welcome aboard, Tweak. I'd say that I hope your stay is comfortable, but we kind of lack certain accomodations for that."

His smile was kind and respectful. He was curious why they would let a mere girl go into a battlezone, but the higher ups always had their reasons for everything. Valen then moved slightly to the side to let her aboard. He handed back her datapad since he had everything that was required from it.

Tweak smiled and bowed her head toward Valen in thanks, taking her datapad back and walking into the ship. She stopped, then turned back to Valen. "How long is the trip?"

Valen was just receiving a datapad from an ID-SOL when Tweak asked her question. He put up his hand for the large soldier to wait as he turned back to her, "Well, it depends on how well our engines work and if we have any trouble or not. Estimated time would be about two or three days, I believe." He smiled at her again before turning back to the impatient ID-SOL. That smile turned into a grimace as Valen finished registering the soldier.

"Oh. Thanks." Tweak walked to her quarters, following the directions on the datapad and set her pack on the bunk before seating herself there. Two or three days? She looked down at the book that was hanging from her belt and pulled it out. Producing a pen from her bag, she lay on her stomach on the bunk, scooting the pillow under her chest and elbows, and opened the book.

I guess I might need to take better notes about what I'm doing here. The trip might take two or more days, so it will be a while.

Don't freak out in the morning, alright? Keep your head down and your ears covered and you'll arrive where you need to be safely.

Valen continued to wait for people to check in. Only a few more needed to come aboard. Then, the NSS Banning could head out. Eventually, the freighter would have to leave... even if these last few soldiers do not arrive. Being behind in time is not a wonderful thing in the military, especially for a freighter with a supply mission to run to a ship in need.

The dock crew around the area the NSS Banning had landed suddenly sprung into action, lifting and transporting large, heavy crates of equipment into the holds of the Red Hill transport. A rather portly Nepleslia commanded them from the sidelines with a megaphone, blaring orders and obscenities as they loaded the enormous containers of NAM products.

Off to the side however, a large group of uniformed Nepleslian soldiers trotted up to Valen just as Tweak started leaving, two of them leading the pack in front of the rest. A large ID-SOL, giving beamed a rather goofy grin as he shifted the weight of his duffel bag slung over his shoulders, while a smaller, shorter Nepleslian with a wise-guy smirk on his face stepped up to the front to speak for the whole group.

"Hey kiddo, this here the NSS Banning? One going up to Kennewes?"

Valen nodded silently for a second. These guys seemed like trouble to him. "Yes," he finally said, "We are heading out to the NSS Alliance in Kennewes. You are coming aboard, I assume?" One hand extended out to receive the datapad of the first marine for confirmation. The red-haired communication specialist hoped that these hooligans didn't try anything stupid during the voyage... or right now for that matter.

The big ID-SOL behind the shorter Nepleslia grinned widely down to his smaller comrade, effortlessly shifting the massive duffel across his shoulders yet again. "Ya hear that, George? This is it, George! This is our ship!" The short, smart-mouthed Nepleslian shot a smirk up at the ID-SOL. "That's right Lenny, 'bout time they got here! We've been waiting fucking forever for this damn flight! Common boys, let's get settled in," George waved a hand forward and the rest of the marines filed in without question.

When they got to the passenger departments, the marines made no attempt to remain silent as they unpacked their things into the various bunks in the vessel. They shouted, joked, jived, head-butted and swore with reckless abandon...the usual fare of Nepleslian soldiers, for certain.

Valen was glad to see them leave. Unforunately, he knew that he'd have to spend two or three days with them aboard. The Geshrin sighed while he waited for the rest of the soldiers to come aboard the Banning.