Day 5
New Bernese
Fort Puckett
10:28
Corporal Timothy McClosky had finally been kicked out of the medical wing for flirting with enough nurses to probably be king of the jodies. He was stuck about halfway around, waiting on his refreshed orders while still being technically on leave. He wanted to get buzzed more than anything, as well as actually finding something to do as he suddenly felt he had to do something.
His thoughts wandered over to if he'd still be the gunner of the tank he was on, he didn't know. He felt he'd find out.
The sort of buzz McClosky got was not exactly the buzz he may have desired, the man's DataJockey roiled in a low buzz as he received a message from his command. The communication was sent with a priority notice:
Tim picked out his DataJockey and looked at the message. He raised an eyebrow to himself and then stowed his 'Jockey and looked around towards the hospital bay. He thought to himself that it would be better to go now than skate around it.
He decided to go, turning and walking to the bay. Once he reached it, he looked around before entering. Bay 62d was generally quiet this time of day, the resident Medic was likely doing inventory at this point. There were a few occupants sharing the room, a couple of militiamen lay sleeping on the bed, and a Yamataian-looking man sat behind a desk situated in the back of the bay. The one concious man in the room was pouring over a few dataslates and a small mound of paperwork.
His eyes glowed, and were black where they should have been white, he didn't seem to notice McClosky at the entryway.
Tim cleared his throat quietly, "Corporal McClosky reporting for crew assignment." His voice wasn't loud, just loud enough to be heard without purposefully waking the sleeping militiamen.
"Come in," ordered the narrow-faced man, a metal finger pointing towards a folding chair in front of his desk. There was a bullet hole through the back, that seemed to jut out inward. "Sit down."
Tim did as instructed, sitting up straight to avoid being pressed into the jutted metal. His brown eyes met the what he guessed were cybernetics of the second lieutenant. Tim himself had no real emotion on his face, having left it at the door.
"Corporal..."
Ticka, tacka, tacka... Metal fingers tapped on a DataJockey sitting in front of him. "Tim... othy... McClo... ski... Right."
A pair of glowing green eyes rose to meet Tim's, the officer in front of him had a severe expression on his face. Rather, his eyes seem to give such an impression as he took a breath and his severity melted away. He reached over the table and offered his gun-metal hand for a shake.
"Corporal McClosky," greeted the cyborg, "I am 2nd Lieutenant Chiaki, the new XO serving under Lieutenant Rickett here in the 309th Detachment here in Fort Pucket. We haven't had the chance to meet yet."
Tim took the hand, "Yeah, I've been here since first deployment and I've been in medical up until now getting my head looked at. I kinda broke my brain-case on one of the Max's interior bolts." He tapped on his right side of his head. "Kinda tickled."
After shaking his hand, Tim seemed to somewhat relax. "So, where'd the brass shove me sir?"
That hand fell flat onto the desk with a dull thud, "Stand-by on that, Corporal. I'm wearing three hats with you today. So we're going to be here for a while." He began to settle back on to his chair, throwing a glance over Tim's shoulder at the doorway, "Need to make a head-call?"
"I'm good for now, sir." Tim nodded as if to hammer in that he was good.
"That's good," Chiaki tugged open a drawer on the desk, and pulled out a couple of shot glasses and whiskey bottle, half-gone already. "Tell me..."
A black finger pointed at the three pads arrayed out, one white, one black, and one green. The 2LT's other hand seemed to be occupied in pouring himself a shot, of which his eyes joined in focusing so he didn't spill what precious stock he had. "You see these three pads on the table here?"
"Yes sir." He had absolutely no idea what they meant, just that they were colored pads.
"Thirsty?" Another question, this time, the bottle over the second glass.
Tim hesitated for a second, "If you're offering." He had the slight feeling that this was going to go in some direction that would either confuse him, or lead to him being reprimanded for drinking. The other half of him was glad there was suddenly booze. Thus, there was suddenly booze in his cup. Chiaki set the bottle down, and inched the shot to Tim to indicate it was truly his to drink.
"Most people these days don't take kindly to a quick drink like they used to, I feel like it relaxes the mind for these kinds of matters," the Officer raised the glass, and threw the shot back, then set the glass down, upside down.
Tim took the glass in his right hand and then mimicked the lieutenant to the letter. As he sat the glass down, "Makes you miss the old Corps, huh? Back in the old hovery Yam tanks and shit?"
"Back in the days when we were fighting for independence and against a threat with an unending thrist for death," grimly canted the Officer, picking up the white DataJockey and swiping the screen unlocked. Those glowing eyes looked up and down length of the device and then back at Tim. "Simpler times."
Clack. Kokuten blinked, "You know what these colors mean?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me regardless, sir." He was paying attention, the booze working its way around in his chest. His own eyes matched the lieutenant's cybernetics, blinking slowly.
"Smart man."
The white pad waggled in his hand, and Kokuten gave it a close look, "This is the Medical Dossier for the detachment, everyone's file is on this one. I'm the Medical Officer for the unit, so I get to review these. Tell me," Those green eyes turned yellow, "How long have you been off convalescence?"
"About forty-eight hours. They told me they sent someone off to get me refreshed orders but told me to hurry up and wait."
"It took you forty-eight hours to confirm that?"
Tim shrugged, "Hey, I'm just following what I was told. Might be that no one told me, might be that they lost my request for orders. I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay wasting time until something happens."
"Next time, don't sit on your hands," said Chiaki, tapping a couple things on the white pad. "I've had your orders since about..."
He tipped up the green pad and swiped it, and then set it back face down, "1842, yesterday. I had to find out about you from one of the nurses."
Tim didn't verbally say anything, but blinked in acknowledgement. Kokuten stared across the table at the Corporal meeting his acknowledge with a gaze that rolled back into a green color.
"Fort Puckett is still a mess right now," clarified Chiaki, setting aside the white datapad, "We're finding dead marines when they don't show up to muster. Most of our rosters are outdated, and the best thing I can go off of is a medical record."
The officer tugged at the black pad, setting it in his hand. He looked over at the bottle again, before going further. "Still thirsty?"
Tim knew that if you could share booze with an officer, you had the chance of staying on their good side. He flipped his glass over and scooted it towards Chiaki without saying a word. The motion was returned with a filled glass, which the Officer reflected on his end. He almost raised the glass up to his mouth to drink before he was interuptted by something.
There was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," Chiaki's brow furrowed, the black pad, and it the red eye on its lense-cap tapping on his palm.
Autumn smiled as she walked into the bay with a couple of datapads in her hands. "Hey! I finished that paperwork you asked for. Are you still drowning?" It was still hot or at least, she thought it was too hot, because she was only wearing her tanktop with her uniform pants, her blouse was absent, possibly disgarded in whatever room she had been doing paperwork in. She didn't seem to notice the newcomer for a moment. Dark green eyes moved to the new guy's face. "Oh! I am interrupting, sir?"
The officer took that moment to sip at his shot, bouncing his eyebrows in Tim's direction. Despite the heat, he was still in full uniform, his jacket tightly bound over his chest. "No, not at all, Corproal McClosky and I were commenting on the poor state of admin at the Fort, and about to drink to the Premier's health."
The slightly-sipped shot was set on the surface of the table, and his hand spun unnaturally to gesture to the junior-NCO. "McClosky, this is Private First Class Wilde, the detachment's new Admin Sergeant. As you can see, she does good work and walks around out of regs." He picked up his shot, and waggled his hand between them, "Wilde, McClosky; McClosky, Wilde."
And then he drank.
Tim looked over to the newcomer and simply nodded, "Pleasure." He then turned back to his glass and took the whole thing in one go just as before. He slightly rolled his head after he swallowed and then looked back to the lieutenant, "Now, where were we?"
The Geshrin demolitionist settled down in a chair and set the datapads in front of Chiaki. "Nice to meet you. It's also not out of regs, we've been over this. It's like... hot. The air conditioning is non-existent in my area, it's a health issue to keep all my clothes on," she replied cooly. "Paperwork shots?"
"Admin shots," clarified Chiaki, mindful of the Corporal's statement, but tossed a finger back at her, "Everyone in your work-center debloused too, or is it just you?"
"Everyone in my work area is debloused. I think it is a health hazard for you to remain bloused, sir. You might overheat, especially with the increased consumption of alcoholic beverages which will also increase your internal temperature. It would be untoward if the medical officer got heat stroke," she replied innocently enough with a grin.
Tim quietly scratched at his burn scar on his face while observing.
"You're not getting me to strip," retorted Chiaki.
"McClosky, are you hot? It might be an idea to deblouse, you don't want to overheat," She leaned forward on her hands and smiled at Tim.
Tim, being used to literally sitting in what was effectively a superheated sardine can shook his head, "I'm fine, though I... appreciate the sentiment." He adjusted himself in his seat and leaned against one side of the chair while still maintaining his posture.
"McClosky's not paper-thin, he can stand a little heat."
"So you don't want to show him your sweet 'netics?" Autumn asked. Her gaze drifted over to Tim again.
"Corporal McClosky," Rapid-fire, and deadpan, Chiaki looked over at Tim, "You care to see my arms?"
"Keep pouring me this stuff and you can fucking dance and I'll watch like I paid to do so." He rolled up the sleeve, "I mean, at least half of me is cybernetic because of this last big romp but I covered it all up."
The Executive Officer stared at Tim with a face that seemed indicate offense. He looked over at Autumn, and then back at Tim again. Then...
Thud! Chiaki slapped the table, and began to laugh, "Listen to this guy! That's the first Marinism I've heard out of anyone's mouth since I got here. Alright, you win." The tense man conducting the one-on-one-now-three rolled his shoulders and let off his jacket. Then, he tugged off his turtleneck, exposing a pair of gun-metal black arms. Each stretched from a helmeted head from the shoulder, and were inscribed in knightly regalia.
The black pad had been set aside for just a moment, before Chiaki picked it up again, and swiped it unlocked, still chuckling. "Seriously, though, we're going to need to talk about your brother."
"Yeah, I didn't even know that he wasn't back in Francia City, I've not been home to the ranch in years. I just keep up with Ma through mail and stuff. He's always been a little strange since Dad died, though that was years ago. If he's so willing to do something that fucking stupid while being a fucking cop, he's fucking fucked."
Tim then turned his attention to the man's cybernetics, "Also, you're my fucking hero."
Kokuten grinned, he seemed to appreciate that.
Autumn smiled brightly. "Is his brother a marine too?"
"No, he was a cop in both Funky City and this little podunk world called Francia. That's about all I really know about him that is somewhat relevent." Tim looked back to Chiaki while waiting for him to put in his two cents on what that pad told him.
"You haven't spoken to him in... say... The last six, seventh months?" asked Chiaki, looking down first at the pad, and then at Tim.
"Last I spoke to him was late YE 38, almost a year ago." Tim didn't seem to look too concerned, he had nothing to do with his older brother.
"Parents? Relatives? Friends? Anyone mention him to you?"
"Mom got kinda worried but then again, she bleeds green, blue, and white as much as I do so he might as well have died probably." Tim was beginning to get curious, "Why?"
"Wilde, step outside for a minute."
"All rightly." Autumn hopped up again and walked out the door, making sure it was closed behind her. Ensuring that the other two occupants in the Med-Bay both seemed asleep enough, the officer settled in and tapped at his pad.
He took a deep breath. "Your brother isn't on Francia anymore, son."
Tim only raised an eyebrow.
"Dallas McClosky, wanted dead, 1,000,000 DA reward as issued by the Democratic Imperium of Nepleslia. Crimes include manslaughter, theft of government property, destruction of governement property and..." The cyborg broke away from the datapad to speak out the last one, instead of read it, "Treason."
Tim shook his head, "Fuck him, he's always been fucking weird. I guess he's got himself a deathwish if he decided to appear back home for cookies. We fought for independece, Dad died to make sure we were green and free, and he decided to go and throw it away? Fuck him."
The passive noise in the medical bay became louder in the silence that followed that statement. Tim's executive officer stared at him with a whitened gaze, that changed blue, and then eventually to green. Slowly, the black pad was addressed, and then set down to the edge of the table.
Then, he stood, one hand planted on the table, another extended for a shake, "Son, it's marines like you that are my heroes."
Tim stood and took his hand, "Proud to serve my Imperium, it's the family business." He grinned, "Now that we've tackled the white and black, shall we move on to the green with one final round?"
"Yeah, one second," the higher ranking man reached into his drawer and pulled out another shot glass. It was a wonder how many he had stowed away. "Wilde! You're good! Come on in!"
Autumn returned to the room and returned to her chair. "All good?"
"Better than good," Chiaki came to his seat as well, scooping his bottle of stashed liquor, "We're going to drink to McClosky's orders and file them. After they're read out, that is."
"Ooh, this is always fun. Are you taking a drink for every line break or every time they refer to some obscure administrative order?" She continued to smile brightly. "You've taken to color coding your datpads now?"
"I've got so many of them, that if I don't, they all get mixed up." That was said with a grumble, as the color-coding administrating officer began to pour out the shots.
"You should let me help you more of the administrative paperwork, but that doesn't answer the question, line breaks or obscure administrative order?" Autumn replied with a smile.
As the lieutenant poured his glass he leaned back in his chair, seeming to have grown comfortable enough to actually do so. The Corporal grinned, "Sounds like a fucking party to me either way."
"I hate to disappoint you kids, but," The green pad was unlocked and shown to the two of them rather clearly. It was an e-mail, the signature indicated it was the brigade commander, by recommendation of Lieutenant Rickett. "It's just an e-mail, no special drinking games. Also you'd end up drinking all my whiskey, and I'm not having that."
A pointed, glowing look was throw in Autumn's direction, before he turned the pad around to look at the contents, "Corporal McClosky, you are here-by assigned under the 309th Detachment to enhance battle-space supremacy and maximize logistic reach as Armored Personnel Carrier Commander of Jackelope-2837491D."
The Second Lieutenant set down the pad, "In short, you're being assigned a piece of Nepleslian Space Marine Corps equipment, which..."
He picked up one of the pads Autumn had just brought in, and offered it to Tim, "... Wilde just got done sorting out for us. Look it over, it's your formal AoR chit stating you're assuming command of a vehicle, and that you're ready and willing to accept the responsibility."
Tim took his glass and took what he believed was his last shot of the lieutenant's whiskey before setting the glass back down upside-down. "First of all, until I figure out what to call it, Jackelope will work for now." He took the pad handed to him and began scanning over it somewhat quickly.
He spoke without looking up, "Guess I'm either running spare shit or spare bodies, correct?"
"That's right, you'll be pushing up through harder areas, carrying our unit around. You'll be taking orders from me, but Lieutenant Rickett might need you to support the tank every now and then."
Autumn scooped up her shot glass and rolled it in her hands for a moment, vaguely remembering what the weight of the glass felt like at another point of time, before she drank it and set the glass lightly down on the table again. "Didn't you want these forms in triplicate? He just needs to tap the signature box 3 times unless you really want more datapads..."
As he threw his drink back, Chiaki pointed a finger at Autumn, and then pointed at Tim, "Three times. I get any more datapads, and I'm going to start using them as coasters."
"Gotta love the Corps and their damn paperwork." Tim electronically signed in triplicate, then placed the pad back on the desk next to his overturned glass. "Well, it's a damn sight better than sitting around waiting for shit to do. Where is it?"
"Private Autumn!" Chiaki tapped his glass down onto the table, "Where did the Material Access Records place Corporal McClosky's Jackelope?"
"Should be in that thing they call the garage here, it's in ready status. It needs a minute amount of maintenance," the former armorer replied. "Also needs a good cleaning, that mud gets everywhere."
The officer made a surly face as he gathered up the glasses and set them next to his bottle, "I don't blame the tech sentries after the mess the last crew left in there, but at least they made sure all the damage was repaired."
"I'll get someone to clean it if they left everything still inside. I deliver death, not ride with it." Tim looked out towards the tent door and then back at the Chiaki and Autumn, "Anyone fancy an investigation?"
"I'm stuck in this desk until EoB today, I've got to shake down a few more Marines for their PHAs and medical assessments." With a shrug, he began to organize his desk space back into a ready state. "Wilde can run it with you, though, provided she's back in time for said PHA and about thirty medical assessments."
Autumn rose and grinned, "Of course, I wouldn't dream of missing an assessment with you, Doc. I guess, I can even grab my crew jacket..."
"I'll meet you at the garage." Tim looked to the lieutenant and gave a small grin, "Permission to depart from your tent, sir?" He sounded more like he was respecting a formality than anything.
"Dimissed, Corporal." Tim stood out, gave a very marine and very half-assed salute and walked out, bound for the motor pool.
Autumn watched Tim walk out the door for a moment, lingering at the desk. "Really, 30? That sounds like it might just take all night," she met Chiaki's eyelights with a grin. "What time is my appointment then?"
"1300," sharply answered the Medical Officer, giving an amber colored stare back at her smile. "I told you I'd make you make them up."
"You're definitely getting used to me, you didn't turn pink this time," Autumn winked as she headed out. "1300 then!" She called over her shoulder and made the turn to retrieve her jacket.
As she made her way out, the Officer stared down at his work, a pink light reflecting off the darkened screen.
New Bernese
Fort Puckett
10:28
Corporal Timothy McClosky had finally been kicked out of the medical wing for flirting with enough nurses to probably be king of the jodies. He was stuck about halfway around, waiting on his refreshed orders while still being technically on leave. He wanted to get buzzed more than anything, as well as actually finding something to do as he suddenly felt he had to do something.
His thoughts wandered over to if he'd still be the gunner of the tank he was on, he didn't know. He felt he'd find out.
The sort of buzz McClosky got was not exactly the buzz he may have desired, the man's DataJockey roiled in a low buzz as he received a message from his command. The communication was sent with a priority notice:
2LT CHIAKI KOKUTEN FP NEW BERNESE 309TH said:
Tim picked out his DataJockey and looked at the message. He raised an eyebrow to himself and then stowed his 'Jockey and looked around towards the hospital bay. He thought to himself that it would be better to go now than skate around it.
He decided to go, turning and walking to the bay. Once he reached it, he looked around before entering. Bay 62d was generally quiet this time of day, the resident Medic was likely doing inventory at this point. There were a few occupants sharing the room, a couple of militiamen lay sleeping on the bed, and a Yamataian-looking man sat behind a desk situated in the back of the bay. The one concious man in the room was pouring over a few dataslates and a small mound of paperwork.
His eyes glowed, and were black where they should have been white, he didn't seem to notice McClosky at the entryway.
Tim cleared his throat quietly, "Corporal McClosky reporting for crew assignment." His voice wasn't loud, just loud enough to be heard without purposefully waking the sleeping militiamen.
"Come in," ordered the narrow-faced man, a metal finger pointing towards a folding chair in front of his desk. There was a bullet hole through the back, that seemed to jut out inward. "Sit down."
Tim did as instructed, sitting up straight to avoid being pressed into the jutted metal. His brown eyes met the what he guessed were cybernetics of the second lieutenant. Tim himself had no real emotion on his face, having left it at the door.
"Corporal..."
Ticka, tacka, tacka... Metal fingers tapped on a DataJockey sitting in front of him. "Tim... othy... McClo... ski... Right."
A pair of glowing green eyes rose to meet Tim's, the officer in front of him had a severe expression on his face. Rather, his eyes seem to give such an impression as he took a breath and his severity melted away. He reached over the table and offered his gun-metal hand for a shake.
"Corporal McClosky," greeted the cyborg, "I am 2nd Lieutenant Chiaki, the new XO serving under Lieutenant Rickett here in the 309th Detachment here in Fort Pucket. We haven't had the chance to meet yet."
Tim took the hand, "Yeah, I've been here since first deployment and I've been in medical up until now getting my head looked at. I kinda broke my brain-case on one of the Max's interior bolts." He tapped on his right side of his head. "Kinda tickled."
After shaking his hand, Tim seemed to somewhat relax. "So, where'd the brass shove me sir?"
That hand fell flat onto the desk with a dull thud, "Stand-by on that, Corporal. I'm wearing three hats with you today. So we're going to be here for a while." He began to settle back on to his chair, throwing a glance over Tim's shoulder at the doorway, "Need to make a head-call?"
"I'm good for now, sir." Tim nodded as if to hammer in that he was good.
"That's good," Chiaki tugged open a drawer on the desk, and pulled out a couple of shot glasses and whiskey bottle, half-gone already. "Tell me..."
A black finger pointed at the three pads arrayed out, one white, one black, and one green. The 2LT's other hand seemed to be occupied in pouring himself a shot, of which his eyes joined in focusing so he didn't spill what precious stock he had. "You see these three pads on the table here?"
"Yes sir." He had absolutely no idea what they meant, just that they were colored pads.
"Thirsty?" Another question, this time, the bottle over the second glass.
Tim hesitated for a second, "If you're offering." He had the slight feeling that this was going to go in some direction that would either confuse him, or lead to him being reprimanded for drinking. The other half of him was glad there was suddenly booze. Thus, there was suddenly booze in his cup. Chiaki set the bottle down, and inched the shot to Tim to indicate it was truly his to drink.
"Most people these days don't take kindly to a quick drink like they used to, I feel like it relaxes the mind for these kinds of matters," the Officer raised the glass, and threw the shot back, then set the glass down, upside down.
Tim took the glass in his right hand and then mimicked the lieutenant to the letter. As he sat the glass down, "Makes you miss the old Corps, huh? Back in the old hovery Yam tanks and shit?"
"Back in the days when we were fighting for independence and against a threat with an unending thrist for death," grimly canted the Officer, picking up the white DataJockey and swiping the screen unlocked. Those glowing eyes looked up and down length of the device and then back at Tim. "Simpler times."
Clack. Kokuten blinked, "You know what these colors mean?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me regardless, sir." He was paying attention, the booze working its way around in his chest. His own eyes matched the lieutenant's cybernetics, blinking slowly.
"Smart man."
The white pad waggled in his hand, and Kokuten gave it a close look, "This is the Medical Dossier for the detachment, everyone's file is on this one. I'm the Medical Officer for the unit, so I get to review these. Tell me," Those green eyes turned yellow, "How long have you been off convalescence?"
"About forty-eight hours. They told me they sent someone off to get me refreshed orders but told me to hurry up and wait."
"It took you forty-eight hours to confirm that?"
Tim shrugged, "Hey, I'm just following what I was told. Might be that no one told me, might be that they lost my request for orders. I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay wasting time until something happens."
"Next time, don't sit on your hands," said Chiaki, tapping a couple things on the white pad. "I've had your orders since about..."
He tipped up the green pad and swiped it, and then set it back face down, "1842, yesterday. I had to find out about you from one of the nurses."
Tim didn't verbally say anything, but blinked in acknowledgement. Kokuten stared across the table at the Corporal meeting his acknowledge with a gaze that rolled back into a green color.
"Fort Puckett is still a mess right now," clarified Chiaki, setting aside the white datapad, "We're finding dead marines when they don't show up to muster. Most of our rosters are outdated, and the best thing I can go off of is a medical record."
The officer tugged at the black pad, setting it in his hand. He looked over at the bottle again, before going further. "Still thirsty?"
Tim knew that if you could share booze with an officer, you had the chance of staying on their good side. He flipped his glass over and scooted it towards Chiaki without saying a word. The motion was returned with a filled glass, which the Officer reflected on his end. He almost raised the glass up to his mouth to drink before he was interuptted by something.
There was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," Chiaki's brow furrowed, the black pad, and it the red eye on its lense-cap tapping on his palm.
Autumn smiled as she walked into the bay with a couple of datapads in her hands. "Hey! I finished that paperwork you asked for. Are you still drowning?" It was still hot or at least, she thought it was too hot, because she was only wearing her tanktop with her uniform pants, her blouse was absent, possibly disgarded in whatever room she had been doing paperwork in. She didn't seem to notice the newcomer for a moment. Dark green eyes moved to the new guy's face. "Oh! I am interrupting, sir?"
The officer took that moment to sip at his shot, bouncing his eyebrows in Tim's direction. Despite the heat, he was still in full uniform, his jacket tightly bound over his chest. "No, not at all, Corproal McClosky and I were commenting on the poor state of admin at the Fort, and about to drink to the Premier's health."
The slightly-sipped shot was set on the surface of the table, and his hand spun unnaturally to gesture to the junior-NCO. "McClosky, this is Private First Class Wilde, the detachment's new Admin Sergeant. As you can see, she does good work and walks around out of regs." He picked up his shot, and waggled his hand between them, "Wilde, McClosky; McClosky, Wilde."
And then he drank.
Tim looked over to the newcomer and simply nodded, "Pleasure." He then turned back to his glass and took the whole thing in one go just as before. He slightly rolled his head after he swallowed and then looked back to the lieutenant, "Now, where were we?"
The Geshrin demolitionist settled down in a chair and set the datapads in front of Chiaki. "Nice to meet you. It's also not out of regs, we've been over this. It's like... hot. The air conditioning is non-existent in my area, it's a health issue to keep all my clothes on," she replied cooly. "Paperwork shots?"
"Admin shots," clarified Chiaki, mindful of the Corporal's statement, but tossed a finger back at her, "Everyone in your work-center debloused too, or is it just you?"
"Everyone in my work area is debloused. I think it is a health hazard for you to remain bloused, sir. You might overheat, especially with the increased consumption of alcoholic beverages which will also increase your internal temperature. It would be untoward if the medical officer got heat stroke," she replied innocently enough with a grin.
Tim quietly scratched at his burn scar on his face while observing.
"You're not getting me to strip," retorted Chiaki.
"McClosky, are you hot? It might be an idea to deblouse, you don't want to overheat," She leaned forward on her hands and smiled at Tim.
Tim, being used to literally sitting in what was effectively a superheated sardine can shook his head, "I'm fine, though I... appreciate the sentiment." He adjusted himself in his seat and leaned against one side of the chair while still maintaining his posture.
"McClosky's not paper-thin, he can stand a little heat."
"So you don't want to show him your sweet 'netics?" Autumn asked. Her gaze drifted over to Tim again.
"Corporal McClosky," Rapid-fire, and deadpan, Chiaki looked over at Tim, "You care to see my arms?"
"Keep pouring me this stuff and you can fucking dance and I'll watch like I paid to do so." He rolled up the sleeve, "I mean, at least half of me is cybernetic because of this last big romp but I covered it all up."
The Executive Officer stared at Tim with a face that seemed indicate offense. He looked over at Autumn, and then back at Tim again. Then...
Thud! Chiaki slapped the table, and began to laugh, "Listen to this guy! That's the first Marinism I've heard out of anyone's mouth since I got here. Alright, you win." The tense man conducting the one-on-one-now-three rolled his shoulders and let off his jacket. Then, he tugged off his turtleneck, exposing a pair of gun-metal black arms. Each stretched from a helmeted head from the shoulder, and were inscribed in knightly regalia.
The black pad had been set aside for just a moment, before Chiaki picked it up again, and swiped it unlocked, still chuckling. "Seriously, though, we're going to need to talk about your brother."
"Yeah, I didn't even know that he wasn't back in Francia City, I've not been home to the ranch in years. I just keep up with Ma through mail and stuff. He's always been a little strange since Dad died, though that was years ago. If he's so willing to do something that fucking stupid while being a fucking cop, he's fucking fucked."
Tim then turned his attention to the man's cybernetics, "Also, you're my fucking hero."
Kokuten grinned, he seemed to appreciate that.
Autumn smiled brightly. "Is his brother a marine too?"
"No, he was a cop in both Funky City and this little podunk world called Francia. That's about all I really know about him that is somewhat relevent." Tim looked back to Chiaki while waiting for him to put in his two cents on what that pad told him.
"You haven't spoken to him in... say... The last six, seventh months?" asked Chiaki, looking down first at the pad, and then at Tim.
"Last I spoke to him was late YE 38, almost a year ago." Tim didn't seem to look too concerned, he had nothing to do with his older brother.
"Parents? Relatives? Friends? Anyone mention him to you?"
"Mom got kinda worried but then again, she bleeds green, blue, and white as much as I do so he might as well have died probably." Tim was beginning to get curious, "Why?"
"Wilde, step outside for a minute."
"All rightly." Autumn hopped up again and walked out the door, making sure it was closed behind her. Ensuring that the other two occupants in the Med-Bay both seemed asleep enough, the officer settled in and tapped at his pad.
He took a deep breath. "Your brother isn't on Francia anymore, son."
Tim only raised an eyebrow.
"Dallas McClosky, wanted dead, 1,000,000 DA reward as issued by the Democratic Imperium of Nepleslia. Crimes include manslaughter, theft of government property, destruction of governement property and..." The cyborg broke away from the datapad to speak out the last one, instead of read it, "Treason."
Tim shook his head, "Fuck him, he's always been fucking weird. I guess he's got himself a deathwish if he decided to appear back home for cookies. We fought for independece, Dad died to make sure we were green and free, and he decided to go and throw it away? Fuck him."
The passive noise in the medical bay became louder in the silence that followed that statement. Tim's executive officer stared at him with a whitened gaze, that changed blue, and then eventually to green. Slowly, the black pad was addressed, and then set down to the edge of the table.
Then, he stood, one hand planted on the table, another extended for a shake, "Son, it's marines like you that are my heroes."
Tim stood and took his hand, "Proud to serve my Imperium, it's the family business." He grinned, "Now that we've tackled the white and black, shall we move on to the green with one final round?"
"Yeah, one second," the higher ranking man reached into his drawer and pulled out another shot glass. It was a wonder how many he had stowed away. "Wilde! You're good! Come on in!"
Autumn returned to the room and returned to her chair. "All good?"
"Better than good," Chiaki came to his seat as well, scooping his bottle of stashed liquor, "We're going to drink to McClosky's orders and file them. After they're read out, that is."
"Ooh, this is always fun. Are you taking a drink for every line break or every time they refer to some obscure administrative order?" She continued to smile brightly. "You've taken to color coding your datpads now?"
"I've got so many of them, that if I don't, they all get mixed up." That was said with a grumble, as the color-coding administrating officer began to pour out the shots.
"You should let me help you more of the administrative paperwork, but that doesn't answer the question, line breaks or obscure administrative order?" Autumn replied with a smile.
As the lieutenant poured his glass he leaned back in his chair, seeming to have grown comfortable enough to actually do so. The Corporal grinned, "Sounds like a fucking party to me either way."
"I hate to disappoint you kids, but," The green pad was unlocked and shown to the two of them rather clearly. It was an e-mail, the signature indicated it was the brigade commander, by recommendation of Lieutenant Rickett. "It's just an e-mail, no special drinking games. Also you'd end up drinking all my whiskey, and I'm not having that."
A pointed, glowing look was throw in Autumn's direction, before he turned the pad around to look at the contents, "Corporal McClosky, you are here-by assigned under the 309th Detachment to enhance battle-space supremacy and maximize logistic reach as Armored Personnel Carrier Commander of Jackelope-2837491D."
The Second Lieutenant set down the pad, "In short, you're being assigned a piece of Nepleslian Space Marine Corps equipment, which..."
He picked up one of the pads Autumn had just brought in, and offered it to Tim, "... Wilde just got done sorting out for us. Look it over, it's your formal AoR chit stating you're assuming command of a vehicle, and that you're ready and willing to accept the responsibility."
Tim took his glass and took what he believed was his last shot of the lieutenant's whiskey before setting the glass back down upside-down. "First of all, until I figure out what to call it, Jackelope will work for now." He took the pad handed to him and began scanning over it somewhat quickly.
He spoke without looking up, "Guess I'm either running spare shit or spare bodies, correct?"
"That's right, you'll be pushing up through harder areas, carrying our unit around. You'll be taking orders from me, but Lieutenant Rickett might need you to support the tank every now and then."
Autumn scooped up her shot glass and rolled it in her hands for a moment, vaguely remembering what the weight of the glass felt like at another point of time, before she drank it and set the glass lightly down on the table again. "Didn't you want these forms in triplicate? He just needs to tap the signature box 3 times unless you really want more datapads..."
As he threw his drink back, Chiaki pointed a finger at Autumn, and then pointed at Tim, "Three times. I get any more datapads, and I'm going to start using them as coasters."
"Gotta love the Corps and their damn paperwork." Tim electronically signed in triplicate, then placed the pad back on the desk next to his overturned glass. "Well, it's a damn sight better than sitting around waiting for shit to do. Where is it?"
"Private Autumn!" Chiaki tapped his glass down onto the table, "Where did the Material Access Records place Corporal McClosky's Jackelope?"
"Should be in that thing they call the garage here, it's in ready status. It needs a minute amount of maintenance," the former armorer replied. "Also needs a good cleaning, that mud gets everywhere."
The officer made a surly face as he gathered up the glasses and set them next to his bottle, "I don't blame the tech sentries after the mess the last crew left in there, but at least they made sure all the damage was repaired."
"I'll get someone to clean it if they left everything still inside. I deliver death, not ride with it." Tim looked out towards the tent door and then back at the Chiaki and Autumn, "Anyone fancy an investigation?"
"I'm stuck in this desk until EoB today, I've got to shake down a few more Marines for their PHAs and medical assessments." With a shrug, he began to organize his desk space back into a ready state. "Wilde can run it with you, though, provided she's back in time for said PHA and about thirty medical assessments."
Autumn rose and grinned, "Of course, I wouldn't dream of missing an assessment with you, Doc. I guess, I can even grab my crew jacket..."
"I'll meet you at the garage." Tim looked to the lieutenant and gave a small grin, "Permission to depart from your tent, sir?" He sounded more like he was respecting a formality than anything.
"Dimissed, Corporal." Tim stood out, gave a very marine and very half-assed salute and walked out, bound for the motor pool.
Autumn watched Tim walk out the door for a moment, lingering at the desk. "Really, 30? That sounds like it might just take all night," she met Chiaki's eyelights with a grin. "What time is my appointment then?"
"1300," sharply answered the Medical Officer, giving an amber colored stare back at her smile. "I told you I'd make you make them up."
"You're definitely getting used to me, you didn't turn pink this time," Autumn winked as she headed out. "1300 then!" She called over her shoulder and made the turn to retrieve her jacket.
As she made her way out, the Officer stared down at his work, a pink light reflecting off the darkened screen.
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