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RP Grün-Boot: Scrubs

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CadetNewb

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Nepleslian basic training was the stuff of legend.

Here, it was one of the few instances where the movie industry was actually accurate with its portrayals. The training by itself was exhausting, but it went much further than that - it was all about breaking a person, and making them into the raw scrap needed to build a powerful, reliable military machine. This meant stripping a person of human dignity. Most people wouldn't realize it, but eating when the Marines told you to, wearing what the Marines told you to, sleeping and even shitting when the Marines told you to was in and of itself completely and utterly degrading. The fact was that all independence and individual thinking was stripped away. It went hand in hand with the harsh basic training that would have them all understand the fundamentals of being a marine. But on top of all this?

Drill Instructors. They yelled, and yelled with the precision of an orbital strike aimed at the crotch. And one was yelling right now.

"BOOTS! UP! NOW!" a massive, seven and a half foot tall giant roared. Powerful and muscular, he could have easily pulled people straight out of their bunks with his meaty hands, but kept right on at it, yelling directly into some people's ears as the Klaxons blared. They only came near to drowning out the Drill Sergeant's bellowing voice. Nearly. The entire ship they were training in was practically turned upside down as the trainees, dirt tired from the previous field exercise, began to rise. All around their barracks, they could see, hear and even feel the real, actual crew of the ship burst to life to take their stations.

"THIS ISN'T SOME KIDDY GRADE DRILL! YOU'RE ALL BEING SENT STRAIGHT TO HELL, SO SOUND OFF!"

It was an eventful third week.
 
Kara opened her eyes. Was it morning already? She could not have go to sleep sooner then just few hours ago. Why was instructor going at them like this already? Still the geshring spend a lot of time in the marines already, training like supposed to and going to detention every now and then for having a bit of a mouth. It was not in her papers yet, except few minor stuff. Kara jumped to her feet and stood at a position by the thing that was supposedly a bed.

"Hopefully soon to be Private Third Class Kara Yamamoto!" Kara sounded off as ordered.
 
A flash of blinding white light entered Dehy's eyes, he grind in response to the over-exposure of light to his unadjusted cornea. He Immediately realized what woke him up from his uneventful slumber. Swiftly he trampled and stumbled over himself as he eventually got to his feet. Mumbling to himself " So this is why people believe in Jesus". He quickly amplified his voice to an audible level shouting in a deep mellow voice

"UPCOMING PRIVATE THIRD CLASS DEHY DIEBS DEMOLITIONS EXPERT SIR!!!"
 
Edmund Ablerich's bunk was the furthest away from the entrance and was in such a deep slumber from exhaustion that it would take a bomb to wake him up. Unfortunately that is exactly what a Drill Instructor sounds like when he sounds off. Instinct kicked in the moment the Drill Instructor started speaking, causing the man to shoot out of bed like a rocket. The man looked fully alert and anxious to move despite the bags under his eyes. It was part of his responsibility as squad leader to fake motivation no matter how he felt. He could see that a few of those around him were slow t react so he decided to 'assist' in waking them up by giving them a swift boot to their feet to get them up until the Drill Instructor told them to sound off.

Calmly, Edmund walked in front of his bunk to assume the position of attention and confidently responded. "Alpha one-one, Ablerich, Edmund, sir!" The man gave his call-sign to the Drill Instructor as per procedure, indicating that he was from Alpha Company, First Platoon, First Squad Leader. He had been selected for a leadership position amongst the privates previously and acted a bit of a liaison between the Drill Instructors and the class. Now he wondered if that title would stick with whatever was occurring now.
 
Despite all the time she had spent in both medical and military training, Rei felt incredibly out of place around her peers. There was something terribly uncomfortable about submitting yourself to the will of your homeland and your superiors. The Jiyuuian in her protested mentally against the barrage of unintentional insults that were made to her more 'peaceful' state of being. The redheaded doctor was sitting on her bunk meditating when the alarm began to blare in a long even pattern. Reluctantly Rei opened her eyes, her eyes narrowing slightly at the shouting instructor. Apparently she was taking to long to get moving, because Edmund fancypants gave her foot a gentle kick to remind her to get up. She methodically began to stretch her limbs before getting to her feet. It was hard not to be annoyed with all the unnecessary noise in the room. Maintaining a solemn expression she stepped into her boots and laced them before falling into line next to that rich kid, Ablerich. The boy seemed as eager to make himself look good as ever, though she wasn't sure kicking your comrades feet would be a quality most people in their unit would look up to. Rei supposed she couldn't blame him, If he could maintain his position by making the higher ups happy he could find himself moving up the military ladder quite easily.

Forcing a grim smile she straightened her back and cleared her throat slowly. "Rei Witman, Private Third Class." She kept her response curt so she wouldn't have to shout over the alarm for long. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on out there. They had only just finished drilling. If this situation wasn't as serious as their instructor claimed she might take offense.
 
Sometimes joining the military feels like a mistake, this is exactly one of those times. Edward liked his sleep, it was a time of peace and tranquility away from training around them, if it wasn't for the alarms, drill instructors and shouting privates he would have held onto the land of nod a little tighter but it was not too be as he dragged himself out of bed. Standing himself up he looked around at everyone else with dread, turning to face the front he shouted as loud as he could muster, "Low, Edward. Private Third Class", it wasn't much but it would do.
 
"Now," the DI's voice ominously began, lifting the edge of his campaign hat to reveal silver-gray temples, "I don't have time for the lot of you, so I'll give you all the Tee El Dee Arr version - you can all toss those half assed, kiddy grade positions you took turns having in funland right out the window, because at this point, you're gonna be walking rifles!" he spoke, pacing up and down the rows of bunks. Despite the calmness of his words, the DI's voice was Authority incarnate, standing above all other noise in the barracks. "Right now, your training groups, your planned out occupations-to-be, are nothing! No specializations - you've just graduated! Now MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" he bellowed at them all, furiously pointing towards another DI that started running as their lead.
 
In this situation, standing around was a mistake. Kara shouted a good old "SIR YES SIR!" and started running. She wondered if this was finally the time. After long months in the training will they be given offical ranks, uniforms and become proper soldiers? Kara hoped so, because if she would not make it through it would be jail-time for her and that did not sounds like something too enjoyable.
 
Edmund immediately turned towards the door and started a bit of a jog towards the door. Naturally there was a bottleneck so he could only go so fast but he was fine with this. It gave him time to think about what was going on. It seemed that he was no longer going to be anything more than a grunt with a rifle. That was a preferable position to him at this point as he really didn't want to think at this moment. He was too tired to think. Not only that, he had no idea what he was doing. Chances were that he'd get somebody killed if they were going to see real action and that is the last thing he wanted weighing on his conscious at the moment.
 
Terrence fell into formation and sounded off, he was so used to the practice that waking up and doing that was something like an auto-pilot. Another thing that he had also gotten used to was the lack of sleep, to which he made up with the much needed skill to nap while standing, on briefings or standing in formation. The rest was just about being as low-profile as he could be so he didn't get any more than his fair share of flak from the instructors.

The private went through the same routine as the others recruits, after the the other marines after sounding off like instructor commanded to
 
"All Marines To Battle Stations. I Repeat, All Marines to Battle Stations - This Is Not A Drill."

The Captain's voice reverberated through the entirety of the ship again as the trainees ran through the metal halls. Everywhere, the sleepy vessel they called home for the past few months had transformed into an upturned anthill of activity as every single square inch of it came to life. The ship was drowned in red as klaxons continued to wail. Weapon and ammunition lockers placed into the walls automatically unlocked their contents for the crew, while the various support personnel swarmed through the ship and took up positions, ready to fight breaches and damage to the ship. Before they could take in any more, faint tremors shook the ship. "Really?" The younger DI leading them all glanced back to the Drill Sergeant.

"The main guns - there's something big out there!" he yelled back over the noise.

The group being herded soon rounded a corner and passed through a pair of doors which slid out of the way. Immediately, they could hear nothing over the sound of metal being cut and welded. All around them, the walls of the room were filled with racks for power armors and their weapons; worn yet battle tested, they stood there like ominous statues waiting to burst into life. Directly in front of them however, were numerous aisles, with a handful of Junker Drones making their way about, busily working like mechanical insects. The Marine regulars were crowded around the platforms of each, all waiting for their own turn - from where the Boots stood, they could see assembly columns springing up from the corners of each platform's armatures to bring up freshly made frameworks, components and armored plates from the floor below.

New suits were quickly built around their bodies as both the drones and mechanical arms worked in unison, the completed Hostiles and VOIDs marching off their assembly platforms and into the staging area beyond. But those new suits weren't for them. The older Drill Instructor jabbed a finger at the older, already made Hostiles that were being handed down to them all, and spoke, his words washed out by the noise of construction before going to one. The Hostile opened up from the front, its chest plate swinging up and out of the way while the plates of the rest went to the sides.

All it needed, was someone to step into those boots.
 
"Looks like Yule came early this year." Edmund joked as he tapped Dehy in the stomach while flashing a pearly white grin. The man then turned towards the Hostile that awaited a pilot. He stepped up to the suit like the numerous training missions he had before but this time felt different. Before there wasn't any real danger he was heading into, there was no hesitation. Now the Ablerich felt a touch of apprehension as he suited up the Hostile power armor. A functions check was initiated to get his mind off of the situation at hand. Everything appeared to be operating within acceptable parameters. 'Damn,' Edmund thought to himself. 'Looks like there is no getting out of this.'

Satisfied by the results of the function check, Edmund began moving to the staging area to allow everyone else suit up.
 
Dehy jogged briskly to the nearest available Hositle armor. With a small tear in his eye it was hard to tell whether Dehy was crying for his life as well as this lives of his comrades or he was just being emotional. All questions where answer when he opened his arms for a brief second saying "Your not an Aggressor, but GOD DAMN am going to blow something up!" As the armor opened Dehy quickly climbed in and the armor came to life. In front of Dehy's eyes the interface showed him the status of his armor, Dehy wasted no time deciphering the information that looked comparable to a ancient computer's 1s and 0s. Reving up the power core of the armor Dehy rose the armor's arms to a horizontal L shaped position, pumped, then held the arms clinched closely to his body Reving the core 1 more powerful time then released.

Walking away in a cloud of mixed gases Dehy joined his squad leader saying "Next time I want an Aggressor for Yule."
 
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Initially after hearing the their DI tell them they were going to be little more than walking guns she felt herself freeze up. They were going to fight but she didn't feel like she was anywhere near ready for combat. Combat training was the last thing she needed in her military skill set, and she didn't like the idea of being in a situation where one wrong move would get you killed. Rei wasn't a standout or impressive fighter yet and it terrified her. Rei stood there a moment before allowing her fear to disappear into the sea of sounds around her. Numbly she hurried after the rest of the group.

She wanted out of this situation and the worst had not even started yet. Once they had reached their suit up area she chose one of the hostiles for herself and climbed inside. She held her breath as the armor shifted to accommodate her body. Once she was in the suit she took a moment to get used to the way it sensed how she would move. The extra bulk that the armor added was always something she had to get used to. Shifting her weight from foot to foot she waited for everyone else to be ready for their first real fight.
 
Kara sighed and looked at the commotion. The ship was in battle, that was something new. The team was being suit before they even made real marines. Kara wondered if that will make them go straight to P2C once they graduate, since she heard that is a rank P3C gets after he comes through a set of combat. Unless it is some tiny scuffle. That said they might be just suit up as a backup and wait for the real marines to handle all that. It would only make sense. It was no time to think about all that though.

Kara sprinted to the nearest Hostile and hopped in. She strapped herself and closed the chest piece, picking up the helmet and putting it on. The HUD flashed on and she quickly linked her armour with rest of the boots, so she knew well enough their position. Now she just had to wait to get her hands on a weapon and load missiles in the suit, unless it was already loaded up, which she quickly checked.

Kara did notice the certain nervoussness of Rei, as the medical marine climbed into her hostile. Kara walked to her and put armoured gauntlet on the other Hostile's shoulder. "No worries Doc, we go you back. Just make sure to stich our backsides together if it gets too hot." Kara said, grinning under her helmet.
 
Battle seemed to have found them and it was not what Edward wanted to be found by, maybe it wouldn't be as serious as it seemed to be but as he felt tremors from the main guns he guessed this wouldn't be the case as he was led through the ship. It wasn't that he was scared to fight, he just didn't want to but now that he didn't have a real choice in the matter he would try his best not to get himself and anyone else killed.

He then gained access to some power armour, it wasn't new bit it didn't really matter to him. Gettting in the closest Hostile he started getting used to how the armour felt around his body, moving his limbs around in generic motions so he didn't feel strange in the HOSTILE before people started the shooting part of today.
 
Dehy turned around and watched as his comrades approach him and his SL slowly. Dehy wasn't 100% excited to throw his life on the line for his people but he wasn't about to back down either and he wasn't about to let his squad turn tail and run back inside the ship as soon as few shots fly across there face.

So with a smug smile growing on his face Dehy shouted to the rest of his squad, "Come on titty sisters, we don't have all day and Edward let me know when you grow a pair of balls cause it looks like you guys want to go down with the ship!"
 
Terrence's initial scenario of a possible drill was washed away from the captain's announcement. He did realize, though, that it must've been something really bad to give them Hostiles, albeit not pristine ones. A sudden wash of an emotion that the private couldn't pin down washed over him as he approached one of the open suits, staring at it for a moment before clambering inside it, and made nothing that showed any emotion to anyone outside.

The P3C entered the suit, wriggling this way and that to fit his arms into the armor's sockets and then close the chest piece over him like a clamshell, hearing the sudden pop and hiss from the pressurized environment that he then found himself in. He finally pinned down the feeling that he had, it wasn't fear -or excitement, even- but more like euphoria instead, from knowing that after enduring the countless drills for so long he finally would be thrown into real action, smiling to himself inside the suit.

With the armor firmly secured, Terrence went over the basic checks, testing the armor's movements and systems for any flaws, just like in any other simulation, but still not quite like it. "P3C Walters reporting good to go."
 
Rich, deep laughter came from what was perhaps the most unexpected source of all - the Drill Sergeant himself.

"Next time? Try asking the big old Saint to not toss you a war in the pocket as a freebie to your present," the giant of a man sarcastically remarked to the two Boots, both he and the other DI loading fresh racks of mini-missiles into the calf mounted launchers. He went up and down the rack of armors as everyone suited up, making sure it all went off without a hitch. The Hostile - a mean, heavy metal fighting machine - closed over them all, the world going dark as the seals locked securely closed. Like a metal coffin, it softly but surely pressed down, enveloped and wrapped all around them like a suffocating pillow, stifling all air. And then their world - the assembly platforms of armor and each other - all lit up in their eyes, fresh air slowly circulating in the skull shaped helmet. "Naturally, you can expect his Helpers to set you up if he doesn't! You're all set up. This is isn't like your training rounds; this high-ex packs a punch!" the DI quipped and explained, tossing them their buck-sixty pound Rifles like they were nothing more than toys. "C'mon, we don't have all day!" the leading DI barked at them, taking the lead.

Like a two ton second skin, the suits had the feeling of massive weight, yet clung and moved with them at every step as they were all quickly marched into the ready rooms. All a familiar feeling from basic training. In moments however, they were greeted with a grand sight - one of the main hangers inside of their home. With all the craft already launched, it was nothing but rows and rows of power armored troops at the ready. Armed, armored and disciplined, they stood like gunmetal statues, all waiting. But something was wrong - the unsuited engineers and deck hands were fleeing out of the hangar and deeper into the ship. "Shit, they're kicking you out of the nest now," the Drill Sergeant half muttered to himself. Turning around to face them all, he gave the Boots the last words he'd ever get to give to them with a resigned calmness. "Just follow the rest. They'll figure out what do do with you. And whatever you do, stay alive."

At that, he and the other DI ran - only a heartbeat after the airlock sealed behind them, the massive, armored hangar doors nearly opened in a snap.

An invisible hand slapped at them all with the force of a mega-hurricane, sending the Boots tumbling out the ship.
 
Edmund was the first to catch the rifle that the Drill Instructor tossed out. Immediately he began going through the basic check of his NAM Rifle. '700 round drum full, check. Secondary drum located on the right hip, check. Weapon selector switched to safe, check.' He thought to himself while lamenting at the fact he had to use a digital weapon selector. Why couldn't they have a physical weapon selector like normal projectile based weapons? The soldier could easily cycle through safe, semi-automatic, and full automatic without even having to look at it. This way, Edmund was forced to pause for a moment to physically see what he was selecting before he could fire. This was definitely an equipment design flaw he should write his father about.

Focusing at the task at hand, Edmund began checking the rest of his equipment. 'Secondary Light Submachine Pistol with 5 mags, check. Vibrosaw Knife stored, check. Observation drone charged, check. Pulse Laser Array functioning within acceptable parameters, check. Push-Pull Plating online, check. Mini-missiles...' The man was paused mid-thought as the Drill Instructor yelled at the grunts to get moving. 'Check.'

Ablerich sprung forward to take the lead right behind the Drill Instructor as they moved to the ready room. Everything felt relatively normal up until this point. Sure, there were alarms blaring and the occasional blast echoed throughout the ship, but that was all normal. It was until the group moved out into the hanger that Edmund saw the inspiring sight of rows upon rows of power armor standing at the ready. They were essentially in the staging area to be launched. But who were they going to be launched with and why? What was their mission, who were they fighting? What was even going on outside at all?

The young man was almost fortunate that he had the mask to cover his face. This way no one could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Nor would they be able to see his pupils widen by the Drill Instructor's remarks that all they should do is follow the crowd and stay alive. That had to be possibly the worst orders he could've been given at that point. 'Hey, thanks for showing up. I need you to jump out into the unknown for an unspecified reason, hope that someone notices you and tells you what to do.' The very thought terrified Edmund. It terrified him so much that he almost certainly wasn't going to allow that to happen, not to him, not to his team.

As the Drill Instructor turned to leave the group, Edmund stepped up and turned to face the group. "Once we jump, wedge formation. Dehy takes point. Lennart, Ed, Terry, left flank in that order. Rei and Kara, right flank. Make sure to keep your spacing." He immediately turned back towards the door to ready himself by crouching down. He didn't expect anyone to question him or back talk him because as far as he was concerned, he was still acting Squad Leader until he was relieved. Besides, giving logical orders and something to focus on would put their minds to ease, at least, he hoped they would. "If we stick together, we'll stay alive." Ablerich kept the speech short because they were jumping soon by the look of things. He could hear the doors behind him shut with a hissing sound. The large metal doors in front of him shot up a second later...

Edmund felt the explosive decompression taking effect and jumped up into the air for a smooth launch out into space. Unfortunately, the man jumped too high due to his anxiety and had to use his maneuvering thrusters to prevent himself from being cleaved in half by the top of hanger doors. In that moment, all of the hurricane force winds and ear piercing sounds turned into nothingness as he cross the threshold into open space. Before him, beyond the masses of grey power armor beginning to take shape into numerous formations, was the empty void of space.

Immediately he began scanning for his squad to see where they were at.
 
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