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RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Mission 3.1] A Change of Plans

Sigma

Sigma

Inactive Member
The next day, 0800 Hours, NSS Asp in orbit over Nepleslia

"Attention, all 4th Fleet personnel. Rear Admiral Dominic Valken's shuttle has arrived docked. All 4th Fleet personnel, report to the Briefing Room," Drei hailed over the ship's speakers.

The irony was that it was the same room in which they had all received the message that Admiral Wazu had been relieved of command. He and Harm had traveled planetside to Nepleslia to argue before Headquarters.

Dominic Valken boarded the C3E Cruiser NSS Asp alone. He had no staff since he had not had any command or duties which required them. It seemed an ugly ship to him, like a giant pen floating in space, but its capabilities were certainly great and allowed it a great potential.

The 4th Fleet was small, on paper but it did possess the greater capabilities inherent in the more modern warships. For the upcoming operation to Tange, they would be well served by even 3 C3Es.

Rear Admiral Valken entered the Briefing Room to find the ship's Marine contingent assembled. "Well, I knew I was getting a small command but I didn't realize it was this small," he said candidly, surprised by the presence of so few people.

"I am Rear Admiral Dominic Valken, the new 4th Fleet Commanding Officer. Since we are currently a small group, let us remove the constraints of formality. Please introduce yourselves," he said to the assembled Marines.
 
"Good morning Rear Admiral, sir," said Phaedra standing at attention.

"Sergeant Phaedra Volkov reporting for duty, sir," she said, snapping off a perfect salute.

Remembering that the Rear Admiral wanted a less formal briefing, she returned to parade rest and waited for the introductions to be concluded.
 
"P3C Laura Romero, most brilliant medic in the universe, sir," Laura saluted with a grin. "That's my underling, Bernie."

Bernhard shot a glance at Laura but saluted, "P3C Bernhard Greer, medic. Not her underling, sir."

Admiral Valken raised an eyebrow. When he said informal, he hadn't meant permission to be cheeky. But it was good to know that the young woman had a sharp tongue.
 
"Sergeant Arieg Hessel, resident Paragon contractor, you pay me I kill things, simple." said Arieg after he saluted the Admiral.
 
Avel's life began when a pack of incompetent scientists, who were desperate for money, decided that it would be a good idea to clone a dangerous mass murderer and create a new line of elite fighters. What could possibly go wrong?

For starters, everything. The prisoner wasn't properly secured, she broke free, escaped and killed a bunch of guards on the way out. Avel herself became the victim of a faulty memory transfer and was plagued by violent memory relapses for the majority of her life.

The scientists in all their 'wisdom' blamed her for all of it. She had simply stepped out of a cloning vat to be surrounded by destruction and somehow it was all her doing. Until recently she had actually believed it.

It was only now that she realized that she easily could have sued the bastards and lived a life of relative luxury. Instead she did the most illogical thing imaginable: She signed up for for a military she had no interest in what so ever with the single goal of proving the dickweeds wrong.

Her training was a brutal and desperate attempt to show everyone that she wasn't a genetic defect. No matter what she did or accomplished she never got any praise from anyone save for sniveling toadies or men trying to hit on her. Again, she thought it was something she had done wrong.

So in the end she graduated at the top of her class with no praise from the commanding officers who were most likely aware of her origins.

Then came her first mission on the Cirrus Station and boy was meeting Cassefin a real treat. It took every last bit of her self control not to kill her in front of everybody. Her god complex, egotism, fascism and narcissistic behavior was bad enough. But making the security teams live in squalor while the scientists lived in luxury went against the principles SMIDION was founded upon. Avel secretly gave the bitch two giant thumbs down and prayed for a revolution that ended with her being hung.

Then there was the rescue mission involving a runaway tram. The cart she was in wound up being rammed off the tracks by another and that was the most she accomplished on her first mission.

Then came the mysterious gap in her memory and she was assigned to a unit in the 4th fleet. The line of screw ups that transpired were both funny and sad. Then came the part where she tricked Phadera into telling her what happened.

The amazing story of where she was apparently assigned to the Acadia, did a bunch of heroic stuff and was then blown away with red shells at the first sign of trouble.

The government that she had blindly placed so much trust in let them get off completely free, wiped her memory instead of giving her a fair trial, sealed the records of what happened and demoted her for no given reason, leaving her in a constant state of fear.

Why would she be given a chance to prove her innocence and show that it was a tragic accident? It not like there was any justice in the universe or anything. Fairness, mercy, justice, morality, these were turning out to be nothing more that pathetic delusions. She knew better now.

After everything that had happened, she was still surprised by what she heard and had the urge to go on a killing spree right there. But it was all her fault in the end. She was the one who signed the enlistment papers and brought all this hell upon herself. In the end she just felt used, betrayed and really, really, really fucking stupid.

Then something in her head snapped and she couldn't take it anymore. She placed a gun against her head and willed herself to pull the trigger. Even if she wasn't stopped she doubted she could actually go through with it.

Then reality seemingly fell apart and she found herself in a hellish wasteland. The only things there were boogeymen, phantoms, demons and unending sights of unspeakable horror. It also didn't help that every last one of her failures replayed themselves before her eyes. Over and over again until she became numb to it.

Then things got increasing warped and distorted and the horror came back with a vengeance. Things got bad to the point where she felt as though she were about to go stark raving mad. But then she woke up in the medbay.

It was right around there she realized that it was time for a career change.

So she decided to hand over an armor design she had come up with a while back in exchange for a discharge. Only she didn't know if this design would be successful or not.

Then a miracle happened. Wazu was relieved of command, her P4C status was no longer in effect now that he was gone and she could quit whenever she wanted to.

Did she truly want to quit?

Part of her just wanted to get a permanent home and never fight again but what else was she good for? She had way too much self respect to go back to manipulating men for money like that and she didn't have much of that either. Maybe she could sell her ideas to Origin perhaps?

Well, first things first...

Avel marched down the hallway towards the briefing room. She was dressed in simple blue jeans, a black shirt and regular shoes. The data pad containing her airtight legal resignation, life story and request clutched in her fist. She had listed her suspicions about Harm and was volunteering herself to do some investigative work before she packed her bags and took the next shuttle out of here.

Upon reaching the room she quickly walked in, tossed the data card onto the table as soon as she was in range and quickly left. She wasn't in the mood to speak with people who undoubtedly thought she was insane. To be honest, she probably was.

In the meantime she would grab her guns and set up a range where she could hit some moving targets.
 
Valken nodded to each Marine in turn as they introduced themselves. But when Avel stormed in and out, he was left on the backfoot. The performance was entirely unexpected. Carefully, as if the thing was covered in slime, he picked up the datajockey and began skimming its contents. "You people seem to have been in the possession of a time bomb and it seems to have exploded. Sergeant, we'll have to discuss this after. For now, we have some business. Everyone, please have a seat."

He activated the 3D projector and keyed in some commands. Soon, a star system was displayed. "This is the Tange system. I believe you were already considering a mission here. Headquarters had also been preparing a mission and now we're rolling the two missions, and their resources, together.

"There are over 300,000 UOC personnel present, civilian and military, in the system. These include a couple thousand at Tange II and a military outpost on Tange VI. We have no idea if the NMX have actually reached the system. The last we knew, they were focused on the more populous UOC systems like Jiyuu and Asura.

And here's where we make our entrance." Valken smiled and paused, letting it sink in, "We have gathered 241 transport ships of various classes. This transport armada includes Subjugator and Egress transports, and at the head of this transport fleet will be the NSS Destiny."

Another pause to let them digest that. The same colony ship which began the independence of Nepleslia was being put on active service. He had experienced the same level of shock a week earlier.

"To guard this massive fleet, we are pulling a number of old ships out of dry dock. 6 Arashi-class escorts and 26 Oberon-class escorts. Oldies but solid. These will have a skeleton crew, augmented by Drei. We'll also be taking along every single warship in the 4th Fleet as well as Green Squadron. In total, we'll have 38 warships and the fighters from Green Squadron. I'd have liked more warships but it was a miracle we could get so many mothballed ships ready so fast. None of the other fleets are willing to loan us anything either. And you Marines will be part of the ground contingent.

"Our plan is to enter the system with most of the warships while the transports and a few escorts wait a bit further away. If there are NMX present that we can overcome, we do so and begin landing on the planet to begin the evacuation. Marine squads will be securing as many space port facilities. Once secure, we will bring in the transports and begin evacuation. Hopefully, there's no NMX and we can get in and out within 36 hours. The operation is codenamed Dynamo. Are there any questions?"
 
Naomi was positioned in the back of the group, still marked by the same increasingly common cloud of smoke. As soon as Admiral Valken opened up the room for questions, she raised a hand.

"Private Scroggins, sir, two questions. I assume the local leaders at least know we are coming. What sort of local assistance can be expected, and how are we to handle things in the event that locals panic and we have a mob swarming us on the ground?"
 
Valken chuckled. That one was sharp-minded. "Private, we have no idea what the situation is, groundside any more than we do in the star system. The NMX may already have occupied and enslaved everyone there. At which point, our mission may be aborted or it may not. Contact with the UOC is sporadic at best. There's still pockets of resistance, but we don't know where and to what degree. As for civilians, do your best to keep that from happening. These are Jiyuuans so they'll won't be easily panicked. I'm sorry, I'm not much use for ground operations."
 
Naomi chewed on her cigar and made a noise that sounded like a grunt trying hard to be a laugh.

"Not too much intel, is there?" she mused. "Ah, well, sometimes, there's nothing to do but drop in blind and hope for the best. As to ground operations not bein' your thing, well..."

Her eyes traced around the room and found Phaedra.

"That's why we've got Sergeant Volkov."
 
Phaedra's mouth was left agape when Avel arrived out of uniform, unceremoniously threw down her DataJocky, and then left without another word.

"You people seem to have been in the possession of a time bomb and it seems to have exploded."

"You got that right..." thought Phaedra.

"Sergeant, we'll have to discuss this after. For now, we have some business. Everyone, please have a seat."

Phaedra clenched her jaw and took her seat as Rear Admiral Valken briefed the squad of the mission they were to undertake in the Tange system.

Before Phaedra was able to voice her opinions, Naomi asked the Admiral relatively the same questions she herself would have asked. And then Phaedra was taken aback when Naomi said:

"That's why we've got Sergeant Volkov."

One side of Phaedra's mouth smirked slightly but it quickly disappeared.

"We will take care of things on the ground, as long as we have eyes in the sky, sir."
 
Valken kept a straight face, looking once again at the sergeant. Inside, he smiled. If the squad had confidence in the sergeant, that was fine. "The ground mission is essentially a standard take and hold operation, with the added element of large numbers of civilians. If there are NMX ground forces, you cannot let them reach the transports. Not a single one must break your lines.

"We'll be using standard Hostiles and Aggressors, though I understand that someone here has a NIGHT 1 armour?" the Admiral said, looking over the room.

A specialised armour like the NIGHT was probably the cigar-chomping woman's. She seemed to have the necessary spunk to go into combat with a lighter power armour and still come out untouched.
 
"Sir, Private Third Class Aubrey, I have a question. Is there a specific weapons set we should be taking for our power armors or is it going to be personal preference" Sawyer asked standing at attention.
 
"We'll be using standard Hostiles and Aggressors, though I understand that someone here has a NIGHT 1 armor?"

"That is correct, Admiral. I will be piloting the NIGHT 1 as the squad's sniper."

Phaedra prefered to not appear boastful and left it at that. True, her specialization was marksmanship, but who was she to judge the abilities of her fellow Marines.

"I am the one they will look to when things go belly up; I need to be exemplary," thought Phaedra.
 
That was a surprise. "Strange to have a specialist in the position of leadership. Most Marine units I know tend to separate them but, I was told you operated under different... circumstances." Valken shrugged.

"Marksmanship will be necessary if you've got NMX forces mixed in amongst the civilians. For that purpose, no minimissiles and Aggressors will take AMPs. We cannot risk civilian lives with explosive weapons. Our mission is one of good will. Victory results in us getting away with as many UOC personnel we can take. Understood?"
 
"Understood sir" Sawyer barked in response to the admiral. "Sir, one other question, how long will we have once this briefing ends before we head out towards Tange?"
 
The door to the briefing room opened with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a statuesque woman with an hourglass figure, short, messy black hair and a pair of icy blue eyes ran through with circuitry. Clearly, she was a fully-converted cyborg, and Valken was acutely aware of who she was. As she continued into the room, her footsteps echoed far louder than those of the others, and the ground seemed to rumble softly when she stepped. Presumably, her body was dense and made of very strong, high-carbon steel.

"Private Third Class Rita Stenton reporting for active duty, sir." She said in a mid-pitched monotone, saluting Valken heartily before taking a stoic look around at her new comrades. The only thing she cared more about than killing was not dying herself, so she'd damn well better learn to get along with everyone she could, just in case the government had the bright idea of pulling her plug.

"I was told I'd be piloting a hostile and killing Squids. Anything else I should know?" She asked straightforwardly, crossing her arms and waiting for a response. She hadn't exactly been around for the briefing.
 
Valken saluted back. Yes, things were certainly different in 4th Fleet. This must be the new transfer he'd read about on the shuttle here. "Sergeant Volkov can give you the long and the short, Private."

He turned his attention to the Private who had spoken earlier.

"Aubrey, we'll be leaving soon. I need to finish familiarizing myself with everything we've got. If that's it, you're all dismissed. Sergeant Volkov, brief the Private and meet me here to discuss that other matter."
 
"Aye aye sir" Sawyer replied, turning to the others he said "well, guess it's time to head on down to the armory to pick out our gear for this mission." With that he took off down in that direction. He wanted to be the first to pick his new Power armor out. He'd trained in all the standard Marine Corps models but knew that his calling was the Aggressor, the massive firepower and strength of the armor would make up for his own not particularly spectacular physique. Reaching the armory he said to the drone there "I'd like to check out a suit of Aggressor powered armor and the AMP and other gear to go with it to go through my own personal check and service inspection to make sure everything is up to par for this upcoming mission."
 
One marine in particular had gone silent for quite some time. To them, he wasn't anyone special, that was for sure, so it wouldn't be too big a deal if he stayed quiet. But the simple fact was, he knew he shouldn't have let all those events get to him in the first place. Matteo took a deep breath and stretched, rolling his shoulders. 'Guess its about time I get out of this slump.' he thought to himself. As the meeting wrapped to a close, and people left, he moved up to speak to the Admiral directly.

"Sir, though I should have brought this topic up during the meeting, I think we should remain issued with mini-missiles." Matteo objected. "Even if we're under strict orders not to risk harming civilians with them, there's always situations where nothing else gets the job done, light anti-air work included." He then asked, "Are there any other reasons to keep us from being issued these besides civilian safety?"

He still remembered that fiasco at the prison facility with the aircraft strafing them all.
 
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