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RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Mission 3.3] Winds of Change

Sigma

Sigma

Inactive Member
4th Fleet HQ, Nepleslia Prime

The offices of the 4th Fleet which usually sat empty were now a hive of activity. Scores of Naval personnel had been re-assigned to begin the work of re-structuring 4th Fleet, acquiring new warships and crews. Junker drones walked about doing their best to keep the place tidy and lost papers returned to their owners. In addition, Marines who had been assigned to the Fleet were also ordered to report for duty there.

Lisa Simmons was the amongst first. As she entered, a Navy cadet sat behind the reception desk, flipping through a sheaf of paper.
 
The morning before, Curtis carefully shaved the stubble from his face, intentionally leaving a few small nicks on what was otherwise smooth skin on his face. His shoulder length hair was in the waste basket of a motel somewhere, leaving his head feeling cold despite being covered by a newly purchased Type 33 Cap.

In fact, everything the Greenshirt wore was bought not a few days before reporting to the 4th, in order to keep up with the customary clean and crisp appearance most new Marines carry before their first assignment.

Climbing out of a taxi that parked in front of the 4th Fleet HQ, Curtis had clenched his jaw slightly and widened his eyes a bit, adding a nervous scratching of his neck every once in a while as he walked stiffly towards the HQ. In truth, Curtis had performed the same walk before when he first came out of boot camp, and he could not have felt more at peace.

However, no one here could know any of that. IPG Operator Curtis McNair had to be left behind at OutSec along with his black uniform. "Private Third Class Kurt Francis" had just graduated from Sniper Training and had never seen combat before, and was as nervous as any new Marine faced with the prospect of putting his body between the Imperium and enemy fire.

Entering the Headquarters, Curtis adopted a hurried, almost panicked pace and not-so-subtly pinched the rear end of a female Marine as he breezed past her. Quickly reaching for his DataJockey, Curtis handed it to the Cadet sitting behind the desk.

The DataJockey would display information only relevant to the Cadet's pay grade. However, he was sure that the CO of the ship he was assigned to would have plenty of things to say to him when the two of them were alone.

"Private Third Class Kurt Francis, reporting as ordered!" Curtis' right hand would dart to the top right of the brim of his hat in an extremely rigid salute.
 
Lisa was about to give cadet her datajockey when some guy ran along her and gave him his datajockey first. "Hey," she said. It offended her quite a lot. She was in full uniform, her duffel bag on her shoulder. It was not easy getting here from the transport and now some dumbass takes her place in line. "I was here first you ******," she said and put her own Datajockey with her orders on table in front of the nacy cadet too. "Lisa Simmong reporting for duty. Here are my orders," she said, saluted to cadet and then went back to frowning at the guy next to her.
 
The harried Navy receptionist looked from Kurt to Lisa. Without a word, he took both sets of orders and glanced through them. A few minutes later, he gave them back their datajockeys. "Right, looks in order. The Admiral and 4th Fleet are currently in the Tange system, evacuating civilians. No one's sure yet when they're coming back. The highest ranked marines we have are sergeants. Speak to Captain Murdoch for details and some temporary duties. As you can see, it's a bit of a mess," he said, pointing to the other overworked Naval personnel.

Dozens of men and a few women in blue were moving boxes, desks and cabinets, filing papers or hurriedly scribbling things. It really was a mess.

"Murder's the one with the PO over there," the receptionist added, pointing to a male Navy Captain talking to an ID-Sol.
 
Lisa stopped looking Kurt and turned to cadet. She smiled at him adn said, "thank you sir!" She then saluted took her datajockey and was on her way towards the captain. But she made few steps when she suddenly realised something. She turned back and waited for Kurt to walk to her. When he was near she whispered. "Hey didn't that cadet just call that captain, captain Murder?" She asked and seemed little unneasy. Last what she needed now was some shouty, brutal officer. Well maybe it was just slip of the tongue. Murdoch, Murder. It is similiar.
 
"What's the difference, sweet tits? Don't you want a captain in charge of you whose really good at murdering things?" Kurt winked at Lisa and took his DataJockey from the receptionist and put it in his pocket. Picking up his duffel bag, he hooked his arm out at the side, inviting Lisa to wrap her arm around his and follow him.

"Shall we?"
 
"Hell why not, this could be hilarious," Lisa said forgetting how angry she was at this guy Kurt before. She picked up her duffel bag and wrapped her arm in his and walked with him toward Captain Murder. Plus Kurt called her sweet tits and she can take compliment.
 
As the two of them left the reception desk the front door opened and another young recruit entered the room. His dark eyes quickly darted around, subtly noting all the exits and the positions of the guards and personnel. He wasn't planning any trouble, this was just a force of habit for him. The streets of Nepleslia Prime weren't always the safest, and he'd learned long ago to always know what was where.

All that took but a second, and he didn't even break stride as he sauntered up to the desk, taking out his Data Jockey and handing it to the man behind. "Private Tyrellius reporting for duty." Was all he said, his voice quiet. He then stood there, duffel bag over his left shoulder, the fingers of his now empty right hand twitched slightly as if unused to not having something to grasp. Tyrellius tilted his head just enough to note the movement of the other recruits out of the corner of his eye. A slight smile crossed his lips as he saw how the tall, clean shaved one handled the female recruit. A bit of an alpha male, that one. he thought to himself, then turned his attention back to the desk and awaited the processing of his orders.
 
The cadet took the datajockey from Tyrellius. "No family name?" he asked without looking up from the datajockey.

----------------

By all rights, Captain Darryl Murdoch certainly didn't look like a murderer. But then, as one got closer, it became obvious that both of his arms were huge cybernetic ones with sharp, steel tipped fingers. Neither Kurt nor Lisa could know this but the nickname "Murder" came from when he claimed to have personally killed a couple NMX nekos with his bare hands. No one had witnessed the killing, only the Captain chasing after them and returning the next day with their heads. His pistol had been checked and not a round had been fired.

A week later, they were still pulling bits of Neko flesh from the nooks and crannies in his arms.

When Captain Murdoch saw the two Marines walk up, arm-in-arm, he almost did a double take. "Let me guess, you two love-birds want me to be witness to your marriage," he growled at Kurt and Lisa.
 
"Nah, we just met," Lida said and chuckled. She never was afraid of officers. Not that she would not respect them btu she did not understand why she should make herself be any different in front of them. She then let Kurt let go and saluted. "Private 3rd Class Lisa Simmon reporting for duty sir. They told us to report to you Captain." Lisa said.
 
Tyrellius shrugged at the cadet and simply said, "No family." He gave a sort of half smile and then said, "Which I'd imagine means to the corps that I can be sent on more... dangerous missions, as there'd be no one to miss me if I didn't return."

He glanced over at the other recruits again, noticing the metallic gleam of the captain's artificial arms. That's very interesting, he thought to himself. Then looking back at the cadet with his datajockey he said with a polite smile, "Anything else? Or can I get underway?"
 
"Sir, no sir." Curtis replied quickly, bringing his arm up in a wide sweeping motion so as to pinch Lisa's rear as he saluted the Captain. To be sure, he was able to distinguish a combat veteran between a professional desk jockey, and this Captain was most certainly the former. Only problem is, most of these types tended to not have the sense of humor required to appreciate his attempt to make Lisa jump while at attention.

"Private Third Class Kurt Francis, reporting for duty, sir." Kurt cocked his head sideways in Lisa's direction, while whispering all too loudly that "this pair of tits and ass cheeks lead me over here. Is it too much to ask for her to be my bunkmate?"

"I'm pushing it", thought Curtis, "but who hasn't had to deal with some smartass recruit barely out of boot?"
 
"Well, I don't know how you got this far without acquiring a family name. But I'll tell you right now, best get one. Otherwise, you'll have one or more given to you. And the Rear Admiral never calls anyone by their first name so God knows what he'll call you. Have fun with Captain Murdoch over there," the cadet pointed to Murdoch, Kurt and Lisa.

-------------------

Murdoch glanced from Lisa to Kurt. "You want her shoving things up your arse that badly? Tch, in my day, even the recruits knew the path to a woman's bed required liberal amounts of alcohol," Murdoch scowled. On a normal day, he'd have punched Kurt just to emphasize the message but today was not normal.

Simmons was clearly a fresh-faced young woman with a fair amount of spunk. McNair, on the other hand, looked too old to be a simple P3C. Like he'd seen combat. Whatever it was, that was the past. This was the present and they would be judged by what they did from now onwards.

"Both of you head to one of the armouries. Sign in with the drone or quartermaster there, get some ammo and run the "Fun House" then bring your scores back to me. Hold up ... looks like we've got another lost little duckling."

Murdoch had spotted Tyrellius speaking to the receptionist cadet. It was times like these that he sometimes regretted switching from being a Marine WO to a Navy officer.
 
Lisa shivered a little as she was pinched in buttocks. But she clenched her teeth and used all her will to not make an ass of herself in front of Captain Murder and stay at attention. She sent quick frown to Kurt and then looked again at Murder.

When Captain told them to go to Quartermaster or Drone she was sure she wanted to see human. Easier to get something from human then from drone. She saluted again to Captain and walked off a little. She waited for Kurt and her both being far enough to not be heard by Captain. "You should stop think with you dick," she told to Kurt then. "Now let's go see quartermaster.

She asked for direction and lead the duro to nearest armory. She saluted its quartermaster and said. "Hello, Captan Murdoch sent us. We are supposed to get some ammo here. I need ammo for HHG and that shitty paragon rifle we are issued." She said to him.
 
Tyrellius arched an eyebrow at the desk cadet at his comment about his lack of a family name. Then he he shrugged as he accepted back his datajockey and said. "I'll try to keep that in mind." And without further comment he turned and headed over to the captain, his gait steady. This place did make him a bit nervous, but he didn't let it show. His darks eyes cooly took in the room and everyone in it, and he was keenly aware of the other two recruits heading out as he came up to the captain.

His left hand falling to his side with his datajockey, he brought his right up in a crisp salute and then stood at attention. "Private Tyrellius reporting Captain." He said, his voice quiet but clear. "And before you ask, sir, that is my only name. First, last, middle and sideways." He nodded his head back toward the desk cadet and added, "The cadet over there suggested I make up a last name. If that is your order I'll do so, though to be honest I don't think it'll make any difference. I am the only Tyrellius I've ever heard of." He said the last with a little twinkle in his eye as if sharing a secret, but keenly mindful he was standing in front of a command officer he was careful to keep a straight face and a respectful tone.
 
Murdoch let loose a verbal volley on Tyrellius.

"I did not give you permission to speak, Marine! I did not care what your goddam name was until you wasted five seconds of my life telling me about what you and Cadet Larsen have been gossiping about! From here on out, you are Private Meatface and you will respond to that name and any others I can think of. Follow Private McNair here, he is only minutely less mouthy than you, and lay all your gossip on him. McNair, brief this vagabond scamp on your way down and make sure he does not enter my field of vision for the next hour. And tell Simmons she has 24 hour sentry duty starting at midnight. Teach her to leave before I dismiss her."

Captain Darryl Murdoch was acutely aware of the moniker and the reputation he had acquired. This outburst of anger was directed at Tyrellius just as much as it was at the rest of the military personnel in the office. Such a display of temper would make the men and women work faster. Not better but faster. And completing the job was more important right now than making sure every damned file was in the folder.

When you report for duty, you report for duty. Not throw your life story out like it was the most important thing. He had tolerated Simmons and McNair because he had not felt like making a hole in Rear Admiral Valken's new office. But he would not suffer fools twice in the same hour.

"Both of you, dismissed."

-------------------

The armorer pulled out a piece of paper and a greasy pen. "Sign here while I get your stuff." He returned soon enough and lay two boxes of ammunition on the counter between him and Lisa. "This box," he said, putting his hand on the smaller red one, "16 HJP rounds for the HHG."

"This one," he said with an evil grin, "80 rounds of crappy Paragon ammo. Have fun loading. Word to the wise: if you complete the Fun House with less than half of that, make sure your next of kin are ready to receive your remains. Captain Murder makes you run the Fun House with a paintball gun, ten rounds only, against live "enemies" who have plenty of paint."
 
His assignment came through to him about a week before the actual date of reassignment to the 4th Fleet would happen. Presented to him by his Parole Officer, Kyle Barnt, which was shown after his commanding officer inside the Funky City Barracks caught a glimpse of it first. Ssgt. Adron Moore, had been assigned to watch over Alrik when his training had been completed as terms of his parole until he was assigned to a position inside the Nepleslian Military. Ssgt. Moore must have been glad to see him go, Alrik was nothing more than a case of over cautiousness on the part of the higher-ups, he was a generally well behaved recruit and did not earn the attention that the law had given him. His orders had been uploaded into his datapad and he began to pack his necessary equipment from his bunk a few days before the ship out date.

On the day of ship out, he was escorted on the transport bus to the offices of the 4th Fleet and further escorted to the cadet receptionist at the desk, Kyle Barnt placed a stack of papers neatly organized in a dark brown folder with a thick rubber band over it. " Sir, here are the papers for one, Private Third Class Alrik Wolf. This is to be presented to the commanding officers of his assignment when that has been decided," Alrik stood at attention quietly, as Kyle signaled him to the front, he marched over to the desk, presenting his datapad ontop of the files and stating, " Private Third Class, Alrik Wolf, reporting as ordered." His voice would fill the small area that he meant to address and no further. Kyle would then speak, " When it has been recorded, please sign for these documents." With obvious displeasure of being there, it sank into Kyle's tone.
 
Tyrellius saluted silently at the captain's dismissal, he knew better than to say anything else at this point, then turned to follow privates Kurt and Lisa as ordered. As he walked he thought about why he'd joined up, about trying to do the right thing for once instead of taking advantage of people. But if the captain was any indication of what he should expect, it made him wonder if he made the right choice. It's probably just his time of the month, don't sweat it. he thought to himself, which brought a slight smile to his face. By now they were out of the room and near the armory Tyrellius looked over at the big alpha male he'd been assigned to follow and spoke. "So, private McNair, I'm told you're supposed to bring me up to speed on what we're doing. The captain seemed rather less enthusiastic to tell me himself." He said the last with a wry smile, he wasn't hurt by the captain's harsh words. He'd heard similar shit before and was man enough to take it. Glancing at Lisa he said, "Harsh. 24 hour sentry duty..."
 
With the rare exception, of which Sebastien was not one, every marine fresh out of boot is nervous about their first deployment; and rightfully so.

However while some boot babies are so nervous they're ready to piss themselves others, like Sebastien, are able to bare in mind two facts which indeed make the experience much less intimidating.

The first being that it might be a tougher road ahead then behind but boot camp is there to prepare you and you are, though the best efforts of your superiors, ready and capable of taking on the challenges that lay before you.

The second being that, at least for awhile on your first deployment, you're a bit like a construction site traffic flag person. Most people will recognize that you are there, see a uniform, and then forget you as soon as they've passed you.

So, nervous as he was, Sebastien would arrive at the steps of the 4th Fleet headquarters and, with the outward confidence and kept appearance expected of any military man, would make his way into the building and up to the front desk.

The interaction would be simple, straightforward, and informal. He'd approach, greet her with a casual smile and a "Hello Miss." and present her with his datajocky, expecting she would direct him as needed, and assuming no unexpected details or idle chitchat, would take his datajocky back and follow the directions.

Of course were she to reply with something unexpected, questions, information he'd needed but had not expected, ect. If not, his next stop would be his new CO, to whom of which he'd march straight up to and offer the expected respects and greetings before once again presenting his orders.

ooc: Sorry for the wait. I decided to just get it done and not worry about it being good. xD
 
Cadet Larsen took the papers for Alrik Wolf and looked at the parole officer. What the heck? A Marine from Boot Camp still had a civilian parole officer?

He returned his attention to Alrik Wolf. "Ever heard of a datajockey? You think we like processing papers?" Larsen grumbled shuffling through the papers and taking the datajockey atop it. He ignored the papers and scanned the datajockey.

"Take this all to Captain Murdoch, over there with that new recruit. Big metal arms. You can go, officer. Private Wolf is 4th Fleet now." Larsen handed back the papers and datajockey to Alrik.

------------------

Captain Murdoch looked at Sebastien. "Yes, Private?" he growled.

-------------------

Lisa, Kurt and Tyrellius stood at the starting gate for the Fun House, each with two full magazines for their IAW and two clips loaded for their side arm. They wore protective eye-glasses. The trio listened to the instructor outline their objective.

"Welcome to the Fun House. Inside, there are multiple humanoid automated targets armed with a paintball gun. Shoot their head or body to score a kill. There may also be civilian hostages. Your objective is to clear the house and not kill the hostages. You will be scored by how many kills and bullets you have expended as well as by how fast you clear the Fun House. Work as a team. Have fuuuun!"

The gate opened. The course was a single level of walls, door and corners simulating an office floor.
 
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