• If you were supposed to get an email from the forum but didn't (e.g. to verify your account for registration), email Wes at [email protected] or talk to me on Discord for help. Sometimes the server hits our limit of emails we can send per hour.
  • Get in our Discord chat! Discord.gg/stararmy
  • 📅 April 2024 is YE 46.3 in the RP.

RP [Blackguard] Two of Clubs

Charmaylarg Dufrain

🎖️ Game Master
RP Date
Ye-46
RP Location
Ukk
Commanding the space of the former NMX held system of UKK a leviathan seen rarely in scope or might dominated and was known as the BIG GREEN. A massive military station almost a hundred and fifty miles long and almost as broad across the Big Green was the single largest starbase in the entire kikyo sector.

Housing in and around it the enitre 4th fleet, an assault fleet of renown, the ships themselves looked as though flies around a mighty beast even as they entered or left it much akin to a swarm of hornets.

Inside the station as well were the amenities to house and perform for millions much as it did that day as the 4th Shaik, one of the most diverse of the entire SMDIoN in doctorine as well as species resided across several entire levels as the marines trained, drilled, spent time in the station on leave, or enjoyed R&R. On the Blue-level, 44th wing of one such area pf the station some ten marines out of over a million would pass out of residential and service wings with various barracks and ammenities like resturants, chow halls, and wardrooms, and into a lone viewing deck barely fifty-meters across and ten wide that consisted of just a long, slightly curved stretch of window and occasional benches.

Here, was one of many viewing decks that looked inside the Big Green itself. Bellow, miles away so far they could only be made out by distant lights moored hundreds of starships attached to cradles inside the starbase itself as the means to secure an entire assault fleet were arranged even as a distant longsword-class frigate passed by the viewing deck, massive in its size to a small person but as though little more than a simple bird in its own scale compared to the stadium it flew in even as it entered nose-first into a cubby umbilical bellow the viewing deck.

Three people waited in this place. Two young, male, marines in PFC ranked uniforms stood behind the bench of a middle-aged Jiyuuian woman in an Ensigns navy uniform. The two nodded to the marines as they entered, though no more even as the navy officer, a woman of simple beauty found in many places in the sector looked on contentedly at the passing starships with both hands cupped around a paper beverage cup that steamed slightly in the cooler than warm air not yet noticing them.

The marines were expected here. Each given in their orders this specific deck and location and this very time to be here for arrangement into their new unit. Orders to report to an Ensign Devone for orders, and to wear their new unit patch that came with it.

1704834638261.png
 
Last edited:
Big Green - Medical Facility Alpha-42

In the dimly lit recovery quarters aboard "Big Green," Waller Redhawk sat on the edge of his bunk, the soft hum of the station's life support systems providing a constant backdrop to his thoughts. His fingers traced absent patterns on the smooth surface of his regulation-issue uniform, the weight of anticipation settling in his chest. A message blinked on the holographic screen, projecting the orders that would shape the next chapter of his journey.

As Waller Redhawk embarked on his recovery journey aboard Big Green, he faced a multitude of challenges, both physical and psychological. The sterile corridors of the space station became both a sanctuary and a battleground as he grappled with the aftermath of Stenkagorad, an icy hell in the Svodog system that had been Waller's first real taste of the wider universe. Redhawk's physical rehabilitation unfolded as a painstaking journey, navigating the intricate intersection of advanced medical technology and the resilience of the human body. Waller's mind wound back over the last few months...

"Nano-medical wonders coursed through my veins—a microscopic army tasked with repairing the cellular damage inflicted by unforgiving frost. In their silent mission, these microscopic heralds of regeneration ventured into the intricacies of my cellular tapestry. Holographic projections painted vivid landscapes within the sterile confines of my rehabilitation chamber. Three-dimensional terrains, lifelike and immersive, challenged me to traverse virtual landscapes that mirrored the harsh conditions of my past. In the ethereal glow of holograms, I found both solace and challenge—an arena where determination clashed with the specters of memory. Zero gravity became a dance with the void—a simulated embrace where magnetic boots tethered me to the floor, and harnesses suspended me in a weightless ballet. Here, I relearned movement, muscles adapting to the cosmic arenas of space. The station's corridors transformed into a sanctuary, echoing the triumph of overcoming the physical constraints of my past.

In the quiet spaces between the whir of machinery and the glow of holograms, my resilience manifested as a beacon. In the quiet spaces between the whir of machinery and the glow of holograms, my resilience manifested as a beacon."

As he read through the electronic missive, Waller's brows furrowed, absorbing the directives with a mix of focus and trepidation. His next duty station awaited, a destination that existed only in the coded coordinates and strategic plans of military command. The metallic tang of uncertainty lingered in the air.

Inner thoughts churned like a tempest within his mind. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a spark of determination glowed in Waller's eyes. The stoic resolve that had carried him through the trials of recovery now faced a new crucible.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Waller took a steadying breath. The holographic screen flickered as he acknowledged the orders, a symbolic gesture sealing his commitment to the next mission. The uncertainties loomed, but within him stirred the echoes of recovery, a testament to the indomitable spirit that refused to be defined by the shadows of the past.

"I've faced the unknown before," Waller murmured to himself, his low voice resonating in the confined space.
 
Ukk System
The Biggest of Green Bases


Similar to Waller, the man - the Minkan, more accurately - known as Matokai Masato was lost in his thoughts as he absentmindedly strode down the labyrinth of corridors and passageways that made up the interior of a Big Green Starbase. He wasn’t lost, of course - the computing device (and its helpful navigation program) in his right hand assured that - but he was alone for the most part, which finally gave him time to reflect upon the whirlwind of events that’d occurred over the past month.

It’d all began with his resignation from the Star Army, his emigration from the land of cats to the land of manliness - and, following a night’s stay in a run-down flophouse that had somehow deluded itself into thinking it was a hotel, his enlistment in the Nepleslian Space Marine Corps; though Masato had briefly considered joining the Nepleslian Space Navy instead, the fact that he honestly didn’t want to see the inside of an engineering room for a long time and - much more importantly - the fact that Haisely Goenkof was in the Marines were combined more then enough to convince the Minkan to be a ground-pounder instead of a spacefaring navyboy.

What had followed next was a month of extraordinarily grueling training, not because it was particularly difficult - even demilitarized, Masato’s NH-31 body (which had gotten him through the Star Army’s Basic just fine) was more then capable of meeting the demands placed on it by the NSMC’s drill instructors - but because there was simply so much content (eight month’s worth!) to squeeze into thirty days. The intensity (and especially the racism-disguised-as-pranks-and-hazing he’d received from his fellow trainees) had almost been enough to break Masato’s spirit four separate times, but every time the thought of never seeing Haisely again had been sufficient to convince the Minkan to steel his nerves, buckle down, and man up - and he’d ended up surviving. Barely, of course - the previous night had been the first time since moving to Nepleslia that the engineer had gotten a full night’s sleep, and it had been simply fabulous - but he’d made it, an-

Masato’s recollections came to an abrupt and painful thunk as he walked face-first into an armored door. Ā! My face! Why would it not… oh. Right. Nepleslian starbase doors, unlike their Yamataian counterparts, aren’t automated. Curses.

With a shake of the head and a sigh, Corporal Matokai Masato - clad in the standard issue uniform of a Nepleslian marine, with a DataJockey in his right hand and a Styrling Silver Special holstered on his right hip - opened the door and walked onto the viewing deck. Here goes…

A View to a Kill(er Starship)

Upon entering the room and seeing someone higher ranked than himself, Masato immediately saluted - only to realize mid-motion that he was doing the Yamataian salute instead of the Nepleslian one. Yabai! Fortunately, the Minkan was able to correct himself relatively quickly; unfortunately, the he also decidedly awkward while doing so - especially since a blush had crept over his features. “Corporal Matokai, reporting as ordered, ma’am!”

As if to add insult to injury, the engineer then realized what the nationality of the superior in question was. Oh Empress help me, she’s a Jiyuuian! Talk about awkward…
 
When the ten Marines stopped in perfect unison Eric's hand came up in a crisp salute before Ensign Devone, boot heels clipping together smartly. Staring straight ahead, Eric spoke. His uniform was neat, perfectly tailored and fresh from the supply master. His cybernetic arm was polished to a brilliant shine and his dark eyes were clear, a bit of excitement reflected in them as he prepared to receive his first assignment.

"Private First Class Eric Baine reporting for duty, ma'am."
 
Big Green - Medical Lab 23

Quilly's short profile was much to her disadvantage as she left her studies to arrive at the meeting - with flying indoors being banned without a license (and she was far to assed to get one of those figured out), trying to walk through the crowds of marines was quite the struggle. Combine that with the familiar amount of harassment by half-sober SOLs and she was a good 60 DA in bills richer before she even got to the right deck.

Getting herself identified as medical personnel was easy, frankly. With the Rider's extensive and hidden history of succeeding without one, as well as her old experience on the Rokin Isles as S&R, things were almost ready before she'd even gotten to the Big Green. Unlike most of her fellows, and despite her issues, Quilly felt right at home in the masses - these tourists were just more heavily armed than the ones she grew up with, and no sensible Nepleslian would disapprove.

Viewing Deck

The tanned quail saluted with oily smoothness as the officers brought their eyes to her, reporting, "Private First Class, Medical Specialist Quilly Ash reporting as requested." It was unusually formal for her to speak like this, no doubt a show put up to keep the bigwigs from looking at her with too much scrutiny. Her eyes scanned the room, and she noted that she'd beaten Tobias and Lupin here at the least. At least the Yamataian was here, as well as that Walter guy from the ice ball. Two faces she recognized.

After being put to ease, the Elysian joined the group of Marines, giving the new guy a look up and down. He was still fresh and shiny, and his uniform smelled like adhesive and linens. Definitely fresh. He introduced himself as Eric, at least the name was easy to remember.
 
Big Glass Viewing Deck

Tobias entered into the viewing deck with a sense of calm now that he was back amongst the corps. Their retrieval from their last posting couldn't have come soon enough, and he was something approximating eager to see what fresh meat would be thrown into the grinder that the unit had become. It reminded him, he thought somewhat bitterly, of that first deployment with Deuce and Easy Steve on that jungle planet where it had all gone wrong.

He saw several other members of the unit already present as he entered the room, bathed in the twin stark lights of LEDs from the ceiling and starlight from the massive windows lining one side of the room. Quilly, Waller, and the Yamataian, Masato he thought it was, were familiar faces. There were some new ones as well, new even to the service, judging from the fresh looking uniform, an dan attitude straight out of boot. Baine... he'd have to keep an eye on that one until he got a read on him.

Moving to stand near the rest of those he was familiar with, he gave a glance towards the other collection of unfamiliar soldiers. "Corporal Carrick reporting," he introduced himself simply, "I'm looking for an Ensign Devone?"
 
BIG GREEN - A Random Bunk Bed

Gustav awoke to the shrill sound of his alarm, the persistent beeping echoing through the small cabin of his quarters on the colossal spacecraft. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he checked the time and realized he had a bit of extra time before he needed to be at the designated location. With a brief sigh of relief, he decided to indulge in a short nap, trusting his internal clock to wake him in time.

As the second alarm sounded, Gustav snapped awake, his military-trained instincts kicking in. He swiftly rose from his bunk, his movements precise and efficient. The room was Spartan, adorned only with the essentials. A glance in the mirror confirmed his readiness for the day – a seasoned soldier with a strong jawline and a gaze that hinted at a wealth of experiences.

After a quick change into his uniform, Gustav made his way to the ship's communal washrooms. The hum of activity resonated through the narrow corridors as crew members prepared for the day ahead. Gustav, stoic and focused, moved with purpose.

The enormous metallic corridors eventually led him to the docking bay, where rows of sleek spacecraft were neatly lined up, ready for action. The constant buzz of activity enveloped him as mechanics and pilots moved about their duties. A lot of people walking over there and over here.

Uon reaching the designated location, Gustav snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute to his superior.

- "Sir!" Private Gustav reporting.

As the briefing continued, Gustav's thoughts drifted to one enigmatic Elysian. It had been a while since he had encountered their ethereal race, known for their beauty and mysterious nature. He reflected on the need to maintain a professional distance, both from them and his fellow soldiers, a lesson learned through experience.
 
Viewing Deck

The Jiyuian Ensign with the fleet markings of the 4th Fleet started slightly at the rapid berating of loud reports and introductions, a bit of black coffee slurring at the lip of a paper cup she held in both hands that landed several drops on a gloved wrist but seemingly did not burn or no longer steamed. The two privates, unremarkable men both also Jiyuuian born with 1st Shaik patches winced as the Ensign mumbled to herself as she wiped the coffee off her and stood up with the slowness of someone suddenly waking from a nap before straightening herself and giving a Matronly smile and a slow but steady salute back to the group.

With the feminine build of her NI-ARIA body being of average height for a woman with a modest chest in her navy uniform, looking almost like a porcelain doll with long flowing and curled DIoN green hair and piercing blue eyes in her NI-ARIA body it was hard to tell her exact age looking nearly eternally in her mid-twenties as she looked over the assembled marines with absent, glassy eyes before her lips pulled ever so slightly up at the corners in a smile.

nearl devone.png

"Good morning~" Was all she said. Her tone soft, quiet, and warm like a summers morning as she took a long and quiet moment to look over each and every one of the new marines as she looked each and every one of them in the eyes and took in their every detail with soft eyes that somehow peeled back the very layers of their past last bare but offered only a sad smile in recognition and nothing more to those who had greeted her and those who had remained silent.

Leaning over slightly to put her coffee down on the bench only for one of the marines with her to reach down and pick it up as if it would be forgotten otherwise before she straightened up and looked at the group again with a doe-like gaze for a long and pregnant moment.

The marine who had not picked up the coffee leaned forwards to say something to her too quiet to hear as the Ensign seemed to start again as if having forgotten why she was there at all.

"That's right." She said, before once again simply staring at the marines with distant eyes as she fished out a data jockey.

"Lets see... Steelrender Molotra," She looked up and then, confirming the spacer was there looked down before pressing her thumb on the datajockey and continued.

"Waller Redhawk"

She went on to each and every marine. Tobias, Gustav, Eric, Lupin, Rita, Carina, Caffran, and several others. Noting with a cute sound when two of the Canturburys were clearly related, ntoing Wallers absence so far, and as most did lingering on Quilly as the rare Elysian on a Nepleslian military station that she was. She even recited Masatos name with the fluency of someone able to speak Yamataito but remarked no further on him beyond that.

When she was done, as seemed to be norm for the officer she just stared at several of them for a while before continuing.

"My name," Pause. "Is Nearl Devone."

Pause.

"I'm the ships pilot."

Pause.

"Of the Big Deal."

The pauses continued as she explained the Big Deal was a Jackdaw class corvette docked in a neighboring berth that they would soon be relocating to.

"The marines on the Big Deal are part of the Blackguard. The Blackguard-" The two marines with her winced in unison. Not for some secret she might release but anticipating a lengthy explanation as one of them moved to cut off the next hours exposition that would have only taken ten minutes otherwise.

"Ma'am." He interjected, handing the Officer back her coffee which she seemed to be suprised at having forgotten it as she took it and gave it an experimental sip. "Perhaps we should pre-flight the shuttle?"

With a start, Ensign Devone simply turned away from them all and started a slow jog to a set of sealed double doors while the marine who didnt interrupt her walked after.

"Right. While the Ensign is preppring out ride," The marine sighed, sharing a chuckle with some of the other marines at the absurdity before continuing. "Name's Sousmith. PFC, Demolitionist of the fgleets Blackguard, Team Seven". He pointed at a patch much like the one each of them had been issued but instead with a Seven of Spades instead of their four of spades.

"Do any of you know what the blackguard is or do you really want Ensign Devone to spend the next three hours briefing you on that?"
 
BIG GREEN - Bunk room

"I love you." The screen of a beautiful woman with a lightning bolt tattoo over her eye smiled. "Yo también te amo, mi esposo 'fantasma'." Then the screen went blank and Caffran signed. It had been whirlwind wedding. They had both had leave for the holiday and just decided to go for it.

"You about done?" The strawberry blond woman yelled from the other bunk in the room. Caffran looked over at her. I thought you got your ears fixed? Caffran signed using the hand signals the two of them had grown up using.

"I did." Vana answered at a normal volume now. "But I sometimes like to turn them off. Helps tune out distractions. Or private conversations that I really don't want to hear." She smiled mischievously. "I'm really not interested in what pet names you two call each other. Or what sex position is her favorite." Caffran turned a little bit red but smiled. He glanced at his watch. "Time to report in."

They headed for the viewing deck to report in. Caffran rubbed his back. Those skin grafts still itched where he had been shot during that frozen hell called Stenkagorad. Three surgeries to put in a new cybernetic spine and kidney, plus a month of skin grafts and rehab. Stenkagorad would always be a colossal failure in Caff's eyes. Too many damn corrupt politicians and parties involved there. He swore one day he would return to that hell hole just long enough to kill a couple of the prime people who had played with his and his team's lives.

Vana, Caffran's little sister walked next to him. She was back in uniform after having been discharged serval years ago after losing her hearing. After some shady business deal that she didn't talk about, she had earned enough money for some really advanced cybernetics that allowed her to hear again, although half the time it seemed like she turned it off, preferring the silent world. She was one of the best damn shots in their whole clan, and maybe even the whole of the Nepleslian military. Although she had changed professions and was now listed as an animal handler. Her Gunhound, a huge green haired beast named Porky, walked beside her. All three wore their clan's traditional camo-cloaks around their shoulders.

They entered the viewing deck and saluted the officer present. Caffran took note of those of his team who had already arrived and those who hadn't yet.
 
Haisely sauntered into the gathering trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, though unfortunately her new tail was harder to hide than the last, and the ears didn't flatten at all meaning she had walked in as conspicuously as a neko in nepleslia with a blank stare. The benefit though was that she hadn't missed much of the conversation being able to hear it from halfway down the hall.

The cybercat had decided it was probably best to dress how it was requested, even remembering the patch though it was clear she disliked formal attire, or anything that wasn't her usual comfortable and loose clothing with as much movement freedom as she needed. It seemed there was a big boss present and Haisely caught sight of Caffran saluting ahead of her and figured it might be best to continue behaving, giving her own, much less stiff, salute. A briefing sounded like hell, though she was curious about this Blackguard something told her it wouldn't take long to find out as much as she liked if everyone just kept their head down and got through this bore as fast as possible.
 
Ukk System
Gran Base Estelar Verde
Trying (not) to Admire the View


Though Masato - admittedly somewhat distracted by the Ensign’s decidedly feminine figure - was glad to see that he’d been assigned to the “right” squad (given that he recognized Quilly-san, Tobias-san, and Caffran-san from that frozen Empress-forsaken place called Stenkogorad), the sight of Haisely-san made him even happier, as it meant that his fervent prayers to the aforementioned Empress had been answered and that the Nepleslian Space Marine Corps’s equivalent to the Star Army’s Personnel Command had kept the two together. Oh, thank you Empress! Thank you thank you thank you! Alrighty, well… time to mingle, I guess. But before that… “Though I wouldn’t mind a three-hour-long lecture from Devone-Shoi-errrrr, Ensign Devone - I’ve had to sit through much, much longer virtual lectures during my years corresponding with the Kyoto War College - I can’t speak for the rest of my colleagues, thus I’m going to guess it’s something related to the Intelligence and Pacification Group, special forces, black operations, or some combination thereof, given that the IPG uses black-colored M10 Raiders and has an affinity for darker-hued clothing, similar to how Star Army Intelligence personnel wear uniforms with black panels.”

With that said - and the aforementioned lecture hopefully averted - the brown-haired, blue-eyed, and cream-skinned combat engineer sidled his way through the small crowd over to his favorite catgirl; after inhaling, exhaling, and taking a moment to (unsuccessfully) still the raging knot of butterflies that had abruptly invaded his stomach, he continued, “Greetings, Haisely-san. Your new cybernetics look amazing, and you… you look really good in that dress uniform.” Here’s hoping Haisely-san doesn’t give me the cold shoulder or shoot me down like an overzealous anti-aircraft battery…
 
Last edited:
Big Green - Viewing Deck
Lupin, ever stoic and looking like he'd fit in better on the cover of a homoerotic magazine than wearing the rank bar of a PFC, offered some of the newcomers a quick side-eye appraisal. The sniper couldn't help but let his ethereal amber peepers linger on the green gunhound a little longer than intended, while he knew how to act around working animals it'd been so long since he'd last gotten this close to a dog that the urge to squat down next to the mutt and fawn over it was seeming very tempting...

The sniper dragged his gaze back to Devone and straightened up his posture, his well-proportioned silhouette standing at least twice as tall as the diminutive half-tank spacer beside him, sleek non-standard .45 pistol on his hip a hair away from pressing into Molotra's shoulder.

"Same page as Masato, all that comes to mind are redacted dossiers and operations of dubious legality~" Lupin's baritone voice agreed, doubting he was the only person noticing a trend with this type of thing continuing to loom over the group.
 
Haisely saw him approach, internally willing Masato not to say anything, and yet he did anyway. The last thing she wanted was to get chewed out over him talking to her during a briefing or whatever this was meant to be, the footnotes would be somewhere later. OH GREAT, now he's complimenting her, Haisely shot the Minkan a funny look and tried to act like nothing was happening, reaaaaalllly dreading getting punished with an even longer lecture.

"Yeah, cool, shutup." The cybercat half hissed, not intending to be as ruthless sounding as it came across, oh well he can ask for an apology later... But, he was just being nice. 'ah fucking dammit'

"Sorry, I hate being all dressed up like this, and these people seem like they can make you vanish, I'm on edge." Haisely half spat out, not her worst attempt at an apology crossed with an explanation all things considered.
 
BIG GREEN

Ensign Devone continued her presentation, listing the names of the new members of the Blackguard. The piercing gaze of her blue eyes swept over each one present, as if searching for something beyond mere physical appearances. Sousmith, the Blackguard's demolitions expert, interjected to shorten the explanation, aware that the officer might go on for too long.

After Devone mentioned that she was the pilot of the "Big Problem," Gustav's thoughts turned to the task that awaited them. The Jackdaw-class corvette docked at the nearby pier posed a problem that the Blackguard would need to address.

The interaction between Sousmith and Devone, as well as the brief introduction of the demolitions expert, offered a glimpse into the atmosphere within the group. Gustav maintained his military posture, observing and processing information attentively. The mention of the Blackguard and its connection to the Big Deal hinted that this squad was no ordinary one.

With the presentation underway, Gustav patiently awaited the unfolding of events, aware that they would soon embark on a new mission.
 
Big Green - Viewing Deck


"What the fuck?!" A masculine voice shouted as a rising den of hoots and yelling began nearby on the viewing deck. A small crowd had formed a short distance away. A mass of green and tan. An ID-SOL either a Pureblooded which in their own right were as terrifying as one of the venerable and to Nepleslian tastes despised NH-27's or their newer equivalents. The man had to be pushing close to seven feet tall. And his face was twisted in a mixture of pain and pure vehement anger as he staggered back.

Then the den of noise rose higher into shouts followed by a series of what could only be described as metallic thuds. It sounded like someone was trying to battering ram a door down but to any that ended up turning in the direction of the brewing action... a man seemed to fly up in the air to only drop back down. There was another booming thud he rose again with a yell and then groan before hitting the deck as the crowd parted and the Marine's body slid across the smooth floor a short ways clutching at his middle. The brief opening began to close up. But not before a set of small, olive-skinned hands were visible. Their owner it appeared was on the move as the crowd closed off the sight and the SOL charged only to squeal like a stuck pig afterward.

An almost collective groan of sympathy went up from the men and laughter from the female Marines as the ID-SOL's head disappeared into the sea of now chortling Marines. The men's sympathy only extended so far. Whatever'd been done dropped the man to his knees. Then to the floor. And the collected group roared in approval at whatever occurred next.

The man who'd skidded across the deck twitched, moaned: "B-Bitch!" with a cough rising to his feet. His beret forgotten, he spat a bit of tooth tinkled to the polished deck. The private's nose looked broken, his lip split while clutching his right side. Just where the liver would be. Some of the crowd were silent now. A few left, the brief scrap seemed to be over and done with. As more and more began to depart it was evident someone was squatting beside the downed SOL. Their back turned to the rest of the people on the Viewing Deck.

A Marine judging by the uniform. An armband encircling the left arm. A medic? Maybe newly arrived judging by the duffle bag. Still, they had something in their hand. A Hypolathe. The half-bred SOL was all but curled into a fetal position even as the injector on the 'lathe hissed and clicked once it met his thick neck. Short, black hair spilled out from the Medic's beret while they rose to their feet. Not a man, a woman if the curves were any indicator.

"Next time," the voice, clearly feminine spat out in the atypical Funky City gutter accent, "Y'don't tryin' play grab'tha ass wit'me! 'an piss off'tha fuckin' medic!" the woman's voice rising near the end before turning to the side. The cyborg private at this point just limped off muttering enough curses it'd make any other Marine blush like a devout follower of whatever faith that thought it was a sin. He was on his way to Medical or off to sulk somewhere.

But, she removed her beret, running a bloodied knuckled hand through her short hair then proceeding to move her head from side to side. "Fuckers." she muttered to herself. A look of fiery anger tinged with disgust was visible from just the side of her face as she stooped to pick up the duffle bag. With a small hopping motion the strap went over her shoulder and the bag now resting on her back she made a shoo'ing motion toward the slowly rising half-breed.

"Don' be a lil'bitch, I gave'ya painkillers'n nanobots for'ya itty, bitty, peanuts. Now get'tha fuck outta here." All she got was a grunt while the short-statured woman watched him go with her back to whomever else was on the deck.
 
Big Green Viewing Deck

Quilly had to hold back her impatience as the fair Nearl explained the new assignment very, very, very.... Slowly. But she couldn't hide her sigh of relief when one of the pilot's escorting Marines took the lead and directed her elsewhere.

She asked, "Given the Blackguard's reputation - lackthereof, more accurately - I am curious what the Ensign brings them that would cover her..." The Elysian paused, and briefly considered if telepathy might be a means to save her comrades the time it would take for any of the officer's explanations, before continuing, "unique method of communication." Before Sousmith could respond, a scuffle had broken out in the far end of the room, prompting a pout from the little medic. What a way to interrupt a briefing. Fucking enlisted...

The Elysian scooted away from the Yamataians on instinct and with the assistance of rolling her eyes, as Masato started trying to seemingly flirt with Haisley almost instantly, and Quilly thought that this was distinctly not the time. She looked at Sousmith again, eagerly awaiting what he'd say about their new post and pilot.
 
Big Green Viewing Deck

As Tobias observed the Masato's attempt at getting close to the squad's new higher-up and Haisley, he sighed a bit. Having the Yamataian hitting on anything with two legs and two breasts was hardly becoming of a member of their squad, much less an exchange soldier, but he supposed that you couldn't expect much more from a yammie. It seemed like Quilly was also somewhat unamused by the Yamataian's behavior. He offered a commiserating shake of his head to the small Elysian.

Turning to address Sousmith as well. "With a name like 'Blackguard' it's not as if we're likely to be doing anything normal, and judging from this squad's prior assignments, I'd imagine it's not going to be pleasant either. If I had to take a guess, we're going to be going places and doing things that no one else wants to go or do?"
 
"Hey, we are sqeaky clean, model losers..." Molotra responded, shrugging a disgruntled passiveness. The implication was 'on record, as their combined kill count and surface uselessness couldn't have passed certain organisations by. She wasn't too bothered if they continued not to be taken seriously.

...And it was a little harder for her in general, personally, whilst mounted temporarily on a medical auto-chair. Their new armoured body was still being security approved. Even with the gruff tone and thousand yard stare, they were still congnicent of being a cute little ginger haired jellybean, wrapped haphazardly in a comicly oversized uniform on a clunky wheeled plinth.

Stuck in Lupin's shadow not just because his girthy man-thighs made for excellent cover, but also because he was the only one she liked being around in this state. It was embarrassing...

But, at least, the majority of the old gang still seem to have been kept together?

"Maam, before we depart... May I ask if we are expecting void or ground operations?... It would be nice to stock up on some specialized components whilst we still have the chance."
 
The cavernous hangar bay of the "Big Deal" buzzed with activity as Waller strode purposefully toward the awaiting vessel. The metallic echo of footsteps reverberated in the expansive space, a symphony of determination harmonizing with the hum of machinery and distant conversations.

The starship itself loomed like a colossal behemoth, its menacing silhouette against the backdrop of twinkling stars. The words "Big Deal" emblazoned on its hull in bold, commanding letters bespoke both confidence and a hint of the irreverent spirit often found among the Nepleslians.

Waller's gaze swept over the sprawling expanse of the hangar, his brown eyes absorbing the myriad details—the bustling crew members, technicians attending to the intricate needs of the starship, and the distant flicker of holographic displays. The air hummed with a charged energy, the anticipation of departure palpable.

As he approached the embarkation ramp, Waller's hand checked on the sidearm holstered at his side, a familiar weight that gave him a modicum of security. The marine at the entrance acknowledged his arrival, the starched edges of his uniform catching the glint of overhead lights. A few checks of orders and confirmations of berthing and Waller was finally aboard. The passage to the starship's interior felt like a transition between worlds, from the bustling hangar into the controlled embrace of the vessel's corridors. Waller's footsteps echoed in the metallic confines, a steady cadence that mirrored his inner resolve.

The corridors of the "Big Deal" became a labyrinth of anticipation, leading Waller to his assigned quarters. The familiar scent of recycled air and the gentle vibration beneath his boots attested to the living heartbeat of the starship. The confines of the vessel became a new frontier, one where challenges awaited, and the echoes of past triumphs murmured in the spaces between the bulkheads.

In the solitude of his assigned quarters, Waller Redhawk prepared for the interstellar voyage that lay ahead. The stars beyond the viewport offered a silent promise of the unknown—a canvas upon which his next chapter would be written. As he stood at the threshold of a new mission aboard the "Big Deal," Waller couldn't shake the feeling that, in the cosmic expanse, that something was waiting....
 
Viewing Deck

"Special forces," Sousmith responded to to Masato with a snap of the fingers at his statement,

"Yeah. The blackguard was founded by previous Premier and Master General Westwood. When it comes to marines the blackguard is the cream of the crop for high-intensity, low probability of success missions that admirals want done without needing to send half a Shaik at it when a couple hundred blackguard can be deployed to the same task.

On that note the blackguard operate on a fleet-by-fleet basis. Each assault fleet has the right to activate and recruit their own Blackguard teams to their own standards. The 4th fleets has Thirteen blackguard teams. With the whole card-motif im sure you'll get sick of the fleet has each team with a set number from two through ten, jack, queen, king, and Ace team with the first nine representing field teams and the final four being ultra-specialized like the Ace-team being all PA ace pilots, the Kings being all SOL shocktroops, etcetera.

Your patches say Team-4. So you'll be joining the 4th team on field work onboard your new ship-

And the entire marine contingent on your ship will be a part of your team. So don't talk shit to any of the other marines on the Deal thinking you're hot shit because they're liable to knock your teeth out. I am on loan from Team-6 operating off the NSS Rage of Rok'Veru by the way so,"
He looked at Masato and one of his statements from earlier, "If that black raider the Deal has in its inventory is yours; The black one with the hole in the back? I'll give ye nine grand for it, cash. Come see me before the ship touches off and we can get it transfered."

Sousmith chose not to comment on Ensign Devone, ignoring the question to move on.

"Field team missions are varied. It mostly goes that whatever an Admiral feels is too much work to bog down a few hundred thousand marines on. I've been on everything from scouting missions into unknown space, to planting mines on a Red ship and everything inbetween my couple years in the guard. We work pretty closely with The group sometimes too when the blackcoats need a little extra muscle but i've only been on one such OP so don't expect the IPG to come knocking very often especially since the favors they need to pull to get a blackguard team to watch their ass are usually pretty steep.

And as for-"


Sousmith paused at the commotion and scene of Carnias arrival, not seeming the least bit annoyed as he just waited for her to take her place before continuing with if anything the slightest hint of a smile.

"Yeah, you'll learn the rest on the job. Training and all. But if you ask me most of us were recruited for being both a bit too anti-social to work with larger formations of marines but also too efficient or good at getting things done to shitcan us very long. I don't have to guess how most of you ended up here, but if not for that consider it a roll of the dice that your name got picked by some ACE or at random from someone well above your paygrade to fill up a slot in a Blackguard team regardless of experience."

The marines stopped before checking his datajockey and nodding.

"Ensign says the shuttles ready, lets move out. Oh, and you, cyborg." Sousmith nodded at Molotra and her prior question, "You're in the blackguard now. Make a list and submit it to the Deal's ACE and it'll find its way onto the ship before even the mail does. Short of building or bringing onboard anything dangerous to the ship or it's crew we kind of get a blank check for most things that arent restricted to the IPG like that raider so take advantage of that while your ships still docked to the station!"

With that, the marine led the group to a restricted side door that opened with a simple querry and led them down a long, thin and doorless corridor that ended in a set of pnuematically sealed airlock doors that opened with a hiss and let the marines in before sealing up behind them as another set across from them opened after cycling some air as the interior of a shuttle greeted them, bare but for the benches inside and the open cockpit where Ensign Devone was merilly pre-flighting the craft.

Big Deal - Waller Redhawks Quarters

Waller had a scant few minutes to himself before his contemplation was interrupted by not the chime of the comm bell of someone requesting entry into his quarters but instead something akin to the force of a car smashing into a brick wall four times to the point that he could feel the pounding on his cabin doors in his teeth as, despite the sound-dampening he could make out the bellow of

"Somebody home? Open up a bit, won't'cha?" that sounded so deep and gravely like a Lorrfolk demon outside his door trying to gain entry to devour small children and only stopped by some arcane convention of needing permission.

"Do I have the wrong cabin?" It asked, give a much more subtle secondary set of knocks on his door as if unsure...
 
RPG-D RPGfix
Back
Top