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RP: NSS Sledge Mama Ep. 6 Bar at the End of the World

CadetNewb

Well-Known Member
In a quiet, lonely bar somewhere far from home, music played as several hard men and women gathered around to quietly drink. Save for one, they were clad in heavy armor that made them into giants on the battlefield, however, these titans looked anything but energetic. Thickly plated shoulders slumped, it almost looked like they were silently drowning their sorrows in just another bottle, just another shot. With what had happened, there wasn't anything to say. At least, not until now.

"IPG. They're going to get all the credit, aren't they?" the 'bartender' complained. She didn't even swear - they were likely listening after all. Kelly, still 'clad' in the hijacked Super-Militant, had secretly enjoyed playing the role to the hilt, but would never admit that to the others. Meaties were soft and frail, and the rollercoaster of fighting for their lives, then nearly losing the Cyber Neko they were supposed to capture, only to have this unnatural silence from the Black Troopers had the war machine wonder if this was too much for them. The IPG had simply walked in and taken both their POW and Ylfa away while they had to wait here of all places.

"What do you guys think is going to happen next?" the Freespacer wondered, unusually calm. Truth was, Kelly was more wary than she was angry.

And she was always angry, all the time.
 
Yuriko rapped her knuckle on the countertop, nodding toward a small old-fashioned glass that lay empty. "Well. A Nekovalkyrja with cybernetics was technically, for all of the rumors around them impossible. Shit like that? It gets the boys at IPG pitching tents in their skivvies over stuff like this since Yamatai's so damned tight-assed with their technology." while waiting for the glass to be filled, the Sergeant had gone about tying her hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Your Master Sergeant was the CO for your squad; completed the OP. Which paints her in a corner for questioning, standard fare. And likely to have a replacement for her metal heart." the Geshrin woman lounged lazily on her bar stool, arm resting on the countertop. "Not likely they'll black bag her, or you guys. Probably have to sign a bunch of forms stating you won't mention what you saw or heard you know, Non-Disclosure agreements with the general "We will kill you if you do." clause."
 
Jaime was still at his bar stool, quiet and almost unresponsive. He watched the sergeant walk in and tapped the bar himself. He stretched his arms when he was sure he wasn't going to hit anyone. He seemed to watch the sergeant's pony tail in an idle, out-of-mind, way before shaking his head and his eyes back forward. He gave a nod to the sergeant, "Hear no evil, see no evil."

He looked at Kelly and gave a smile, which seemed hollow still, "I'm going to have one more of those, please. You're doing this so well." His joke seemed shadowed by something but he seemed to be all there still. He turned in his seat to face the sniper but didn't say anything, instead choosing to look at the rifle that she was carrying.

It was safe to say Jaime was a little out of his local element, though probably just didn't know what to say at this point.
 
Richard sat in a seat away from the bar, he had gotten out of his armor and was just leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, he didn't feel like drinking at the moment at all. "If the IPG wanted this shit so much why can't they get out here themselves and handle it?" He groaned a bit angrily. "I don't really care for credit that much, but but we deserve more than hush orders and threats after that."
 
"Plausible Deniability," Yuriko answered while raising a hand; indicating to the bartender just what she wanted (Scotch) and with two fingers just how much of it to pour. "If the package were to be a new Yamataian weapon, or NH-Model, it'd be incredibly valuable as well as important. Thus, making it a badass security risk if captured. The IPG moving out in the open would indicate to Catland that the Nepleslian Government has taken an unique interest in it."

The Sergeant could but shake her head, "Using grunts like us though, well that's a whole other kettle of fish. They could point to us as and bob's your uncle. In other words, we are a scapegoat and cover. Well, that's what I think if I were both sides anyways."
 
Settled like a slender black ant among huge green ants, Alexis sipped at what had turned into her fourth glass of whisky or scotch or something. Afterwards, she set it aside and settled her cheek upon her crossed, metallic arms, kicking her feet beneath the stool and waiting.

She was a Prisoner. But the IPG had missed her over, apparently, because she lacked the actual association with the enemy, all of her potshots not withstanding. Maybe they had assumed she were a part of the squad, she assumed, or something like that. Either way, she genuinely hoped that the IPG stayed right down there in the bay, mucking with Jerry, and far away from her ship. The only people who needed to go near that thing were engineers, and preferably only if they had replacement parts.

"You're Yamataian," Alexis observed, speaking with just a little bit of cursive. "I don't see a lot of you around here. Uh, I know you're like, all talking with each other and stuff, but I thought I'd ask anyway."
 
The Sergeant laughed, "Parents are, were baseline Nepleslian turned Geshrin due to political bullshit back before Yamatai was formally Yamatai and known as Geshrintal. I was born'n bred on Nepleslia, Los Apagos specifically. My parents had become fed up with all the shit back then." her expression turned wistful, "Thankfully they missed that plague."

"Guess I picked up a bit of my folks' mannerisms'n shit. Otherwise, I'm full-blooded Nepleslian to the core."
 
The usually loud, usually rude, usually outright flippant Freespacer simply doled out drinks in grim silence as the squad chatted away. Just what was she thinking about? One had to wonder. Kelly had no love for Yamatai of course, and perhaps even hated them. One could ask what she felt about the horror that they had witnessed, and not know the answer for certain.

"Heads up guys. We got company," the war machine spoke to them all. Though they heard a young maiden's voice, as always, Kelly spoke with the rough, gruff demeanor of a hardened marine. . As the door hissed open, they all settled eyes on the figure standing there, happily waving at them all as though everything was right in the world. Short at maybe five feet tall, fat, and with thick legs and a matching tail, reptilian eyes looked at each person in turn. It was a Delsaurian. One dressed in some jeans and a green shirt with a ragged looking backpack on its back.

"Hola!" it waved at them all. "So, I'm in charge of everything, and right now, it's like, 'What the fuck is this shit?!' you know? So's, I needs you all to go finds some stuffs for me. Sound fun?" the short, fat reptilian asked them.
 
"Yes. Fun. Dancing in a fit of joy." Stripe deadpanned. Really? Being sent to do something already, without a squad leader? Actually...

Turning to face the Delsaurian, he tried to go for a apologetic approach, opening his arms wide with a shrug."No offence intended, but what authority do you have to back up that order? Merely want to know who I'm dealing with and how deep we are." He said, hoping things weren't about to go pear-shaped. Things weren't exactly going well today.
 
The Delsaurian's big green eyes blinked once, slowly and leisurely as it made a show of scratching its scaly chin in thought.

"Hmmm, well. Let me see, maybe you're just almost balls deep?" the short and chubby alien replied. "I guess you can go all the way if you really want to know my name," it offered. "No pulling out though. Not that that even works." As it said this, their HUDs lit up and identified the Delsaurian as a friendly, and one with an anonymous IPG tag as well. With what little motion it could make of its largely immobile face and the way its mouth simply hung open at them, it was pretty obvious what it was doing.

It was grinning at them all.

"You really want me to answer though? I can, if you want."
 
IPG, she had friends in the IPG. Ever since saving a few of their asses on Hukka from a re-programmed NH-18. Of course that had been another time. One where she'd been a Taii, and captained the second and last of the Himiko-class prototypes. All to save a dear friend on the world, she'd negotiated with the Nepleslian government who had claimed the territory. Had hit the ground with them and several IPG spooks who wanted to observe her movements. Paranoid bastards. In the end, they'd had to orbitaly bombard the area to kill the thing. Afterward, it'd been cigars and brandy with the Grand Admiral overseeing the Operation. Heck, she even managed to get his gun as a souvenir.

Moving to Nepleslia had necessitated a new name, a new identity and body. All of which the IPG and other government officials had prepared.

The Sergeant grimaced at the drink she'd been served. Piss poor whiskey. Stuff was little better than thin motor oil. All the same, it was knocked back.

"Well get on with telling us what 'Stuffs' you want us to find." she said without even looking in the Delsaurians' direction.
 
Richard looked at the Delsaurian as he entered the bar, getting an uncomfortable feeling. Richard had gotten pretty good at spotting trouble of all kinds while he worked with the gang, and this Delsaurian felt like trouble. Not the shoot out at high noon kind, but the worst kind, the ones that'll send you straight into a kill box and expect you to come out.

Richard sighed, he didn't need any more trouble today, but he was military now and actually had to follow orders, so he couldn't just refuse, not if he wanted to keep his career. He nodded in agreement with Yuriko and then spoke up. "Whether we know your name or not you're still going to make us do it, so let's just call you 'him' or something."
 
"Eh, you can all just call me Nak," the chubby alien shrugged.

"I'm just so glad to hear you're all so eager though - here I thought I'd have to go fetch it all myself!" its stubby tail eagerly wagged. Lies. All lies. "Nothing like the personal touch, you know?" Despite it's somehow cute appearance, its shining white teeth glinted at them, the rows all sharp and pointed. Without a doubt, 'Nak' had quite a bite. "We basically need information to be gathered from the non-centralized systems, and the bits we can't access from the command section anymore. You know. Video security footage from closed circuits, nav-records from the docking bays, equipment logs from the assembly and storage areas. Those sorts of things." Looking back and forward between them all, a thought came up to it.

"Oh, I know! Who wants to go to the assembly area first and get the production logs for me? Hm?" the way it asked, it was almost like it were a school teacher talking to some kids.

"5Cr3W Y0U YoU F47 ...uh." She wasn't sure if they were supposed to be fat. "Wait, is skinny supposed to be an insult instead?" The Delsaurian, amazingly enough, scratched its head in confusion.

"I dunno. I always see us like this - this is normal! But anyways, who is first? I want groups of three - one to get cut down, one to get shot, and the third to get away. I remind yous all, this is a combat zone still, and we can't even fully patrol the place with the losses taken!" it reminded them. "So. Who's up first for the assembly area?"

With a static washed sigh, Kelly raised her hand first.
 
Stripe just stared at Nak, one eye twitching. "...You know what? Sure. Let's get this over with." He vented as he walked over to where Kelly was. He had a feeling this insanity was business as usual- perhaps he'd made the wrong career choice after all.
 
Jamie just shook is head as he stood up and began walking to where he parked his Hostile, "This is going to be a nightmare, isn't it." He opened up the back and jumped in, the shield seemed to move a bit on his left arm as the suit closed in around Jamie. He still didn't have a helmet. He began walking over to Stripe and Kelly, "Someone find me a helmet if possible, because I am on the verge of being deaf."

He held his HPAR and toggled the safety on to make sure that he wasn't going to 'money shot' the ground or something similar. The suit began hitting him with a stim to manage his raised alcohol level, as well as his heart rate. He looked at the Delsauran with an unimpressed face that looked tired more than anything else waiting for what he was going to say or order.
 
Stripe turned to Jamie with a sheepish look on his face, embarrassed. "Yeah, about that- sorry about that. Drinks on me next time we're on leave?" He asked, hoping he sounded more confident then he felt. He really didn't want the people who had his back wanting to shoot him in it, even if he may have earned their ire.
 
"Oh, that sounds great! Count me in!" the short reptilian replied.

With that, the squad divided themselves up to help search its grounds. It held numerous secrets, some they guessed at, and some that they could only imagine. In the end though, everything they grabbed at the beck and call of the happy, fat little lizard was something that their eyes simply couldn't comprehend, or utterly mundane and sensible. As they did this monotonous work, carefully navigating the now dead station, they were careful to clear room after room. The shadows tugged at their minds and played tricks with their fears. Worst of all, they were without not only Ylfa, their squad leader, but Kelly as well - both were in the care of the IPG.

Dark times were ahead it seemed.

***********

NSS Sledge Mama
Hyperspace


Even the familiar halls of the Sledge Mama didn't quite get rid of the feeling of doom and gloom that hung over them all.

As a ship of the Democratic Imperium of Nepleslia, there was always some sort of job to be done. Marines were usually busy either repairing their gear, in some cases themselves, or getting some R&R in. And of course, the Sledge Mama had provisions for each of those; it had to. Otherwise, marines cooped up in confined places would start getting stir crazy and do something like punching bulkheads. The VR Room that Ylfa frequented was always open, and though she was nowhere to be found at the moment, Kelly was in the machine shop instead. Her old chassis needed new parts, and the Super Militant she was in gave people the creeps.

And of course, there was always the sound of idle chatter, drinking and pool balls clinking off of one another at the bar. With fewer marines than normal though, it somehow felt empty.
 
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NSS Sledge Mama
Machine Shop

Jaime had rigged his Hostile up nearby to Kelly, but he was wearing welding glasses and couldn't see shit. He was fixing the battle damage he had sustained as well as testing an idea. Leaned up on the power armor's back was a heavy shield, propped up by a tool kit to make sure it wouldn't slide off. He had replaced a few plates that had fractured as well as replace the helmet and was making sure that the seals would seal completely.

He hummed quietly, zoned into his work. After a bit of welding and maintenance, he went to the armor's left arm, beginning to hold up what looked like the handles for a heavy shield. To a quick glance, it looked like he was trying to find an actual way to mount a shield on the arm of the Hostile, with quick detach mounts. Jamie himself thought himself smart for attempting this, but had no idea if NAM had already done something for this or not.
 
NSS Sledge Mama
Machine Shop

Down to uniform pants, boots and a wife beater, the Sergeant that had abruptly fallen into their world. She seemed to have been bivouacked aboard the Sledge Mama for whatever purpose remained to be seen. While Kelly, in her heavily armored killing machine body, went about her work. Jaime went about his, Yuriko did the exact same. Except she had a whole damned Hostile in the Machine Shop. Her Hostile. Armor plating was off in places, exposing wiring and whatever bits of technojargon you could toss around. Earbuds filled her skull with the thumping beats of some unknown music to which her head bobbed to.

Reaching to a nearby kit, she pulled out a soldering iron; flourishing it with the practiced ease of a born knife fighter. Twirling its spindly body between fingers, she then hunched over what lay on a table opposite of Kelly. A deconstructed Plasma Drive. Its guts as exposed as some poor prom date's unmentionables. Soldering wire in hand, iron in the other she began to go about what those in the field called "Fucking Rocket Science." Thankfully there were no fuel injection systems connected, otherwise, the room would have been cooked after her bit of soldering was complete. For after she'd done so, carefully, as careful as a Marine nursing a hangover, or mother with a wee babe, she attached a nondescript ring studded with wire, circuits, and the bright chrome finish of something freshly out of the box. An ionic ring system. Not standard fare for Hostiles.

Half the shit on her table wasn't even recognizable to the uninitiated. Screws and latches secured, wiring hooked to the main plasma drive unit. The whole thing had gone off without a hitch, and her hips swayed to the mysterious beat bumping into her skull. Next came two miniature beer can shaped whatever the hell they were which also got a wiring and securing job. Turning about, the Geshrin sauntered back toward her suit to pluck a Datajockey from the deck.

Hooking it into the drive, Yuriko began a rapid staccato tapping on its touch screen either oblivious to Kelly and Jaime, or just not plain caring they were there.
 
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