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  • 📅 December 2024 is YE 46.9 in the RP.

RP: NSS Alliance [Marine JP group] Starship Troopers

( JP Between me and RazealK )

John sorted out the enemys weapons, almost holding back a chuckle at thier simplicity "Geez will you look at these things Fian?"

Uh uh." Fian replied, releasing the chamber and clip of one bloodied handgun and flicking off some grey matter stuck on it. He flung the empty pistol halfway across the room into the designated boxes. "I bet you cant do that."

"Yeah I would if I wanted them to go off. There's always a chance you know. I don't suppose they want us to hose these guns down as well?" John continued seperating and sorting the weapons, never having seen quite so much blood before, especially Nepleslian.

"Heh." Fian chuckled as he flung another one. "Unless these guns have some kind of hidden shit like that guy earlier." Fian paused for a while, now that he reminded himself of his earlier outburst. "Say, do you think I might have went too far back there? Hitting that guy like that?"

"Nope" John continued releasing chambers and clips, wishing he had a more interesting assignment but feeling useful none the less. " Of course, I would have prefer the mission went a little better, without enemies popping up everywhere, but that's just me."

"Heh." Said Fian again. "Okay, minus the fact that half the squad is incapitated or dead, didn't you feel some kind of thrill?" Fian looked down and noted that his pile of guns were almost done.

John finished off his share of the guns and stowed the crates, starting on the power armors. "Of course I got a thrill, you seemed to enjoy it a bit more then the rest of us though" John smirked a little, remembering having to drag Fian in his power armor away from the enemy in the tunnels.

Fian took one end of the Demon John was carrying and the both of them lifted it off the floor. "Its my guilty indulgences, shhh, don't tell anybody." Fian shot John a wink.

John chuckled a bit "Ok Fian, my lips are sealed"

Soon after that, one by one the heavy armors were shifted to the stores with further small chat between the two. "Phew!" Fian exhaled while surveying their work. "See you at the cafeteria. I'll buy you a drink if the sarge doesn't!" He tapped John on the shoulder as he walked away.
 
Food for thought

Well they all seemed well enough to be hungry, and that was always a good sign. He didn't exactly know what happened on the ground, but he was proud of how things ended in the medical room, not only of himself but of the marines; never too 'manly' or 'badass' to request some comfort food. He never expected things to turn out this way and it left him questioning even more about himself, but that would have to wait.

"Alright I'll be back in a bit with those orders. Don't get too used to it, once you're healthy again I'm going back to being a hard ass on you guys."

Before leaving Chris shouted to Valo.

"Yo, hunk of metal. Think you can at least try making small talk with these guys? It'd make things a lot easier on them."

And with that he left for the kitchen.
 
"Cmon, John. We've just been relieved." Sergeant Ran saluted the squad leader of Squad B that had arrived to take over the prisoners while Ran and his team went to the mess hall to be briefed. "I'll tell ya all about it." He tilted his chin up at the Sergeant, likewise receiving it back. "John, we're gonna talk a walk through the med bay. Give 'em some support before we head to get something to eat." Ran needed to remind himself and John of the importance of teamwork; something that was desperately needed by everyone in this battle. And, him being a bit masochistic with his inner self, needed to look at the pain and suffering that he could have prevented. A way of punishment. "Lets get our Power Armors off." He didn't even wait for John, being caught up in too much.

A few minutes later, Ran was standing over a particularly wounded Soldier 3rd Class, who was currently missing his right leg below the knee, still writhing in pain and clenching his teeth despite the morphine. Ran's lips were gone, pursed so tightly while he tried to contain himself. His hand went out immediately to clutch the wounded S3C's hand as he clenched it during a particularly painful spasm of the muscles in his amputated leg. "Hold steady, Marine. You haven't been given permission to die." He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, as if he thought that would be reassurance to the young S3C. When he was finally shooed out of the med bay, he put his dress uniform right back on, before taking a long, hard look at the insignia of the Nepleslian Planetary Infantry (Assuming they have one) embroidered on the flash on his beret.

He sighed, as if letting out a great flood from his chest area onto the cold floor in front of him, cleansing himself only for the moment. He'd pay later. With muted pride, he placed the beret onto his head as soon as the automatic doors to the mess hall opened, allowing for him to walk into the room and sit amongst the enlisted men rather than the NCOs.
 
Miller stood on the stage of mess hall, a somber look on his face laced with anger in his eyes.

"Alliance, connect my voice to all sections of the ship, except where our prisoners are being held."

A simple beep from above acknowledged the captain's order. Miller cleared his throat and began.

"Men and women of the NSS--I'll skip all the formalities, because we just don't need them right now... fuck it."

"We lost some good men today:

Chris McRoberts
Al Ossen
Carl Waters
Shaun Young
Luke Zastrow

all died honorably on the field of battle today, in the service of our empire. Let us be silent for a moment..."

He bowed his head.
 
"What the fuck." Ran thought to himself in response to Captain Miller's somber attitude. He was indeed sad that these men had been lost from the Nepleslian Empire, but he apparently saw things in a different way than the others. "These men did a fine job out there. Instead of mourning their deaths, why not instead celebrate the fact that such good men were a part of us?" Again, these were all private thoughts, and instead of lowering his head, he offered a brief salute to them, then lowered his head.
 
The static of the radio silence crackled over the speakers, a somber message for all the men who still lived.

In the medical room, those who were not drugged into unconsciousness held their normally-vulgar tongues in check. Only the clicking and shifting movements of the metallic Valo disturbed the peace.

After about 15 seconds, Miller's voice returned, firm and steady.

"These men did a great service to their country, and they'll be sorely missed. They were good people, too, great guys to be around.â€
 
Food on the go

Chris tried to block out the captain's speech while cooking food for the wounded with the help of the staff. He never could understand how males showed their emotions, so different from what he had grown accustomed too. They always seemed to try and keep a strong front no matter what the situation, and that had always confused him. He still heard the speech for the most part, but he never gave himself time to think about the things that were said.

He did hear the "arriving in 10 minutes" part, which would make all this food be a waste if they got it after they landed. Grabbing a few large plates of food he took what was ready to the people in the med lab via cart.

"I told you boys you'd be as good as new. We'll be able to get you proper medical assistance in no time. Here's the food I promised, eat up; the captain might want to have you walk on your own feet seeing as this is sure to draw some attention from the people."

As soon as the words left his mouth he thought better of them.

"Of course that doesn't mean anything. Remember I'll deal with anyone that gives you trouble."

Glancing at Valo the robotic like function of how it performed its task continued to sicken him.
 
Rico leaned back a bit in his seat and crossed his arms, smiling slightly as the Captain finished his oration. The other marines and crew members around him also began to loosen up a bit. However, Rico had a lot of things shooting through his mind. Most of the injuries had been in his squad, and a few of them weren't looking too good when he shot a glance into the medical bay on his way to the mess hall. He took a guess that command would be sending in a new set of marines to replace both the dead and the seriously injured. Rico pondered if he would get reassigned when this happens...

Maybe to a squad that doesn't pull guard duty all the fuckin' time. And two combat sims a day?! Shi~t...

Rico then turned his thoughts to the return to Nepleslia. A two-day shore leave wasn't long...but it was plenty of time to get a few things done, and perhaps have a little fun on the side.
 
The caretaker staff was indeed working at a high pitched pace to keep the warm food coming for the soldiers to help calm them down. "It's days like this that make this job suck." one of the women said with a sigh as she continued to cook the food up and such. Jet on the other hand was pacing in the hallway outside, thinking about the situation as he listened to what Miller had to say about it all. He was staying here in case stuff broken down and security would be needed, he had yet to assign a kind of police squad for shifts on the ship.
 
The Captain's speech had left him emotionally drained, and he walked out of the mess hall, feigning a routine trip to the bathroom before the NSS Alliance docked at Nepleslia. Sneaking a bottle of liquor out of the stretchy left sleeve of his uniform, he immediately drank from it as soon as the automatic doors opened, caught in mid-drink by Jet. Unsure, at the moment, of Jet's rank he simply put the liquor away and half-saluted him, walking off. Grabbing a shaving razor from his room, he cut away the rather long hair that grew on his head, replacing it with a very close-shaved mohawk, preparing to hit the bars on Nepleslia.

"Fuck me, 2 training sims." His voice seemed to echo in the plastic coffin that was the restroom he sat in, becoming sickened at the greenish color that the fluorescent light bulbs colored his skin. He splashed some warm water on his face and upper body, letting the white undershirt wrapped around his midsection soak the water, preventing it from dripping on the khaki cargo pants that he wore. "I guess that we'd lose less people that way, next time." He sighed, still numbly remembering the feeling of a fellow Marine in front of him vaporize before his own eyes. Another untold story, sacrificed to the meat grinder known as war.

"Fuck!" His curse combined with the bang that the counter made when his fist hammered it, the spittle from his mouth spewing forth onto the bathroom mirror in front of him. Remembering the Captain address the men lost in an 'afterlife' fashion, pretending they could hear him. "It's all bullshit. All bullshit." He sighed, wiping the spit from his mouth and placing a clean white under shirt and his uniform pull over onto his muscled frame. "We live, die and disappear." He sighed, walking back into the mess hall.
 
Matt had kept his post upon the bridge as the ship headed back to Nepleslia at a decent speed. His mind was fraught with what had happened at Planet X and their encounter with the Reds. Sure, they had succeeded, but it was a costly victory. He was silent the entire time, even on through the speech the Captain made. After all, it was only him and the computer up on the bridge really, or at least only those two with the lack of attention he had on his surroundings.

"The Captain is right to be angry," he mumbled cooly as he kept the sensors on passive. "There should have been less casualties down there...but...the only thing you can do now is learn from the past and move on," he muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the eye strain occurring from staring at the screen for too long. Focusing his eyes forward, the young warrant officer couldn't help but frown and scratch his head. "I wonder if the old man is back from the transport run to Yamatai," he thought calmly.
 
The marines who were served food took it from the support staff with great appreciation. Anything was welcomed as a distraction for the physical and mental pain they had experienced.

Conversation began to pick up in the medical bay and the mess hall, slowly at first, before building and blending into a pleasant background noise starkly contrasting from the silence earlier.

Even the captain himself had loosened up a little now that the crew seemed to return to life. He excused himself and left the mess hall.

~~~~

Exactly 9 minutes and 23 seconds later, Ally's voice sounded over the ship's communications.

"Star Base Ayenee has been notified of our arrival. All personnel prepare to disembark. Please enjoy your two days of shore leave."

The return time was then uploaded to every soldier's communications device or datapad.

~~~~

The marines formed an orderly queue at the Alliance's shuttle bay. Some were unable to stand on their own and needed the support of their brothers-in-arms. The Alliance shuddered while entering the star base, but was soon stilled by the docking mechanisms of the massive station.

The engines shut off, and the large bay doors slowly opened.

Home at last!

~~~~

Captain Miller sat on the bridge, staring at a holographic display showing the marines leaving the ship, surrounded by medical and support staff from the Star Base.

"...So, what are you going to do during your leave," he asked Lionheart. "Have any plans?"
 
"I'm heading to a bar." He said out loud to most of the enlisted men, inviting anyone to join him, if they wished. He took a look at the hull of the NSS Alliance as he walked from the ramp down to the port, unloading his .45 service pistol's magazine and placing it in his pocket, holstering the pistol itself at his right thigh. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit them, filling the air with acrid smoke, something probably new to a few of the Marines on the NSS Alliance. "John, I said I'd buy you a drink. Fian, you guys wanna come along too?" He smiled, letting the cigarette dangle in the right corner of his mouth.

He preferred sticking with the lower Enlisted men, finding the majority of the Sergeants here to be a bit hard to relate to. Hell, he was fine just being a regular Soldier Class, but then again, rank has it's privileges. "Ok, for our simulations, we'll be back tonight at..." He checked his watch, figuring that he'd need 2 hours to drink and 2 to find some whore somewhere, if he was lucky enough to find a woman in this city, and one hour to get back. "We're going to be back here in 5 hours." He shouted, clapping his hands back and forth in wide arcs, getting his squad's attention. "Anyone arriving late is washing my balls with their toothbrush for the next week, THAT CLEAR?!" He'd rather that Cadet Willis not address the squad; in fact, he did it so Willis didn't need to waste time.

"On that note, have a merry fuckin' time." He took his beret off and placed it in his belt on the left side and ran off to the nearest bar, that mohawk-shaven head bouncing amongst the other Marines.
 
Food for thought

When the ship landed Chris made sure he was gone from the med bay to stay out of the way, among a few other reasons.

Two day shore leave, what to do? He had no real intention of going home despite being able to see his mother. What he really wanted to do was just hold up in some place undisturbed and away from men in particular. He initially thought of staying on the ship, but the maintenance crews would probably be around all the time, so that option was out. Money was another problem since he was trying to save up.

<i>Ah damnit, you're gonna have to think of something here. I guess I'll just go find a restaurant or something and think it over. I haven't been able to look after myself after today's ruckus.</i>
 
Rico took a big breath as the Nepleslian air rushed into his lungs. He grinned widely, and let out a huge sigh of relief, always happy to get some of that faint, familiar smog into his lungs. As the handful of marines filed out of the bay door, one of the marines in the front began to propose a trip to a local bar. Rico wasn't exactly sure who said it, but was sure everyone was planning the same thing.

"Hell yes!" Rico laughed as he responded to nobody in particular, and slung his arm over the shoulder of the closest marine. "'bout time, too. These damn ships don't carry any of the good stuff, y'know baby? Good shits' gotta be made with love!"

Rico spoke loudly to his fellow soldier, but kept his eyes moreso to the farther side of the ship, where a few of the female cooks and caretakers silently made thier way into the non-marine crowd. Rico raised and eyebrow and ran his free hand through his hair. "Speakin' of love...heh, maybe find a little action too, eh baby?" he said as he prodded another nearby marine in the ribs lightly with his elbow. Rico snapped back to attention as a few of the marines began to move again...

Eehh...visits can wait. I got two days.
 
Valo made it's way out of the medical bay. Being as it was now covered in a large degree of blood, it was maknig it's way towards the mens showers. Despite being genderless it did look like a man and false flesh needed to be cleaned much like the real thing.

Walking into the shower room it became obvious Valo was going to need to crouch down in order to make full use of the shower heads.
 
Fian had been doing some deep thinking lately since the Captain's speech. Mostly about ethics, the price of war and more philosopical stuff but evidently it didnt take him anwhere at all except being a little more miserable. He tucked the thick card shaped device that housed Elsae into his breast pocket.

It didnt take the Vel Steyr long to figure out what to do next, his brain was already warmed up for processing.Lets see, I wanna drink some with the sargeant and I dont want to find a whore, which leaves me two hours to see Elsa, Karl and Melchoir.

You'll probably be too drunk to see your siblings once the sarge is done with you. Whispered Elsae into Fian's earpiece.

"Oh not when I have these!" Fian whispered back slyly. He pulled out a bunch of pills from his pocket. "Emrys post-hangover and sober pills. The medibay guys gave them to me after I related my vodka episode."

Fian was drawing unwanted attention from his fellow soldiers at the mention of the miracle pills. He quickly replaced the packet and hurried after the sargent.
 
"Alright, boys." He playfully punched Rico in the left bicep, unaware if he might have punched him too hard or not. "We're goin' to the best bar in the fuckin' area. It smells like piss and has seen it's share of brawls, but it's got the biggest fuckin' selection I've seen." With a grin that stretched his leathery skin, he gave a gloved thumbs up to Fian, who had just joined them. "John, I'm treating you to all you want. Fian, make sure he doesn't do stupid shit." He took his arm off Rico's shoulder and cupped the end to a cigarette being lit in his right hand, finding a home in the left corner of his mouth.

"We'll be there for two hours, in which after you guys can do whatever you want." He bent himself backwards, popping his lower and mid-back, finding it rather hard to walk while doing so. "Make sure you don't fuck the regular Nep women here, or your dicks will shrivel up and rot off." Even though STDs were non-existant, he told his men such things in an attempt to get them the fuck away from Nepleslian women. "I hate those bitches." He sighed, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
 
A planet too far a ship too near

Chris was still perplexed, and remained at the ship's exit while the rest walked off to the promise of booze. He didn't want to be noticed at that particular time. He did find out where he wanted to eat though: a nice, small, preferably cheap, restaurant where he could sit by himself and enjoy some nice pasta.

Maybe seeing mom wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, she could help me...but I don't want her help, at least not this time. I wanna figure this out alone, but I have no idea how to go about it. That damn Damascus, his damn mansion was the death of my social life!

With that final thought Chris began walking off towards the direction he hoped was food; his loathing of men rejuvenated.
 
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