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RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Mission 1.1] The Nepleslian Job

As Matteo listened to the briefing intently, he took special note how it quickly degraded into something else entirely. Phaedra in particular seemed agitated, but given the fact that she was the straight-soldier out of the motley bunch, he wasn't surprised at all. In fact, it was hilarious.

Harm's antics however, were what caught him off guard. This far in, she'd come off as distant, and even uncaring, even with the recent bit of niceness towards Phaedra. After all, who's to say that was the norm for Harm? Maybe it was just the moment? And even more importantly, did this comedy make up for it all? No, of course not. She'd still get them killed, but at the least, he'd get a good laugh from her. "Harm, I"m not even sure I want to know where'd you got that last part with the hornets." He spoke dubiously, shaking his head before trying to assuage the team's resident Veteran. They all simply Needed her in the best shape possible in order to survive the upcoming fights.

"Phaedra, don't let it get under your skin. You've seen more than we have, but that doesn't mean you're used to dealing with Nekos." He offered up a grin. "Believe me, standard operating procedure gets tossed out of the window when they're involved." He risked a grin back at Harm. "Not that it's a bad thing of course." The former hitman walked out with a wave. "I'll be seeing to that uniform Sir." Matteo spoke, saluting. "Good luck in here."

One thing that Matteo had learned since joining the military was that they were all about uniforms. They didn't teach you how to fire a rifle or use a grenade first, no, they made sure you knew how to take care of the damned uniform! Every single fold, puff of starch...then again, it made sense. It was Nepleslia after all, and what Nepleslian didn't know their guns and grenades? Yes, it made perfect logic. And the uniform also represented the face of the military; maybe that had something to do with it too. He shrugged.

When the Private neared his quarters however, Drei passed a message along. Avel. Her previous words during the mission echoed through his head. 'I thought she was just joking?' Apparently not. He rolled his eyes in expectation of something rather silly. When Matteo found himself in front of her however, it was anything but silly. Avel was dead serious.

Matteo however, wasn't in such a serious mood.

"I don't know..." he replied, drawn out with a childish sarcasm. "How much I'd pay? It all depends on where it's all taking place at. Wouldn't you say?" Matteo asked, continuing on the playful banter. "In an upscale neighboorhood, it'd all be in the hundreds of KS, not DA even." He explained, adding in a dash of hope to the profit minded woman. "But I'm from a poor neighboorhood, so it's in DA, and in two digits, not three." He smiled.

"And I don't want to get punched in the face either, so I'll say you're pretty." Matteo went on, his smile widening further. "But, but! I also don't want to lie, so there." He quickly added on, hoping to avoid a swift uppercut.
 
Avel was more then a little annoyed at the man's behavior but she needed the money and beating him up would no doubt put an end to that plan. So she decided to keep on talking and hopefully he'd be interested.

"I'm kind of broke right now so any amount would be good." She said as she leaned back and reached for her bra strap. "You'll get to touch me anywhere you want and in any way you desire. Including these..."

With that said she tugged at her bra and undid the strap. Which sent it flying directly towards his face.
 
Harm mostly ignored Phaedra’s insistence that she refer to Wazu as Admiral, deciding it would be better to get moving on the mission rather than get bogged down in semantics.

Wazu would get up from the briefing table, “Had one brought to this building’s armory.” He said, heading into the side room that was filled with weapons and equipment. A large footlocker was also here, one of the items brought in by the junker drones. He would press a few buttons on his datapad to have the container unlocked.

“It should be more than sufficient to break the hardened glass on the exterior of the Casino.” Wazu said, “You should still take one of the standard Sharpshooter Rifle’s too. The smaller rounds would be far less overkill for black syndicate goons.

Which brings me to what other gear you will be taking. If we use a chopper to drop you off on the administration tower then we will have to use it to pick you up as well, or you will need to parachute off so we can pick you up in the halftrack.

I also do not expect you to wear a power armor for this operation, but it is going to be very cold. Malaise does not get above 50 degrees ever.”
 
Matteo's hand automatically caught the flung underwear like a person in their sleep would automatically roll over and away from a cold spot. As for his mind? The human mind could be personified or represented as numerous things, and in this case, a small rodent in an exercise wheel was very astute; it ran, ran and ran in its little wheel before tripping, spinning end over end as the wheel kept on turning. Simply put, Matteo's mind had to stop and figure out just what was going on. The man quietly set the black undergarment off to the side as he did a once over of Avel before locking onto her eyes.

"Listen..." He started, scratching the back of his head, apparently ill at ease. "I'd come to expect a lot of things from a lot of different people, but that. Well." Matteo frowned hard, pressing his lips thin as he searched for the right words. "I'd expected that to come from any of the Cats. Harm included. You're coming on too easy and too strong. I got to turn you down this time." By now, Matteo was making his way out the door. "I don't mind T&A, especially yours, but where's the fun if you don't get to chase it?"

As the door to Avel's quarters shut closed, he shook his head. 'Damn. She's probably going to think I'm gay or something. Real shame.'
 
Laura hung back, watching Phaedra speak to the Admiral. She was edgy. It probably wasn't nerves. Phaedra was walling herself off for a reason. What it was, Laura could not fathom - especially since she knew nothing more than the woman's medical history. This unit was really broken...More so than any regular Marine unit. Which meant that as the most brilliant medic in the universe, Laura would have to rise to the occasion once more.

She made a mental note of things to do before the mission.

1) Speak to the Admiral about Cedric
2) Check in with Phaedra
3) Check in with Avel's concussion
4) Check in with Cedric
5) Order breakfast in bed
Click to expand...

"Sir, when you have a moment," Laura said, leaning against the far wall.
 
For a few seconds Avel stared at the door where Matteo previously was. Then she felt the all too familiar rage that seemed more like madness surging into her mind and she grabbed the nearest object that would fill the unfortunate role of outlet.

Whatever she had grabbed was now being slammed against the wall full force as unhinged profanity came pouring out of her mouth. "Fucking no good asshole piece of shit! WORTHLESS MAGGOT SWINE PIG FUUUUUUUCK!" Then she swung at the wall one last time with everything she had and managed to make a sizable dent before falling to her knees breathing heavily.

As she slowly calmed down Avel noticed the lacerations on her hands that were now bleeding purposely. She also discovered that the unfortunate victim of her rage was her assault rifle which was now in a thousand pieces. The pieces of metal and plastic had cut deep into her hands.

"Well that's just super duper. Color me jubilant. Can my day possibly get any better?" Then again, Avel couldn't seem to recall a single day she had ever been happy. She tried to think of other things and keep her mind off that sad fact.

"The smashed rifle." She thought to herself and glanced back at it.

It was a good thing she didn't need that weapon for her current mission or she would have some explaining to do. She still might if anybody noticed the ruckus.

Avel sighed. "Drei, let someone know I'll be heading to the medical ward with minor hand injuries and let's keep the cause of the injuries between the two of us."
 
Phaedra strode over to the locker that Wazu had unlocked and inspected the disassembled rifle. She was impressed with what she saw; it was barely a rifle and more like a portable cannon.

“It should be more than sufficient to break the hardened glass on the exterior of the Casino.” Wazu said, “You should still take one of the standard Sharpshooter Rifle’s too. The smaller rounds would be far less overkill for black syndicate goons."

"Yes sir," said Phaedra.

"Which brings me to what other gear you will be taking. If we use a chopper to drop you off on the administration tower then we will have to use it to pick you up as well, or you will need to parachute off so we can pick you up in the halftrack. I also do not expect you to wear a power armor for this operation, but it is going to be very cold. Malaise does not get above 50 degrees ever.”

"As much as I would not like to use a parachute, having the chopper extract myself from a potentally hot LZ would be inadvisable, sir. As for the environment, my combat armor should be sufficient and I will adapt, sir."

Out of the corner of her eye, Phaedra noticed the medic Laura watching her intently. She had seen that look before; Phaedra received that look frequently after the incident when she was recovering.

"Great...another shrink is just what I need..." thought Phaedra sardonically. She had been constantly drilled for information about the accident and a psychologist was never far away to ensure she was mentally fit for duty. At some point Phaedra decided that enough was enough and just told them what they wanted to hear, particularly how she was to blame for the entire incident.

"My testimony didn't matter anyway; the IPG just covered the whole thing up."

"Bastards..."
 
Avel had left her quarters and headed towards the medical bay, leaving a trail of blood behind her. On the way she ran into a couple marines she didn't recognize but they seemed to know her. After a brief conversation they seemed to realize she didn't know who they were.

"Dear god, you don't remember do you?" One of the said with a shocked expression.

"Remember what?" Avel asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all. You just looked like someone we knew." Another said and the two quickly rushed out of her sight.

Avel glanced at them curiously before heading down the hallway. "Remember what? What happened?" She thought to herself as she then noticed that Phaedra was nearby and what kind of gun was that!?
 
“I will have the drones make sure your night is repaired and re-armed before we reach Malaise.” Wazu replied to Phaedra. “Feel free to go outside and pop off a few rounds. These slums are mostly uninhabited, but have a junker set out targets for you anyways just in case.”

He would then turn to Laura.

“What did you require?”
 
Not too much later, Matteo was at one of the ship's armories, getting ready for the upcoming mission. The...incident with Avel was still very fresh in his mind, and it continued to prod at him even as he ordered equipment from the armory master present. "Yes, I need these two compounds for an upcoming mission directly under Wazu. The first one as a liquid, 200 milliliters. The second one, as a fast dissolving tablet."

The liquid compound would be stored inside a small flask combined with whiskey, completely safe and inert until the tablet was added to it, making the liquid emit fumes he'd be able to knock people out with when splashed onto a cloth. With luck, they'd have it; the two were common materials anyways. Why bother with gloves doped up with two separate chemicals? It was risky and dangerous in comparison to this.

His thoughts drifted back to Harm and Avel who both suggested variations on the thing. Absolutely silly. This was much more safe and efficient. "I'll also need a garotte as well, one that's easily concealed." When the Armory Master came around to asking him which size garotte however, the strangest thing came out of Matteo's mouth. "I think she's around the larger end of a C cup, or maybe a small to midsize D. Hard to say since I'm not exactly the best judge of them. I'm just a guy that like them."

Needless to say, it took a moment for what he said to sink in for both parties.

"STUPID SEXY AVEL!"
 
Laura stood upright and spoke quietly. "Sir, I'm not sure I'd recommend letting Cedric on this mission so soon after his procedure. His body can replenish the blood loss but the physical fatigue is going to catch up with him. Plus, there's not much time for me to make sure its working properly."

Or much time to make sure she got her other responsibilities squared to.
 
“Please hold on a moment while I fabricate the requested liquids. I will have another drone bring the chemicals and the whiskey from the medlab and mess hall respectively.”

The drone then tilted to the side slightly in an attempt to look puzzled, however since it only had one eye it only ended up rotating in place, looking like it was trying to awkwardly climb a staircase. The rapid switch in topic confusing the simple machine.

“I am not equipped for instillation of mammary glands to hide a garrote wire in. If you would like to acquire a sexier body might I suggest heading to the medbay. The surgery system there can outfit you with whatever additional organs you may require for this operation!”

---

“I understand that you completed instillation to specifications. If further complications arise we will deal with them then, however right now I am choosing to deploy Cedric. Even without the eye he should be able to function adequately.

Is there anything else?” Wazu asked Laura.
 
It was his prerogative as Admiral. "No sir," Laura saluted and left. Next up was ... Sergeant Volkov, who was still in the room.

"Sergeant, a moment of your time? Last I heard, you were injured and only treated by the drones," she asked, pulling her medkit of nowhere.
 
"Why don't you leave her alone and treat someone who's actually bleeding?" Avel said as she walked over to the two, leaving a trail of bloody droplets behind her and looking her shredded hands over. She had a few excuses thought up but none of them were particularly believable and the last thing she wanted to say was the truth.

"I have some things to do so hurry up and forget about whatever pain it might cause me."
 
“I will have the drones make sure your night is repaired and re-armed before we reach Malaise.” Wazu replied to Phaedra. “Feel free to go outside and pop off a few rounds. These slums are mostly uninhabited, but have a junker set out targets for you anyways just in case.”

"Thank you, sir," said Phaedra.

"Sergeant, a moment of your time? Last I heard, you were injured and only treated by the drones," asked Laura.

Phaedra didn't respond at first; she wasn't used to being addressed as "Sergeant." She turned toward Laura, her hands still behind her back. She noticed that the medic had a medkit at the ready in her hands.

"Yes, I was only treated by the drones. It seems they did the job well enough, but you are the medical expert. Examine me if you feel there is a need," said Phaedra. Her face displayed her normally stern expression, but her right eye seemed to radiate a cold hostility that was focused entirely on Laura.

That was then Avel walked over to the two of them, both of her hands a bloody mess. As much as Phaedra admitted she was still disturbed by Avel being alive and back in the unit, her concern for Avel's injury overwrote any those thoughts.

"Are you alright?" asked Phaedra. "How did that happen?"
 
Avel glanced at the newly promoted Sergeant. "She's a commanding officer now, treat her like one." She thought to herself and saluted, dripping blood all over her face in the process. "Goddamnit!"

"It is nothing a commanding officer should be bothered about. I'm just looking for medical treatment so I don't get blood all over everything I touch." She said astutely despite how ridiculous she must have looked right now.
 
Laura glanced at Avel's new wounds. Now they didn't even need the enemy to get wounded. "Well, concussion girl, if it's nothing your superior officer should be concerned about, then you can wait for me to finish checking up said superior officer."

Sergeant Volkov seemed alright, physically. "Sergeant, you seem fine. I'd like to do a follow up after the mission just to be sure. If anything hurts or does not feel right before the mission, let me know."

Was Admiral Wazu still in the room? Yes he was, "Admiral! We need another medic! I may be the most brilliant medic in the universe but your Marines are getting wounded faster than I alone can patch them up!"

With an exaggerated sigh, Laura moved to Avel. "Name?" she asked Avel.
 
"Avel Sitkeas Private.... fourth.... Class..... Oh who am I kidding?" Avel replied with a slight edge of despair. Honestly, what was the point of a last name if she had no family or relatives and with the rank she currently had she was better off being a prostitute.

"It's just Avel." She said the next part plainly.
 
"Very well," Wazu said, "I will put in for another medical officer. In the mean time do the best you can and make use of the junkers to lighten your work load."

He was eager to get out of this safe house and head back to the ship. The next mission was sure to go to shit considering the players involved in the black syndicate, and he preferred to just get it over with.
 
"Thank you, sir!" Laura yelled back. Then she returned her attention to Avel. "Avel - easier than saying concussion girl."

Laura lowered her voice so that only she and Avel could hear. "Self-inflicted? I can patch this up easily enough. As a doctor in charge of Marine health, what I want to know is: is this as suspicious as it looks or a simple accident? I'll take your word on it since you seem sincere enough. Whatever it is, your answer stays with me unless you authorize me to share it. Patient confidentiality and all that."

She popped open her medkit and took out a large gauze pad, soaking it in the cleaning alcohol. Laura looked Avel in the eye. She wasn't going to proceed before the patient was ready.
 
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