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RP: NSS Altomir [Mission 1.2] Bal'Sharok Boogie

Bernhard looked around and replied to Alexandra. "I think I've got it covered. It's only the Admiral who seems to be wounded. The civvies just look scared and malnourished. Can't do anything about that right now."

He hopped off the truck with his medical kit and HPAR. "Any other wounded?"
 
The elevator descended steadily, with a firm vibration or two here and there that caused a bit of cement dust to crumble. The shuddering lift came down, still twenty meters from the stop, to reveal a spanning facility large enough to accommodate a platoon of marines. Corner facilities were by certain colored tape, depending on what they were. A well-maintained Medical facility sat in one corner, bordered by red and white tape. A small maintenance with proper equipment sat marked off by yellow and white tape, one hostile sat open, and perhaps recently used. Finally, the armory, with thick weapon and ammo lockers open and shut in a line, this one being marked by yellow and black tape.

All of this was placed beside two vertical ascent landing pads that were both set on ground level, and both occupied each by K7 Transport Helicopters. The heavy birds sat quietly, and appeared largely unharmed and untouched by the long era of fighting.

The other things untouched were the dusty, black banners that hung on the walls, showing the iconic eye of the old IPG. These dark banners flowed over insidious obsidian walls, which seemed to capture the feeling of the old organization.

The only thing not open aired in the facility was the barracks to the side, where Jackson Stevens came plodding out with an ESG raised. Though, his fears could be quickly quelled when he saw the recognizable Admiral Vanderhuge, and his complement of Marines. Even better, his friend, Jott, was standing on the very edge of the lift to greet him with a small wave.

Saveli, who had been silenced, but not calmed by Autumn's words, carefully went to the edge of the lift. He was amazed by the width and girth of the room before him. Still, he carefully analyzed his surroundings, not trusting any place so deep below the ground. Certainly it was quiet now, but the deepest denizens waited for complacency, as Saveli would hear.
 
Autumn let out a low whistle at the sight of the compound. "I'd never thought I'd be so happy to be underground in a dusty facility. I really hope there is food somewhere in this compound still..."

The Geshrin Demolitions' specialist's stomach grumbled at the mention of food, it had been far too long and the MRE crackers that she had been painstakingly rationing were worst than eating sawdust. She was grateful to have had the crackers at all but she was hoping for something just slightly better... she'd even settle for a ration pill flavored like something other than dry crackers.
 
"Admiral, please don't walk on that leg. They seem to have medical facilities here where we can better treat your injury. Shall I carry you over there, ma'am?" Bernhard asked Violetta.
 
"It's an IPG Bunker. Knowing them they're prepared for doomsday three times over." Yuriko said in response to Autumn. Although she couldn't help but share the woman's sentiments on food. While her rations had been a damn sight better than an empty stomach, they hadn't done much to stave off hunger pangs.
 
"Hey calm down marine," Alexandra said to the man aiming with ESG in his hand. Which was almost comical, man with tiny submachine pistol aiming at the group of marines in hulking HOSTILE suits. Alexandra looked around the place they got to with a curiosity. Bunker seemed in good shape. Whatever combat was on Rok'Veru never reached here.

"I hope we will find some ammo here," she then said and went to check on the civvies. "I suggest we also rest and recharge our suits here. And I want to take a look on all the injured with Bernhard. I think admiral will be glad to get rid of those pink bandages as well."
 
John took this moment of peace to step out of the truck and stretch his legs. The adrenaline was still kicking through his veins, which kept him wound up. He knew that they had narrowly avoided death, and he felt a bit of pride well up in his chest to go along with the nervous energy inside him.

"I am unhurt," he said over his loudspeakers. "How fare the civilians?"
 
karmakaze said:
"Attention. This is Jackson Stevens. P3C of the Star Military of Nepleslia. Please identify yourselves, I am armed, and not hesitant to fire."

Jott Sarkis Yu, upon hearing the crackling voice over the speaking set into the elevator platform, quickly fumbled his way out of the truck and towards a similar box. Pressing the button at the side with one hand, the Delsaurian leaned in closer, his cybernetic eyes vaguely illuminating the box he was speaking into. "Jackson, it's Jott. Don't worry, these are Nepleslian soldiers and a few civilians. Nothing to worry about."


---

When the elevator neared the bottom floor of its descent, Flint Vanderhuge's attention was averted towards the two K7 Transport Helicopters taking centerfold in the large open bunker. The ID-SOLs old, hardened eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face as he turned towards the two vehicles. With one simple leap, the giant ID-SOL bounded out of the truck, his heavy feet shaking the platform ever so slightly as he pushed past Jott Sarkis Yu in a rather forceful manner, the Delsaurian toppling over with a short cry of surprise.

Flint didn't halt until he reached the K7's, reaching one of his massive hands out and running it along the hull of the rotorwing's chassis. "Haha! Yes. Perfect. These two'll do just fine," Flint said beneath his breath, speaking to himself as he inspected the helicopters with a seasoned, analytical eye. The hulls looks pristine enough; they most likely had not seen combat since Rok'Veru fell under NMX attack. "Damn squids'll never know what hit 'em. Hey! Lizard!"

Flint's sudden call out for Jott immediately put the Delsaurian at attention, his approach covered in soft metallic clacks as his cybernetic legs pattered against the cold floor. "Yes, Grand Admiral, sir?" Jott returned Flint's query in a shaky, nervous tone, apparently not at all minding the less than subtle hints of racial profiling.

"What's the story on these K7's? You said you're the armory expert here, right?"

---

Sigma said:
"Admiral, please don't walk on that leg. They seem to have medical facilities here where we can better treat your injury. Shall I carry you over there, ma'am?" Bernhard asked Violetta.

Bernhard's question came just as Violetta was, vainly, attempting to uproot herself without help. The female officer looked as though she were about to brush off the marine's request, but after a short stumble and another wince of intense pain streaking across her face, Violetta assuaged to Bernhard's assistance, allowing herself to be helped out of the back of the vehicle. "If you... must-!," the woman said, her words cut short as she sucked in a sharp breath of air. The painkillers were running their course through her system, but the wound was still gruesome enough to warrant concern, despite Bernhards excellent patch-up.

One of the Nepleslian hoodlums, specifically the one who had bravely attempted to beat the crab-type NMX off of Violetta before the marines intervened, also attempted to help the Admiral, his two mates following close behind.

---

Tom said:
John took this moment of peace to step out of the truck and stretch his legs. The adrenaline was still kicking through his veins, which kept him wound up. He knew that they had narrowly avoided death, and he felt a bit of pride well up in his chest to go along with the nervous energy inside him.

"I am unhurt," he said over his loudspeakers. "How fare the civilians?"

For the most part, the civilians looked pretty well off. None of them were seriously hurt, which was a miracle unto itself. The three youths were trailing behind Bernhard and Violetta, while Jott Sarkis Yu was busy explaining, in his nervous tone, the specifics of the K7 Transports.

The mother and her infant child remained in the truck. Kneeling down and rocking her girl gently, the Geshrin woman seemed quite content for the moment. When she heard John Davis speak over his armorsuit's external audio, she looked up and instantly recognized him as the original driver of the previous vehicle that had saved her and the rest from NMX capture. "We are fine, sir," the woman said in a gentle, slightly hushed tone of voice, indicating that perhaps her child was sleeping in the safety provided by the IPG bunker. "Thank you very much."
 
Pausing at the near unanimous reply to him to calm down, Jackson lowered his ESG, placing it back on the table. "Sorry. Ah-heh. Still a bit green an' all." He was more than a bit embarrassed, color flushing briefly to his cheeks. He waved back at Jott, trying to put on a casual air. "Man, I feel like an ass."
He shook his head, eyes darting to the HOSTILE suited marines, then to the relatively ragtag bunch of civilians. "Make yourselves at home. There's a burner and some dusty ration kits in the kitchen to the left of you guys."
Jackson, more than a bit eager to leave after waving a gun at some fellow marines and civilians, walked back to the bunk beds, unloading the gun, clicking the safety back on, and firmly applying his palm to his face.
"Lovely first day i'm havin'."
 
The Cohronl stepped off the lift before walking onto the main floor. With a short turn of the shoulder, he looked back at the other Marines on the truck, before pulling his attention to the armory that seemed to be cordoned off.

"Perhaps we should see what's available over there?" Saveli pointed off to the lockers that were opened, closed, and dented.
 
"Scan them first before opening." Cautioned Yuriko once her suit hopped off the truck bed. "Medkits, Food, Fuel and Ammo should be our priorities for the moment. And don't get reckless in opening boxes and locks with abandon. The earlier IPG were a paranoid lot, so caution here is warranted."
 
Bernhard's trek over to the available medical facility within the bunker, with Violetta De Luca in tow, ended almost as quickly as it had began. Resting against a rough-hewn cavern wall was an old NA-01 Drop Triage pod, fully unfurled and acting as a permanent on-site hospital for the bunker. The Nepleslian youth assisting Violetta opposite of Bernhard gazed up at the doors to the building, his two comrades in tow as Violetta's eyes winced once more, her sharp intake of air warranting need for concern.

As the doors slid open, however, Violetta's condition was not the only thing of worry. The Drop Triage facility itself was quite clean, as though it had been regularly maintained quite recently. The equipment was where it was supposed to be, and although it appeared most of the supplies were gone, for one reason or another, there was still plenty on hand. The area of distress was no the room itself, but rather the contents.

Off against the far wall of the building, one of the medical beds had been removed, leaving a large open area. Laying on the floor, side by side with emphasis on saving space, were roughly 15 sealed body bags, the obvious lumps and shapeless forms beneath the material revealing that each of them was indeed occupied by some manner of corpse.

The three Nepleslian ruffians-turned-survivors eyed the sizable pile of bodies, the two following their third stopping for a moment in apprehension. The youth at the left of Violetta was obviously affected by the sight, but remained in control enough to help Bernhard keep the female officer stable enough until they had reached to closest hospital bed. Violetta's reaction was much more subtle and difficult to read past her expressions of pain; if she had an opinion on the grim reminders of Nepleslian frailty, she kept it well hidden. Violetta heaved another shaky grunt of pain, her hands instinctively reaching for her wound but her good reason stopping her short.
 
Alexandra followed Bernie to the Triage Pod. He seemed to have the things well in his hands, but she still had to check his back later. Alexandra was no doctor, but she knew a lot. And she wanted to become a doctor one day. Combat Doctor. She chuckled at that though in her head.

She frowned at the sight of the body bags though. Fifteen of them and all were full. She wondered who was occupying it and if they had Brain-spiders. If yes, they surely had to be recovered.

Alex opened her Hostile and got out, walking to the closes body-bag. There she sat down on her heels looking at it. Her eyes darted over to a documentation pocket. First she wanted to know who was its occupant and how he died.
 
Autumn nodded to Yuriko and moved over to the closed lockers, running scans for explosive triggers before even touching the containers. "Here's hoping that they didn't rig these."

Her stomach growled in impatient anticipation for what the lockers might contain. "I'm just running some comprehensive scans for triggers..." She knelt down in front of the lockers and visibly looked for any wires or plates that might set off a bomb.
 
"Pay attention," Bernhard said sternly to the boys. If they were going to help, he wanted their entire attention focused on the task. It was a lesson from his own youth. Distractions led to carelessness. Carelessness led to mistakes.

The younger medic wasn't a licensed doctor but having grown up in a family of one, he was just as experienced as most doctors. The wound was certainly gruesome to look at but after a lifetime of working in a surgery, treating everything from broken bones to maimed victims, one developed a certain... disconnection from the human element. It became academic, a problem to solve. Bernhard reasoned that this mentality was probably why most people thought he didn't have much personality.

Admiral De Luca's leg had been stabilized. Now, he had to return it to good as new if he could. That meant more liquid bandage. Once the Admiral was on a bed, Bernhard started searching the cabinets for larger bottles of the stuff. He found plenty of the liquid in stock. It would be the best solution for regenerating new flesh. Unfortunately, Bernhard wasn't sure how much was the right amount since the stuff would obviously break down. Too little and the Admiral would have a disfigurement in her leg, not debilitating but certainly not aesthetically pleasing. Too much and she'd have a bump on her leg.

"Mayhew, I need your help applying the LB."
 
Alexandra stopped caring abotu the body bags and walked to Bernhard. There she opened her suit and walked out. It was better to do medicine with her own hands. She quickly walked to De Luca and looked at the leg. It had emergency dressing on it.

"I would not apply LB right away Bernie," Alex said as she looked at the leg. The medic walked and turned on the Diagnosis Viewscreen that was on the wall. "Let's have a proper look at the left first." With that she started scannin the wound and watched the viewscreen.
 
Autumn's scan turned up little in the way of explosive residue or material upon the lockers themselves. The doors represented no wires on their edges, and nothing short of a magnetic trigger could possibly present a risk at this point. The most threatening thing on the lockers themselves were probably the sharp corners. Every container was made from a sturdy, but thin sheet metal that would present a risk to nano-muscles if handled improperly.

When she finally managed to pop the door open, Autumn found that the locker's contents were much more fortuitous than what was found in the Drop Triage's bay. Inside was a small plethora of items. On the hanger was a set of engineering coveralls. Sitting on the bottom of the locker was a pair of boots, made for hard maintenance work.

The second shelf presented probably the best thing of all. In pristine, unadulterated, unabashed, and completely sweet glory was an item that no single right-minded Nepleslian could do without. This item was a path to a night and day of messy, satisfying pleasure that caused animalistic, and violent cravings in even the strongest of individuals. This small, yet richly endowed item was something that Nepleslian men, and women, killed one another for.

It was a Funky Maximum Roll.

There was also an HPAR, with three magazines settled in the space below it.
 
Thomas watched the rest of the marines go own their own business, leaving him to mill about near the truck. After a while he got bored from that. The engineer in him wanted to check out what sorts of things were in the bunker, and didn't some of the marines have damaged armor? He'd check on that.

"What are your orders, admiral?" He asked over the comms. If there were none he'd make himself some.
 
Autumn stared at the roll in disbelief and glee, her stomach growled as she carefully, reverently took the roll and stuffed it into a compartment of her power armor. She was starving but she had to finish the search.

She slung the HPAR over her shoulder and stuffed the magazines into her ammunition pouch. "Let's see if there are any more gems in these other lockers." The demolitions specialist popped open the next unopened locker, hoping to find more possible food stuffs and ammunition.
 
Autumn's search would yield yet another HPAR with similar ammunition. These particular HPARs, that she would find in other lockers as well, possesed a mottled, green camo that seem to reflect the vegetation of Bal'Sharok. The color itself ran in contrast to the standard, shipbourne grays that marked the regular Marine's armor. There was little else too different about it, save fore a small string of bestial teeth wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

There was a few more magazines for the standard HPAR rifle, and beyond that, a few NMRs.
 
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