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RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Mission 2] Recovery

As soon as Phaedra left medbay, she regretted her actions.

"An NCO should not let emotions impair judgement," thought Phaedra.

"Now I've driven the wedge further between Harm and myself. Still, she deserved to know of her innapproriate conduct. I wanted to let my comrades know that I would defend them."

Tact had never been one of Phaedra's strong suits, and she was feeling the results of that very harshly.

But the Marines were still on duty and had not been relieved of their duties yet, despite the Admiral being wounded. Phaedra decided that while her actions were perhaps not executed in the best way, they enforced order on the team, which was her intent. Without the Admiral to guide them, she was in charge, and that responsibility weighed heavily on Phaedra's shoulders. She wouldn't let the team degenerate into petty squabbling on her watch. They were due for a shore leave, and at such a time the Marines could relax, but until then, they would act like Marines. She would make sure of it.

Phaedra headed towards the Armory to inspect the condition of her NIGHT armor.
 
"No. Just let her cool down a bit before you two kiss and make up." He paused. "Huh. Wouldn't mind seeing that too much, now that I think of it." He spoke, sounding very genuinely thoughtful on the matter.

Uso said:
“I’d come up with something better but I’m still mad at you for calling me fat.
Click to expand...
Matteo couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at that comment. "Fat? Since when did I..." he paused for a second, thinking hard. The LED came on. "Oh! That's right!" he exclaimed, bringing a fist down into his palm, giving the Neko a glance before sheepishly turning away to regard his heating meal. "Yeaaaaah...I take that back." he went on, a hand on the back of his head. "In hindsight, you totally felt like you were somewhere between a buck thirty and a buck forty pounds. It wasn't like I was carrying you through a combat area just after doing some fighting myself or anything." he went on, any 'shame' now replaced with a hint of sarcasm towards the end.

Matteo opened up his meal and pulled out a BBQ Pork Sandwitch and Seasoned Curly Fries, tossing the accessory packet's cigarettes into the trash bin along with the energy drink. He then took a proper sized bite of food, chewed properly, and swallowed before speaking again.

"But I still stand by my junk food comments. Your fuel smokes like some shitty low octane piss or something. "
 
Alan Douglas had been stuck in a shuttle for an hour by himself with nothing but his own personal effects that had been loaded for him after he had completed his power armor training. He had been assigned to the 4th fleet, but so far the entire process had been fairly sterile, having been guided to a shuttle by Junker drones which were also packing and loading his personal equipment for him. Perhaps unsurprisingly one of the rounded balls of metal was waiting for him when he finally arrived at his destination, identified only as the NSS Asp over the shuttle’s PA system.

“Welcome aboard Private Douglass!” The Junker shouted enthusiastically, “You will need to come with me to the medbay for a physical. Please follow me.”

It would then start moving down the ship’s hallways, taking him towards a lift that would lead up to the medical bay all the while keeping its red eye focused on him,

“When you have finished you will need to head to the quartermaster and requisition a power armor as well as any other gear you might want to have on hand. There are not currently preparing for an operation so I can only recommend that you select an armor based on personal preference. The Hostile is what most of the marines pilot. You will then be assigned a room and your personal effects will be deposited there.

For the most part the ship he was now on was pristine, clean, and almost entirely unlived in. He wouldn’t even see another living creature until he reached the medbay. A thick trail of blood led into the room from the lift. A man was laid out on one of the medical beds with numerous drugs and packets of artificial blood being pumped into his body to keep him alive. Another marine was laid out on another bed with similarly severe injuries and a woman in a dress was sitting nearby eating a ration pack, plastic wrapping and all, as her arm continued to bleed from where a hand was missing. The few others in the room seemed far less injured.

“Well it is rocket fuel, you aren’t supposed to be breathing it in…” Harm said, “And you’re not seriously going to have a discussion with me about weight.” She would then turn to take a look at the Junker and the Marine that it had ‘in tow’

“Well, I’m not properly dressed to deal with an FNG right now… You got a name?”



---

@ Phaedra

Phaedra would find her power armor untouched since she used it last. The ship only had a handful of marines onboard and the junkers didn’t bother things unless it needed repairs or maintenance. Though she wouldn’t get much time to herself as a few levels above Wazu was just starting to come to, and was already using his datapad to plan out orders, sending her a quick private message.
 
Alan noted the sudden chaos that replaced the previously serene environment. Alan raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms looking at the med bay filled with wounded soldiers. "Private Alan Wagner, I'm supposed to be given a physical by the medical officer." He quickly glanced over Harm seeing no obvious signs of neither military ,or medical insignia. "I don't suppose you'd know where they are?" He takes another look over the medical room taking in the sights of all the wounded. "Man looks like you guys could use a hand up he-" He cut himself off glancing at the marine with the missing hand. "erm sorry."

He continued observing the chaos wondering just what on Earth the Asp had gotten into. To his knowledge the Asp hadn't been in any serious engagements yet, but perhaps those rosters were old. More importantly he hoped the skills he'd learned during his training would keep him out of the medbay as much as possible. It'd take a lot of cybernetics to replace one of his arms after all something he wasn't planning on getting used to.
 
Phaedra briefly inspected her armor, then headed over to the drone in charge of the armory. She brought up the datapad and ordered a maintenance diagnostic, as well as a particular modification to the armor's helmet. She submitted an image from her datapad and specified that it be painted on the armor's helmet. After she entered the requests, the Admiral sent her a message to join him in the medbay.

"Good, the Admiral is awake," thought Phaedra. She quickly replied to the message.

Good to see you are awake. On my way, sir.
Click to expand...
Phaedra made her way back to the medbay and entered with her hands clasped behind her back. Standing near the doorway was huge man, most likely an ID-SOL, with all the strappings of a new recruit. Phaedra smirked to herself when she remembered her first day in her first unit. She caught the looks the squad gave her when she re-entered, and her smirk quickly faded; she was extremely conscious of the impact her outburst had on the squad.

"And your name is, Private?" said Phaedra, pausing briefly to glance at the large man's rank.
 
Behind him he heard a voice, and from the sound of it, it was someone who could read military insignia. He turned neatly to face the one addressing him his eyes scanning her uniform recognizing her as a Sargent. "Private Alan Wagner sir." He stood at the customary attention, she didn't have the look of a medic about her, he was wondering who exactly on this ship was in charge of running the infirmary. His gray eyes locked themselves on the Sargent directly before him, perhaps she had more information than the civilian did.
 
As the doctor came in, Cedric had wrapped the towel around his waist. At the moment he was going at a boneless, breaded spicy chicken breast, with a THRUST protein and body-building soda, a pack of cigarettes, a .45 handgun, and a small jerry-can of jet fuel laying beside him on the table after he had ripped open the meal to satiate himself. Now that the doctor approached, he happily finished up the chicken breast to do as he was told.

"Whatever you say, doctor." He smiled, closing his organic eye as instructed, "You know how to fix this better than me: the Corps just wants me to blow things up for 'em. Humble job for a humble man, I say."

After that, he was silent, and didn't make any sort of complaints.
 
Wazu slowly sat up, sitting on the side of the medical bed. His body had only recently been put back together and he was already back to work. The first order of business, getting one of the junker drones to fetch him a new uniform. The second…

“Phaedra,” Wazu said, “We need to debrief after the last operation.” He would have to pause for a moment, letting a sickly feeling in his stomach pass before continuing. For the time being he just kept his eyes closed and let the IV drips do their work.

“We are likely going to show up on NNN, and we are going to look like the bad guys.

I am going to need to have a talk with the wheelwrights and see if I can keep them from airing the story if it isn’t too late but in the mean time we are going to need to keep a low profile and we can use this time to take care of some internal issues.”

He would then look over at harm,

“From the sounds of things the squad is starting to come apart. We will need to make them be a bit more soldierly,” He said, a slight distain in his voice, “You have some shore leave time coming up, take the other marines with you and start forming them into a real unit. For the time being Harm will operate as your second in command so do not let her push you around.”

“Oooh, that’s harsh,” Harm said, the blood oozing out of her arm slowly starting to form itself into a hand, “Besides, don’t you need me to talk to ‘the wheelwrights’. He’s supposed to be one hell of a perv.”


Wazu responded fairly quickly:
“… All kinds of no.”
 
When Wazu addressed her, Phaedra walked over to his side at the bed.

“We need to debrief after the last operation."

"Awaiting your call, sir."

“You have some shore leave time coming up, take the other marines with you and start forming them into a real unit. For the time being Harm will operate as your second in command so do not let her push you around.”

"Yes sir," she replied. She glanced at Harm, now feeling entirely vindicated for her outburst at the Neko.

“Oooh, that’s harsh,” Harm said. “Besides, don’t you need me to talk to ‘the wheelwrights’. He’s supposed to be one hell of a perv.”

“… All kinds of no,” responded Wazu quickly. Phaedra rolled her remaining eye slightly at Harm's comment.

"Alright Marines, listen up. If you've been cleared by the Docs to leave, I want you to gather up your gear and get situated in the barracks on Deck 5. Be ready to depart within the hour and take the lift down to the shuttle bay. Dismissed." She glanced back to the Neko.

"Harm, you will have your own room adjacent to the barracks."

"Keeping her isolated from the rest of the crew would be best..." thought Phaedra.
 
Alan suppressed a sigh as all the patched up men in the medbay rushed past him. He kept his spot having yet to be cleared despite being the only uninjured soldier in the bay at all it seemed. His eyes swept over the remaining superiors all standing about discussing plans and missions while he waited. Usually he caught the attention of everyone in the room so being so easily ignored by so many people in a row was slightly odd to him. He glanced back and forth between the superiors.
 
Wazu looked over at the new guy for a moment before returning his attention to Phaedra. “I will make this debrief quick. Cedric has a promotion coming his way, whatever is one rank above what he is now.

One of the black goons shot their own leader first before turning his gun on us. Since Fhion showed up I think it is clear she was behind this setup. It is very likely the black syndicate will retaliate against us so be careful when visiting the fringe worlds. Similarly, it is also very likely that Fhion is running an operation on Malaise. I do not see how she could have reacted so quickly otherwise.

Drei notified me you self-destructed your scout cannon. I will have another one made for you and I will be making a few tweaks to the muzzle break and casing. If you have any feedback on the weapon be sure to send it to me.

Be sure to collect any feedback from the other marines or yourself from the last operation and send that information to me or Drei. In the mean time I think I will be differing to your judgment when planning operations. I had no excuse for going in their so casually.

That being said, we need to work out what you are going to do for shore leave…

There is an Aethersperm concert taking place on Nepleslia Prime and the pre-event festival is already underway. The survival course out by the NAM proving grounds is also going unused right now if you want to head out there. I could also pull a few strings and see about getting the team on a gameshow. The shuttles will take you guys down to whatever group thing you feel would work best. I will have Drei send specifics to your datapad.”

A junker drone would end up scurrying over to Wazu, handing him a fresh green tank top to pull on after he disconnected himself from the IVs. He then turned his attention back to the new guy.

“Alan Wagner right? How was basic? We just re-worked a lot of the standardized training for the marines and I have yet to see any stats on its effectiveness and…”

Wazu would look down at his datapad for a moment,

“…We need to kit you out with CQC gear but I have yet to build that. I suppose we should talk about that after you get settled in though. If they have yet to tell you, the 4th is where a large portion of combat gear is developed for the marines. I am hoping you will end up as the group’s close quarters combat expert and help us develop the training and equipment that will be made available to other units. A power armor riot shield is on the way but the initial planning is the only thing I have gotten done so far.

Which reminds me…”

Wazu would turn back to Phaedra for a moment, “We have a demolitions expert from Paragon coming in soonish. He will be taking over for Cedric while Cedric is away helping build the sapper school. I will be expecting an evaluation of the Paragon operator, since we are also looking to hire the Paragon PMC on a larger scale.”
 
Alan salutes the Admiral as he listens to the information about the new gear. "Basic went quite well sir, as did the specialist training. I specialize in CQC with or without power armor so I'd be interested in helping to test any equipment you come up with sir. I do have all the basic equipment I need to function at least, I just need a Power Armor, preferably a HOSTILE." He mulled over the thought of testing new equipment for the marines before he realized his current assignment.

"Sir if I may I've been instructed to get a physical and there doesn't seem to be any medical personnel nor anyone who has any idea where any medical personnel is at all." He looks about the medbay again still not seeing anyone he recognized as a medical officer. "Would you happen to know who I'm supposed to talk to?"
 
When Avel came to the first thing she felt was pain, not just from her head but her entire body. It hurt just to move but she forced herself into a sitting position anyways and looked around.

Things seemed to be the same save for the fact that it was now much quieter. She also noticed that Wazu and Phaedra were talking nearby about how badly the mission had gone. She would comment on that in a moment but first she needed a mirror.

Looking around her bed she eventually spotted a metal tray, picked it up and inspected herself in the reflective surface. Much to her relief she looked the same as she did save for the slight redness where it had been reconstructed.

Then something caught her attention and she turned her full attention to the other two.

"Wait, what was that about new equipment?" She asked and climbed out of her bed while trying to stay balanced. "I have a few ideas if you want to hear them."
 
“I will make this debrief quick. Cedric has a promotion coming his way, whatever is one rank above what he is now."

"I believe it is Staff Sergeant, sir."

"Since Fhion showed up I think it is clear she was behind this setup."

"I agree, sir. It was far to coincidental for her to have appeared at that location."

"Drei notified me you self-destructed your scout cannon. I will have another one made for you and I will be making a few tweaks to the muzzle break and casing. If you have any feedback on the weapon be sure to send it to me."

"Unfortunate, but better than allowing the technology to fall into enemy hands. I will be sure to send a report with my feedback, sir."

"Be sure to collect any feedback from the other marines or yourself from the last operation and send that information to me or Drei. In the mean time I think I will be differing to your judgment when planning operations. I had no excuse for going in their so casually."

"Yes, sir"

"That being said, we need to work out what you are going to do for shore leave…"

The potential events for shore leave included an Athersperm concert, and even a gameshow. But none of these options appealed to Phaedra as much as the NAM proving grounds. There was a good opportunity for the team to work together towards a common goal, rather than having everyone do their own thing.

"I will review the data and then make my decision, sir."

Wazu then focused his attention on the new recruit, Private Alan Wagner. After asking him several questions, he turned his attention back to Phaedra.

“We have a demolitions expert from Paragon coming in soonish. He will be taking over for Cedric while Cedric is away helping build the sapper school. I will be expecting an evaluation of the Paragon operator, since we are also looking to hire the Paragon PMC on a larger scale.”

"I will submit an evaluation in due time, sir."

"As long as the contractor from Paragon isn't anything like Harm..." thought Phaedra.

"Sir if I may I've been instructed to get a physical and there doesn't seem to be any medical personnel nor anyone who has any idea where any medical personnel is at all. Would you happen to know who I'm supposed to talk to?" asked Alan.

"I will notify the medic of your arrival," said Phaedra, pulling out her datapad and sending a message to Laura.

Private Romero,
A new addition, Private Alan Wagner, has arrived for his physical examination and is currently awaiting your presence.
Click to expand...
She then turned back to Wazu, only for Avel to slowly rise up from the table. Phaedra took a step towards her.

"Wait, what was that about new equipment? I have a few ideas if you want to hear them."

"I am glad you are awake, Avel. We will be departing for shore leave within the hour. Get situated in the barracks on Deck 5 and then meet in the shuttle bay." Phaedra stepped back and turned towards Wazu.

"If that will be all Admiral, I will take my leave to prepare," she said, straightening to attention and saluting.
 
Harm raised her bloody stump of a hand as Wazu started talking.

“It looks like we are short on medics. Between getting shot up and bringing Cedric back things are stretched thin.”

Harm then held up her hand a little higher

“As for equipment, we still have a bunch of unassigned Hostiles in the power armor bay, Drei will assign you one when you get down there. And if either of you have got ideas for gear I would like to hear them even if it is just for changes to current equipment.”

Harm then shook her hand a little.

“What?!” Wazu snapped.

“Permission to speak?” Harm asked

“Sure…” Wazu replied.

“Could use a hand,” Harm said, chuckling, “Funny stuff.”

Wazu then turned back to Phaedra.

“I did not mean to sound like I was criticizing you about the rifle. Your idea for a termite self-destruction round turned out to be solid.

But yes, for now that is all.”

---

Meanwhile, yet another person was being brought onboard via shuttle. The private contractor was met by another one of the ship’s ever present junker drones.

“Welcome to the NSS Asp!” The drone practically shouted at the new arrival. “You will be required to have a physical before your orders are distributed. I am to inform you that you will be answering to Phaedra Volkov while you are here. You will need to report to her after you physical is complete.” The junker would then turn towards the lifts, leading Arieg through the sterile interior of the ship until they reached the medical bay and its blood splattered floor.
 
"Look, all I'm saying is that you ought to keep quiet about what you think. Wrong person hears it, we're all going to suffer." Bernhard was talking to Laura, who was angrily grabbing more bottles of cleaning alcohol than she really needed. Both of them were in the medical store room, double checking the inventory.

"Why do you care? I get in trouble, it's on me. Nothing to do with you," she replied sharply. The new guy was getting her nerves now, talking like he knew anything.

Bernhard took a deep breath, focusing on how to make sure she understood it. "Like it or not, the two of us are going to have to work as a team. I don't know if them getting so banged up is common," Laura laughed when he said that, to his confusion, "but we need to work together on it. If you're in the brig, it means more work for me."

Then Laura's datajockey beeped. She dumped the bottles of cleaning alcohol on a nearby table to read the message.

"Oh, more new people who need a physical. By the way, who gave you your physical when you arrived?" Laura said, looking at Bernhard.

The man was even more confused. The young woman was acting like a child, her brain zipping from topic to topic at random. "Um... I did?" he replied slowly.

"Can't accept it. You could fudge the report. Gotta give you your physical later. Or... you could check out this guy for me while I take a nap and I'll sign off on your report once you're done," Laura said mischievously. Bernhard shook his head. He was being blackmailed by a clone. "Fine. Just think about what I said," he relented.

Bernhard left his own inventory items on the same table and detailed a drone to take over for both of them. Laura, meanwhile, bounded out behind Bernhard and trailed him secretly.

-------------------

In the Medbay.

It was easy enough to spot the newbie. He was just as confused as Bernhard had been a few hours ago. He walked up to the Marine (Alan) and introduced himself.

"Bernhard Greer, medic newly assigned here. Been told you need a physical. What's your name?"

Laura spied on what Bernhard was doing. How could he know more than the most brilliant medic in the universe?
 
Standing in the threshold, Arieg glanced around the room and couldn't stop himself from letting out a loud whistle, "Ho-ley-shit what did you boys and girls get yourselves into?" he said while entering. The contractor was wearing digital urban camouflage BDUs, a patch on both his shoulders identified him as a Paragon contractor. He moved to the nearest unoccupied and unbloodied examination table and sat down, unslinging his sea bag and setting his IBR down next to it. He glanced over at medic who'd just greeted a marine who'd just walked in as well, "I take it physicals are mandatory?" he said slightly annoyed.
 
Cedric sighed with frustration, fiddling with the .45 handgun from his meal as he sat on the table in the very same room he had been in up until that point. He had asked the junker drone from before to retrieve his uniform for him; a simple task.

"So why is it taking so long!" Cedric thought angrly.

It seemed that was the junker drone's que, because at that moment it came in to a room, tightly holding a Nepleslian Marine uniform with belt and an HHG revolver. As it set the uniform down, Cedric fiddled with the hammer of the .45 for a moment, debating on whether or not to use it on the accursed little machine. However, he decided that taking his anger out on the innocent (if slow) little assistant wouldn't be very justifiable. Instead he just looked over the uniform to make sure the drone hadn't forgotten anything, and once he was sure he happily tossed the towel aside to begin putting his uniform off.

He left the .45 from the meal on the table, with the orders, "Do . . . somethin' with it. Give it to the quartermaster, or vent it out the air-lock."

Emerging from the room he saw the scene at hand. Avel was sitting on a table, talking to Wazu (also on a table), with Phaedra standing, and Bernhard had just re-entered the medical bay. Not to mention the two new arrivals: one was obviously a green Marine at first glance, and the second was a man who was obviously not a Marine, and who had just finished grousing about how he suspected everybody had to have a physical. He looked PMC, like Harm (who, speaking of, was sitting nearby in a horribly stained dress). Cedric decided it would probably be good Marine ettiquete to address the highest ranking person in the room first for information.

"That's if we Marines have any ettiquete" Cedric thought with a smile.

He then turned to face Wazu, "Sir, Private First Class Sommerville alive and . . ." He would have said "ready" but took quick notice of the copious amounts of blood that virtually covered the floor and tables, ". . . somewhat disoriented, sir. I was wondering if anybody could tell me what the hell happened, how, and why I don't remember a thing after the Squid took out my eye."
 
"Ho-ley-shit what did you boys and girls get yourselves into?"

Phaedra turned and strode over to the man who had just entered. Although his uniform was military style, he obviously wasn't a Marine. She assumed that he was the PMC demolitions expert they were expecting. After having to deal with Harm, Phaedra wanted the contractor to know exactly where he stood in the chain of command.

"I take it physicals are mandatory?" he said slightly annoyed. Phaedra glared down at him with her hands on her hips.

"A physical examination is necessary so that our medical officers can treat you properly in the event that you are seriously injured." Phaedra's stern expression returned to her face.

"I am Sergeant Phaedra Volkov, and you will answer to me for the duration of your deployment in the 4th Fleet," Phaedra began to pace infront of the man as she spoke.

"While you are not a Marine, you will be working in a military unit. You will cooperate with your comrades in arms, and you will follow the orders you are given." Phaedra stopped pacing and stared down at him.

"Understand?"

"What is your name, soldier?"

Phaedra saw Cedric enter the room in her peripheral vision, and she was glad to see him up and about.
 
Alan looked over the new arrival as he walked through the room. Sargent Wolf seemed obviously perturbed by the explosives expert's behavior. It must take some kind of obnoxious to piss off someone who makes a living out of being patient. He sighed and finally took a seat waiting for the medic to finally get here. He was glad to finally get his information and closed his eyes still tired from the flight to the spaceport. He went over his mental checklist while he rested, after the physical he needed to find his quarters. Hopefully that little junker could escort him to his room.

He hadn't heard much of 4th Fleet or the Asp. Admiral Wazu's introduction was perhaps the most information he'd received yet. Hopefully all this new equipment was lab tested to hell and back before he'd be using it in the field. He'd be glad to put his HPAR to work before any completely untested gear. At least that riot shield seemed fairly straightforward. He wondered why such a thing had never been attempted before, just how durable and maneuverable it was, what the most practical field applications would be. FISH combat would be a bit tight but would allow for optimal use of it's coverage. Open space allowed for more movement and gave it a great use in making up for lack of cover. His mind continued to drift over possible uses for the technology.
 
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