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

"It will be handled by one of the other drones. Drei co-ordinates all actions on the ship so informing one of us is as good as informing us all." The quartermaster drone said, "We really only wear these hats for your sake." Its tendril pointing to the paper hat on its head that read 'quartermaster'.

Harm considered grabbing boots, but decided her NH-7 body would be better off being able to feel the ground below her. "Is there anything else we should bring non-hiking related?" She asked Phaedra, "... This is shore leave after all and the old man loves to keep the bar well stocked."
 
"I'd say better to bring some armaments along just in case, shore leave can get pretty crazy if you aren't careful" Sawyer said; "I mean it could be that we never need it but better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it." Laughingly, "kinda like a prophylactic of some sort for if you are heading down town towards the red light districts or even to a normal house of disrepute." Looking at Harm; "well may as well head to the shuttle bay and get set into a good seat before the rest of these laggards decide to get there before us."
 
"... aww crap we're not THAT group already are we?

You know, the one where something always goes wrong? There are already enough Phalanx Phillip references for my taste." Harm said.
 
"Well better to make sure that we aren't that group and if something does go wrong better to have the firepower to deal with it. As it has been said there is no problem that cannot be solved with the application of absurd amounts of high explosives" Sawyer said.
 
Cedric returned the salute and once more looked to the quartermaster. He requisitioned a Type 33 cap, a sleeping bag, equipment for setting up a tent, some basic fire-starting essentials, some military rations, as well as a bag to carry all that stuff in or secured to if necessary. He also requested a machete: just in case of any particularly thick vegetation. Also: while he was at it . . . he picked an NCO "Floppy Cap". He figured it would be his own personal way of celebrating his promotion to an NCO. Once that was done, he turned and started in the direction of Harm and the new guy just in time to hear what the young private had to say about the situation.

" . . . there is no problem that cannot be solved with the application of absurd amounts of high explosives." Sawyer said.
Click to expand...

He placed one hand on Sawyer's shoulder from behind, with a broad grin plastered across his face as he looked at the new guy.

"Don't worry about that, Private. That's my particular job in this messed up little outfit you see before you now." He was still smiling as he talked.
 
When Avel discovered that her equipment was a bunch of outdoor gear she had settled with just simply tearing off the sleeves of her uniform and carrying her usual items. That plus some food bars and a water canteen.

With that done she brought out her data jockey and sent a message to Phaedra asking is she would like a drink.

"Time for some answers."
 
"Is there anything else we should bring non-hiking related? This is shore leave after all and the old man loves to keep the bar well stocked."

Phaedra looked up from her datapad and turned towards Harm.

"Well, the Admiral did suggest bringing along a large cooler with cold beverages. He also suggested that you be the one to carry it," she said, her lips curling up into a smirk.

Her datapad chimed with a message from Avel, asking Phaedra if she wanted to have a drink. Saving the notes she was working on, she replied to Avel's message:

Not at the moment. But most assuredly once we have a break at the proving grounds. We will be bringing an assortment of beverages with us.
Click to expand...
"Aww crap we're not THAT group already are we?

You know, the one where something always goes wrong? There are already enough Phalanx Phillip references for my taste."

Phaedra overheard Harm's comment and thought about her first day in Roger Wilco. It was then that she first joined up with the crew from the NSS Acadia while they were on leave. It was the first time she met Amelia and discovered celtic music. It was the first time she met Harrison and had an in-depth conversation with him. A street gang of ID-SOLs started a gunfight in the bar and the surrounding streets, and Phaedra had made her way to the roof, taking out most of the ID-SOLs with her rifle; it was the first time she had shot and killed someone. It was a day of many firsts.

"Hopefully this shore leave won't be quite as eventful as that one..."
 
Bernhard shook his head. Man the lifeboats Two pyromaniacs. Things were never easy when bombs were involved. Usually because someone inevitably needed a medic.

He took a couple of the new Type 33 caps and left without a word. The drone obviously wasn't giving out alcohol and the latest Marine seemed particularly adept at ignoring him or confusing him for a woman.

Hiking trips, heat, and the expectation of combat during shore leave. Sounded as though the 4th Fleet medics would need an ambulance each. There was always one person who'd get dehydrated, and always someone who injures themselves in some random way on a hike.

Bernhard made his way back to the medbay to clean up. He found Laura there, typing up a message on her datajockey.

"Present for you. These just got in." He tossed her one the new caps.

----------

Laura caught the cap from Bernhard and looked it over. Stiff, smelled new and seemed more utilitarian than the silly beret. "Thanks," she said, turning her attention back to the datajockey.

Sergeant, Private Sitkeas is probably very emotionally distressed and intoxicated by alcohol. Caution recommended. She needs a portion of her demands agreed to before she opens up to medical staff.
-LR
Click to expand...

"I guess we'd better start cleaning up and doing inventory. Any idea what's next?" Laura said to Bernhard, who was stripping off his scrubs. "Hiking, shore leave, bad things. They're talking about bringing firearms for shore leave. And yeah, inventory," he replied, "Don't suppose there's anything I ought to know about that case where you wanted me on standby is there?"

"Nope. Though, still consider yourself on standby if I need to speak to her again."
 
Cedric said:
"Don't worry about that, Private. That's my particular job in this messed up little outfit you see before you now." He was still smiling as he talked.
Click to expand...
"still better to have more than not enough staff sergeant, remember the first equation for demolitions p for plenty" sawyer replied.
 
On that note Sawyer turned to the Quartermaster and asked "if possible would I be able to get about 4 pounds of RX33 and some detonators? I prefer to be prepared for any eventuality. In addition I could probably use a survival pack, about 25 feet of detcord and a few days worth of field rations." (Side note: I hope that this far in the future they have moved past the MRE that is used nowadays, then again given the progression of most military tech that would be too much to hope for.)
 
Cedric's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he heard Sawyer list off the things he wanted to take with him. 14 pounds of plastic explosives? 25 feet of det-chord?! What was the new guy getting ready for? Going "one-man army" on . . . what? The mountains? The local wild-life? Cedric shook his head, his organic ee closed as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Yet despite how obviously shocked, flustered, and frustrated he was: the (recently promoted) Staff Sergeant still managed to smile some as he finally looked up to Sawyer, with one hand stuffed in to a pocket while he once more walked up to the ID-SOL. He tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Listen Private." He chuckled, "I love a big bang as much as the next guy, but I don't think you need so much fire-power."
 
"He would... " Harm replied, somewhere inbetween loathing and laughing at Wazu's suggestion. Her eyes, however, we drawn to the FNG's selection of firepower. She was wondering just how this little situation would resolve.
 
"Hopefully this oughta be sufficient. Well, hopefully we should all have some fun with this shore leave. Just so long as nobody gets hurt and nobody falls when they get too drunk" Sawyer said as he got his gear and had it sent to the shuttle bay. "Hopefully I can get to know the rest of you a lot better while we are down there" Sawyer said looking in particular at Harm and the other woman there, "you all have been fairly welcoming to me and especially with the fact that I'm the new guy and all. I'm glad that you folks will be my squadmates in this exercise, it should be fun though and I look forward to hearing the stories that you can tell me."
 
Arieg quietly stood behind the group, since he left the medical bay he'd switched over to desert pattern digital BDUs with rolled up sleeves. He had two canteens in his web gear, hopefully enough for the hike. He was also carrying six thirty round magazines packed away into their respective pouches and his IBR was strapped to his front, his Paragon PIMP was holstered on his leg not to far from his knife with two thirty round magazines in a leg pocket. Strapped to his back was an SFR-01 Rocket Launcher on top of his rocket quiver itself loaded with three PM-1B Tandem HEAT Rockets.

His mentality was simple, if he couldn't trek in this gear he may as well quit the contract.
 
Phaedra recieved her items from the Quartermaster when she was sent another message.

Sergeant, Private Sitkeas is probably very emotionally distressed and intoxicated by alcohol. Caution recommended. She needs a portion of her demands agreed to before she opens up to medical staff.
-LR
Click to expand...
"I'm not sure she should be making demands of anyone at this point," thought Phaedra.

Shortly after this, Drej sent Phaedra a message detailing several areas of the proving grounds. In particular, Phaedra was interested in firing range at the top of one of the mountains.

"Some target shooting would be enjoyable," she thought.

Once she had her belongings, she turned addressed the crew who were still in the armory.

"Alright people, we will be leaving soon. Grab your gear and assemble in the shuttle bay."

Phaedra stepped into the lift and headed up to Deck 5. Once there she headed to her room, which was located adjacent to the barracks. She grabbed any gear which she thought she would need, including a bivouac tent and sleeping bag and strategically placed them into her backback. She put on a new pair of slacks and replaced her pull-over with a green tank top. Phaedra gathered up her mane of white hair and tied it back into a ponytail; the braid, however, was left free to hang down her left side. She replaced her beret with the Type 33 cap and then hefted the backpack onto her back. She made sure to grab her rifle case before leaving the room and then she took the lift down to the shuttle bay.

Once there, she dropped her things onto one of the seats and then waited just outside the ramp for the rest of the crew. She stood with her hands on her hips, and anyone who saw Phaedra there could clearly see her cybernetic left arm, as well as the large amount of scar tissue on the left side of her body.
 
Hearing the notice from sgt phaedra sawyer finished with the quartermaster asked a drone to retrieve the rest of his kit from his barracks room, and took off to the shuttle bay to make sure he didn't get known as the slow one, taking his pack designated marksman rifle and all his necessary gear for spending some time out in the wilderness with him.
 
Laura grumbled under her breath. Was sleep something entirely unheard of? Since she had joined, the squad had been returned from a combat operation, jumped into a casino filled with people who used them for target practice and now they were off hiking?! All in the span of two days?

Wait... that would mean someone would most likely collapse. Which would be hilarious since Laura was still plenty fresh. Well, when compared to the others. "This should be fun. Let's get our gear! You carry the medical stuff!" Laura squealed happily, imagining the whole squad fainting from the heat. Before Bernhard could reply, she bounded off to change and get her gear.

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

Bernhard looked about like someone had just announced that the NMX had started a chain of ice-cream shops. Like all good Marines, he decided asking the Sergeant was best.


With that message sent on his datajockey, Bernhard went to his room and eyed the bed. The level of stress and activity had certainly tired him. Laura had seemed pretty exhausted too when she had first come in. She was probably running on fumes.

He finished changing into a new uniform quickly. So he lay on the bed, desperately wishing to close his eyes. But instead, he pulled out his datajockey and began writing.


That done, he saved it and sent a copy to Laura. After a couple deep breaths, Bernhard lay back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Sergeants be damned. He was going to sleep.

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

Laura's datajockey beeped as Bernhard's log arrived. She had finished changing and read through. He's smart... she thought, impressed with the simple clarity in the log. However, she also noticed three things.

First, he hadn't consulted the ship's medical database, which would have everything up to date. Obviously, he had been working from personal observation and memory, which was pretty good.

Second, Bernie hadn't included himself in the list. Whether it had been deliberate or an oversight, she didn't know. So quickly, Laura added an entry for him.

Laura Romero said:
Medical Log addendum.
Bernie Greer, P3C, Wonder-Medic: Physically awesome.

Notes: Crazy good at his job. Needs to relax more.
Click to expand...

Laura send the updated log to Bernie. She had everything so she decided to see if he was in the medbay, getting the medical supplies ready.

When she arrived, he wasn't to be seen. So she bounded off to his quarters, unlocking the door with her sneaky medical overrride code. Laura had expected to catch him changing, not fast asleep in bed.

Mischievously, she tried tickling him. No response. Laura tried poking him, again no response. Now she was frustrated. He wasn't being fun.

But then, he was kinda cute in the "Aww, he's so tired, nothing can wake him up" kind of way. Laura placed her rifle against the wall and hopped onto the bed, lying beside him. Even her proximity wasn't waking him! Laura leaned in close, her face hovering just over his, hoping that her body odor would wake him. Still nothing!

"I give up!" she sighed, laying down beside him. Ten seconds later, she too had fallen asleep.
 
The pair would get a solid 20 minutes of uninterrupted sleep before an invisible attacker would enter the room, carefully reaching under their blankets to set up a trap.

A few minutes later harm would show up, flicking the lights in the barraks on and off, "COME ON YOU TWO! WE'RE LEAVING!"
 
Both Laura and Bernhard awoke with a start. In their sleep dazed state, neither of them processed why they were looking at each other for a second. For some reason, their hands were entangled beneath each other's clothing. Hurriedly, they tried to disentangle themselves without looking.

"What are your hands doing on my boobs?" Laura demanded with a glare made comical by the embarrassment across her face. "What are you doing in my bed with your hands in my pants?" Bernhard replied emphatically.

"Right, we're leaving. Damn." Both he and Laura followed Harm out. He carried all of his equipment, the medkit and a hypolathe. "Bet you're still thinking about my boobs," Laura whispered, mischievously.
 
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