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RP: NSS Acadia [Mission 6] The Cow Level

Zack

Zack

Inactive Member
With the raid on Higaflan finished, the Marines would be taken back to the NSS Asp and given twenty minutes to run through decontamination, get checked out in the medbay, and offload their armors into the power armor bay before being expected to show up in the ship’s conference room for the mission debrief. The room itself had been arranged with rows of seats, all facing the same wall which was showing the various power armor video footage collected from the marines after the operation. The room was kept dimly lit, just enough to see everyone’s faces yet draw attention to the big screen.

Wazu was standing by the screen at the front of the room. This time he was wearing an undecorated blue naval coat and Once everyone had been gathered he would begin.

---

“We have another operation to conduct, so we’ll make this short. We have two new marines fresh from basic. Rachel McCallum and Darux Gashil.

The transports with our rescued civilians are at a rally point in deep space where we can process the civilians. Assuming they all are who they say there are it is looking like we will have saved 2,342 people. We did loose one transport along with about 500 more people, from the looks of it one people we freed had been implanted with an explosive device that ripped the ship apart from the inside.

An NMX bioweapon also managed to sneak onboard the NSS Holly during egress from the area. It masqueraded as a Nepleslian female and according to the scanners on the power armor she looked Nepleslian. Blood tests seemed to work but I believe we need to work on deploying better sensor and detection gear for next time. Anyone with ideas should forward them to Drei or myself.

The facility we hit,” Wazu stopped for a moment to bring up recordings of the inside of the building that the marines had gone through on their way out of the tunnels. “Looks to be like an old school bioweapons facility. The large storage tanks seem to be designed to hold growth medium for viruses and bacteria. The scale implies they already have a working weapon, and were ramping up to large scale testing. Small amounts like what we’ve been finding in the civvies we picked up are easy for us to handle but a large scale outbreak on Nepleslia is something I would like to avoid. Anytime you run into an NMX presence keep this in mind and consider the warzone to be hot. Avoid leaving your armor and report to the medbay immediately if you are feeling the slightest bit sick. I will not be responsible for bringing something back to Nepleslia.

There is also an issue of unprofessional conduct on the last operation. Get that shit straightened out or I will.“ Wazu reached for the datapad on the podium and took a quick look. “Communication between the ships and ground operations was cut off after the ground attack started. It looks like they pumped a lot of energy into the atmosphere to get signals to bounce off. I will be working on a solution for this problem and we should have something ready by our next operation in NMX space. We will be compensating with additional ground attack craft in the mean time.

Now are there any questions, comments, or concerns about the last operation before we start the briefing for the next one?” Wazu asked. “Our power armor repair kits seem to have left something to be desired and the ground team could use ways to improve coordination.
 
Rachel had positioned herself in one of the back rows. Her red hair was tied up properly, her uniform clean and orderly, her posture up to the most rigorous drill sergeant's standards. For an observer, she was clearly a fresh recruit, just out of basic training and into the world, with a fresh green suit and a commendation for discipline to boot. Yet, she felt strangely uneasy in midst of her new comrades, even more so confronted with the prospect (and images) of real action, even more so under the eyes of a man who represented every ideal she lived for.

As her eyes wandered through the room, they found only unknown faces with unknown motivations behind them. These were soldiers, without doubt, yet soldiers of a different air than she had imagined. Then again, Rachel reassured herself, she had not yet met any of them – of course these strangers would just be a room of unfamiliar faces. That would change, soon enough.

She returned to following the Admiral, now concentrating in earnest on his every word. Of course, most of what he said during the debriefing could not be more than noise to her, odd words and remarks aimed at those who participated in the operation, but still, she honestly tried to follow and to learn. Behind her boot camp proven discipline, she could not hide a deep-rooted admiration for the man, or at least the concepts he represented. Rachel relaxed a bit as the debriefing concluded.

She had made the right decision to join the military, and itched to show that she belonged here.
 
Darux stepped into the debriefing room with a scowl that gave off a 'I hate everything' aura. Of course, it didn't really mean that. His face was almost always in a scowl and at the moment, it was twisted into a hateful look because he was thinking deeply on what the machine he spoke to said. Unconsciously, he chose the third seat from the door, a habit of his, and ran his left hand through his hair, yet another habit of his.

After a few moments, he looked around at the other solders. "Wonder if they'll be useful," he said under his breath before resting his eyes.
 
As Cedric entered the room, he had changed from how he had been before raiding the prison camp. Before he had been tense with nerves. If the mission had gone well, he would have been his same jovial self. Instead, his shoulders were sagging as he walked in, and picked a seat that was somewhere vaugely in the center. He was bearing a self-imposed cross. Fhion.

That dirty, worthless Mishu spy.

It had been his fault she had gotten on the ship. He had been the one who personally found her and then took part in escorting her to the surface. Then, when she had revealed herself, his revolver had proven useless, and he was left with nothing to do but get back in his suit in order to secure engineering. Then, when it came down to it: he didn't even have the pleasure of being the one to correct his horrible mistake by killing her himself.

No, that had been Matteo.

Looking around to the faces of people with whom he was only barely familiar, even he was able to pick out the two new arrivals. Whether they realized it or not, they had that ram-rod straight back to them that showed them for who they were. Cedric examined them both briefly, quirking his brow at the man scowling in the back, and then looked back to the front of the room once again while he listened.
 
Anselm stood up from his seat, more than irritated regarding many things, and swathed in bandages stained pink by blood and clotting agents, "I have one question, sir, before I take my leave of the service and your ship," he said stolidly.

The transfer had already been put through and the marine was scheduled to leave by shuttle before the mission was underway; the order itself had arrived in Wazu's inbox at the same time Anselm had been notified. Well, that was quick, the marine had thought to himself upon receiving the news that he was now officially a contracted civilian. His wounds already prevented him from taking part in further missions and the albino had elected not to re-enlist as his tour of duty, four long and rewarding years barring this short stint aboard the NSS Asp, a veritable insane asylum for one man, came to a close.

"Will you be sending my comrades into harm's way with that mercenary playing Chief again or is someone within the ranks being properly assigned to their unit?" The pun was completely unintended, but the marine smiled somewhere deep inside when the words unfurled so properly off his tongue.
 
Phaedra had found a seat nearby to Anselm, as he was one of the only familiar faces she noticed in the room. Phaedra found herself annoyed at how the incident with the NMX creature went over. While her squadmates performed admirably, she hated that fact that she ended up storming down the halls of an unfamiliar ship by herself.

"A foolish move that could have gotten me killed; what was I thinking?" thought Phaedra. Her left hand unconsciously began to stroke the stitches on her face until she caught the mannerism. She was thankful that she had neglected to wear her NIGHT's helmet, as now there would be no embarrassing footage of her wandering around the ship. Phaedra was pulled out of her thoughts when their new commanding officer spoke.

"Now are there any questions, comments, or concerns about the last operation before we start the briefing for the next one?" asked Wazu.

Phaedra was suprised when Anselm stood up. Considering the condition he was currently in, she was suprised he could stand at all.

"I have one question, sir, before I take my leave of the service and your ship," said Anselm.

"What?" thought Phaedra. She didn't really hear the rest of Anselm's question.

"Another comrade, another friend that will be leaving...first Amelia, then Will, now Anselm..."

"No dammit!" thought Phaedra with clenched fists.

"I will say goodbye this time. I won't just let another friend leave without letting me say goodbye."
 
Henry had filed for a transfer too, just like Anselm had. The events on the NSS Asp didn't have to happen, according to his logic. He was sitting next to Phaedra with his datapad in hands and a mild case of radiation sickness that he was taking medicine for. If someone looked at his Datapad, they'd see an open message for transfer.

He selected to be transferred to a more defence oriented line of work, maybe defending a colony up in the expanse, or even taking some time off and learning to be a civilian again. He'd selected, like Anselm, not to re-enlist until he felt that he was ready, and would not be participating in the current mission.

He then heard Anselm saying that he'd be leaving the ship, as well as his distrust of Harm. Henry felt it necessary to nod in agreement with albino's statement with a succinct: "Seconded."
 
The sound of heavy footsteps reverberated off the walls slightly as the marine marched down the hallway to the meeting room. Under normal circumstances the footsteps would belong to a well built man. But the individual in question was a woman who (save for the ID-SOL's she brushed past.) towered over most of the males present.

One of the marines she passed looked at her name tag and the color suddenly drained from his face. The woman quickly took note of this and stopped.

"What? What are you looking at?" Avel asked with an annoyed look on her face.

"Un nothing." The man replied quickly before shuffling onwards.

Normally Avel would have said something witty in response to his behavior but her mind was focused on other things at the moment. Mostly the fact that she was assigned to a ship called the Arcadia to take part in the defense of Rok'Veru, only to have everything turn black, then suddenly wake up and discover that it was YE 32.

Not only that but she had been demoted to PC4 or at least that's what her letter said. She didn't even have her original things and her money was nowhere to be found, leaving her sh*t broke.

Avel's only rationalization was that she had been knocked into a coma. But that still didn't explain the demotion or any of the other things that didn't add up.

Avel then entered the room where her new commanding officer Admiral Wazu was briefing them on the mission. She hadn't missed too much thankfully and made her way over to the most shaded part of the room as not to draw attention to herself.

She could figure out this mess later. She had a mission to do.
 
“When we have officers made available to us they will be brought onboard. In the mean time the majority of the new officers are being assigned to the 1st assault fleet. Until things get situated with the senate or a suitable replacement officer is found here, we will be operating with the help of private contractors.” Wazu said.

He would give a few more moments for people to ask questions before continuing.

“Our next operation will takes us back to Nepleslia. The Neppies Beef Ranch reported a series of injuries requiring medical attention at 8:53am local time, about one hour ago. When the blues arrived on scene they were advised by Neppies Beef Ranch workers that escaped the facility had activated biohazard precautions and advised the blues that something was loose in the facility.

The blues are mostly uniformed officers now, any of them entering the facility is risking exposure and unintentional spread of whatever is inside.

Do to the nature and timing of this, I have strong reason to believe that the NMX are involved.

When we arrive we have four goals. We need to secure the interior of the facility, Remove any threat of spreading the contamination, to gather information on this contamination and find out how it was spread.

The facility itself is a four story tall complex situated south of Funky City. We will deploy via shuttle and enter through the access points on the roof of the building then make our way down through the Id-Cow growth areas to reach the building’s command room. After we get a copy of their hard drive we will split up and start burning out any source of infection.

Be sure you take some form of incendiary weapon, lasers or incendiary grenades. Try not to take anything to explosive that might rip a hole in the walls and let contamination spread.

Finally, sense this group of marines lacks a science officer I will be accompanying the ground unit. The data we have about the layout of the facility will be sent to your datapads. This data has been out of date for a year after the facilities renovation but be sure to have a look at it before we leave anyways.

Are there any questions or should I let you all get to your food?”
 
Avel looked on with a neutral expression. So that was their mission. Drop in the roof, grab the data from the command room and burn the mystery infection. Sounded simple enough.

Avel glanced at her data pad and looked over the map, memorizing the layout of every floor. The building had been renovated but the locations of the main objectives were most likely in the same place as they were before. Her only concern was what they might run into in there.

"Are there any questions or should I let you all get to your food?” Wazu asked. Avel did have one question on her mind.

"Will we be wearing power armor or special suits when we go in." She asked.
 
"Power Armors," Wazu replied, "They should provide sufficient protection and have their own enclosed environment. Every power armor in our inventory is rated against biological threats so long as it isn't punctured and you remain inside the suit during the operation. A decontamination team will be waiting for us outside when we finish to clean off the armors to allow for a safe dismount."
 
Darux listened listened to the briefing with his eyes shut only opening one when someone brushed past him. He took a quick glance at the person and was surprised to see a women walk past. He sighed, he couldn't be surprised anymore, especially if he was going into a mission zone. Something like that could get you killed.
At the mention of incendiary weaponry, Darux shifted uncomfortably. He remembered a time when he mishandled an incendiary grenade and set himself on fire, not something he wanted to relive.
After Admiral Wazu asked if there were any questions, Darux tried to answer. It was then he noticed his hands were folded and he was gripping at his sides with most of his strength. Instead of asking, he rolled his shoulders until he felt he looked less nervous (He didn't). "If I may ask," Darux started a few seconds after Wazu answered the previous question, "Is there any more information on what that"'Something" that's loose in the facility?"
 
Matteo was in a good mood. On the other hand, he usually was in a rather good mood, but that wasn't very important. What was important could be counted on his fingers; new people, new departures, new mission. The ex-syndicate member was sitting in one of the back rows, but not due to some sociopathic tendency or other, no, it wasn't the case. He wanted to see all the faces mill about. From his vantage point, he could make out the two new guys.

One really stood out of the crowd with her red hair. Natural too, by his judgment; even after decades of development, dyes would always have something off about them, and gene mods stood out even more in his opinion, especially when on a person with which it did not mesh with properly. And big shiny green eyes with a few freckles. A classic combination. A pity she looked rather stiff. This 'Rachel' just wasn't comfortable by the looks of things. One would think that being amongst a new crew with plenty of potential new friends would be exciting, but apparently, the idea of strangers was stressful to her. 'Oh well, her loss.'

And then the other guy, 'Darux'. The very first thing that caught Matteo's attention about the man was the strange set of eyes; one red and one gray. The gray was normal enough, but the red? Either a fake, something caused by some sort of accident, or a relatively rare oddity, the likelihood of those possibilities in that order. Matteo could already tell the man was a creature of habit; he didn't actively pick his seat, and in all likelihood, messing with his hair was something of the same nature. And then there was that scowl. Probably another sociopath. 'Ah, I'm such a hypocrite.'

But back to business; he could mess with them after the briefing. "Sir, with regards to the NMX bioweapon that had boarded the ship, has it been contained or destroyed?"

'Yeah, what did happen to Fhion? She was cute in her own arrogant, bitchy way like all Nekos were.' He briefly thought of 'Harm', but squirreled away the thought for later.
 
“Neppies does not allow cameras inside of its beef growth facilities. We have access to air quality sensors and they show elevated levels of methane and CO2, but the atmosphere inside is still breathable. Six employees are unaccounted for out of the 37 that work at the facility. Assuming this bioweapon release is similar to the ones deployed by the NMX during their earlier raid on Nepleslia we can expect infected individuals to have been converted into NMX sympathizers who will attack us on sight. Because the bioweapon specifically targets the brain the only cure is to resurrect the affected from an earlier ST backup so you should terminate hostile individuals on sight. If we come across uninfected then keep them contained until after we’ve cleared the facility.

We think that the bioweapon the NMX uses is deployed in an airborne aerosol that protects the vulnerable bacteria and nanomachines. We normally don’t see any additional infections beyond those transferred by blood beyond the first hour but that does not mean it is safe to pop your armor.

We have also identified at least one NMX shock trooper on Nepleslia and it has produced at least four additional ones sense its arrival based on what we have seen. If you see a floater, treat it like an enemy power armor, focus your fire on it and destroy it quickly. There are also numerous NMX ID-Sols on Nepleslia that may show up here.

NMX soldiers have been seen equipped with Zen Arms 10mm SMGs, various grenades, and shoulder launched anti-ship missiles. Only the missiles pose a real threat to power armors. Shock Troopers are typically armed with a plasma cannon and can use their tentacles to hold multiple small arms. Plasma cannons can easily be disrupted by electrical fields and will often blow back onto the user when in a field of appropriate charge but if you let it hit you the superheated mass can burn away the armor on a hostile or aggressor armor. Finally, Neppies Beef Ranch hasn’t been a big target sense the Street War, but that does not mean they are not armed. They could be equipped with anything and are almost certainly stocked with small arms of their own.

The Neppies Beef Ranch also contains around 500 ID-Cows at any given time in various states of growth. The creatures are docile and should not be a threat. The feeding and meat separating equipment could be dangerous if you stick your hands into it, so do not do that.”

Wazu would then take a look at the datapad on the podium again, flipping through some data then looking over at Matteo.

“We tried to recover as much data about Fhion as possible however once her brain was separated from the rest of her body, everything began to decompose rapidly. Within a few minutes she was entirely gone.

If there is nothing else, you are all released. Head down to the power armor bay and requisition the armor and gear you want for this assignment.”

---

The Power armor bay was filled with rows of Power Armor Nodes Many occupied by power armors from the last operation that had been heavily damaged. Junker Drones were moving about, replacing damaged armor, repair torn reactors, and repainting armor where needed. A single drone with a paper hat that had ‘quartermaster’ written across it was sitting in a chair behind a desk in the Power Armor Bay. Its mechanical tendrils were all holding various datapads, waiting for crewmembers to come to it and requisition any equipment they might need.


In the Mess Hall a long table had been set out, covered with a buffet tended by a single jet black junker drone. This drone had ‘Chef’ scribbled across its metallic skin in chalk, and a small apron tied around its spherical body. Three large bandages had been placed on its body where it had been shot earlier by one of the marines. It had laid out a spread of eggs, pancakes, sausage, and bacon as well as various drinks, pastries, and candies.
 
Avel had wasted no time heading down to the power armor bay when the mission briefing had ended and was the first to arrive. She spotted the 'quartermaster' not too far off and marched over to the junker drone.

Clearing her throat, Avel began speaking in a business like manner. "Excuse me, I'd like to requisition a Hostile power armor with the standard HPAR-01 armament and standard ammunition."

Avel was about to wait for a response but then remembered something.

"Oh and if you happen to have a TEGB-4 Triethylaluminium Based Flamethrower, Version 4 on you I'd like one of those as well."
 
Cedric listened to the briefing quietly. Once it was done, he headed down to the armory at an easy pace. Finding the quartermast, he waited until the woman addressing the drone was done, and then stepped up to do the same. He crossed his arms, looking around at all the armors, and then turned to speak to the drone.

"I want an Aggressor." He stated simply, "I need a AMP-01a with standard ammunition. Also, do you have any incendiary grenades that I could have? Like, maybe three?" Cedric asked with a shrug, "Maybe a flamethrower, too?"
 
Harm would follow Avel out of the briefing room, waiting for her to be stuck by the quartermaster before approaching. She had on her bodysuit still, but had hidden her ears in her hair, deciding to look ‘human’ this time instead of giving everything away too early.

“Hey Avel!” She’d shout, putting her hand on the girl’s right shoulder as she walked around her left side, “Was wondering, what did you do to earn your P4C?”

The Quartermaster drone would cut it, speaking to Avel, “Your requested armor is in node 8 with standard equipment. The TEGB-4 will be manufactured and transported to your node in six minutes.”

“…Because there have only been two or three P4Cs in the history of the marines. You must have really pissed someone off.”

---

@ Cedric

As harm talked with Avel Nearby, the Quartermaster drone would turn to Cedric,

“YES SIR! Your armor will be sent to node 7 along with the requested supplies. A case of plasma grenades and a TEGB will be sent there once manufactured.

---

@ Kingston

Kingston would receive a message from a doctor, the datapad he had been assigned when he joined the marines beeping in notification.

“The patient you dropped off was medically dead for a while but we managed to restart heart and brain activity. We are attaching prosthetic legs tomorrow and she will need a few months time to recover. She is in a medically induced coma until we finish all the surgeries and some of the brain damage might not ever be healed.

She did say her name was Roxi, and to thank you for saving her.”
 
Anselm clapped a heavy cybernetic hand about Cedric's shoulder, "kid, AMP's always come with standard ammunition, there's not much variety in plasma materials," he chuckled, giving the rookie a sharp smile before moving off into the bay, "now that scrap heap should... aha!"

Anselm clambered up into an Aggressor and rooted around the inside until he managed to come out triumphantly with its Savtech card. A tech passing by took offence, "sir, you can't do that."

Anselm waived the tech off, "psh, orders from NAM, they want my combat data, just put a new card in."

"Your?" the tech looked at the Aggressor, fingers already punching in a request, "you've been keeping mission data stored on a shared AI?!"

"Well, anyone can just copy what they want, but yeah-"

"That's inconceivable, anyone could have taken that! State secrets!"

Anselm glanced sidelong at the taller tech, "if somebody had the stuff to sneak into an Admiral's ship and steal a worthless bit of mission data on some grunt, I think we'd have bigger problems on our hands; like say questions about said Admiral's loyalty to the Imperium."

That shut the technician up as he wondered if the albino had given him a spate of innuendo, "Hey, wait- ....where the hell'd he go?"

Evasion successful, the marine made his way to the hangar where his transport was waiting, he didn't have to gather his things since they'd been left on the Acadia and claimed a few days earlier courtesy of NAM's representatives.
 
After giving her request Avel patiently waited for a response. That is until somebody walked up from behind and placed their hand on her shoulder.

“Hey Avel!” The person shouted. “Was wondering, what did you do to earn your P4C?”

Upon hearing the phrase PC4 Avel cringed. She had hoped that nobody would notice her current rank but it looked like one of the people present had a brain.

Then the drone cut in. “Your requested armor is in node 8 with standard equipment. The TEGB-4 will be manufactured and transported to your node in six minutes.”

“…Because there have only been two or three P4Cs in the history of the marines. You must have really pissed someone off.”

Avel sighed and looked down at the person who had spoken to her. She was a little surprised to see a small green haired woman in a tight fitting bodysuit instead of a marine. She looked like a freelance spy straight out of a comic book.

"I wish I knew." She replied and turned her full attention to her. "All I know is that I've been demoted. No idea what happened, no trial or anything. Just "You've been demoted, go to the Acadia and it's now YE 32". Yeah, thanks for clearing that up for me." She added the last part sarcastically.

"Mysterious memory gaps aside, who are you exactly?" Avel asked.
 
Darux got up as the mission briefing ended and took his time walking toward the quartermaster. As he walked in to the room where the quartermaster was, he heard a woman's voice asking, "Who are you exactly?" He turned his head and opened his mouth to respond but saw that the woman was not speaking to him. Bowing his head apologetically, he took two steps back before sharply turning toward the quartermaster.

"I would like to requisition an Earth power armor, strip it of its NAM Assault Ordnance Projector AOP-01a and then equip it with a NAM Forearm Grenade Launcher FGL-01a using orange rounds, if that would be alright with you." Darux asked saying the last part as an afterthought. He was about to request incendiary grenades but quickly changed his mind, "God I hate fire."
 
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