What's new
  • If you were supposed to get an email from the forum but didn't (e.g. to verify your account for registration), email Wes at [email protected] or talk to me on Discord for help. Sometimes the server hits our limit of emails we can send per hour.
  • Get in our Discord chat! Discord.gg/stararmy
  • 📅 May and June 2024 are YE 46.4 in the RP.

RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Off-Duty 1.0] Choosing Poisons

Sigma

Sigma

Inactive Member
Nepleslia Prime, 4th Fleet HQ, 2nd Floor,

With free time, cash in hand (some more so than others), the majority of 4th Fleet's Marines headed for the bar on the 2nd floor. 48 hours free, can't leave base, ergo get sodden drunk ON base! Such was the logic of Corporal Hawkins, endorsed by a grinning Chief Santiago, questioned by the analytical Holmes, reluctantly agreed upon by Sergeant Rochester and resulted in a confused Phaedra Volkov bringing her squad along with all the others.

Missing were several members from the various squads, including Cedric Sommerville and Sawyer Aubrey.

As the squad leaders passed out the steins of beer, Chief Leon Santiago decided to get something stronger. "Glass of whisky, straight. Everything here from the Marines, on my tab!" he declared the second part loudly to the Marines, to uproarious cheers.

As he turned, Santiago stepped forward and almost walked into Phaedra Volkov's back, narrowly missing a collision with great skill and a subtle drift of his fingers across the seats of her pants. "Oh, sorry, Volkov, didn't see you behind me," he said, moving past her to mingle.

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

Laura Romero whooped with joy with the news of free-flow alcohol. She gazed longingly at the rows of liquor, unable to choose her first of the night. "Which one, which one, which one?!" she complained. From Bernhard Greer's point of view, Laura Romero in a bar was like a kid in a toy shop.

"Two white gummy bears, for her and me," Bernhard told the nearest civilian bartender. Laura's surprise quickly disappeared as Bernhard looked at her. "These better be good," she threatened darkly. In turn, he grinned with a knowing, "You'll see."
 
John grinned to himself, quietly, from the back of the bar. Deciding he wasn't going to get anybody to buy him a drink yet, he walked up to the bar and bought one himself. That kind of camaraderie was reserved for people the Chief actually knew anything about beyond 'he pissed off the captain on the first day'.

"Give me any weak beer," he told the barman. He was well aware that being short didn't do anything good for your ability to hold your liquor. He got looks from people around him as he said this – what kind of good Nepleslian ordered a weak drink? He had no intention of being a good Nepleslian, however. He handed the barman a couple of dollars and headed to his table, taking care not to spill his drink on the many disturbingly tall monolith-men orbiting the bar.

Sitting down, he started on his drink and noticed a few people were giving him looks. He wondered if he'd have to hold a conversation tonight.
 
"Oh, sorry, Volkov, didn't see you behind me."

"It's alright," was all that Phaedra said, quickly turning her attention back towards her shot of vodka. She leaned on the bar and tapped the glass with the metal fingers of her left hand.

While Phaedra figured that the majority of the Chief's criticisms were intended to agitate and intimidate; she admitted that some of them were completely valid.

"How hard is it to breach a door?" thought Phaedra, again grimacing at the failed entry into the facility. She took another sip from her glass.

"Who is he to determine my style of leadership? I cannot use my marksmanship to it's fullest effect if I do not have a weapon accurate enough!"

Phaedra finished off the rest of her glass and asked for another.

"So this is the burden of command; being blamed for your subordinate's failures? So be it. Whatever it takes; I will make the Cavaliers the Best Goddamn Unit in the Fleet!"

Phaedra contemplated her second shot, her expression blank.

"But how?" asked a small doubtful voice in the back of her mind.
 
Sawyer finally showed up, with a new prosthetic limb that appeared to have a slogan etched into its surface. "Solem Fero" was what the slogan appeared to be. He wasn't walking on his prosthetic and was instead using crutches to keep off it in accordance with the doctor's orders. "Hey ya'll, how're you doing?" Sawyer asked as he crutched his way to the bar and ordered a vodka and orange juice. He then crutched his way over and sat near Laura and Bernhard.
 
Leon Santiago wrapped his conversation with Corporal Holmes. He felt like the man was only feigning interest and when the man was involved in the conversation, was subtly running circles around Santiago. It was the sort of conversation where one felt like one was being insulted but wasn't too sure about it.

With that, he walked up to Phaedra Volkov. "Sergeant, I wanted to talk to you. Informally. Do you have a minute or is your drink that fascinating?" He pointed with an open palm to her glass of clear vodka.

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

"Country boy!" Laura declared joyously, raising her glass in salute. "The new Chief said all the drinks are on him! Order up!" She took her glass of what Bernhard called a White Gummy Bear and downed a bit. It was sweet, like candy, and did not burn like straight alcohol. In fact, Laura was surprised that it did not even taste like alcohol.

"Hey Aubrey," Bernhard greeted, "So, Romero? Do I have good taste?" He looked at the young woman, waiting for her answer. In response, Laura drunk the rest of her drink and swished it in her mouth like a mouthwash before swallowing. "I don't know, I think a second one is needed for a proper comparison," the young clone grinned.
 
"Hey Laura, how're you feeling" Sawyer said nodding to her "Hey bernhard, how's the hand?" he asked as he ordered a couple more vodkas mixed with a variety of things including sodas and energy drinks.
 
"Sergeant, I wanted to talk to you. Informally. Do you have a minute or is your drink that fascinating?" asked Santiago.

Phaedra turned and regarded Leon. She prepared to defend herself and her squad against the Chief's accusations until he said "Informally." This relaxed Phaedra slightly, but she still kept her guard up; Leon Santiago was still an unknown to her.

"No, I do not find vodka terribly fascinating," replied Phaedra, taking her hands off the glass and resting her left arm on the bar.

"What did you need to talk about, Chief?"
 
Henry Morris was remaining quiet, polite and in the background of the bar. For what little time on Leave he had, he wouldn't have been able to prototype something - not unless all 48 hours of it could be used at once. He fondly remembered the times where he and the other engineers would get together and try and build something in that time frame.

However, there was a snowball's chance in hell of that happening since Leon Santiago was such a perceived hardarse to the rest of the crew. Henry wasn't one to let the officer's badmouthing get to him, but the rest of the crew had no choice.

That said, he was sketching designs for some sort of power capacitor, a smaller, more efficient one that could let out all of its energy in a hurry rather than in chunks. The problem was just keeping it cool. Henry sipped at a Scotch on the rocks as he pondered the equations and tapped his pen against the notepad in thought.

When he gave up for the moment, he put his notepad away and looked at the others chatting and conversing. It must've been pretty good to be able to shoot the breeze, it was always a challenge for Henry. It was kind of a shame, he had the good looks and a neatly trimmed beard to compliment it, but not the charisma to back it up.
 
Your beautiful ass and voluptuous bosom for starters, Leon sighed. "Informal, no ranks. Agreed? I'm Leon, or Jake. Whichever you prefer. Don't ask about the Jake name. No one is sure where or how I picked up the nickname and I've heard three different stories so far."

Leon modulated his voice so that it was quieter and more friendly. "Wanted you to know that I'm not here to be your enemy or to replace you or to make your life hell. I'm here to make everyone, including myself, better at our jobs so that we won't ever have entire squads wiped out again. I know we started on a negative note but I wanted you to know that none of it is personal."

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

"Hand's throbbing every now and then. How's the leg, Aubrey?" Bernhard replied. "Feeling good, was kinda annoyed almost no one came to see me," Laura added
 
"Still trying to get used to it" Sawyer replied to Bernhard's question, looking at Laura he said "Sorry I didn't come to visit you, I had to get my leg reattached after a massive bitch fest from the admiral and a debriefing after that." With that he drank his drink and started on his next one.
 
Bastilen yawned with a stretch of his arms as he walked into the bar, his eyelids a tad heavy over his metal eyes. The day itself had been tiring to say the least, and he needed a drink to spread things over. Just as he stepped in, the Private Fourth Class pulled off his beret to run his fingers through his hair, letting the contained strands get some air. The somewhat spent man toddled over to the bar, in quiet ignorance of the other Marines there. Even though it appeared he was going to express lengths to not notice the others, he found a spot on the bar not far from John, or the Sergeant and Chief.

Rather, Bastilen was more concerned with his drink than the others. The Marine tapped the table as the bartender busily worked away.

"I'll order a SLAM energy drink." he said simply, resolving that drunkeness was not the best idea on his first night back. When he got drunk, he did stupid things. Stupid things he didn't need to do while on probation. In all honesty, he needed just a little to drink, but it was hard to drink just a little.

Bastilen held his head as fuzzy, alcohol-saturated memories came back, giving him leverage against the temptations.
 
"No ranks then, Leon. You may call me Phaedra, or Wolf if you so choose."

The Chief then proceeded to explain that he was not here to be Phaedra's enemy. On the contrary, he wanted to ensure Phaedra that he was here to train the Marines; to instruct them so that debacles like the previous mission do not happen again.

"I know we started on a negative note but I wanted you to know that none of it is personal."

"You critized not only myself, my leadership, and my fighting abilities, but also the performance of my unit as a whole, and you say it is not personal?" said Phaedra, slightly agitated. She shook her head.

"Of course it was personal; a leader embodies the men and women under their command. They are the figurehead, as well as the scapegoat." Phaedra sighed.

"That said, Leon, I agreed with most of your criticisms. I had too little time to instruct our new recruits as well as enforce the professional discipline that is required of all Marines. Perhaps, as a clone, I had an easier time adjusting to military life. I cannot say the same for the rest of the unit."

"So despite our extremely negative meeting, I do look forward to taking advantage of your expertise. I wish to challenge what you said about 4th fleet being the bottom of the barrel; I wish to make the Cavaliers the best unit the the whole Fleet, if not all of the NSMC."
 
Alexandra walked in shortly after Sawyer, she got herself double whiskey on rocks and went to the injured marine. He seemed to chat away with his buddies. Alex still did not know them really. As she walked around she looked for Rita but did not see her anyway.

"Mind if I join you mates?" Alex asked as she stood nexto Sawyer.

____
____

Lisa stormed in the bar. She looked around, trying to figure out, who all was in already. She noticed Sawyer, Bernie, Laura and some orange-sking chick. She certainly did not want to face Bernie, until she had few beers in herself.

She also noticed that bastard chief chatting up Sarge Volkov. Even though she went out of the line and Chief just put her down, she could not get over it. She felt that she will go against him just because. She did not need reason other then not liking him right now.

With scowl on her face, she walked to the bar and waited till the bartender gave her his attention. "Best beer on tap." She ordered and sit on the bar stool. She noticed strange marine sitting alone near the toilets. Seemed to have rather fascinating cybernetic eyes. She wondered who he was, because she has never seen him before. Since drinking by herself was not really her thing, she stood up and walked to him, sitting on the bar stool next to his, her body turned to him.

"Hey there stranger," She said. "You come here often?" Lisa was not known to have the best 'pick-up lines', she just really wanted to break the ice now.
 
"Hey Alex, sure pull up a seat and chat" Sawyer replied, looking around at who all was there and noticing quite a few people that were missing, most notably Rita and Cedric. He wondered where Rita was but didn't pay much attention to Cedric not being there. "So what are everyone's plans for after we get rip roaringly drunk here?" He asked the trio that was there.
 
"Alexandra Mayhew, jolly good to meet you." Alex presented herself as she pulled up a chair and sat next to Sawyer. They were same squad but she really only knew Sawyer so far. Other man appeared to be the unit'S medic, but she only saw that awfully young girl on briefing.
 
Bastilen turned his gaze in the direction of the tall woman who had decided to take a seat next to him. The P4C gave the woman a short up and down, before fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket. If people were just going to come up to him like this, he might as well relax himself. He slid a cancer-stick out of the pack before putting it away. His other hand was fishing for his lighter, until the bartender placed a glace of ice and a SLAM right in front of him. Bastilen nodded his head at the barman, before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and thumping his lighter on.

No light.

"Just today. Assigned on parole." noted the scarred soldier, grunting as he thumped the lighter a few more times. The frustration became visible on his face as he realized his little lighter was a little dead. "Fuhhhcbblesssph..." He started before sighing in defeat, and tossing the lighter in a near-by trash can.

The poor, man twirled the cigarette on his lips, before putting his forehead in his hand and handling his drink with the other. His rugged fingers popped the cap of the drink, before pouring it into the glass. Bastilen threw Lisa a short glance as he did this, as if he were expecting her to do a trick. Yet, he said nothing, simply resigning to pouring in half the can, before setting it down, and taking a sip.
 
Lisa chuckled as she saw his trouble with lighter. She digged her ciggaretes from the pocket and took her lighter from the half-full box. Two thumps and little fire was on the end of the lighter. She put it in front of him so he could light his death sticks.

"Wel welcome to the band of screw-ups then." Lisa said to him and meanwhile put a deathstick in her mouth. "I am Lisa by the way."
 
Band of screw-ups? Just what kind of unit did they send me to? though the man, as he looked back at the others.

Nevertheless, Bastilen leaned in towards the flame, hovering his cigarette over the flame as it licked the tip and set it a bright orange. He sucked in a bit of smoke before puffing it out the left side of his mouth. The soldier nodded his head gratefully before going back to his drink. His eyes, however, gave the woman a bit of suspicion, wondering why she was being so forward with the normally off-putting man.

"Nice to meet you, Lisa."
 
Sawyer noticed the guy sitting off by himself and looking at the other three sitting by him said "excuse me for a second." He then walked over to him and said "Hi, would you mind coming and sitting with my friends and I, no reason for you to be sitting all alone when we're here to drink ourselves blind."
 
John looked around at the man walking toward him, or rather, limping. He had a crutch to help with the cybernetic leg that he clearly wasn't used to walking on. Slowly, John inched off his barstool and dropped to the ground. He looked at the man, then changed his retinal enhancement's color. Partly because it looked cool when he was meeting new people, and partly because he couldn't see anything blue in the light of the bar.

He extended his arm and shook the stranger's hand. "Sounds good," he agreed, and drained his glass before leaving it on the counter. Turning back, he smiled and followed the man. It could've been worse. At boot camp, this one asshole took a look at his beard and punched him in the face. Didn't even go through the standard motions, just noticed him and punched him in the jaw as if that was a way of saying hello.

Sitting down at the table, he folded his arms and rested on them as he waited for the unnamed man to introduce himself and the other people he didn't know. So everyone, then.
 
RPG-D RPGfix
Back
Top