RP: NSS Acadia [Post Mission 1]: Shore Leave

Echo watched the shuttle touch down, then nodded to the Master Chief. He shrugged the case higher up onto his shoulder and walked across the street. He had no idea why he was doing this, but he liked the idea of actually doing something useful with himself for a change, outside the military at least.

When Echo reached the landing pad, he swung his case in and took a seat in the shuttle. Then, he played the waiting game.

Trey ambled over to the shuttle, stepping inside. it wasn't his concern if any of his squadmates came so he didn't wait to look for them, rather pulling a newspaper out of the seatback in front of him and opened it, reading the headlines, and whatnot. he waited for the shuttle to depart, figuring surprising his family would be a nice treat for them.

Viktor jogged across the street, pulling the tab to ignite the end of the cigarette. Even though he had found a preference for the pull-tab cigs, he had a lighter in his back pocket out of habit. You never knew when someone might need a light.

Upon arriving at the vehicle, he chose a seat near the door and a window, hoping to ease the situation for those that disliked smokers. He wasn't much of one for trivial arguments, despite his slight irritation with the IPG.

Talbain came walking out of the recruitment center still wearing his flight suit punching some buttons on his datajockey. looking up from the datapad after the chiefs announcement, "Roger-Wilco? I'll have to catch up. I'm having some equipment delivered to the recruiting station."
The ID-SOL gave a slow wave to the people already on the transport.

"Alright." Harrison nodded to the Master Chief and climbed aboard the shuttle, taking one last look at the recruitment center.

Lilly followed after the men gingerly, taking a seat as far away from Viktor as she could, next to Trey. The smell of cigarettes brought her back to some very unpleasant places that wreaked of the scent, and she had to cover her mouth and nose with her hands to block out the stench. She was trembling furiously, her stomach feeling sick as she began to go into a relapse. She had to find some kind of outlet, the nauseating feeling was getting stronger. She turned to Trey, who didn't seem to want to be bothered.

She spoke, shakily. "So, um, Mister Trey, you're going to see your family? What are they like? Do you have children?" The color had drained from her face, although you could hardly tell because its natural color was quite rosy to begin with. She clutched her chest with her arms to stop her trembling, unsuccessfully, and she seemed to be holding her breath as long as she could before taking another one. The overall impression couldn't have been very good, but Lilly forced her mind into another direction. She pictured Trey with young children, the hardened warrior playing with a little girl who shared his shock of blonde hair. It seemed to help, at least, with settling her stomach. She forced a nervous smile.

Anselm quickly climbed aboard and found himself a seat mostly equidistant from everyone else and saw his shirtless reflection in the mirror "I'm pretty sure Trey's family wouldn't take it kindly for me to show up in my shorts... I'll need to buy some clothes when we get there." To anyone else the marine might have been brooding.

Viktor wasn't blind, and he certainly wasn't stupid. He knew when someone hated smokers. So with a sigh, he stamped out the cigarette in the tiny ash tray. With his elbow propped on an arm rest, he put his forehead in his hand. So much for relaxing... Ugh, I need to quit anyways. My only vice, and it's put me on the road to lung cancer in the next couple years. Oi...

Ran looked forlornly at the recruitment center, with a grimace on his face as the result of being so close to a place like this. The only thing making it better were the sight of the new recruits.

"Ha ha, good luck, assholes."

"Fucking IPG, dragging our asses through the mud like this just to justify a bigger budget for themseles. Who the fuck puts flags on planets? Do they? Fuck no..." The Chief grumbled to himself, reaching to grab a cigarette from his pocket...which wasn't there. The fucking fuckers even had the gall to take his cancer sticks away. "What kind of sadistic police state are we living under where these over-glorified cops can take my oral fixation away?"

As a result of his outrage, he wasn't able to pay much attention to the rest of the crew members, and bumped into a few of them along the way as he made his way to the shuttle.

"This is bullshit."

"Ha ha...good luck, assholes," said the brick wall of a man as he walked past the throng of new recruits. Little attention was spared to his actual comment. More importantly was the patch on his left arm indicating his ship assignment: The NSS Acadia.

"That's me," thought Phaedra with a mental sigh. "But isn't it standard protocol to for the commanding officer to meet with new personnel?" She shrugged to herself. "I was getting sick of standing around anyway."

Phaedra grabbed her gear and hustled toward the awaiting shuttle, lugging a large duffel in the right hand and hefting a long black weapon case on the opposite shoulder. The woman boarded the shuttle as its engines powered up with a whine.

The shuttle was nearly full with passengers, and there were only a select few empty seats available. Phaedra glanced around the cabin; her right eye an icy blue, her left eye a cybernetic implant with a ruby-red glow. Her finely sculpted face was marred by a string of metal stitches traveling down the left side of her face and ending at her jaw. She spotted an empty seat behind a group of marines and quickly stowed her gear in one of the storage compartments near the back of the cabin. Phaedra strode up the aisle and settled into one of the empty seats, flicking her white braid out from behind her. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for the shuttle to launch.


(I'm assuming Phaedra has no idea that everyone is on leave, nor the amount of crap that they've been through from the IPG. I'm also assuming Ran made it in the shuttle by now...
The clueless newbie has arrived...and happens to be sitting next to the pissed off Chief...)

(Then you'll want to at least say "Ran" instead of "Ren". No offense meant, but I think Ren is a girl's name in Japan... BTW, wasn't Phaedra a Greek goddess or something?)

Harrison looked at the new arrival and her (unnerving) glowing eyes. He watched the new recruit settle into a seat behind his own, which was currently occupied by the duffel of equipment that had been so kindly returned to him by the crew of the freighter which had dropped them off at Golding. He turned to look again at the new arrival, whose nameplate read "Volkov". He shifted slightly in his seat.

"More new blood?" He inquired, settling his eyes on her face. "P1C William Harrison, FIRE1 Artillery Support pilot."

Phaedra caught eyes with that man in front of her and nodded.

"P3C Phaedra Volkov, Sniper and Reconnaissance."

"Is a Master Chief Fian Vel Steyr aboard? I was assigned under his command," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Standard protocol dicates that superiors inform newly arrived personnel of the current situation, as well as their position within the unit. I have yet to meet with the MC."


(Oops...fixed Ran's name. Yep, Phaedra is a name from Greek Mythology, although I mostly chose it for the meaning and how it sounds.)

Harrison's brow creased a bit, looking at P3C Volkov. "Phaedra- is it alright if I call you Phaedra?- we're on leave, so you don't have to be all tense and shit. Calm down, kick up your feet, have a couple drinks."

Regardless, he branched off into answering Phaedra's question. "Chief's over there. Guy with the black hair and cast." He returned to sitting forward in his seat, after saying something along the lines of "If you need help, just ask."

"Yeah. I'm going to see my family. They're a nice bunch." He answered, putting his paper down to look at the rosy-cheeked woman. "I have two young daughters. There a problem?" Trey finished with a question of his own, noting that the woman seemed upset by something or other, but he wasn't sure what.

Fian bent over the side of his seat to look down the aisle, and then sank back into the cushion, sighing. 'By the Maker, its the shore leave. Fine, you wanna play it that way? I'll play it that way.' He dusted his battle-wrinkled uniform, adjusted the rank bars and stowed the cigarette. Getting up, he performed an officer-school honed composed walk and then stopped just at Phaedra's feet. He kept a steely eye to eye contact, but his mind was running around her other features. 'Multiple military cybernetics, plenty of scar tissue but still ramrod straight. You would think someone that has been through something like that would be a lot more jaded and relaxed.'

"Thank you," she said to Harrison. She returned her arms to resting comfortably on her lap and observed the cabin.

"On leave? Of course that could explain the apparent lack of protocol," thought Phaedra.
"I will speak to the MC once we have arrived at our destination."

She had to admit that part of her was impatient; her first assignment and the crew was on shore leave? Phaedra needed to present a good first impression to the crew. She needed to prove that she could get the job done, which was not something Phaedra could do well in a social context. Not that she was eager to get killed, but Phaedra felt a driving urgency to somehow counteract her stained reputation.

She was a marine through and through; the Corps was everything. But she was awkward and inexperienced when it came to social situations. Spending the entirety of the five years since her creation was little time to become acquainted with the fine art of social nuance. Sighing inwardly, she reached her right hand up and stroked the scar on the left side of her face. Closing her eyes for just a moment, her mind wandered.

Darkness.

Screams.

Agony.

Failure.

Blame.

Phaedra physically jolted awake when she heard someone say her name. Her eyes widened when she realized the MC Harrison described earlier was standing in the aisle next to her, looking most displeased. She nearly jumped out of her seat when she stood and saluted.

"Private 3rd Class Phaedra Volkov reporting for duty, sir!"

Harrison cradled his face in one hand and massaged his temples. If one person was going to put a damper on his shore leave, there would be at least a 95% chance it would be Phaedra. The P1C stood from his seat and put a calm hand on Phaedra's shoulder. He shook his head at Phaedra's over-reaction, sending that "calm the hell down" feeling over to the P3C and her on-the-edge behavior.

"Shore leave, calm down." He softly reminded the newcomer before he returned to his seat.

Lilly blinked for a moment after Trey asked the question, at a loss. She didn't want to explain the whole situation, so she figured it would be better to just make up a simpler reason. "Oh, uh.. nothing. I just-" she searched for something, "-I just have trouble with planetary flight. It makes me a bit nausious. It just helps me to distract myself from it. I hope I'm not bothering you." Lilly's face suddenly felt hot, and her head kept on spinning. "It must be hard for you all, with you being a soldier." She felt something akin to embarassment creeping up on her.

Phaedra seemed to visibly relax, unconsciously blushing at her foolishness. She performed exactly as one should when in the presence of a superior, but this was the wrong environment. The marines were here to relax and unwind. This was not a military situation and codes of conduct were loosened.

"So much for presenting a good first impression..." thought Phaedra, noticing most of the passengers were glancing her direction.

"I am sorry if I have angered you, sir. I was only following proper protocol-" when the Master Chief cut her off.

Fian returned the salute, and then sheepishly waved it off. Every soldier has his own strengths and weaknesses, quirks and normality. It was a superior officer's duty to somehow bring all these qualities together to form a cohesive unit during battle, and to look after their individual needs after it. No biggie, this one simply needs someone to turn her on and off military mode. "Relax Private, while you aren't supposed to report in until three days later, I appreciate you joining up with us so soon to mix with your squad mates. We've been through a lot in the past two days, I'm sure some of them needs an ear to tell their side of the story to." Here the MC cocked his head to the general direction of the other marines. "Be a chum okay? And stick around. I'll be around if you have anything to ask..."

He then returned to his seat and re-sank into the cushions, closing his eyes for the long trip ahead "... Just not now, go bug the other Chiefs... Or Harrison."