Sigma
Inactive Member
Lewis Pasco Day, YE 35
The Greer family apartments had never been quite so packed. They occasionally entertained their neighbours but this was the first time that they had been visited by six (seven, if they counted Laura, who was staying with them) guests. At six family members, the Greers didn't have much space in the cramped apartments to begin with. It was a four-storey property and half of it was given over to their clinic. The first and second floors were for patients and business hours while the third was for the family and dining rooms. The top floor was where they slept in three rooms.
Drs. Greer shared one room, the three brothers another and while Laura and Bernhard's sister shared the last.
"A lot of people, you brought, brother," Markus Greer, a taller, sterner version of Bernhard shouted at his brother. In the din, it was the equivalent of a whisper.
"Mom and Dad invited, you mean!" Bernhard shouted back.
The Greers, Bernhard's parents to be exact, had invited the members of both the Cavaliers and the Minutemen for a Lewis Pasco party to thank them for taking care of Bernhard. They would have also invited Sergeant Rochester and his Renegades but Matthias Greer, that squad's medic, had begged them not to.
Finger food and a lot of alcohol had been laid out on the small dining table.
"Just hope that the Frothing Mouths leave us alone. Last time we invited the Masons over, they tried to get past Olaf downstairs. All this noise, they could try for a hold-up, Lewis Pasco or not," Markus shouted back. Olaf was the ID-SOL security guard they had hired to watch the clinic downstairs.
"Against these guys, we'd be turning them into customers!"
Meanwhile, Laura and the two eldest Greers were going around and doing introductions.
"Phaedra!" Laura shouted over the conversation, seeing her sergeant. The two doctors came over to her, smiling and welcoming her back.
Phaedra carefully pushed her way through the throng of people in the small apartment, ending up at Laura's location. She was greeted by Bernhard's parents, where they exchanged holiday greetings.
"Hello again," said Phaedra with a small smile.
"A pleasure to see you again, Phaedra!" Dr. Mrs. Hilde Greer shook Phaedra's hand warmly. Laura called her that so as to differentiate the three doctors in the Greer family.
"Thank you for hosting us in your home; it is a welcome change from the norm," said Phaedra.
"Our pleasure. The least we can do for the men and women looking after our sons and soon to-be daughter-in-law. Our home is your home for tonight" Dr. Mr. Rolf Greer replied, waving her to the food table.
They followed Laura to the next two. Wulfe and Zyv.
Hands inside his jacket's pockets, Wulfe nodded towards the Greers and then raised a hand in greeting. "Hey. Thanks for having us." He repeated after Phaedra. The marine was wearing a simple leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, jeans and some brown boots.
Zyv stiffened, legs moving together and back straightening as he turned to face the doctors and twisted his lips into something resembling a smile as he extended a hand while repeating the thanks as the others had.
The two doctors took the hands and shook them heartily. "Wulfe Stones, gets hurt a lot. One of my regular patients. Zyv Rakowski, sort of, kinda barely a medic for the Minutemen. Just gave him a medical kit and twenty minutes of lessons and he became a medic."
"Laura!" Dr. Mrs. Greer chided her, "Surely a more formal training course is necessary!"
"Probably but he hasn't gone to Bernhard for lessons," Laura replied mischievously
"In defense of our military I have been assigned for proper training." Zyv felt the need to interrupt the clone both to dismiss claims about the Marines training methods being inadequate and the insinuations of his incompetence.
"In the defence of the Imperium, do you need more training than what I, the Most Brilliant Medic in the Universe, have bestowed upon you?"
"We were rushed, Romero, and heaven forbid that I take up more time of the 4ths best medic." Zyv replied while looking to the Greers in the hopes that they would drag the clone away and greet others.
"Oh, you have a pair of ID-SOLs in your squad?" Dr. Mrs. Greer noticed Talbain and Stan, "Always have questions for ID-SOLs in the military about their outlets for aggression."
Laura waved bye-bye to the two. "Don't get too drunk!"
She brought them to Talbain and Stan.
Stan watched as the small group of people navigated their way over to Talbain and himself. Adopting a polite smile and extending a hand for the Drs. to shake, he said, "Hi, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for everything." He kept it short and sweet - after all, they were probably rather busy.
Talbain waited for Stan to introduce himself before offering his hand as well. "Talbain Ma'am, And if you can't find a proper outlet for aggression in the marines you aren't doing your job right."
"I'm Stan, by the way," said the second ID-SOL.
"Certainly, my good man," Dr. Mrs. Greer said, "But what happens when you leave? Just the other day, we had a patient who was beaten up by a drunken ID-SOL who used to be in the Marines. That's where my interest lies. Does the thrill and trauma of combat really make it so difficult for ID-SOLs to integrate into society afterwards? After all, non-military ID-SOLs don't have the same issue."
"Hilde, I've said it before. You make it sound like every military ID-SOL has an uncontrollable need to hit something. The man from last week was suffering from PTSD and it didn't help that the alcohol made the memories more vivid," Dr. Mr. Greer told his wife.
Laura just smiled and kept quiet until they stopped. "Sigismund Talbain is Phaedra's Number 2. He kills everything Phaedra points him at with a girlish giggle. Stan is an NMX War Hero. They've sent him medals for wounding our own side as often as theirs. And he gets fan mail from Nekos in Yamatai and the NMX."
The two doctors laughed.
Stan waited patiently for the discussion between Mr. & Mrs. Greer to subside. The conversation reminded him briefly of the fact that his father had been an ex-military ID-SOL. He considered volunteering the fact that the man had been a gentle person in his experience, but thought better of it. If they had wanted to know about that sort of thing, they would have asked. When Laura brought up his misadventures (and that was putting it lightly), Stan's mortification almost made his expression falter, but he managed to control himself.
"Laura, stop being mean to our guests," Bernhard said sternly, pulling the back of Laura's blouse as chastisement. "He doesn't really get fan mail from Nekos. As far as I know," he told his parents.
"Regardless, I can tell he's pretty popular," Dr. Mrs. Greer chuckled. "Help yourselves to the food and drinks. Enjoy yourselves," her husband added as Bernhard and Laura led them to the last guest currently present.
"Epic Sequence! These are Bernie's parents!" Laura shouted.
Eric stood farther behind everyone else and was silently waiting his turn. "Greetings! I haven't had quite the pleasure to meet you fine doctors. I'm new to the squad, and am still kind of learning how this whole 'being a marine' thing works." With a glance at his squad leader to make sure she wasn't looking he silently pointed, "Also, she kind of scares me."
"Phaedra? She's a darling. I wish Markus would consider her," Dr. Mrs. Greer replied, surprised that he thought Phaedra was scary.
"Markus doesn't want you match-making for him, Hilde. But fear of your superior officer is healthy. It makes you pay attention to her," Dr. Mr. Greer added.
"The one you should really be afraid of is Laura," Bernhard commented. Laura just grinned like a Cheshire cat.
"I'll remember that ma'am." He grinned and impulsively reached for his pouch of chewing tobacco. Remembering that it would be rude he instead opted for a polite smile, "So what kind of snacks do you have for us? It can't be worse than marine food that's for sure."
"See for yourself. We have another guest downstairs according to Olaf," Bernhard said, he grabbed Laura and they left to see who it was.
"More than I expected," he said to her, as they walked down the stairs. "They all heard you had a sister," Laura said.
Bernhard frowned. "Really?" Laura grinned again without a word.
Downstairs, they found the tall security guard waiting with another Nepleslian. "Yo Chiefy! Welcome to the party!" Laura shouted.
Leon Santiago smiled, "Just dropped by to pay my respects, Romero. Greer, looking good."
"For a nearly dead man, sir, you're looking pretty good too," Bernhard replied.
"I blame her!" he joked, pointing at Laura.
They went upstairs where they introduced Leon to Bernhard's family. The Chief was extremely polite and friendly to them and partook of the alcohol.
He didn't intend to stay long though. Senior NCOs never hung out with their subordinates on shore leave. It was good whiskey, though he wondered how much the Greers had spent for this shindig. He knew that Bernhard was always sending money back so it was clear that this was not normal for them. Then he spotted the other reason for coming here.
"Phaedra Volkov, I thought I recognized that ass," he whispered, smacking it as he approached her from behind.
Phaedra whirled around at the forceful smack, but her scowl quickly lessened when she realized it was Leon Santiago.
"Is that the only way you will ever greet me now? asked Phaedra with a raised eyebrow. The empty shot glass in her hand explained that she had a few drinks already, and was probably the only reason Leon was still on his feet.
"My, my, Phaedra. Is the alcohol getting to you? I expected to be floored," he teased.
"Or maybe you are the only one I will let get away with it..." she replied.
He smiled. "I'm going to be leaving soon. Enlisted get nervous when their seniors are around. Care to join me?" he said to her.
"That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Santiago," said Phaedra, returning her shot glass to the table.
As they were about to leave, a brick sailed through the window with a loud crash before crashing into the wall. "Dr. Greer, the Foaming Mouths are outside," Olaf's voice came over the PA the Greers had built into the apartment.
"How many?" Markus asked immediately.
"All of them, Doctor," Olaf replied stoically. The Foaming Mouths were one of the dominant street gangs in the area and it had dawned upon them that intimidating the Greers would result in the Greers working for them.
"Sascha, take care of Mom and Dad. Then call the cops. Mr. Santiago, Ms. Volkov, I'm sorry to have family business intrude. There's a fire escape ladder outside the kitchen window. Leads to a back alley facing another street so it should be safe. Bern, Matt, let's go," the eldest Greer commanded, opening a cabinet that held the family's meager arsenal. A shotgun and two pistols.
He passed a pistol to Sascha and kept one for himself. Rolf Greer took the shotgun and stood with his sons. "You boys aren't going without me." Markus looked at his father, clearly not happy but acquiescing.
Bernhard, Laura and Matthias had pulled out their Marine sidearms. "Sergeant, we'll be fine. There's only thirty of them. A couple shots and they'll probably run," Bernhard told Phaedra.
Phaedra wasted no time in drawing her sidearm and chambering a round. "Looks like you get to cover my ass, Leon."
"There goes my plan to buy you dinner and invite you to shoot things at the gun range with me. I suppose live targets will have to suffice instead of paper ones," he said to Phaedra. "Mr. and Mrs. Greer, no one attacks our family. This has just become our fight."
Wulfe drew his .45 pistol from his jacket as soon as he saw the Greers taking the guns from the cabinet. The marine stopped pigging out on the snack food as soon as he saw that something was up. He toggled the safety off from the weapon, then pulled the slide to check if it was loaded after inserting a new magazine inside. "How many hostiles?" He asked with cold efficiency.
Eric was quick to quaff down his meager amount of alcohol. He deftly put a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth and muttered, "Look like the fun has just begun." He rubbed a small saliva trail off his lips and pulled his handgun from the holster on his leg. The handgun he carried in his sweaty palms felt meager indeed compared to the hulking shotgun he had last used. He felt bitter about having to fight on his downtime, but on his mining homeworld, people were killed for a lot less than a broken window.
Talbain fumbled with his gloves for a moment to power them on before pulling his HAS free and readying it. "Last call for the snacks. Table's about to be a barricade."
Stan tensed subtly as he heard what was going on; it seemed like trouble followed the marines everywhere. On the plus side, everyone seemed to be on the ball. The Foaming Mouths were going to be in for a rather rude awakening, to say the very least. It reminded him of the gang turf wars he had participated in before he joined the military. Drawing his HHG and making sure it was ready, he said to Talbain, "If you need any help..." He left the question hang in the air unfinished.
Zyv had instinctively ducked as the window shattered, his hand going for his Zen “compact” even as he looked around for the source; brick through window, gang attack. The typical joys of life on Prime it would seem.
Switching the safety off he immediately moved to the others and awaited orders. Perhaps it was the alcohol but he was less hesitant to take voice on a matter he thought should be mentioned. ‘Sarge. Chief. If we got a fire-escape we might be able to double time around and see about flanking the targets.’ Rakowski finished.
"They're expecting the Greer family. Talbain, forget the table. Take two Marines and flank them with the fire escape. We are Marines, we attack! Rest of you Marines, get eyes on the bad guys from this floor and the one below. Mr. Greer, if your family shows up downstairs, that should distract them long enough for us to get into position. It looked pretty defensible as I walked up."
Markus glared at Leon next. He was too used to leading his siblings but didn't begrudge the professional. "Let's go," he said simply to the Greer men. The four of them and Laura went down, armed and ready for a fight.
"Double time, Marines. Get eyes on the bad guys!" Leon shouted.
Looking around to assess what weapons the marines had drawn Talbain assessed which two to take with him. "Ski and Stones, you're coming with me." He proceeded to pull his spare .45 magazines and toss one to each of the marines before making his way towards the kitchen.
- 'Am I Ski?' - Rakowski asked no one in particular as he caught the magazine flying at him and deftly pocketed it before responding in a manner more appropriate for a marine. - 'Roger that corporal.'- as he followed his temperary fire team to fulfil his orders.
Wulfe grabbed a hold of the magazine while it was still in the air, stashing one of them inside his pockets. The marine took off after Talbain, keeping his sidearm lowered in a two-handed grip. "Right behind you, corporal." He reported.
Stan nodded curtly and got into a favourable position on the floor he was currently on. He still felt some tension; he knew something was going to happen, and very soon. However, he didn't doubt for a second that the marines would come out on top - they always did. For now he tried to avoid drawing attention to himself whilst he checked the view outside.
Eric had listened to Laura and Leon while Wulfe led his impromptu assault out of the room. He let a thick stream of saliva out into an empty beer can as he passed, determined to not dirty up this house with his foul habit. Following closely behind Stan, "Do you see anything out there?" He swung his eyes across the room and looked for another adjacent window overlooking the street below. "I'll be over there. He checked the chamber on his .45 and duck walked to a window a few meters away. He didn't dare peek his head up, but was waiting for the first shots to be fired.
The Greers were downstairs with Olaf who carried his own shotgun and pistol. They could see the gangers milling around outside, waiting for their leaders to give them orders.
"Get into cover but be as visible as you can," Markus told them, "I'll talk to them."
He walked out the door, pistol in hand. "What do you want?"
"That's no way to greet someone on Lewis Pasco Day. But since you ask... We've given you enough time to think our offer over. And we see you've got a little party going on so we thought we'd come join in. Celebrate your acceptance," a woman wearing a leather jacket said. "Not going to be a problem, will it?"
Walking down the street with a plastic container under one arm a nice looking suit, Henry Morris could be seen. He was checking his watch as he was approaching the apartment block everyone had been telling him about. He'd dressed for the occasion. Red tie, white shirt, snappy and ironed bulletproof vest. When he saw the crowd standing outside the apartment, he darted around a corner and checked his mobile phone. He decided to give Raikowski a ring with his phone. He knew he'd be there at the party.
Feeling his pocket vibrate (it was bad manners to leave your ring tone on at a party after all) Zyv paused, it was tempting to ignore it but there were only a handful of people who would ring him and most of them were marines. A quick look confirmed it to be the case, his direct superior no less. Quickly calling out to Tailbain to inform him of the situation he quickly flipping the phone open and answered - 'Corporal? We got a situation.'
Beside him was the nervous, quiet figure of Alex Reams, who was just following the Corporal. The young Marine felt uncomfortable going by himself to the home of a man he barely knew but had been dragged out by the more senior Corporal Morris.
Making his way to the window Talbain checked to see if there were any gangers in sight before starting his way down the ladder. Reaching the bottom he checked again before waving down Zyv and Wulfe.
Wulfe gave a quick glance towards one of the windows before following after Talbain. The marine went down the fire ladder quickly, but trying to be as quiet as he could so they wouldn't attract the gang's attention. He quickly covered the approach which the corporal wasn't looking at as soon as he hit the floor, taking a crouching position.
Stan eyed the mob outside with a cool expression. Looking over his shoulder back at Eric, he said, "Yeah. A whole lot of gang members. They don't seem to be doing anything right now, though - I think they're just waiting for the head honcho to give them the word." His tone was steady and measured. Even though they were marines, a group of 30 hostiles weren't any laughing matter. The lack of any heavier weapons at their disposal was something that the ID-SOL was painfully aware of.
"You don't say." Henry replied to Zyv. "I'm around the corner. I've got armaments, tell the others." He then sighed into his phone. "This is what I get for bringing coleslaw to a party. Where are the others?"
- 'Roger Corporal. We're taking positions to repel an assault now.' - Zyv replied, choosing to ignore the mention of coleslaw as he signaled to Talbain that he had to report to the chief and moved quickly to find his superiors. - 'Chief, Sergeant. I have Corporal Morris on the phone, he's in the area.'- Rakowski reported as he offered the phone.
"Tell them I'm sorry for being late too." Henry added, peeking around the corner and making a head count. Twenty, thirty people. And all he had was a fully automatic machine pistol and some coleslaw.
Eric nodded at Stan's estimation of the force. He wasn't too concerned about the lack of firepower, hopefully this gang was a bunch of civvies who found out that guns increase your prowess somewhat. Either way, they weren't professionals and they should make easy pickings for the well trained marine force. He risked a glance over the window sill and spotted a ganger using his weapon as a crutch, barrel in the dirt and all. He flashed a thumbs up to Stan and his squad leader, letting them both know that he was ready if the party started.
Phaedra calmly found herself a firing position near one of the upper windows. While she wished she had a more powerful weapon than just her sidearm, it would have to do. She put her back to the wall by one of the windows and peeked at the street below; she mentally picked out her targets and waited for the right opportunity.
The Greer family apartments had never been quite so packed. They occasionally entertained their neighbours but this was the first time that they had been visited by six (seven, if they counted Laura, who was staying with them) guests. At six family members, the Greers didn't have much space in the cramped apartments to begin with. It was a four-storey property and half of it was given over to their clinic. The first and second floors were for patients and business hours while the third was for the family and dining rooms. The top floor was where they slept in three rooms.
Drs. Greer shared one room, the three brothers another and while Laura and Bernhard's sister shared the last.
"A lot of people, you brought, brother," Markus Greer, a taller, sterner version of Bernhard shouted at his brother. In the din, it was the equivalent of a whisper.
"Mom and Dad invited, you mean!" Bernhard shouted back.
The Greers, Bernhard's parents to be exact, had invited the members of both the Cavaliers and the Minutemen for a Lewis Pasco party to thank them for taking care of Bernhard. They would have also invited Sergeant Rochester and his Renegades but Matthias Greer, that squad's medic, had begged them not to.
Finger food and a lot of alcohol had been laid out on the small dining table.
"Just hope that the Frothing Mouths leave us alone. Last time we invited the Masons over, they tried to get past Olaf downstairs. All this noise, they could try for a hold-up, Lewis Pasco or not," Markus shouted back. Olaf was the ID-SOL security guard they had hired to watch the clinic downstairs.
"Against these guys, we'd be turning them into customers!"
Meanwhile, Laura and the two eldest Greers were going around and doing introductions.
"Phaedra!" Laura shouted over the conversation, seeing her sergeant. The two doctors came over to her, smiling and welcoming her back.
Phaedra carefully pushed her way through the throng of people in the small apartment, ending up at Laura's location. She was greeted by Bernhard's parents, where they exchanged holiday greetings.
"Hello again," said Phaedra with a small smile.
"A pleasure to see you again, Phaedra!" Dr. Mrs. Hilde Greer shook Phaedra's hand warmly. Laura called her that so as to differentiate the three doctors in the Greer family.
"Thank you for hosting us in your home; it is a welcome change from the norm," said Phaedra.
"Our pleasure. The least we can do for the men and women looking after our sons and soon to-be daughter-in-law. Our home is your home for tonight" Dr. Mr. Rolf Greer replied, waving her to the food table.
They followed Laura to the next two. Wulfe and Zyv.
Hands inside his jacket's pockets, Wulfe nodded towards the Greers and then raised a hand in greeting. "Hey. Thanks for having us." He repeated after Phaedra. The marine was wearing a simple leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, jeans and some brown boots.
Zyv stiffened, legs moving together and back straightening as he turned to face the doctors and twisted his lips into something resembling a smile as he extended a hand while repeating the thanks as the others had.
The two doctors took the hands and shook them heartily. "Wulfe Stones, gets hurt a lot. One of my regular patients. Zyv Rakowski, sort of, kinda barely a medic for the Minutemen. Just gave him a medical kit and twenty minutes of lessons and he became a medic."
"Laura!" Dr. Mrs. Greer chided her, "Surely a more formal training course is necessary!"
"Probably but he hasn't gone to Bernhard for lessons," Laura replied mischievously
"In defense of our military I have been assigned for proper training." Zyv felt the need to interrupt the clone both to dismiss claims about the Marines training methods being inadequate and the insinuations of his incompetence.
"In the defence of the Imperium, do you need more training than what I, the Most Brilliant Medic in the Universe, have bestowed upon you?"
"We were rushed, Romero, and heaven forbid that I take up more time of the 4ths best medic." Zyv replied while looking to the Greers in the hopes that they would drag the clone away and greet others.
"Oh, you have a pair of ID-SOLs in your squad?" Dr. Mrs. Greer noticed Talbain and Stan, "Always have questions for ID-SOLs in the military about their outlets for aggression."
Laura waved bye-bye to the two. "Don't get too drunk!"
She brought them to Talbain and Stan.
Stan watched as the small group of people navigated their way over to Talbain and himself. Adopting a polite smile and extending a hand for the Drs. to shake, he said, "Hi, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for everything." He kept it short and sweet - after all, they were probably rather busy.
Talbain waited for Stan to introduce himself before offering his hand as well. "Talbain Ma'am, And if you can't find a proper outlet for aggression in the marines you aren't doing your job right."
"I'm Stan, by the way," said the second ID-SOL.
"Certainly, my good man," Dr. Mrs. Greer said, "But what happens when you leave? Just the other day, we had a patient who was beaten up by a drunken ID-SOL who used to be in the Marines. That's where my interest lies. Does the thrill and trauma of combat really make it so difficult for ID-SOLs to integrate into society afterwards? After all, non-military ID-SOLs don't have the same issue."
"Hilde, I've said it before. You make it sound like every military ID-SOL has an uncontrollable need to hit something. The man from last week was suffering from PTSD and it didn't help that the alcohol made the memories more vivid," Dr. Mr. Greer told his wife.
Laura just smiled and kept quiet until they stopped. "Sigismund Talbain is Phaedra's Number 2. He kills everything Phaedra points him at with a girlish giggle. Stan is an NMX War Hero. They've sent him medals for wounding our own side as often as theirs. And he gets fan mail from Nekos in Yamatai and the NMX."
The two doctors laughed.
Stan waited patiently for the discussion between Mr. & Mrs. Greer to subside. The conversation reminded him briefly of the fact that his father had been an ex-military ID-SOL. He considered volunteering the fact that the man had been a gentle person in his experience, but thought better of it. If they had wanted to know about that sort of thing, they would have asked. When Laura brought up his misadventures (and that was putting it lightly), Stan's mortification almost made his expression falter, but he managed to control himself.
"Laura, stop being mean to our guests," Bernhard said sternly, pulling the back of Laura's blouse as chastisement. "He doesn't really get fan mail from Nekos. As far as I know," he told his parents.
"Regardless, I can tell he's pretty popular," Dr. Mrs. Greer chuckled. "Help yourselves to the food and drinks. Enjoy yourselves," her husband added as Bernhard and Laura led them to the last guest currently present.
"Epic Sequence! These are Bernie's parents!" Laura shouted.
Eric stood farther behind everyone else and was silently waiting his turn. "Greetings! I haven't had quite the pleasure to meet you fine doctors. I'm new to the squad, and am still kind of learning how this whole 'being a marine' thing works." With a glance at his squad leader to make sure she wasn't looking he silently pointed, "Also, she kind of scares me."
"Phaedra? She's a darling. I wish Markus would consider her," Dr. Mrs. Greer replied, surprised that he thought Phaedra was scary.
"Markus doesn't want you match-making for him, Hilde. But fear of your superior officer is healthy. It makes you pay attention to her," Dr. Mr. Greer added.
"The one you should really be afraid of is Laura," Bernhard commented. Laura just grinned like a Cheshire cat.
"I'll remember that ma'am." He grinned and impulsively reached for his pouch of chewing tobacco. Remembering that it would be rude he instead opted for a polite smile, "So what kind of snacks do you have for us? It can't be worse than marine food that's for sure."
"See for yourself. We have another guest downstairs according to Olaf," Bernhard said, he grabbed Laura and they left to see who it was.
"More than I expected," he said to her, as they walked down the stairs. "They all heard you had a sister," Laura said.
Bernhard frowned. "Really?" Laura grinned again without a word.
Downstairs, they found the tall security guard waiting with another Nepleslian. "Yo Chiefy! Welcome to the party!" Laura shouted.
Leon Santiago smiled, "Just dropped by to pay my respects, Romero. Greer, looking good."
"For a nearly dead man, sir, you're looking pretty good too," Bernhard replied.
"I blame her!" he joked, pointing at Laura.
They went upstairs where they introduced Leon to Bernhard's family. The Chief was extremely polite and friendly to them and partook of the alcohol.
He didn't intend to stay long though. Senior NCOs never hung out with their subordinates on shore leave. It was good whiskey, though he wondered how much the Greers had spent for this shindig. He knew that Bernhard was always sending money back so it was clear that this was not normal for them. Then he spotted the other reason for coming here.
"Phaedra Volkov, I thought I recognized that ass," he whispered, smacking it as he approached her from behind.
Phaedra whirled around at the forceful smack, but her scowl quickly lessened when she realized it was Leon Santiago.
"Is that the only way you will ever greet me now? asked Phaedra with a raised eyebrow. The empty shot glass in her hand explained that she had a few drinks already, and was probably the only reason Leon was still on his feet.
"My, my, Phaedra. Is the alcohol getting to you? I expected to be floored," he teased.
"Or maybe you are the only one I will let get away with it..." she replied.
He smiled. "I'm going to be leaving soon. Enlisted get nervous when their seniors are around. Care to join me?" he said to her.
"That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Santiago," said Phaedra, returning her shot glass to the table.
As they were about to leave, a brick sailed through the window with a loud crash before crashing into the wall. "Dr. Greer, the Foaming Mouths are outside," Olaf's voice came over the PA the Greers had built into the apartment.
"How many?" Markus asked immediately.
"All of them, Doctor," Olaf replied stoically. The Foaming Mouths were one of the dominant street gangs in the area and it had dawned upon them that intimidating the Greers would result in the Greers working for them.
"Sascha, take care of Mom and Dad. Then call the cops. Mr. Santiago, Ms. Volkov, I'm sorry to have family business intrude. There's a fire escape ladder outside the kitchen window. Leads to a back alley facing another street so it should be safe. Bern, Matt, let's go," the eldest Greer commanded, opening a cabinet that held the family's meager arsenal. A shotgun and two pistols.
He passed a pistol to Sascha and kept one for himself. Rolf Greer took the shotgun and stood with his sons. "You boys aren't going without me." Markus looked at his father, clearly not happy but acquiescing.
Bernhard, Laura and Matthias had pulled out their Marine sidearms. "Sergeant, we'll be fine. There's only thirty of them. A couple shots and they'll probably run," Bernhard told Phaedra.
Phaedra wasted no time in drawing her sidearm and chambering a round. "Looks like you get to cover my ass, Leon."
"There goes my plan to buy you dinner and invite you to shoot things at the gun range with me. I suppose live targets will have to suffice instead of paper ones," he said to Phaedra. "Mr. and Mrs. Greer, no one attacks our family. This has just become our fight."
Wulfe drew his .45 pistol from his jacket as soon as he saw the Greers taking the guns from the cabinet. The marine stopped pigging out on the snack food as soon as he saw that something was up. He toggled the safety off from the weapon, then pulled the slide to check if it was loaded after inserting a new magazine inside. "How many hostiles?" He asked with cold efficiency.
Eric was quick to quaff down his meager amount of alcohol. He deftly put a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth and muttered, "Look like the fun has just begun." He rubbed a small saliva trail off his lips and pulled his handgun from the holster on his leg. The handgun he carried in his sweaty palms felt meager indeed compared to the hulking shotgun he had last used. He felt bitter about having to fight on his downtime, but on his mining homeworld, people were killed for a lot less than a broken window.
Talbain fumbled with his gloves for a moment to power them on before pulling his HAS free and readying it. "Last call for the snacks. Table's about to be a barricade."
Stan tensed subtly as he heard what was going on; it seemed like trouble followed the marines everywhere. On the plus side, everyone seemed to be on the ball. The Foaming Mouths were going to be in for a rather rude awakening, to say the very least. It reminded him of the gang turf wars he had participated in before he joined the military. Drawing his HHG and making sure it was ready, he said to Talbain, "If you need any help..." He left the question hang in the air unfinished.
Zyv had instinctively ducked as the window shattered, his hand going for his Zen “compact” even as he looked around for the source; brick through window, gang attack. The typical joys of life on Prime it would seem.
Switching the safety off he immediately moved to the others and awaited orders. Perhaps it was the alcohol but he was less hesitant to take voice on a matter he thought should be mentioned. ‘Sarge. Chief. If we got a fire-escape we might be able to double time around and see about flanking the targets.’ Rakowski finished.
"They're expecting the Greer family. Talbain, forget the table. Take two Marines and flank them with the fire escape. We are Marines, we attack! Rest of you Marines, get eyes on the bad guys from this floor and the one below. Mr. Greer, if your family shows up downstairs, that should distract them long enough for us to get into position. It looked pretty defensible as I walked up."
Markus glared at Leon next. He was too used to leading his siblings but didn't begrudge the professional. "Let's go," he said simply to the Greer men. The four of them and Laura went down, armed and ready for a fight.
"Double time, Marines. Get eyes on the bad guys!" Leon shouted.
Looking around to assess what weapons the marines had drawn Talbain assessed which two to take with him. "Ski and Stones, you're coming with me." He proceeded to pull his spare .45 magazines and toss one to each of the marines before making his way towards the kitchen.
- 'Am I Ski?' - Rakowski asked no one in particular as he caught the magazine flying at him and deftly pocketed it before responding in a manner more appropriate for a marine. - 'Roger that corporal.'- as he followed his temperary fire team to fulfil his orders.
Wulfe grabbed a hold of the magazine while it was still in the air, stashing one of them inside his pockets. The marine took off after Talbain, keeping his sidearm lowered in a two-handed grip. "Right behind you, corporal." He reported.
Stan nodded curtly and got into a favourable position on the floor he was currently on. He still felt some tension; he knew something was going to happen, and very soon. However, he didn't doubt for a second that the marines would come out on top - they always did. For now he tried to avoid drawing attention to himself whilst he checked the view outside.
Eric had listened to Laura and Leon while Wulfe led his impromptu assault out of the room. He let a thick stream of saliva out into an empty beer can as he passed, determined to not dirty up this house with his foul habit. Following closely behind Stan, "Do you see anything out there?" He swung his eyes across the room and looked for another adjacent window overlooking the street below. "I'll be over there. He checked the chamber on his .45 and duck walked to a window a few meters away. He didn't dare peek his head up, but was waiting for the first shots to be fired.
The Greers were downstairs with Olaf who carried his own shotgun and pistol. They could see the gangers milling around outside, waiting for their leaders to give them orders.
"Get into cover but be as visible as you can," Markus told them, "I'll talk to them."
He walked out the door, pistol in hand. "What do you want?"
"That's no way to greet someone on Lewis Pasco Day. But since you ask... We've given you enough time to think our offer over. And we see you've got a little party going on so we thought we'd come join in. Celebrate your acceptance," a woman wearing a leather jacket said. "Not going to be a problem, will it?"
Walking down the street with a plastic container under one arm a nice looking suit, Henry Morris could be seen. He was checking his watch as he was approaching the apartment block everyone had been telling him about. He'd dressed for the occasion. Red tie, white shirt, snappy and ironed bulletproof vest. When he saw the crowd standing outside the apartment, he darted around a corner and checked his mobile phone. He decided to give Raikowski a ring with his phone. He knew he'd be there at the party.
Feeling his pocket vibrate (it was bad manners to leave your ring tone on at a party after all) Zyv paused, it was tempting to ignore it but there were only a handful of people who would ring him and most of them were marines. A quick look confirmed it to be the case, his direct superior no less. Quickly calling out to Tailbain to inform him of the situation he quickly flipping the phone open and answered - 'Corporal? We got a situation.'
Beside him was the nervous, quiet figure of Alex Reams, who was just following the Corporal. The young Marine felt uncomfortable going by himself to the home of a man he barely knew but had been dragged out by the more senior Corporal Morris.
Making his way to the window Talbain checked to see if there were any gangers in sight before starting his way down the ladder. Reaching the bottom he checked again before waving down Zyv and Wulfe.
Wulfe gave a quick glance towards one of the windows before following after Talbain. The marine went down the fire ladder quickly, but trying to be as quiet as he could so they wouldn't attract the gang's attention. He quickly covered the approach which the corporal wasn't looking at as soon as he hit the floor, taking a crouching position.
Stan eyed the mob outside with a cool expression. Looking over his shoulder back at Eric, he said, "Yeah. A whole lot of gang members. They don't seem to be doing anything right now, though - I think they're just waiting for the head honcho to give them the word." His tone was steady and measured. Even though they were marines, a group of 30 hostiles weren't any laughing matter. The lack of any heavier weapons at their disposal was something that the ID-SOL was painfully aware of.
"You don't say." Henry replied to Zyv. "I'm around the corner. I've got armaments, tell the others." He then sighed into his phone. "This is what I get for bringing coleslaw to a party. Where are the others?"
- 'Roger Corporal. We're taking positions to repel an assault now.' - Zyv replied, choosing to ignore the mention of coleslaw as he signaled to Talbain that he had to report to the chief and moved quickly to find his superiors. - 'Chief, Sergeant. I have Corporal Morris on the phone, he's in the area.'- Rakowski reported as he offered the phone.
"Tell them I'm sorry for being late too." Henry added, peeking around the corner and making a head count. Twenty, thirty people. And all he had was a fully automatic machine pistol and some coleslaw.
Eric nodded at Stan's estimation of the force. He wasn't too concerned about the lack of firepower, hopefully this gang was a bunch of civvies who found out that guns increase your prowess somewhat. Either way, they weren't professionals and they should make easy pickings for the well trained marine force. He risked a glance over the window sill and spotted a ganger using his weapon as a crutch, barrel in the dirt and all. He flashed a thumbs up to Stan and his squad leader, letting them both know that he was ready if the party started.
Phaedra calmly found herself a firing position near one of the upper windows. While she wished she had a more powerful weapon than just her sidearm, it would have to do. She put her back to the wall by one of the windows and peeked at the street below; she mentally picked out her targets and waited for the right opportunity.
