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Socarux
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 181
Founded: Feb 17, 2015
Ex-Nation

Base: Netherlands

Postby Socarux » Fri May 29, 2015 9:49 am

Patrick woke up at five kissed his sleeping childrens foreheads and arranged for some belongings to meet him at the base with Peter (one of his four secretaries, night shift) while he jogged 12 miles there with a huge backpack filled with stones. He panted lightly and said, "Been a while since I have done that, I am getting out of shape on land."

At six he had arrived at the outside of the bases grounds and traded bags with Peter. Peter gave him three bags, the first bag had his personal combat kit(guns, armour, machete, knife, uniform, and paperwork.) The second bag was filled mostly with personal belongings, pictures of the kids and wife, first aid kit, clothes, books, cigars, scotch, personal laptop and cell, and other miscellaneous items such as exercise gear and toiletries including a strait razor. The third bag was his work materials for his main job and a few copies of his will. The guards looked at him funny on the way in but since the dog smelled nothing they let him pass.

Half past six he unloaded his possessions and locked the bags to underneath his bunk, while the stuff no one would steal or that he would care for if stolen where placed in his section of the room. He thought to himself, "I am pulling my kids out of their schools, away from their home and friends. God I hope they dont hate me. I am doing this for their own good! I gotta get permission to move them on base. They will be safer here than out there, right? Either way no fricken alien will harm my kids, if I have to go ans fight another war and kill something else to do it... it will die... and I will get to see my kids grow up."

At six forty, Patrick headed out with a smalled gym bag carrying with him his flask, cell, a few personal items and his wallet that has a family picture in it. He stumbled upon a chapel, quickly prayed, and dropped a ten thousand euro donation into the collection box and a letter under the door explaining his situation about his children.

At 6:50, Patrick dresses in his wetsuit and 60lb weights to do go for his daily swim. He notes that there is seldom anyone in the area except for a janitor. He began to swim laps to officially start his day.

An hour later he showerd, got changed, and managed to get a map to the rest of the facility from them janitor and headed to the mess. He hungrily gathered and ate a plate half with bacon, half with sausage, some waffles, country fried steak and gravy, a plate of eggs, various fruit, scotch and milk, coffee, and orange juice. He ate so much that the food staff where afraid of his appetite and a bit angry that they had to make more food now that this crazy man ate an absurd amount of food. He was slightly and smuggly satisfied with their reaction, and left rubbing his stomach and drinking hot tea.

At 8:20, geared up and heading to the practice area. He drops of his paperwork at the officers quarters with his phone and bunk number. Concerning the situation about accommodation and requesting if he may use his own rifle in combat and his varius paperwork concerning insurance, college plans, funeral, and the such. He heads over to the course and does obstacle and target practice, he started off a bit awkwardly cause he was using. A gun that he wasnt used to, but after the second and third go he was for more proficient and was Clearing it at record time.

At half past nine he found a functional area and doubled back to get his gun from the room. He was surprised that between the woodshop and the r&d tech area he had found a usuable gunsmithing work area. He pulled out his self built monster that he called the Ajax model. #1. This gun has been a project for years and he always made improvements when possible. It is a 20 inch hexagonal barrel, .50cal ambidextrous bullpup with a paded, anti recoil spring butt. Adjustable iron sights that can be adjusted up to 1300 yards. The pistol grip is molded to the shape of his hands and has various options for tricks and trinkets. Though this rifle has a built in lazer pointer, all carbon fram and titanium metal parts, the barrel is internally suppressed and hs an option for water cooling, included with that is a gas recoil supression system and flash hider in one. This piston rifle alsi featured a recoil counter balance system. This was patricks master piece. Though it did have some drawbacks. The gun was only a little heavier than normal, though the ammunition was much heavier than what other rifles offer. Versitile rifle with many selectable fire options, had issues with price, and the fact that you have to make the replacement parts. It also required routine maintenance. The barrel also has a tendacy to overheat if you fire consrantly for three minutes. Herstal rejected this rifle only for the reason that it was expensive to produce, and nations would rather buy three or six of a standard assult rifle over this.
"Ajax, I trust you. You are one of the legacies I leave my children. I know that with more work, you can be taken out of prototype stage and togther destroy this threat to return earth to its alien free self.
Last edited by Socarux on Sat May 30, 2015 1:11 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Pan Asian Amercian Coalition
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1209
Founded: Jun 01, 2013
Democratic Socialists

Postby Pan Asian Amercian Coalition » Fri May 29, 2015 10:27 pm

Night 1
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base

Recruit Edgar-Allen Montgomery

Finishing with a meal that could only be accurately described as American-size, Edgar slowly rose from his seat in the dining hall with intent to explore his new home away from home. Quietly humming the tune to his favorite song, he slowly meandered about the base, familiarizing himself with its bleach-white lights and reinforced concrete. The architecture was spartan, simple. Not an inch of space was wasted or distracted from military efficiency. Guiding lines scattered about the walls and intermittent maps prevented him from ever getting too lost, but it was a constant surprise how much area was available. One of the benefits of building underground, huh?

Following the blood-red line labeled 'Armory' away from the navy blue Science Labs and hazard-orange Engineering Bay, Edgar found a found a curious facility: it was labeled the MILES facility. In design it was reminiscent of a firing range and a laser tag arena, or at least the lobby area where he was standing. There were LED signs proudly displaying error messages. He decided to wait and see what this place was, maybe meet one of his future comrades.
"Scientia viam libertatis "...................................................................................... ///I take my realism with cream and sugar///
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Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33959
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Sat May 30, 2015 5:55 pm

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base Command Center

The graveyard shift was, contrary to most people's expectations, not a dumping ground for slackers. ATHENA was good at what they did, and the staff took pride in it. Well, when their responsibilities didn't suffer technical difficulties. The command center watch crew planned on rubbing it in for the training techs later; in the name of good fun, of course.

But even they couldn't be everywhere at once, which was why they had information-sharing quietly set up with certain subsets of governments around the globe. It was one of these channels that now sent an alert to one of the many flat-panel monitors lining the walls. The monitor's frame pulsed with a gentle amber light Dr. Lightheart had chosen to draw the watchstanders' attention.

"Signal picked up from Arirang 4A," the tech covering East Asia called out, referring to one of two South Korean spy satellites. "Picking up distortion patterns entering the atmosphere above the Bay of Korea."

"Enhance the image and confirm the North Koreans haven't launched on the South," the watch commander replied quickly and crisply.

"Negative, the pattern is a larger object above 80,000 kilos, not matching mass or speed parameters for known North Korean missiles. No sign of missile ignitions from North Korea; and - sir, it's heading in a southwest direction toward eastern China." Clacks on the keyboard sounded like automatic fire in miniature.

In the three seconds it took for the tech to bring up the object's flight path on screen, the blinking red dot representing it had gone from the middle of the Yellow Sea to Beijing.

"This is a likely incursion - "

"Get vision of that now," the watch commander cut the tech off.

"Now" turned out to be half an hour later, when the main screen showed satellite imagery of China World Trade Center Tower III. Multiple figures in People's Armed Police uniforms could be seen surrounding the complex, with six of them carrying a large, bulky object into the building.

The watch commander reached for the intercom switch.

"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

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Brusia
Senator
 
Posts: 4341
Founded: May 22, 2007
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Sat May 30, 2015 7:12 pm

Upon hearing his name in the alert issued over the intercomm, Dr. Gordon quickly stopped what he was doing, took off his lab coat and put on his officer's coat, then headed quickly to the armory to get his equipment before heading to the hanger. He grabbed the light armor suit from his locker, along with his kit which contained some medical supplies, supplies for disarming bombs, and the usual officer goodies (such as the trusty laser designator used to call in airstrikes). From the weapons locker he decided to grab the weapons he was most familiar with and picked up an ACR and a Colt M45 CQB. He also grabbed a silencer for the ACR before heading out of the room.

Once outside a young Corporal from the watch crew stood at attention and saluted him. "Lieutenant" he said "I was sent here to brief you on the current situation."

Gordon hastily returned the salute and continued heading towards the hanger, motioning for the Corporal to follow him "Alright, tell me what we know..."

On the walk to the hanger the Corporal informed Gordon about the situation that was developing in Beijing and gave Gordon a tablet containing the blueprints of the China World Trade Center Tower III as well as a map of the surrounding area. When the two arrived at the hanger, Gordon saw that it was empty and said to the Corporal "I can brief the rest of the team when they arrive. You may return to your post." The Corporal simply nodded and saluted before walking away.

Gordon entered the hanger, stood in front of the V-44 and waited for the rest of team to arrive.

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Vacif
Senator
 
Posts: 4635
Founded: Mar 22, 2015
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Vacif » Sat May 30, 2015 7:19 pm

Tiltjuice wrote:Oosterscheldekering Dam Base Command Center

The graveyard shift was, contrary to most people's expectations, not a dumping ground for slackers. ATHENA was good at what they did, and the staff took pride in it. Well, when their responsibilities didn't suffer technical difficulties. The command center watch crew planned on rubbing it in for the training techs later; in the name of good fun, of course.

But even they couldn't be everywhere at once, which was why they had information-sharing quietly set up with certain subsets of governments around the globe. It was one of these channels that now sent an alert to one of the many flat-panel monitors lining the walls. The monitor's frame pulsed with a gentle amber light Dr. Lightheart had chosen to draw the watchstanders' attention.

"Signal picked up from Arirang 4A," the tech covering East Asia called out, referring to one of two South Korean spy satellites. "Picking up distortion patterns entering the atmosphere above the Bay of Korea."

"Enhance the image and confirm the North Koreans haven't launched on the South," the watch commander replied quickly and crisply.

"Negative, the pattern is a larger object above 80,000 kilos, not matching mass or speed parameters for known North Korean missiles. No sign of missile ignitions from North Korea; and - sir, it's heading in a southwest direction toward eastern China." Clacks on the keyboard sounded like automatic fire in miniature.

In the three seconds it took for the tech to bring up the object's flight path on screen, the blinking red dot representing it had gone from the middle of the Yellow Sea to Beijing.

"This is a likely incursion - "

"Get vision of that now," the watch commander cut the tech off.

"Now" turned out to be half an hour later, when the main screen showed satellite imagery of China World Trade Center Tower III. Multiple figures in People's Armed Police uniforms could be seen surrounding the complex, with six of them carrying a large, bulky object into the building.

The watch commander reached for the intercom switch.

"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."


'How convenient...' thought Vince. He was right outside the men's barracks. Moving with a purpose, he pushed open the door and went straight for his locker. Opening the locker, he strapped on each piece of equipment with speed and precision, like he'd practiced hundreds of times as a soldier. His locker already had his guns, and ammunition slotted into place, so he didn't have to worry about grabbing ammo. Pulling the ACR out of it's socket, he was armed to the teeth, and good to go. Closing the locker door with the back of his boot he marched down the halls of the hidden Dam base into the hangar. A Glock knife sheathed on his shoulder, grenades, and magazines readily accessible for his 2 HK 45's and his ACR 6.8. He was satisfied that he'd be ready. Vince turned the corner and marched into the hangar, he snapped off a salute to the lieutenant waiting for the rest of the team, and identified himself. "Private first class Vince Farkas, reporting for duty." He said crisply.
Last edited by Vacif on Sun May 31, 2015 4:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Bentus
Senator
 
Posts: 3883
Founded: Dec 18, 2013
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Bentus » Sun May 31, 2015 3:45 am

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Women’s Barracks
Emilie Girard



Shrugging off the oppressive weight of the Mediterranean Sun, the Dixmude tore its way through the waves – a finely crafted blade of French naval might. The deck of the Mistral class Amphibious Assault Ship was a hive of activity as crewmen darted around the flat surface like a colony of ants, hastily fuelling the assortment of Tigre combat helicopters and NH90s waiting eagerly on the six landing sites. Fuel lines snaked along the ground while last-minute armaments were wheeled to waiting craft. The air around the French warship was filled with the sounds of the mobilisation and the radio frequencies of pilots and command running through the final pre-flight lists.

It was no calmer below-decks. The Dixmude had been waiting for the orders to deploy for weeks as the situation in Egypt continuously deteriorated, and now that Operation Liberty’s Rain had been green-lit, its crew were itching to make their mark. Narrow ship corridors were clogged with fully-geared soldiers making their way above decks, while the hangar deck was saturated with the French voices as last-minute briefings and up-to-the-moment intel were passed on to squad leaders. Thierry found himself glancing around the large open space, his eyes running over waiting helicopters and the ocean of green and brown uniforms.

Excusez-moi. Pardon.” He weaved his way through the crowds, fully aware of the time to deployment steadily ticking away. Suddenly he found his quarry, and his concerned expression was banished by a wide grin. “Hé! Emilie!”

The woman turned around in time to cry out before being almost barrelled over. She laughed as Thierry embraced her, but elbowed him forcefully in the stomach. “Thierry, ça suffit!” Emilie tried to keep her face stern as befitted the situation, but found that it was a losing battle. “I’m headed off in two minutes for crying out loud.” Eventually, she managed to extract herself from his arms – but not without a certain disappointment.

Emilie turned to see the man pulling an exaggerated frown. “Arrête, come on Thierry, this is meant to be serious. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He waved a hand dismissively.

Ouais, ouais. You know the flight-deck’s too clogged up for me to do anything for a few hours.” He smirked mischievously, Emilie feeling not a little bit flattered – and relieved – at his hunting her down. Thierry’s face suddenly became more serious, his eyes looking into hers. “How are you feeling?”

Emilie smiled weakly. “Honnêtement? Je suis terrifiée.” She’d received notification of her squad being deployed in the middle of the night, and hadn’t had a chance to see Thierry amidst all the preparations. She’d eventually managed to resign herself to not being able to talk to him until they got back, but found herself counting down the hours in apprehension.

Hé, hé…” He said, clasping her hands in his. “It’s just a little show of force, they’ll see French choppers coming over the horizon and a couple of mean-green killing machines” Emilie laughed at that, wondering if she shouldn’t hit him for calling her green, “and duck for cover.” Thierry was right of course. Things were bad, sure, but they were just being sent in for insurance and to dissuade any attack on the canal. The rebels surely wouldn’t be so stupid as to attempt to mount an attack with the amount of foreign troops being moved in.
Ouais, tu as raison.” Emilie managed, already picturing the celebrations awaiting the returning soldiers.

Thierry smirked, “Course I’m right: c’est moi!” At that, Emilie really did hit him in the shoulder, the powerful blow from the petite woman causing him to wince and rub the joint. “Ok, ok – got it, modesty.” A moment of silence stretched out between the two, broken when a final call rang out on the intercom. Emilie opened her mouth to speak, but found a knot in her throat: unable to get their conversation from the day before out of her head. Thierry glanced over Emilie’s shoulder at the rest of her squad starting to gather their gear as the lift descended from the flight deck, before smiling with understanding. “I promise, when you get back we’ll celebrate properly, non?”

Emilie looked up teasingly. “With wine?” She asked with a healthy dose of scepticism.

Thierry whistled in mock shock, his grin never fading. “Pour vous, mademoiselle? N’importe quoi.

Emilie grinned in victory. “I’ll hold you to it.” She bent down to pick up her bag and slung it effortlessly over her shoulder, but when she stood back up she felt Thierry press himself against her. The touch of his lips paralysed her, and when Thierry pulled away, Emilie had to quash a desire to pull him back.

“Je t’aime.” He said simply, his eyes locking with hers.

Emilie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the impatient shout of her lead. Instead she looked back at Thierry, while starting to half-walk, half-jog towards the held-up elevator. “Tomorrow, ok? And it better be special, else there’ll be hell to pay!”

Thierry laughed as the lift started to carry Emilie away. “J’ai signé un pacte avec le diable, elle-meme.” She grinned back at him, blowing a final kiss before disappearing onto the deck above.


The blaring of the alarm thrust Emilie back into the land of the living. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the bunk above her as the wail of her clock drilled its way into her skull. The woman glanced rapidly around, her face coated in a cold sweat as she hastily flopped her arm in search of the snooze button. Eventually she felt the click of success and banished the unbearable drone – allowing silence to once again reign in her section of the barracks.

She lay still for a few moments, refusing to vacate the comfort of her sheets as her mind swiftly caught up with where she was. With a deep sigh, Emilie forced herself up into a sitting position, swinging her bare legs over the side of her bed. She sunk her head into her hands, rubbing at her tired face as she simply allowed herself to breathe – the pounding of her heart gradually subsiding. When she looked back up, a grimace marred her face and she considered grabbing another bottle of liquor from the stash in her bag. But no, it was too early even for her. With a final admission that the day wouldn’t wait for her to collect her thoughts, and a realisation that she would most likely get nothing done if she allowed herself to in any case, Emilie forced herself to her feet. She quickly punched in the code to her locker, and grabbed her set of gym clothes before heading off to the bathroom.


Emilie panted as beads of sweat ran down her face – each impact of her feet on the treadmill pounding loudly as she pushed herself through the painful exertion. She was sprinting as hard as she could, running as quickly as her legs could carry her. The muscles in her calves were screaming in agony from the effort, and the mind-numbing activity flooded her body with endorphins. She tried to press her tired limbs even harder, satisfied that the memory of her dream from the night before was for the moment banished from her mind.

A beep sounded from the machine, signalling that she’d reached her target for the day. With a quick push of a button, Emilie felt the conveyor gradually start to slow – her mad sprint devolving into a jog, and then a calm cool-down walk. She was breathing heavily, her lungs still working hard to replenish the oxygen debt of her lactic acid-filled muscles. She smiled as she glanced down at the timer on the treadmill’s dash, satisfied with her progress – especially considering that she still felt the residual effects of jet lag dragging at her physique. The woman grabbed the towel on the armrest, brushing away some of the sweat from her face as she worked to finish her cool-down, her stomach growling quietly as she considered the prospect of breakfast.
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Pan Asian Amercian Coalition
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1209
Founded: Jun 01, 2013
Democratic Socialists

Postby Pan Asian Amercian Coalition » Sun May 31, 2015 12:48 pm

Night 1
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base

Recruit Edgar-Allen Montgomery

"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

Shit. Ten minutes. The sound of boots slamming against the concrete echoed throughout the halls as Edgar dashed to the armory from the MILES waiting bay. During his brief wait in the bay, he had to found out that he took the most circuitous route from the barracks to the MILES arena. Luckily, the Armory was right next to the barracks, so he didn't have to run far. It was a bit of a shame be not be able to see what exactly the MILES did, but he would find out if he got back from the mission in one piece.

Stopping for a quick breath in the doorway of the men's barracks, Edgar surveyed the long line of personal lockers between deep drags of Ooster's dry, reclaimed air. Seven mintues. He sauntered over to his locker and threw it open and quickly, but purposefully got into his battle dress. His ballistic vest and the various knee and elbow pads went on next, followed by his helmet and assault pack. Next, he donned all of the various slings and pouches necessary from him to carry all of his ordinance, which he would have to check out of the armory. Maybe it was unjust paranoia, but letting every Tom, Dick and Arytom play with hand grenades and AT missiles seemed like a bad idea.

Not satisfied with the prospect of just being loaded to the gills with just explosives, he slid his MK-23 into his thigh holster as he reached in to recover his Italian made AX-160. Magazines filled their spot on his assault vest, each loaded with armor-piercing ammo. For good luck. He made mental note to visit the quartermaster once he returned, as his rifle was in dire need of a good 'pimping up'.

Four minutes. Edgar, now weigh down with kit, hastily marched to the armory to get his precious high explosives. Edgar was chosen for his skill behind an anti-tank system, but that didn't mean his love for explosives was limited to the self-propelled. Sugar daddy-quatermasters gave him everything he needed to fulfilled his demolition addiction; Various kinds of hand grenades, ranging from flash-bangs to incendiaries, some C4, and a few claymore mines for good measure. Four grenades, two mines, and half a kilo of good 'ol comp 4 all found their place in his assault kit. Ok, this shit is getting heavy. Lighter than the rucksacks back in the Guard though. After a few minutes, he was presented with his SMAW system, his magic wand to make bad things disappear. He had trained with these in the National Guard, and found that their insensitive fuzes and light ammo made them perfect for his unorthodox methods. This particular launcher was the one Edgar had trained with, and it was very precious to him, complete with a little hand stenciled Oogie-Boogie next to the sights.

He glanced at his watch as the rocket launcher and three tubes of HEDP ammo were slung over his back. Two minutes.

"DAMN!" he shouted in surprise. He quickly thanked the sugar-daddies and made his way to the almost nextdoor hanger. Edgar was used to carrying a lot of gear, but his heavy breakfast turned out to be a bad idea in hindsight.

Marching to the hanger with forty-five seconds to spare, Edgar walked over to V-44 and faced his officer. He snapped to attention and gave the Lieutenant a crisp salute.

"Recruit Allen-Montgomery present, sir!" he bellowed with a proud, militaristic hint in his voice.
Last edited by Pan Asian Amercian Coalition on Sun May 31, 2015 1:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Scientia viam libertatis "...................................................................................... ///I take my realism with cream and sugar///
MT/Near Future. Mechs, Railguns, Jet VTOLs, Etc.
Factbook under construction. Nat'l Anthem
Humanist Demi-Socialist Technocractic Militant Democracy. Quite a mouthfull, ain't it?
The End of Oil.------Tank otaku. Panzer is my passion!
XCOM Alphabet
Rupudska wrote:
Pan Asian Amercian Coalition wrote:Nice to see that this is back.


You are impressively slow.

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Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16285
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Sun May 31, 2015 1:17 pm

Wolfram, Rec Lounge
I heard the intercom pop on and several voices get called out, I half expected my name to be called out as well but it wasn't, 'I suppose I should get out of the 'I'm gonna be deployed once a week' mentality and into the hurry up and wait one.' I had finished my workout routine some time ago and was now sitting in the Rec Lounge my full BDU on, sans any primary, just my knife and .45, he was currently watching soccer on the TV, granted it was better than nothing but it still wasn't hockey, or curling, I noticed an older looking man walk into the lounge and from the pin on his collar I deduced that the man was Ooster's chaplain, he grabbed a small meal and left, leaving myself and a few other in the lounge, I thought of my experiences with religious people, I had good memories with people from my unit who were religious, though a few of them had lost their life to religious extremists as well, a few religious policies were also asinine, like wearing two differing types of cloth being a sin, that one actually made me chuckle at the stupidity of it, I turned back to the TV and watched as Belgium got their asses kicked by Germany, I snorted at the irony.
Last edited by Anowa on Sun May 31, 2015 1:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Camicon
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14376
Founded: Aug 26, 2010
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Camicon » Sun May 31, 2015 2:29 pm

Chloe Hath
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base

"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

Chloe had been preparing herself to sleep, after the MILES simulation had gone on the fritz. She knew that her name would had to have come up in rotation eventually, but she hadn't expected it to be on the first night here. Reasoning that she would have an opportunity to catch some shuteye on the flight to where it was they would be going, Chloe jumped out of her bed and exited the women's dormitories at a brisk jog, heading for the armoury.

Arriving at her destination a minute later, shaking the last vestiges of tiredness from her head, Chloe moved to equip herself with quick and practised precision. Stripping out of her pajamas, she wasted no time slipping into her combat suit, pulling tight the various buckles and straps that would keep her equipment and ammo pouches in place. She holstered her HK 45T, slung her 416C about her body, and finished by jamming a combat knife into her boot sheath. Finally she strapped on the few pieces of hard-armour her suit included: a pair of shoulder and elbow guards, knee pads, and mid-section plates for front and back. It offered very little protection compared to that of front-line infantry, but if she ever found herself pinned on the front lines then the mission was probably FUBAR, in which case a little extra armour would do very little for her. Flipping her hood up about her face, leaving the armoured goggles to hang below her chin, Chloe left the armoury with a little over four minutes left to make it to the hangar.

"Sergeant Hath, reporting in," she said to whom she assumed was Lieutenant Gordon, standing next to their V-44 transport. A few other soldiers arrived in short order; it wouldn't be long before the entire team was assembled.
Last edited by Camicon on Fri Jun 05, 2015 11:07 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33959
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Sun May 31, 2015 4:15 pm

Tine Lorenzen
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base


"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

Tine sat up in time to see Chloe departing. Throwing off the blankets, she swung her legs out, grimacing slightly at the chill of the floor on her feet. Allowing herself a yawn as she stood, she followed the Canadian's lead. The armory was sprawling, but she had no trouble finding her locker. Stuffing her hastily folded sweatpants and shirt inside, she threw on her own gear, making haste slowly. The body armor and webbing she secured tightly, making sure her extra magazines were within easy reach. The extended gauntlets, with their forearm-elbow-shoulder guards, clanked as she pulled on the gear, but her HK 45T, tazer and heat sensor slid smoothly into their holsters on her belt. Finishing up by slinging her G36C over her shoulder and resting her goggles on her forehead, she jogged down to the hangar a minute behind Chloe.

"Sergeant Lorenzen present," she said to the man with lieutenant's bars facing them, with his back to the V-44.

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Generailia
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Ex-Nation

Postby Generailia » Sun May 31, 2015 9:16 pm

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Recruit Chris Ackermann


Chris woke up slowly some time before the intercom went off. He sat up slowly and as he rubbed his eyes sluggishly he thought. Fuck..I hardly earned any damn sleep. Well..I feel a little less shitty then I did awhile ago. I should probably get some more fucking sleep. Chris then laid back down in his head yet shortly afterwards the intercom went off which of course surprised Chris and destroyed any progress he might have done while he was laying down when he heard his name called.

Chris then got up quickly as he thought. So fucking soon?! I just got off one damn mission and now I go on another?! Not only that but with ten fucking minutes to get there! Damn it! Chris then looked around for his locker and after some frantic searching he was able to find it and made sure to put on his boots and other clothing before he started putting on his armor and once he had his armor on his equipment followed. Then once he had his equipment on he shoved his HK-45T into a holster at his side and quickly grabbed his customized ARX-160 and it's sling as he began to put it on while he was running through the hall towards the hanger as fast as his legs would allow him to go.

When Chris arrived he quickly finished putting on the sling and once the ARX lay in front of him with the sling hanging it up he gave a salute to the person who he assumed to be his commander and said softly while he did his best to keep himself awake. "Recruit Chris Ackermann reporting in." He then let out a yawn after he finished as he felt that his body was in a large amount of protest over his decision but he was thankful that he was far more alert then he was when he came back from his previous mission. He felt a wave of fear pass over him yet it was quickly over come with fury as he not only felt a need to prove that he was more useful then he was in his last mission but also a need for vengeance for the wounded the squad he was in before took to complete the mission. Both of the emotions and their change were clearly visible on his face as the rage he felt over-powered his previous feelings of exhaustion.
Last edited by Generailia on Sun May 31, 2015 9:35 pm, edited 6 times in total.

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Anowa
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Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Sun May 31, 2015 11:07 pm

Quartermaster Murphy
I wasn't happy, Not fucking happy, I had spent the last 3 hours figuring out who took what and filling out the signout sheet, then hanging said sheet next to the door, where it was in the first place, and set to work filling out a requisition form for a rifle Arto.. Arty.. whatever-the-fuck, decided to trash when some others, whom didn't even have the common fucking courtesy to say hello, burst in and took some more shit, without signing it out, how the fuck can I do my job when I don't know if we need something replaced or not, I can just hear their grovelling now, I mean Jesus H. Fuck, what'll we do when we only have 2 rifles and 12 people who need a fucking gun?
My blood boiled as I stood, walking out of the armory I took the signout sheet, turned the lights off, locked the door and hung the sheet on the outside of the door and left a note, 'this door isn't opening until everything that left this armory is accounted for. if you have an issue either 1. talk to Commander Pier, or 2. shove it." I then began walking towards the good Commanders office and pounded on the door, "requesting permission to speak to you, sir."

(OOC: to clarify the door is locked after everyone gets what they need for the current mission.)

Dr. Chakwas
Glancing at the two most recent additions to the med-bay I shook my head, dumbasses, I looked at the Czech one, stupid bastard ran straight into an open area, withing close range of hostiles, and the other tried to grab him, when they weren't paying any attention, they thought he was dead for god sake, he looked at the nigh comatose Herman, poor kid took a plasma bolt to the chest straight from a blue, poor bastard hadn't even fully turned the corner, he had barely survived, his plate carrier was burnt straight through and the skin was, well.. crispy, a few globs made contact with his face and legs he would have nasty scarring, he may even be discharged, he sighed and looked at the other two in the bay. "Dumbasses." he turned and left to go get a cup of coffee, he swore he heard the quartermaster yelling from the other side of the base.
Last edited by Anowa on Sun May 31, 2015 11:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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An Intro to Anowa
United States of Conner wrote:STOP TRYING TO EAT PEOPLE
I'M FUCKING SERIOUS
GODDAMMIT

Anowa wrote:
Serah wrote:He continued to fight, humping from person to person, either cutting or obliterating altogether.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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Altito Asmoro
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Ex-Nation

Postby Altito Asmoro » Mon Jun 01, 2015 7:56 pm

Lance Corporal Chen
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base


"Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

Lei was near the locker, sat at one of the bench inside the locker room as he pondering on the next mission where he will be assigned when he heard of the announcement. Immediately, he went to the armory to selected his weapons, and his body armor. He picked up the FN Mk. 48 and HK Mk 23 for his sidearm, and after that he went to the hangar, walked faster to there.

"Lance Corporal Chen, reporting for duty," said Lei when he arrived at the hangar.
Last edited by Altito Asmoro on Mon Jun 01, 2015 7:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Altito Asmoro wrote:You people can call me...AA. Or Alt.
Or Tito.

I'm calling you "non-aligned comrade."

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Tiltjuice
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Mon Jun 01, 2015 9:10 pm

Anowa wrote:-snip-


"Enter," came the familiar voice of the base CO.

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Anowa
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Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Mon Jun 01, 2015 9:40 pm

Tiltjuice wrote:
Anowa wrote:-snip-


"Enter," came the familiar voice of the base CO.

Murphy
I opened the door barely restraining my anger, I slammed the door behind me perhaps a bit too hard, I spoke through semi-gritted teeth, "Commander, I'd like to file a complaint about the actions of several soldiers on station." inside my head I was scanning the man trying to get a gauge on his feelings, the speech he gave the newbies was introductory, and half of them weren't new in the business of war, so he was wondering where their training had gone, and why the speech was even needed, "They seem to be unaware that if the weaponry in the armory goes missing and we can't keep track of it that eventually we'll have seven soldiers carrying ammo while only one has a rifle, the last time a situation like that happened was during Stalingrad nearly 80 years ago. I don't know about you Sir but I think we've advanced a bit since 1943, it physically causes me pain to even think that this base has Tier 1 operatives in it who can't sign a line and list a weapon model but are supposed to protect not only me and the base personnel, but humanity as a whole, I believe something has to be done about this. Sir" I had calmed significantly during my tirade and now I awaited the Commander's reply.
Awards:
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An Intro to Anowa
United States of Conner wrote:STOP TRYING TO EAT PEOPLE
I'M FUCKING SERIOUS
GODDAMMIT

Anowa wrote:
Serah wrote:He continued to fight, humping from person to person, either cutting or obliterating altogether.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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Socarux
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Ex-Nation

Postby Socarux » Wed Jun 03, 2015 11:46 pm

He was working diligently already on his prototype already in the moderately heavy yet mobile armor he was issued when he heard the sirens blare and the loudspeakers say, "Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

"Fucking Exo's!" He shouted. He wrote the exact gear he was going to take on a piece of paper grabbed Ajax and left it in the locked portion of his bunk. He then sprinted to the armory and slammed down the paper note onto the sheet with a P.S. section saying, "Sorry, I am in a hurry. The above is all I will be taking." Along with his name and sig at the bottom.

Patrick had seven minutes to spare, he pulled the FN SCAR-H and he half stripped the rifle. Patrick expertly converted the .308 rifle to the 5.56x45 chamber and slid on a 14 inch bull barrel(with flash hider and suppressor capability) followed by a picketini quad-rail. He then quickly screwed on to the bottom of the rail a forward grip bipod, and a combo light/laser pointer. Then he sighted a short range scope that he mounted on top along with a red dot reflex sight. He slid on a 5 mag bandoloider onto the right side. He grabbed a combat axe, 350 rnds of 5.56x45 ammo(.223), x1 50rnd drum mag, x10 30rnd mags, x6 12rnd .45acp mags, x2 HK mk23 (on thigh), 72rnds .45acp, 1x Ruger SP101 (in his boot), 3x .357 quick loaders, 24rnds .357. Standard gear kit, 4 smoke grenades, 6 frags, 2 incidenary, 1 3lb brick of Semtex. 1 7inch SOG knife.

Patrick bolted to the transport with 50s of time left, saw the man who he thought was the Lieutenant and saluted. "I am Srgt. Patrick Socarux, reporting for duty sir!"
Last edited by Socarux on Thu Jun 04, 2015 8:23 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Shyluz
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Ex-Nation

Postby Shyluz » Thu Jun 04, 2015 5:46 pm

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Medbay
Artem Yurivich

"Hey Emilie," Artem croaked, the wiry man had had several ribs busted, and some internal bleeding. "I owe you."

He smiled at the woman who'd likely just saved his life. He was a beat to shit Czech. And Czechs pay their debts. Else they get cheesy jokes along the lines of: 'Me? Oh I'm just going to cash a Czech.' Bullshit. Bullshit Artem didn't appreciate. So, he would pay his debts. He looked at himself as best he could. He truly looked like he had been through hell and back. His nostrils were filled with that nasty overly-sanitized scent, his torso was a blob of purple that almost looked like some abstract painting. His glasses were beside him, and they were cracked. Worst of all, his legs felt like jelly. Fun. His head was wrapped with a bandage, and he could only imagine the bruise on the back of his head.

"Just holler if you need anything."

He smiled once more, and fell asleep. God knows, the man needed it.
Otherwise known as Nornsmark for official, region-ey things.

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Brusia
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Fri Jun 05, 2015 10:43 am

As each member of his team entered the hanger and reported in, Gordon returned their salutes and directed them to take their seats in the V-44. When the last team member arrived, he entered the V-44 and ordered the pilot to take off.

"Alright everyone" said Gordon "Strap yourselves in, I'll start the briefing when we're in the air..."

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Vacif
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Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Vacif » Fri Jun 05, 2015 1:12 pm

Brusia wrote:As each member of his team entered the hanger and reported in, Gordon returned their salutes and directed them to take their seats in the V-44. When the last team member arrived, he entered the V-44 and ordered the pilot to take off.

"Alright everyone" said Gordon "Strap yourselves in, I'll start the briefing when we're in the air..."

"Yes sir" Vince said. He climbed up the ramp, and took the first seat on the right. This was out of convenience, and so that in the event the LZ was for whatever reason hot, Vince could clear the area with the M203. Only the second day, and there were so many deployments, what was the alien's game? If they wanted to be aggressive, why wasn't there an entire invasion fleet? If there was, and they were just hiding in space, why were their landing craft so easy to spot? Unless...they were decoys, and the landing craft were already on the planet...
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Generailia
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Ex-Nation

Postby Generailia » Fri Jun 05, 2015 2:19 pm

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Recruit Chris Ackermann


When the man who Chris assumed was his commander directed him to take his seat on the V-44 Chris responded with a soft. "Yes sir." Before he made his way onto the V-44. Once he was on board he took the first seat on the left. Once he was there he simply sat down and waited. When Gordon gave the order to strap themselves in Chris sat there for a minutes and after feeling around for awhile to find the easily seen straps he found them as he did his best to hide his embarrassment considering how much time it took him to find it. He then strapped himself in as he did all he could to keep himself awake while remaining silent.
Last edited by Generailia on Fri Jun 05, 2015 2:21 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Anowa
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Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Fri Jun 05, 2015 7:12 pm

Spec. Kowalski, Outdoor firing range
*bloop**BOOM**shick**ting* I had been spending the morning firing 40mm's at a target increasing range by 5 meters each time trying to break my record of 375 meters without a miss, as I reached over into the box of ammo I had 'borrowed' from the armory i felt nothing but the empty space of being out of ammo, I began to stand *kling-tin-tingaling* nearly 40 casings of 40mm HE rounds skittered off of my lap, 'at least I made it to 200m.' I switched the safety on the 416 and slung it over my back, I began carting the shells from the ground into the empty box so as not to litter the range, as I finished I looked at the sky, by my guess it was around 9 o'clock in the morning.

Walking back inside I dropped by the armory to find it locked and with a note on the door 'whoops.' I simply placed the box of empty casing on the floor outside the room and walked to the barracks to stow my rifle, as I stepped into the barrack the familiarity of it's smell nearly scorched my nostrils 'I'm going to talk to the commander about this, I mean seriously how does it get this bad?' as I walked over to my bunk, and in tandem, my locker I passed by a stocky man and from the patch on his shoulder he was Canadian, he seemed to be in a kind of rush so I decided not to start a conversation, I had yet to really talk to anyone from ATHENA yet other than the Doctor for my physical and the psychiatrist for a 'mental state reading' I shoved the rifle into the locker and made my way to the rec lounge/mess hall.

As I entered I found a few of the others talking to each other and a few people watching the television, it was football, not exactly something he was fond of but it was better than nothing, I sat at a table a bit of a ways away, and quickly became enthralled.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
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An Intro to Anowa
United States of Conner wrote:STOP TRYING TO EAT PEOPLE
I'M FUCKING SERIOUS
GODDAMMIT

Anowa wrote:
Serah wrote:He continued to fight, humping from person to person, either cutting or obliterating altogether.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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Bentus
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Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Bentus » Sat Jun 06, 2015 2:22 pm

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Emilie Girard

The day before


Emilie looked down at Artem with a surprised expression. It wasn’t the whole sentimental sense of debt which struck her, but rather that she was certain that the presently bed-ridden Czech was being clear-headedly serious. Wounded soldiers, their minds somewhere off in fairy-land thanks to the combined effects of bloodloss or anaesthetics, often times wound up declaring their eternal gratitude to their saviours. Emilie had had some idiot pledge to marry her at one point: would have made for an interesting conversation-starter with the man’s wife. Medics learn to filter it out – along with the screaming – and concentrate on their jobs, bills need to be paid after all. But there was something about the conviction in Artem’s tone, the way in which his eyes looked at her, that caused her typical retort to get stuck in Emilie’s throat.

The woman smiled without even realising why, feeling a strange comfort from the pledge. Her reaction was so unexpected, that for a moment she didn’t know quite how to react.
“I’ll keep your number handy then. Might take you up on that offer and cash a –“ She paused as she realised that Artem’s eyes were already closed shut, and his battered chest was rising and falling in a calm, rhythmic pattern. The medic shook her head in disbelief, Ah bon, probably for the best. Cash a Czech? Stupide. Emilie left the wounded warrior to get his rest, making her way for the Medbay’s exit.

“We’ll see how he’s recovered in the morning, Alexei. The bruising is going to stick around, but is manageable – his ribs are going to hurt like a salope though.” Emilie yawned again. Artem needed his sleep to allow his body to recover, and the sedatives should help him get it – but she felt like she needed to hit the sack herself. She turned to the other medical officer. “I’m going to call it a night.” She slapped Alexei on the shoulder as she walked past him, making her way to the door and – eventually – an uncomfortable, but more than welcome, bunk in the barracks.



The Present Day

The warm water of the shower was like an intoxicating breath of fresh air for Emilie’s strained muscles. The intense exertion of the demanding workout seemed to be flowing away with the water down the drain, along with the unwanted memories brought up by the previous-night’s dream. Emilie felt a sense of achievement form having met her routine, in spite of her still jet-lagged fatigue, and relished the reward of the early-morning shower. She knew all too-well that the warmth was well worth the early rise: it didn’t take long for the hot water supplies of a crowded military facility to disappear, and Emilie wanted to take advantage of every second she had access to the luxury.

The woman’s stomach growled loudly in the steam-filled shower, reminding her that she had yet to grab a bite from the mess. Emilie thrust her face under the streaming water, ignoring the demands of her gut. The food would stick around for a while longer, the hot water wouldn’t; she could afford a few more minutes –

“Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Gordon, Sergeants Hath, Lorenzen and Socarux, Lance Corporal Chen, PFC Farkas, and Recruits Ackermann and Allen-Montgomery, please report to Hangar Two in ten minutes."

The voice blared out across the intercom, cutting off Emilie’s train of thought. She listened intently, ignoring the impact of the water droplets on her head. Once it had finished, she let out a sigh – of relief or disappointment, she wasn’t entirely sure. Her name hadn’t come up, and so she still had the chance to enjoy her little moment of bliss. She smirked as she imagined the poor sods who had just been awoken to a ten minute warning for a deployment, not feeling in the least bit jealous. Still, she hoped they all kept their heads and didn’t do something stupid that ended up getting them all killed.

Suddenly, Emilie’s eyes shot open in surprise – one of the names from the announcement firing alarm bells in her mind.

Hastily tugging on the tap to turn off the shower head, Emilie accidentally unleashed a torrent of freezing Dutch water. “Zut!” She cried out in both shock and anger as the icy flood singed every piece of skin it touched, burning her nerve cells and eliciting an inelegant scramble to shut off the flow. The woman gritted her teeth, infuriated that in a moment she'd gone from refreshed to shivering – but there wasn’t time to curse whoever had designed the shower. Practically throwing herself out of the cubicle, Emilie grabbed her clothes and started throwing the different articles over her still-soaked figure, muttering the occasional expletive along the way.



Emilie burst out of the gymnasium while hopping on one foot, still trying to force her left boot on as she went – colliding with the opposite wall of the corridor for her efforts. “Bugger it!” She cursed as pain shot through the shoulder that had borne the brunt of the impact. Emilie threw what clothes she still had yet to put on to the floor: a tank-top, boots and trousers would have to suffice. How long did she have left? The announcement over the intercom had said ten minutes, but at least one should’ve already passed and the gym was on the opposite side of the base to the medbay.

Emilie sprinted headlong through the corridor, screaming at anyone in her way to move themselves or physically shoving them aside if they hadn’t yet got to their morning Joe. She skidded around another corner, her eyes darting to signs and room names as she promised to go over the layout of Ooster properly before the day was out. Finally, she came across a door with ‘medbay’ emblazoned above it, and better yet, she saw Dr. Chakwas leaving from the clinic.

“Dr. Chakwas, sir!” Sliding to a halt before her superior officer, Emilie offered a breathless salute. “I need to talk to you about the team being sent on the mission, one member in specific.” What is it? Two minutes? Less? The older Doctor gestured for her to continue, his eyes still showing evidence of an inadequate night’s sleep and implying that he had yet to consume enough of the caffeinated beverage in his hand to alleviate the symptoms. “Sir, with all due respect, I have to insist that you pull Recruit Chris Ackerman from the op team. He was involved in the operation yesterday, and has only had hours to recover. He wasn’t wounded as severely as some of his squadmates, but fatigue can be just as deadly.” Emilie spoke without pausing, well aware that time was ticking down against her, but had to can it when the grey-haired Doctor raised a hand.

“Private, what time is it?”

The question was not what Emilie had been expecting, and it took her a moment to respond. “It is, ah,” she glanced quickly down at her watch only to realise in dismay that it was strewn along with the rest of her discarded uniform outside the gym.

“The correct answer is that it is early, Private. Too damn early for me to deal with this soft-skinned bullshit, file a complaint and be done with it – I’ve got better things to do. Recruit Ackerman suffered a minor graze to the arm, nothing that would prevent him from doing his duty, and he’s got experience against the enemy. That’s valuable.”
Emilie resisted the urge to tell the Doctor exactly what she thought of his assessment, and rather – for once – tried to swallow her pride. “Sir, it is not the safety of Recruit Ackermann which I believe to be in danger. His wound may still impair him in combat, and his actions yesterday are still the subject of review – he may have placed one of his squadmates in danger by his reckless actions. By being sent out so soon after such an op, the lives of his comrades are once again being gambled needlessly. I feel that I am morally obligated to –“

“Can it, would you?” Emilie stopped immediately. Dr. Chakwas sighed, rubbing his temples with his free hand. “Trust me when I say that all this has been considered. Contrary to what many believe, I do know how to do my job. Besides, you’re about one minute too late – the squad’s already departed.” The doctor shrugged in response to Emilie’s distraught expression of disbelief. “Even if I wanted to pull Ackermann, I can’t.” Chakwas looked at the young woman, feeling a pang of sympathy for the medic – knowing full well the thoughts that were screaming for attention in her mind. “Look, Girard, you’re good at this – that’s why you’re here – but the big honcho’s upstairs have a bigger picture than we do. You’re right, nothing else considered I’d make the same decision that you have, but it’s out of my control. The boys and girls who pull the strings have made the call that experience trumps legitimate medical concerns in this instance – if you don’t like it, file a complaint. But I don’t think it’s worth your time.”

Emilie mulled the words over, coming to the realisation that Chakwas was right. She sighed in defeat, but felt a pit of unease forming in her chest – her own powerlessness in this situation and the menacing threat of all the unknowns weighing down upon her. “You’re right, sir. I shouldn’t have questioned your judgement as Head of Medical.” Emilie suddenly felt a surge of awkwardness, feeling ridiculous at what must have looked like a crazed sprint through half the base and ending with nothing to show for it. She must look pathetic, standing there soaking wet and with the laces of her boots lying untied at her feet.

“Get something to eat Private, don’t let something like this get to you – it’s going to be one of the easier moments in all this.”

Emilie nodded in response, saluting once more before turning to make her way back towards the gym.

“And Girard,” She turned back to look at her superior, who was smiling helplessly at himself. “Next time you come running from the showers, try to think a bit more before wearing a white tank top.”
Last edited by Bentus on Sun Jun 07, 2015 12:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Sat Jun 06, 2015 5:49 pm

Anowa wrote:
Tiltjuice wrote:
"Enter," came the familiar voice of the base CO.

Murphy
I opened the door barely restraining my anger, I slammed the door behind me perhaps a bit too hard, I spoke through semi-gritted teeth, "Commander, I'd like to file a complaint about the actions of several soldiers on station." inside my head I was scanning the man trying to get a gauge on his feelings, the speech he gave the newbies was introductory, and half of them weren't new in the business of war, so he was wondering where their training had gone, and why the speech was even needed, "They seem to be unaware that if the weaponry in the armory goes missing and we can't keep track of it that eventually we'll have seven soldiers carrying ammo while only one has a rifle, the last time a situation like that happened was during Stalingrad nearly 80 years ago. I don't know about you Sir but I think we've advanced a bit since 1943, it physically causes me pain to even think that this base has Tier 1 operatives in it who can't sign a line and list a weapon model but are supposed to protect not only me and the base personnel, but humanity as a whole, I believe something has to be done about this. Sir" I had calmed significantly during my tirade and now I awaited the Commander's reply.


Leon Pier turned away from his keyboard as he tried to parse his quartermaster's complaint.

"Murphy, what specifically is the issue here? Are there incidents of soldiers just taking weapons from the armory for personal use? Please state the problem and I'll look into it, or assign someone to do so."

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Anowa
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Posts: 16285
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Sat Jun 06, 2015 5:59 pm

Tiltjuice wrote:
Anowa wrote:Murphy
I opened the door barely restraining my anger, I slammed the door behind me perhaps a bit too hard, I spoke through semi-gritted teeth, "Commander, I'd like to file a complaint about the actions of several soldiers on station." inside my head I was scanning the man trying to get a gauge on his feelings, the speech he gave the newbies was introductory, and half of them weren't new in the business of war, so he was wondering where their training had gone, and why the speech was even needed, "They seem to be unaware that if the weaponry in the armory goes missing and we can't keep track of it that eventually we'll have seven soldiers carrying ammo while only one has a rifle, the last time a situation like that happened was during Stalingrad nearly 80 years ago. I don't know about you Sir but I think we've advanced a bit since 1943, it physically causes me pain to even think that this base has Tier 1 operatives in it who can't sign a line and list a weapon model but are supposed to protect not only me and the base personnel, but humanity as a whole, I believe something has to be done about this. Sir" I had calmed significantly during my tirade and now I awaited the Commander's reply.


Leon Pier turned away from his keyboard as he tried to parse his quartermaster's complaint.

"Murphy, what specifically is the issue here? Are there incidents of soldiers just taking weapons from the armory for personal use? Please state the problem and I'll look into it, or assign someone to do so."


Murphy sighed, "The problem is that if they lose said weapon on the field and someone isn't notified, than the problem ends up snowballing until we don't have any guns anymore, and if that happens it tends to be bad. I spent the entire morning figuring out who took what, filling out a requisition sheet to get the ammo we need, as well as replacements for the equipment Lance Corporal Yurivich damaged, and when I finally finish and put up the sign out sheet, the sheet people fill out when they take something from the armory, more soldiers pour in and take more equipment and ammo from the armory and don't sign it out, which leads to me almost having an aneurism and the conversation we're having now, Sir."
Last edited by Anowa on Sat Jun 06, 2015 6:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa
United States of Conner wrote:STOP TRYING TO EAT PEOPLE
I'M FUCKING SERIOUS
GODDAMMIT

Anowa wrote:
Serah wrote:He continued to fight, humping from person to person, either cutting or obliterating altogether.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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Tiltjuice
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Posts: 33959
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Sat Jun 06, 2015 8:06 pm

Anowa wrote:
Tiltjuice wrote:
Leon Pier turned away from his keyboard as he tried to parse his quartermaster's complaint.

"Murphy, what specifically is the issue here? Are there incidents of soldiers just taking weapons from the armory for personal use? Please state the problem and I'll look into it, or assign someone to do so."


Murphy sighed, "The problem is that if they lose said weapon on the field and someone isn't notified, than the problem ends up snowballing until we don't have any guns anymore, and if that happens it tends to be bad. I spent the entire morning figuring out who took what, filling out a requisition sheet to get the ammo we need, as well as replacements for the equipment Lance Corporal Yurivich damaged, and when I finally finish and put up the sign out sheet, the sheet people fill out when they take something from the armory, more soldiers pour in and take more equipment and ammo from the armory and don't sign it out, which leads to me almost having an aneurism and the conversation we're having now, Sir."


Pier turned back to his computer and began typing casually. With a gesture of finality, he hit the Print icon and the device in the corner of his office whirred to life. Multiple copies of a document spat out.


GENERAL NOTICE

Under battlefield conditions, ATHENA troopers are expected to keep their weapons and equipment in general good condition. If this is not possible, please report immediately to the quartermaster or his designated assistant so replacements can be ordered. Use of personal weapons is not recommended due to the need to standardize ammunition supply and the fact that we are not responsible for replacements.

Additionally, please remember to sign out any equipment from the armory before leaving. Failure to do so will result in administrative action.

PIER L
CMDR - ATHENA

"Please have the base staff post these in the common areas, the armory, and the dormitories," the Commander instructed. "Was there anything else?"

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