XCAS Roleplay

[Atz]

((OOC Post, but very much RPG related heh))

 

Heya guys,

 

In order to make some kind of rpg post here, I think I need a log of last sim so I can get a fair idea what acctually happend heh. So, if anyone got one, please send it to extra underscore cool underscore gargy at hotmail.com. I guess you can figure out what I mean

[Loonie]

Martin was very puzzled by what she had said. He couldn't figure it out what exactly she meant by asking that question and the expression on her face also indicated that she herself might not know. Still Martin loosened up his posture a bit and replied:

 

"Um....no. Came close to recieving one once but never that I would have a real one, no."

 

Another pause ensued with both people looking into a preset spot of the wall. The silence was indeed quite uncomfortable and both of them just kept staring with the door to the room inadvertently still open in the back. Martin then decided to start by presenting the promotion since he didn't see any way of leading onto it like he did with Scott:

 

"Fleche, the first reason why I came here was so as to express the entire gratitude of the team to you. Um.....many people had a lot of doubts about you, being a Kabron Pirate not to mention hating our guts for your..." Kacur thought it might be better that he doesn't mention the part he was about to say and continued from another point in his speech "...well, in any event. The truth is that Sergeant Yorke was the only medic around here until you decided to voulnteer, not to mention you serving as quite possibly the best combat medic I've ever seen." Martin once again paused and a moment of silence prevaded. He was thinking of presenting her the Corporal stripe, but by now he had learned of how paranoid this woman could be and decided to wait with the stripe for a moment so as she could process everything he had said or also bring out any of her anger, something for which he had promised to himself he would anticipate...

 

<<Heh, Martin's keeping it relatively cool so far but...will it last? >>

[Caster13]

Terra listened to what Kacur said calmy while continuing to sit quietly on her bed. When Kacur stopped talking for a bit, her face screwed up in thought. "I'm sorry for slapping you before, twice... Or was it three times?" She said, as if not listening to what Kacur had said previously. "I don't have much of an explanation for them. But... you kept on reading me wrong..."

 

She paused for a bit. As if recollecting her thoughts, "And before, when I said not to take anything personally... I meant it." Another long pause.

 

"Our relationship--my relationship with X-Com and its members will never become anything else other than professional, sir," She not just to Kacur, but to herself, attempting to reassure herself.

 

Terra stood up slowly and looked back at Lieutenant Kacur. "I'm sorry... Were you about to say something...?"

[Strong Bob]

<<Insert right after CZ's roleplay. >>

 

Scott held the Corporal stripes up to his face again.

 

Scott: Jackson once made "Sergeant"? Funny, somehow the rank of "Corporal" has lost value to me...

 

Scott pocketed the stripes, as he was still wearing the tattered uniform from the last mission and needed a change first, and grimaced in pain as he tried to sit up and move his legs over the side of the bed.

 

Scott: Alright... I give up. Jacko, if you get shot or fall unconscious every mission, AND have a mental condition that they gave up on three years before you got here, just how in the hell are you still in X-COM!? Christ, I...

 

He cut his himself off mid-sentence. Aware that whatever Jackson said to answer his question would only lead to more confusion.

 

Scott: Rrg, nevermind. (Steps out of the bed and limps towards the exit)

 

Jackson: Where ya goin'?

 

Scott: Um, taking a walk. If Dr. Yorke asks, tell him I'll be right back. I'm not spending another minute in this damn hospital.

 

Scott walked out of the Med-Bay and headed for the Mess Hall. He was hungry and wasn't letting a mild Fusion wound to his leg get in the way.

[Atz]

Atzel opened her eyes and imidiatly closed them against the bright light, letting lose a sulpher and brimstone salvo concerning the person who put the lights on and his bovine ancestory. After fumbling for a while for the light switch with her good arm, she managed to put the light out over her bed in the infermary.

She opened her eyes again... and tried to open her left eye a secon time, only to find out that it was completly swollen shut.

And after realising that her neck was too sore and stiff to move, she clears her throat and says with a coarse and dry voice, as loudly as she can "Hey... Doc Yorke, are you there? Doc?"

[DragonHawk]

Private Anne Rallwell groaned as she walked away from engineering. Behind her, a smirking McBannok called out: "Don't worry, I'll leave you with some interesting filing for when you come back" A roar of laughter ensued, cut off by the sliding of the automatic door. Moron, Rallwell thought somewhat good humoredly.

 

They had been tinkering with the one of the automated tanks that morning. The bloody thing had burnt out one of the control cards the last time they had taken it out for testing. Kitat Chung had been a bit too enthusiastic when he charged it up the hill... the card, which had been surplused from an Ascidan robotic harvester, burnt out under the stress. Apparently the build quality had not been so good on that one - the replacement was 'new in box' and hopefully would be sufficient.

 

She had been called in by the good Doctor. He had be swamped with injuries from the last mission. Most were significant, requiring a fair amount of attention, and he needed an aide to help him out. Or rather, he needed another aid - Terra Fleche, one of the captured Kabrons, had replaced Rallwell as the primary medical technician in the medbay. Rumour had it that Commander Weindhoven was going to release another medical specialist, this time a medical researcher, from cryo, possibly for doing more in-depth studies on how some of the aliens worked, especially those damned Ethereals...

 

As she walked into the medbay, she was greeted by a bizarre sight. In one bed, Evander was croaking her life out. It looked like she was trying to get attention or something, but whatever it is sounded horrible. In another bed, farther down, Jackson was playing with his vegetables, waging some sort of war between what looked like a man and the blob spawn of death. Rallwell chuckled to herself. Jackson didn't seem to need anything. As she walked towards Evander, she grinned and called out, "Danny, who's winning?"

 

Listening for a shouted reply, she walked over to Evander. "Hey Atz, how are things going? Need anything? Water?" She held out a glass. As she held it out, she picked up the notation on the side table, it hopefully having some clues as to what Evander went through.

[Loonie]

Upon hearing her apology for the slapping Martin soon after said in haste: "Look, think nothing of it. Actually now that I consider it I really think I needed it the second time..."

 

He could also tie that along to the next sentance that she said and Martin could imagine why it would be so hard to become anything more than professional with the X-Com team. And yet...the whole problem was that being so far away from Earth what was to say that this was still X-Com asides from their insignias. Martin thought about that through another pause and decided to at least try to share some of his thoughts about it with Fleche:

 

"Hmmm. You know...when I was first defrosted into this place I was still a ferverent believer that we have to somehow further X-Com's goals in this part of the galaxy. It didn't matter if the distance was 60 light years from Earth, we would find a way to do it, if not anything at least establish an alliance with the Ascidians so that one day they could contact the other X-Com at Earth. But.....as the time passes in this last half of a year I must say I just can't think of it that way anymore. With so many deaths amongst our ranks I'd rather see it that we just get home somehow."

 

Another long pause occured during which Martin recollected his words and Terra thought a bit about the words she had just heard:

 

"In any case I've decided to further any recruitment efforts within the Kabron Pirates. Sooner or later we'll have to start working together to get home, since both of us are dying in this. And if you don't believe me ask your buddy Thom Garrison who lost his loved one during that attack on NAO or myself who had so far seen 7 of our soldiers die, one of them under my own responsibility and being one of my closest friends." Martin concluded still remembering the horrible scene he witnessed more than 2 weeks ago in NAO's Containment facility <<see my previous post before we were captured >> and after that O'Connor briefly. He suppresed his tears about that thought and now decided to present the stripe to Terra and extended his arm before beginning:

 

" *sigh* In any event. Terra Fleche, on behalf of the entire team I am sure, I present to you the rank of Corporal. I hope you take this as our sincere appreciation of your service amongst our ranks as well." he paused for a moment and was slowly moving to exit the room: "And I know that it will be hard for you to just "be friends" with us but something tells me that it won't be long until you go insane without any friends, either now here or later in your life. So if you need any help drop by my office at any time. I'm here for any help you need." he concluded slowly turning towards the door and beginning to head out of the door, glad that he had finished that. Or did he just think he had?

[Andrew_175]

::Necro wandered into the med bay to see how Jackoson was doing, as he rounded the corner he saw Jacko playing with his 2 veg::

 

"Alright jacko" Necro shouted

 

<<I know its small but I was begining to feel left out>>

[Caster13]

Terra took the corporal stripes from Kacur and stood there as he walked out of the door. She continued standing after he left and the door closed. She continued to stand in the middle of her room with her corporal stripes held loosely in her hand.

[Strong Bob]

<<Must break chain of short posts before it consumes us all!!!!>>

 

Scott was sitting alone at a table in the Mess Hall. He had a bowl of soup sitting in front of him, it looked like chicken soup but the utter lack of chickens in NAO forced him to not question what was in it.

He dipped his spoon in it and started stirring it around, thinking on the events past. His capture, the fantasy, that goddamn Commander Weindhoven...

 

(Some time ago, aboard the API ship)

Weindhoven: The armory or laboratory are likely where they're keeping our stolen equipment.

 

Scott: What about the Quartermaster? I think we should be looking for that instead.

 

Weindhoven: This is no time for jokes Private...

 

(Back in the now)

 

Scott: (Clenching the spoon, resisting the urge to hurl it across the room in anger) Jokes... Ugh! That fool was lucky he was right! The Armory? Laboratory? Christ, X-COM technology is clearly inferior to them! Why would they compliment their own stock with them in the armory!? Why would they research them in the lab!?

 

He exhaled deeply, looking down into his now swirling soup. He scooped some up with the spoon and took a quick sip. His mind progressed from his frustration with X-COM command, to what happened in his imprisonment.

 

Scott: 'Liz... Why did they have to remind me of you? The only partner I ever agreed with...

 

Eventually Scott finished his soup. He knew that if he didn't report back to the med-bay Dr. Yorke would make him "Scrub the floors with his tongue." But Scott didn't feel like going back in there. Jackson was the embodiment of nutso and he wasn't exactly in the mood to see Atzel just yet. Seeing her lay on that hospital bed scarred and beaten from torture was a bit more than he could bear.

 

He stood up from the table, taking and depositing the bowl and spoon on the approriate rack, and left for his quarters. He had some thinking to do... And a little soul searching.

[Mouse Nightshirt]

Weindhoven yawned, one of those huge gaping ones you rarely see an officer do. He was, well bored. Sitting around was not exactly what he had been used to doing for the past few months. The Red Skulls were considerably different to the X-Com forces, and compared to the Red Skulls, X-Com was well...

 

He thought for a minute to the answer to his own questions. X-Com were definately not useless. Nor were they sunstandard. They were probably the most self-sufficient, and diverse division in the Ascidian controlled army. But compared to the Red Skulls, well, they were...

 

Richter got tired of sitting in his chair. He was getting more reclusive as time went on. He eventually decided to raise himself out of his chair, and go around the base.

 

He opened to door and looked down the corridor. It was quite empty, as usual. Few people actually ventured down this corridor during normal base schedule. He walked down the corridor, and decided to go up via the Cargo Gravlift.

 

He ascended, thinking of how things were in the lab, so he took a trip over there. On the way, he went past the newly promoted Corporal Fléche. Richter briefly made eye-contact before turning away, not registering her response. He had looked up her profile in the database, and had wondered why she, out of probably all the Kabron Pirates had decided that X-Com was the way to go. Richter would have had some problems with her initiation if he had been there at the time, but seemingly, she seemed to just about fit in. The next person to come to his mind was Lieutenant Kacur, and Richter grinned at why he had indeed come into his mind next. He decided that maybe now, with a grin from one ear to the other, was not a good time to be meeting the Lieutenant.

 

He took a quick glance in the lab to check if anyone was there, which, interesting enough there wasn't. Richter then decided to check out the med bay, where Evander and Jackson were.

 

First he checked in on Evander. She was sleeping. Richter felt quite sorry for the Private. She was covered in bruises, cuts, bandages and generally was in a worse state than even the old NHS from back when the UK existed could put anyone in. At that point, Yorke walked in.

 

"Hello Commander. Paying a visit to casualty 01275-Beta Foxtrot November?"

"Yes, you could say that, how is she?"

"Sleeping at the moment. She really did get the worst of it back then. But she's stable, can talk, and she'll be fine. They didn't do anything distinctly harmful to her, just very painful. By the way, you're due a checkup on that big puncture wound in your chest."

Richter immediately went on the defensive for some reason, unbeknown to Yorke.

"No, I'll be fine thanks. Seems to be healing up nicely."

"Are you sure you don't want a checkup sir? Incase infection may have set in."

"No, it's perfectly alright thanks."

 

Richter hurridly left the ICU and instead went to visit Jackson. As he looked into the cubicle, to his great disgust, he saw what looked like half a plate of those rather disgusting Ascidian "delacassies". It was infact, the droppings of a rare bird found on the Ascidian homeplanet. It smelt like shit too. He was quite amazed to see that it was infact, Jackson who was eating them.

 

"'Lo Jacko." said the Commander in a unnaturally high-pitched voice.

"Commander" shouted Jackson through a full mouth of bird droppings, spraying them all over the uniform of Richter. "Sorry abouf dhat," he continued, trying to swallow the droppings, "here, do you want to try this! Tastes pretty good"

"I'm sure it does Corporal," Richter lied through his teeth, "Just wondering how everyone is. What have you been up to?"

"Hmm, I'm fine fanks, jus been lukking up shome reshipees" said Jackson, filling his mouth with another mouthful of the... shit, "Thef all jus goin abouf deir bufness sherr," continued Jackson, "dey'll be abouf shomewear."

Richter grinned again. Jackson had quite a few strong points, one being the ability to try most culinary disasters, but of which one was certainly not table manners.

 

Richter then felt a groan in his stomach. He was hungry. Infact, lunch duty hadn't been arranged for the day, so, Richter, to Jackson's great suprise, told him he would make lunch for everyone, and went into the mess-hall behind the bar, stuck on a cooking hat, and began to cook together some food.

[Loonie]

<<You know, what I really like about Scott is that his hate for authority hasn't simply and unrealistically dissapeared, but that it had refocused itself from Kacur onto another person. Weindhoven. >>

 

Martin then left the room and headed straight towards his own quarters. "Cold-shower time again" he thought to himself. It was apparently the only thing that was keeping his cool after talking to women. With those whom he knew, like Terra, he could supress it and mask it well enough until the conversation was over, but it couldn't last forever and a cold shower was usually needed so that his mind began functioning properly again.

 

He headed towards the end of the corridor, taking a right turn at the end. He noticed how lucky he was that he still had the same office/room that he had before Weindhoven returned, since Colonel Cyriacus was not recovered during the last mission. But then again...lucky? Was it lucky for the team that the Colonel had not been recovered? Not likely....not at all. Ghost had to move out of his own into Martin's though so as to give the Commander a free room all to himself. The two now shared the office/room, but Martin knew all too well that Ghost was just now out on the ranges around NAO getting back into shape since being captured.

 

After stepping inside he closed the door and began undressing. About halfway though he stopped for some reason and sat down on his chair with his pants still on but without a shirt. He simply sat there for a few moments and remembered some things...memories of his childhood which he had deemed as worthless...up until now it would seem...

[Caster13]

It was pitch black and Terra couldn't see anything anywhere in it. She rolled onto her right side on the bed and shut her eyes, trying to relax, trying to get some sleep, trying to forget everything that was happening. She couldn't.

 

She wanted out of this situation. It seemed like things were improving. She was getting along relatively well with X-Com and its members. She was doing well on the missions with the others, hell, she got promoted to corporal!

 

She was a freaking corporal now. A big freaking important corporal. For services rendered and contributed to the good cause of X-Com she was awarded a promotion. It meant squat to her. Sure, she attached the stripes to her uniform, but it was nothing more than a prefabricated textile attached to some useless uniform should could have never considered wearing.

 

Kacur mentioned going insane without making any friends among the other X-Com members. It felt like she already was. She was trapped. Trapped in some far flung end of the galaxy alone without anyone she could truly trust or love or feel. She most definitely was already insane.

 

Terra sat up in a fury, her arms flailing about pulling away the blankets and ripping it slightly. She couldn't take this anymore and wanted nothing to do with anything. She grabbed the nearest object she could grab and flung it against the wall near the light switch. Despite her emotional and mental entanglement she hit the switch, causing the lights in her room to turn on. She reached out and pulled open a nearby drawer reached in pulled out an X-Com pistol. With a single swift movement she rashly aimed the deadly end of the barrel towards her temple and squeezed the trigger.

 

She squeezed it again, and again. But the trigger wouldn't budge. She let the pistol drop to her bed. She saw that she didn't hit the safety. Like many other things in the galaxy at that moment, the pistol seemed oddly confusing and complex to use. But also pointless. What was the point of a safety on a weapon? She thought to herself. Her mind racing, thinking irrational and inconclusive thoughts. Pointless, she answered herself. Pointless like everything else. Like everything. Every one.

 

The frustration boiled up within her. She grabbed at the pistol again, unsafed it this time and fired rather aimlessly. She aimed straight towards the cieling and fired, pulling the trigger and relishing in the chaotic explosive sound of the gunfire. Despite its deafening sound, it oddly calmed her mind hearing something that seemed more chaotic and dangerous than her own thoughts, her own mind. She continued firing, putting hole after hole into the cieling above her watching the ejected brass casings fall and burn her expose arms. Eventually, she heard nothing more than the empty clicking noise of her pistol run dry.

 

Tears travelled down her cheek. They created warm, wet, salty path ways down her face and onto her neck. She realized, that she should've saved a bullet for herself.

 

<<Er... Yeah, angsty o_o; Anyway, uhm, probably horrible timing to be posting this Sunday morning (5:20 AM <_< but yeah, I guess we can try assuming it happens after today's mission and whoever wants to respond to it can post after todays sim.>>

[Mouse Nightshirt]

Richter awoke with a bolt.

 

"Gunfire!?"

 

He quickly got up out of the sleeping bag he had on the floor, after a restless night in which he found it hard to sleep (he preferred the bag over the bed because he preferred sleeping in small spaces rather than a large open bed which got far too warm at night), and headed straight to the small computer terminal in the wall.

 

"Daedalus, run a full base scan for hostiles."

 

A breif pause, before the message "No hostiles detected" displayed.

 

Richter breathed a sigh of relief, but he was sure the gunshot was from the living quarters, so he continued,

 

"Daedalus, locate gunfire."

 

Another brief pause.

 

"Gun was fired in module 'Personell Quarters' sector Beta 4."

 

"Sector Beta 4?" Richter thought, "Shit! That's Terra's room! Daedalus, check for lifesigns in Personell Quarters sector Beta 4."

 

"One human lifesign deteced."

 

Richter quickly put on his casual uniform, and walked out the door. Seemingly, few others had no heard the gunshot. Maybe because the rooms were somewhat soundproof to those in a deep sleep, and Richter wasn't exactly sleeping at the time. He headed straight to Terra's dorm, which should occupy two, but which Weindhoven thought Terra would appreciate being left to her own devices. He banged hard on the door.

 

"Corporal Fléche, open this door now."

 

Silence.

 

"Corporal Terra Fléche, I order you to open this door"

 

<<tag!>>

[Ghost]

Ghost was still sitting awake in his room, filing a few reports regarding the last few missions, when he heard the gunshots coming from Terra's room. He didn't think of using Daedalus to locate the source, but as the gunshots continued, he could probably find the source. He quickly got up from his chair and drew his sidearm, moving quietly out of his room, checking both ways for hostiles as he went.

He quietly moved through the darkened base, lights had been turned off, to create a sort of simulated night in the base. Using this to his advantage to remain unseen, he followed the sound of the gunshots. When he approached what he believed to be the source, he found Commander Weindhoven already banging on the door and yelling at Terra to open the door.

Quietly moving over to the Commander, Ghost put a hand on Weindhoven's shoulder,

"Commander, do you know what is going on here? Are there hostiles in the base?"

Ghost looked warily at the door, almost as if expecting a squad of sectoids to burst from it any moment.

"Daedalus said there were none, so most likely there aren't, but she hasn't responded to my knocking on her door and yelling yet," the Commander replied.

"Would you want me to try to break open the door, sir?"

 

<<Tag Weindhoven or Fleché >>

[Loonie]

<<Dammit! I have to hurry before being left out! Now that's a first in the roleplay section. >>

 

Martin was still going over the whole mission report and statistics that he was writing just now. He still couldn't believe what a hell zone it turned out to be with the Black Spear Ascadians using some form of advanced fusion blaster. Almost like a rocket launcher, but much more direct and also very devastating, being also the cause of the lost HWP which was blown to smithereens by a single blast from it. The truth was however that he wanted it that way. He could've sent Kappa Team to do it quickly but he just had to try out the HWP along the ride too. Well, now he would have to answer to the Commander for it since it happened under his watch.

 

"Still....I guess it's better machines than people" he thought out loud as he reasserted his view back on the computer. However the workload was tiresome. He slowly began to lose focus and decided to just lower his head onto his arms at his desk so that he could rest his eyes a bit. Sure enough they took a long 55 minute nap, overriding the conscious brain quickly.

 

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

 

"Where do we go?"

 

"Be careful over there. There are too many hostiles in that direction" was Kacur's voice as it echoed in darkness.

 

"Where do we go?" repeated a different voice from the previous as the darkness cleared to find Kacur in the middle of the desert running around and still shouting orders.

 

"Find some cover and then advance" he repeated.

 

"WHERE do we GO?" came another voice out of thin air.

 

"What?" Martin turned around towards the source of the voice only to find at least a dozen heads of the X-Com troops heading towards him whilst having tottally insane expressions on their faces shouting on the top of their lungs: "WHERE DO WE GO?!?!?!?"

 

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

 

*BANG*

 

Martin jumped up and fell out of his chair backwards, frightened stiff by now. He shook his head as he got slowly back up, still not too certain of what really was *real* but his brain slowly bringing him back into NAO.

 

*BANG*

 

"What the heck was that? Sounded like gunshots, but from where?" he asked himself as his mind began racing through the possibilities of what could've gone wrong. Perhaps the whole base had gone under alert and he somehow hadn't heard the alarm. He was quite a hard sleeper but not that hard most likely. The same noise then repeated itself over and over.

 

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG...*

 

Martin now quickly jumped up and began tracking the source of those shots. Running out of his office he looked down towards the personnel quarters and, already noticed the Commander and Ghost next to Terra's door and hearing their discussions only faintly but hearing quite loudly Ghost's proposition as he was nearing their position closer and closer:

 

"NO! Wait! You said no other aliens inside right? Just......hold on a minute. Don't go through yet."

 

He leant carefully at the thin metal door and put his ear against it, trying to listen for any sounds, hearing nothing except for soft crying. Trying to make sense of it all he slowly began deducing:

 

"Okay......I doubt there are any aliens inside or else there'd be a lot more ruckus by now in there and she'd not be like that...I would disadvise against breaking this thing down still sirs." he said as he turned to the other two.

 

"Wait a minute.....uhm. Just talk to her, try to get something out of her and I'll be right back." he concluded as he began to run off towards the armoury. Hopefully he could find his Psionic gear soon...

 

<<Tag all three. You're it >>

[Strong Bob]

Making his way through the Security Station, Scott was so filled with frustration that it took the form of verbal obscenities being spouted at random. The Avenger had docked just under an hour ago, and Scott was not happy with the mission results. Results that COULD have been different if not for the competance of a certain branch of NAO.

 

He was still in his combat gear, save for his helmet which he left aboard the Avenger. Instead of heading for his quarters, like he normally did after a mission, his current destination was the Engineering bay...

 

Scott eventually made it to the Engineering doors, and burst in without warning. Private Rallwell jumped nervously from her seat at Scott's entrance. She seemed to have been working on some welding or whatnot, but right now that was irrelevant.

 

Rallwell: S-Scott? What the hell are you doing here?

 

Without saying a word, Scott pulled one of his grenades from his belt, pulled the pin off, arming it, and tossed it on the floor in front of Rallwell. She jumped back from the live explosive, but was so instilled with surprise that she was unable to run away. A few moments passed as she awaited her impending doom... A few seconds... Two goddamn minutes pass!

 

Rallwell: (Finally realizing that the grenade wasn't going to explode) What the f**k kinda sick joke was that!?

 

Scott: (His face far too serious for a joke) THAT was one of the grenades taken fresh from the armory! Grenades that are supposed to cause a big explosion but apparently didn't!

 

Rallwell loosened up and picked up Scott's dead grenade. A little confused.

 

Scott: And oh yes, there are three others that didn't seem to want to explode either... One of which would've taken out a certain Ascadian holding a particularly deadly weapon that blew out one of the Avenger's engines! Which wasn't such a big deal anyway because it choked up as I was trying to ascend the damn thing in our retreat! I was throttling her at full for ten goddamn minutes at a verticle angle and we were STILL in stones throwing distance of the attacking Black Spear soldiers! Thank god the other's grenades were still functioning properly, or we may never have made it out alive!

 

Rallwell's exchanged between views of the grenade dud and Scott for a few moments.

 

Rallwell: I-I dunno. Most of the manufacturing is automated, I don't see how the grenades didn't explode... (She looked at Scott with a raised eyebrow) But the engines choking up like that is YOUR fault! You've piloted other craft before haven't you? The strain of you thrusting the ship forward against the planet's gravity so fast... I'm surprised you didn't blow the whole ship apart!

 

Scott: (Calming down, with the argument suddenly turned against him) Er... Uh... How did you... Look. If it wasn't for that damn grenade not going off the Avenger's engines would still be in one piece. And if the situation was at all worse, people could have lost their lives. I'm Just saying...

 

*BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM*

 

The sudden shots from the Personel Quarters instinctively caused Scott to draw his Laser Pistol and take cover beside the Engineering threshold.

 

Rallwell: What the hell was that!?

 

Scott: (Keeping his focus down the hallway) I don't know. Stay here... I'll come back to kill you later.

 

Scott slowly made his way down the corridor. Upon noticing Kacur run by at the end of the hall into Personnel, Scott picked up the pace until he saw him meet up with Weindhoven and Ghost.

 

Scott: (Confused at the gathering in front of Fléche's quarters) What the hell is going on over there!?

 

He holstered his laser pistol and, a little more relaxed, he walked over to the group by the door.

 

Kacur: Wait a minute.....uhm. Just talk to her, try to get something out of her and I'll be right back. (Runs off for the armory)

 

Scott approached Ghost and Weindhoven. He could here muffled crying from inside Terra's room.

 

Scott: What the hell's going on here? I heard shooting.

 

<<I just HAD to do that Engineering bit. >>

[Caster13]

<< Oi! That's a lot of attention o_o; >>

 

Terra stood in her poorly lit room, the empty pistol held by a finger in her right hand. She didn't move, there seemed no incentive to. Muffled cries and yelling came from her locked doorway. She stood there and listened to all the pointless voices outside her door, yammering and chattering aimlessly.

 

A muffled yell came from outside, "Corporal Terra Fléche, I order you to open this door" She turned towards the door and screamed back as loud as her lungs could let her.

 

"To hell with your orders! They all mean jack in this ass end of the galaxy" Anger trembled through her body but her tears didn't stop, instead they continued to fall down her cheeks as her body shuddered. Her grip on the pistol suddenly tightened. Her arm stiffened up. She was waiting for them to break through...

 

<< If you guys decide to break through the door, let me react first >>

[DragonHawk]

Rallwell stared as Scott left the engineering bay. Shaking her head, she sat down again. There were reports of all sorts of problems coming into engineering now. Necro and Ilyuschenko had been less than totally thrilled with the HWP and apparently the automated control board had shorted again. Now Scott with his talk of grenades and ship engines. And now gunshots in the base. Whomever was not obeying weapons discipline was going to get it.

 

She didn't know how much longer she could take being in the base. Everything seemed to be her fault, and it was starting to feel rough. Maybe it was time for her to go back into cryo and let McBannok run things; he was solid enough to do the work. If she ran away though, she knew she would regret it later. The question was, would she regret it enough to prevent her from requesting to be frozen?

 

Rallwell examined the grenade with one hand while she opened her desk drawer with the other. From the drawer she pulled her pistol out and put it on the desk, followed by a pistol magazine. Having taken out her emergency weapon, she focussed in on the grenade. The manufacture looked fine from the outside. It was all automated...

 

Pulling a piece of paper out, she jotted down some notes. Check materials with supplier. Check fuse assembly. Something nagged in her mind though. The probability of so many duds showing up at once was ridiculously low. Why were there so many now? Why the sudden change?

 

As the questions turned in her mind, she put the grenade down and picked up the pistol. She gave the slide a swift pull, and heard the satisfying k'chank of the slide return - bullet chambered. Hopefully Scott would be coming back with some at least decent news. No alien contacts would have sat just fine with her.

[Ion Mage]

<<Geez, we'll have a whole freaking crowd here by the time this is over >>

 

It was late at night. Or early in morning. It didnt matter, but most people should have been asleep even though they weren't. Kacur had to write a report, engineering had some work to do, scott didn't look like he was about to sleep anytime soon, etc. And Howardson had to write a speech about remembering where you are, and subsequently giving it too the whole team. Though he might have someone higher-rank than him, like perhaps Kacur or maybe even Weindhoven himself, to get the damned point across.

 

Howard was NOT pleased with how the whole team decided to quarrel together about what to do WITHOUT ACTUALLY DOING ANYTHING. That, and write a request to engineering to check up on the quality of the 'improved' grenades.

 

First things first; Howard, in his room of course, pulled a chair over to his daedelus terminal and started writing his speech there <<as a word document thing, not as a post on a message board>>.

 

"Well, its amazing that we stick together, alive or not. Just last mission, our stealth was compromised because we were too busy quarrelling with each other to actually do a damned thing. Are we politicians or are we soldiers? Its shameful that we nearly got killed because noone bothered to do anything! To be specific, everyone except the CO was thinking to get hidden and blame the guards' deaths on Black spear. Great plan, its what i would have done. but did ANY of you actually hide? Besides me, i noticed not a one of you whom actually even BOTHERED to follow their' own ideas! If you have an idea, don't forget to actually do it! That, and also remember your' current condition and position; the reason no one actually did anythign was because they were to busy quarrelling with each other... in plain sight of the enemy! I wouldnt have minded the quarrel if you all hadn't forgotten that one fact and decided to hide BEFORE arguing over these things! Think that over from here on, until the next mission, until after the next mission, UNTIL YOUR TOUR OF DUTY IS UP. Dis-missed"

 

There, the speech he would be giving sometime soon, maybe tommorrow or so. Whatever the case is, he now had ANOTHER report to write out to engineering. But before he could even open up the new file....

 

*BANG*

 

"What the f**k?" Howardson thought. "Gunfire? Here, already?!?! Now its a security breach we're suffering" He pulled out his laser pistol, and proceeded down the corridor to the source of the shot, checking around for hostiles, though the fact that he was out of his armor, and it was quite dark didn't help much to ease his anxiety.

 

When he arrived at the source, he found a whole group of people outside Terra's door.

 

Terra: "To hell with your orders! They all mean jack in this ass end of the galaxy"

 

Howardson: What the hells going on?

 

Weindhoven explained to him what was happening

 

Howardson: Hmm... with morale this low i may want to wait on that speech... but another might be just fine.

 

He went over to the door and brushed ghost aside.

 

Howardson: Terra, please know that if something is wrong we're willing to help you with it. I am listening, as i believe the commander, no, richter here is too. Suicide is not the solution, and neither is throwing tantrums. Please, if you are willing to tell us whats wrong, we'll try and fix it...

 

<<tag>>

[DragonHawk]

Lance Corporal Derrick Ko groaned as he woke up. The weeks of training and beating on Kabrons had started to be grueling... it was too much. Still, he could see some improvement in Kabron discipline, so he could probably stop that... in a couple of days. At least one of the Kabrons seemed to be co-operative. This Terra Fleche seemed to be of reasonable character despite her somewhat checkered background.

 

Other new personnel to him included Scott and Evander. Both seemed to have some discipline issues, but were fine soldiers otherwise. Kacur had left science as soon as Ko had came back, but other than that, Ko couldn't think of too many changes. Everyone looked the same... sure, Ilyuschenko had a metal leg and a whole lot of troopers had been killed, but the remaining ones were still timeless... It was comforting in a way.

 

At the sound of the gunshots, Ko rolled over awkwardly and grabbed for his issue pistol. Taking his pillow, he tossed it over to the other side of the room. It hit Ong with a whump. The pillow came sailing back a few seconds later.

 

"Gunshots. Get your pistol." Ong grunted from his side of the room.

 

"Don't be a moron, I've already got mine. What the hell, you guys have target practice in the rooms now? The walls aren't really that thick, I think I may start sleeping in a safer place, like the shooting range."

 

Both of them could hear the sounds of shouting in the hallway. Weindhoven. Ghost. Scott. Howardson. The whole damn base.

 

Ong paused as he got up, also listening intently. "I think it's under control. It doesn't sound like anyone's actually been shot... We're too busy to deal with this, we'll find out what's going on tomorrow evening when we are back from training."

 

"It's good not to be an officer, Sarge." Ko pulled the sheets over his head and tried to settle in a position that was not inherently paintful. He kept his pistol by his side all night, just in case.

[Caster13]

Loud, beating drums resonated throughout Terra's head. She could hear her own heartbeat pumping through the veins and arteries near her hears. She could feel her life beating through every inch of her body. She could feel the blood rush through her legs, her arms, her waist, torso, chest, face, mind and heart. All going in an endless circle, never reaching a goal.

 

She was still standing in her room staying deathly silent, as if hoping those outside her room would go away. It was dark now, the light fixture was damaged by one of her tantrum shots and short circuited now. Her room was an abyss which contained her anger, frustration, sorrow and panic. It was focused on the only surely existing thing in the universe, herself.

 

Not the solution? She mouthed to herself silently, tasting the salty tears near her lips. Of course it's not the solution, she thought to herself in the pitch dark. There are no solutions...

[Mouse Nightshirt]

"To hell with your orders! They all mean jack in this ass end of the galaxy"

 

Richter grimaced. Just what he needed, some stuck up Kabron bitch running around trying to shoot herself and geneally cause as much havoc as she possibly could...

 

"Come on Richter, you're being harsh on the girl," he thought, She's been through a lot and now is not the time to consider disciplining her.".

 

By this time, the entire frigging base surrounded the door, and the incessant babbling of everyone behind wondering what was going on wasn't exactly going to calm the overly stressed Fléche

 

Richter stopped banging the door, and shouted through.

 

"Terra, I just want to know, are you hurt in any way? Do you need any kind of medical attention?"

 

Silence

 

"You idiot Richter," he told himself, "If she's trying to kill herself she's hardly going to tell you of all people that she is alright." Richter had seen this kind of thing before back on Luna 1, where a particular female soldier tried to commit suicide because the ruddy Kabron Pirates tortured her husband to death. "And she thinks she has ot tough!" thought Richter to himself.

 

He turned to the band of people behind him. "What should we do then? Breaking down the door isn't exactly going to calm her down is it? Any suggestions?"

[Loonie]

Martin ran as fast as he could, quickly navigating towards the door of the Armoury and pressing the button to open the door, beckoning it to slide open faster until it finnaly allowed him access into the room. He rushed inside and checked the special rack which contained three Psi-Amps at the moment along with a single Psi-Probe at a table nearby the rack. He quickly leapt towards the small black device and after grabbing it by the handle headed back to the door, his mind already going through whatever could be going on inside Fleche's room right now.

 

As he neared the door he noticed that the amount of people was starting to mount considerably by now, chattering and discussing a bit about what could be the situation inside. As he got close to that crowd he shouted right after Wiendhoven asked the question: "Allright! Enough! Please! Some quiet"

 

Upon that the team slowly went down in the noise volume, though they did still whisper to each other about the situation. Martin in the meantime ignored the others and pointed the Psi-Probe towards the general direction where Fleche would likely be inside her room, if he could actually predict that. He then pressed the single red button next to the screen on the device and began focusing his thoughts through the device.

 

--------

 

Emptiness.....was all he could sense for a moment as his thoughts travelled across another dimension. Suddenly he felt a strong concentration to his left.....many things were there, vibrant, moving, constantly changing and alive. But he ignored them since he knew what they were and weren't his target. Instead he kept going forwards. Somewhere in there was the entity he seeked. Emptyness once again resumed with nothing....and nothing......a faint feeling....to the right maybe......and as he went towards that direction it got stronger. He headed towards it in full speed now, feeling the trauma and anxiety as he got closer and closer to it, having it slowly begin to overwhelm his senses...it seemed like madness...maybe it was...

 

--------

 

The others kept chatting to themselves whilst some of the people began to notice Martin as he stood there with his eyes closed and the Psi-Probe in his hands, wondering if he was still allright. Suddenly he gasped and opening his eyes he took a step backwards before breathing heavily and turning slowly to the Commander, his mouth open already before he began speaking:

 

"I...I'm going to put this VERY mildly in two words: Not Good. What we need is someone who she can trust to talk to. Has anyone become better friends with her around here? Anyone at all?"

 

The people were silent. Martin looked around the faces in desperation, since he knew that the only one she really talked to was most likely himself, but he wished SO much that someone else could do the job of convincing her for him since he was scared shitless to do it. But no one responded like Terra was his or her friend. Martin sighed deeply and putting his two hands on his face he sighed again before continuing:

 

"Okay.......allright......f**k....."

 

He slowly moved over to the door and began speaking towards it in as neutral a voice as he could muster. This was damn delicate and he knew it. One wrong thing said and she could impale or maybe just shoot herself in case she still had some bullets lying around:

 

"Terra,...it's me Martin. May I come in please? I promise I won't do anything and the others won't either." he said in a half neutral and half soft voice. He just couldn't stop the softness and he worried that he might be soft at the wrong moment.....his mind began going over so many thing that could happen from this point, his body responding to these thoughts with severe sweating. What would the morning light on Arkunis IV bring? The corpse of Terra Fleche.....he hoped not. But did she?

[Caster13]

Kacur's voice was soothing, somewhat. But still Terra didn't budge. She continued to stand tense and stiff. Wishing that nothing existed in the darkness.