USCMRPG

Colson was trying not to make a mess of what he was eating when Morse piped up about his missing teeth;

Morse looked over at Colson. ”Aint they got nothin’ to give ya fer front chomp?” Morse asked.

"Gateway." Colson replied simply. Referring to him having to wait till they got back off duty before the corps would deal with a 'cosmetic' issue as it had been labelled. Sod him being able to talk or eat apparently.

"Maybe the docs mixed up his order with the ship dog's?" He made a weak jab at the conversation. "Wouldn't it suck to get a Schnauzer's chompers?"

Colson replied to that by turning and giving his squad mate a big toothless grin that held no humour. That's when the change in gravity caused his tray and Sal to slide away from him. Dropping his spoon he stood up as the ship steadied and snatched up his gun whilst moving to a wall with a rail on.

Roberts smiled back at Sam. He liked his new squadleader so far.

When the ship lurched he closed his eyes for a second until the feeling in his stomach left. He had barely started eating, but duty called. He shoved the rest of his bread roll into his mouth and stood up. Speaking with his mouth full, he said, "Here we go." He walked over and picked up his smartgun.

”Gotta love the corps medical package.” Morse replied rolling his eyebrows. Of course they did have access to better medical care then ninety percent of humanity, even they were stuck on waiting lists for a while. They could get prosthetic robotic limbs easier then most people, and get patched up quickly. But anything beyond strictly functional issues were pretty slow. Still they were glad to get the help when they could, even though that help may arrive very late. Though there was always the ever present danger of sustaining a wound that was far too serious to even think of getting care that was beyond a proper funeral.

The shift in the gravity was awkward at first. Like everyone Morse was initially sure what is was. He just knew he felt something that was reminiscent of a minor earthquake, but smoother. Feeling some of his items move slightly, Morse gathered that it was the ship moving, and likely was whatever had them on warning.

He felt his M56 Smartgun move under his boot slightly, and he pressed down hard. ”Where you goin’ dumb bitch?” Morse asked the weapon rhetorically. ”You aint runnin’ no where till I’m done eatin’.” Morse concluded.

Morse then decided to address everyone present. ”Relax assholes!” He called out loudly since they seemed to be getting antsy. ”If it was somethin’ serious you’d be seein’ the warnin’ lights n’ hearin’ screamin on the com.” Morse stated matter of factly. ”We all done shit landins ‘fore’… least most a us have.” Morse quickly amended. ”Figure ya’ll should eat while ya got the chance.” Morse finished, hoping he wasn’t the only one who was immediately feeling the determined call to a crisis that wasn’t yet even established as being so yet.

< Tag Everyone

He braced himself at the table which was sealed to the floor. Keeping one foot firmly on his disconnected Smartgun, a hand holding the table, and the other wrapped around his fork, balancing his tray between his forearms Morse continued to eat, though at a more rapid pace.

”We’ll worry about when ems tells us theres somethin’ we can do ‘bout it.” Morse mentioned to his squad. In his opinion there was no point in getting worked up over anything resembling a crash landing or weapons firing at the ship since there was literally nothing the marines in the mess hall could do about it.

< Tag Second Squad

Sixtus smirked, wondering if Pope understood the joke or the universe decided to give him the proper response with the speed of the oncoming vessel. The news of the weapon lock was nothing to joke about with, but it meant one thing most definitively. They were using radar, as the warning chime sounded in the cockpit and Pope sent the ship into a roll. The tone was solid, indicating that they had a lock but no weapon was bound towards them yet.

Sixtus slid into the seat behind Pope and locked himself in. "Pope, get me a lock for an ARAD."

The A-RAD, or Anti-Radiation missile was a development up from the old HARM package in the twentieth, keeping up with modern technology while still serving the same purpose. Simply put, it homed in on enemy targeting emissions, forcing them to shut them down or be slapped around by a heavy warhead. The newer variants weren't just radar, but also LIDAR seeking as well.

Quinn flicked a switch on the comm board, linking him to the ship's speakers. "Marines, lock yourselves in, asshole wants to dogfight."

Quinn wrote:Quinn flicked a switch on the comm board, linking him to the ship's speakers. "Marines, lock yourselves in, asshole wants to dogfight."

Roberts hesitated when Morse told them to relax. But when he heard Lieutenant Quinn's order to lock themselves in, he continued to his smartgun and picked it up. He walked back to the others. "Should we just stay here and hang on, or go strap in somewhere?" he asked to the room at large.

<Tag Anyone>

Pope juked and dived as the incoming vessel sought to make target lock on the Snakefighter. Then the sound all on board dreaded to hear sounded out. At first Sixtus and Pope failed to hear it over the groaning of the vessel's structure as Pope ran it through it's paces. A low whine filled the air drawing their attention onto screen.

"Target lock acquired on engines sir," Pope replied, stating the obvious.

<Actions>

Quinn wrote: Quinn flicked a switch on the comm board, linking him to the ship's speakers. "Marines, lock yourselves in, asshole wants to dogfight."

Dirk had been sipping his coffee as the ship moved and the gravity shifted around him. The evasive maneuvers were known to every Marine in the chow hall b y these small indicators. Hearing Quinn's orders Dirk thought about what the best course of action was. They could strap themselves into the squad bay, but if the ship were holed by the enemy ship's weapons they could b e trapped or worse. He would have to hope that the snakefighter was maneuverable enough to evade fire.

"You heard the man people. Squadleaders, get your people to their drop seats and strap in. Make sure you are all ready for action. This ship to ship crap won't last for long. After that We'll be moving in and securing the enemy ship. Move out, on the double." Dirk said as he dumped his coffee.
<Tag Marines>

Walking over to Oksana and her husband as she spoke to Sam. "You and your husband get yourselves strapped in with us in the ready room. It's one of the most secure places on the ship. Once Quinn gives the order to go we'll figure out a place for you two." Dirk said quickly, but softer than he spoke to the Marines. "
<Tag Oksana>

"We're on our way sir. Just give the word and we're ready for a fight."
<Tag Quinn>

Dirk Pitt wrote: "You and your husband get yourselves strapped in with us in the ready room. It's one of the most secure places on the ship. Once Quinn gives the order to go we'll figure out a place for you two." Dirk said quickly, but softer than he spoke to the Marines. "

"Thank you, Dirk," Oksana nodded once and put her hands on Dmitri's chair, moving it away from the table and turning it around. "Lead the way."

It was noisy from the sounds of alarm and engines, but it wasn't too loud for Oksana to hear Dmitri mutter, "Вы бы сидеть на его член, если он привел вас к нему, не так ли?"

Without missing a step, she leaned down and whispered into his ear. "Зачем мне обманывать, когда ты самый большой хуй во Вселенной?' She kissed his earlobe before he could reply and she straightened. "Which way?" she asked Dirk.

Pale Rider wrote: "Target lock acquired on engines sir," Pope replied, stating the obvious.

<Actions>

Quinn grinned. As a child, he'd loved the idea of dogfighting in two small, maneuverable craft. He was having fun, even if it was scary as hell. "Fox three." he said, for the benefit of the cockpit recorders as he stabbed at a button. What appeared to be a mote of light lanced out from the Snakefighter, arcing towards the enemy vessel, which appeared to be burning hard to turn into the missile's path, hoping to get inside before it could arc into them.

Dirk Pitt wrote:"We're on our way sir. Just give the word and we're ready for a fight."
<Tag Quinn>

"Good copy Sergeant." Quinn acknowledged. He looked down and saw that they were now close enough to have a high scan fidelity. "Pope, get me any info you can on the bandit. Vessel type, IFF, registry, whatever you can get me."

Dirk Pitt wrote:"You heard the man people. Squadleaders, get your people to their drop seats and strap in. Make sure you are all ready for action. This ship to ship crap won't last for long. After that We'll be moving in and securing the enemy ship. Move out, on the double." Dirk said as he dumped his coffee.
<Tag Marines>

"Yes Sir!" Eric said. He left the room and strapped his smartgun into its spot in the wall by his seat. Then he sat down and strapped himself in. He felt his combat nerves kicking in again. His body hadn't even recovered from cryo yet. He checked his VP-70 and made sure it was ready to use if needed.

eyeball grabbed his gear, paused, shoved another warm slice of something that was probably not meat but was label beef, then headed off towards drop positions.

"moo mever mow when nhe mext mood might be" he mumbled as Colson raised an eyebrow.
as he half walked half balanced his way towards the drop stations he managed to gulp a Glucolyte, an electrolyte based drink that promoted fast hydration with a huge sugar hit, topped off with a caffeine boost. the sugar hit would start in about 20 mins, the caffeine shortly after, and hydration was always critical after cryo.

he swallowed as he arrived on station, locked his weapon in place and then checked his equipment was all attached to himself then sat down in his allotted place.

Obi followed the rest of the marines into the messing area. Having secured himself a brew he wedged himself up against a bulkhead. Sipping his tea slowly, Obi listened to the banter of his platoon mates around him. Quinn's voice blared a warning from the ships main broadcast and Obi felt his stomach drop as the vessel started to go evasive against the enemy ship. Wrapping an arm around one of the pipes running up along the bulkhead Obi secured himself the best he could as his stomach dropped the other way. Closing his eyes he sipped his tea, thankful he had a no spill brew mug. The gravity started to shift rapidly as the gravity deck plates tried in vain to keep with the rapid pace of the ships evasive flight path.

It was incomprehensible. He could not wrap his head around it at all. How was it possible that every time he said anything, the immediate contradiction seemed to happen? These questions went through Morse’s head as he suddenly had a dark, spiteful expression blanket his face after hearing Quinn order everyone to lock in.

”Fffffffffffffuck.” Morse muttered, barely able to believe it. He began to quickly shovel food into his mouth. ”Rrrrrr-right.” Morse said with a mouthful of food right after Dirk ordered them to move. ”Lesh go.” Morse ordered. He cleaned off most of the food into his mouth in a very quick order. By most standards he ate very quickly, leaving very little behind on the tray.

Tag 2nd Squad

He pushed his M56 Smartgun out from under the table with his foot, picked it up, and reattached it to his harness. He then moved over to prep zone, knowing that was the best place since it had a section to secure the marines as well as quick access to the loading bay.

”Yo Dirk!” Morse called out. ”Morse called out ”Seems like yer babies mama done found us n’ wants her back child support payouts!” Morse joked at their situation.

< Tag Dirk

Sam had barely managed to keep from spilling her drink of not-quite-iced-tea on herself when the ship lurched into motion and then the insanity of the situation pretty much took over and she barely had time to think or get a word in; but marines were marines; and it was in no-time-flat that everyone was strapped in; many with food and drinks still in hand/mouth.

She had made sure to sit next to Oksyana; ready to help her out with Dmitri if needed; but it wasn't; so she just made sure her own squad was strapped in. She closed her eyes and silent said a brief prayer that they wouldn't all end up as floating wreckage in space and then snaped back to the here and now and heard the jokes coming from Morse and Dirk and couldn't help but smile and share a look with the good Doctor that silenty said; 'MEN'.


OOC: Correct me if I'm wrong Pale; but Quinn....I think the tone-lock was the other ship getting a lock on US; not the other way around....but I hope I'm wrong and you're right!

Morse wrote:”Yo Dirk!” Morse called out. ”Seems like yer babies mama done found us n’ wants her back child support payouts!” Morse joked at their situation.

Eric couldn't help but chuckle. "Hey Sergeant Pitt, you gonna take that crap from him?" he said in a tone that made it obvious he was joking.

<Tag Dirk/Morse>