Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

The fourth mission
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Obi
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Obi » Fri Jun 27, 2014 4:09 am

OOC (Sorry all, away on exercise with work at short notice. May I join back in?)

Cheers

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CPL Mike "Obi" O'Brien
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maxvale76
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by maxvale76 » Fri Jun 27, 2014 2:27 pm

As the Snakefighter hovered over the roof with an open door for the marines; Samantha came over and shoved Duncan's body in and then helped Giosso lift/toss Louis' body in as well.

Looking at Mark; she motioned and said; "Your turn Giosso"; and helped him onboard. She then turned to Dirk and yelled out; "Alright Top! We're all accounted for and getting the hell outta dodge; let's go!"

Knowing that Dirk would insist on being last; she hauled herself onboard the Snakefighter and gave a quick, heartfelt silent prayer of thanks that she and most of the platoon had gotten out alive. This was quickly followed by another solemn prayer for those of the souls of the fallen.

She put a hand out and helped Dirk climb on and after that; she found a seat and collapsed into it; exhausted and aching from her burns.

Hearing Boothe's voice over the comm; she cracked a small grin at the knowledge that the other member of her squad was still alive and she responded with; "Sal; this is Sam. The Top and Giosso are okay; I'm a bit singed like you.....Duncan and Louis are KIA and their bodies are onboard for proper burial later. How's it looking for you guys on the APC?"

<Tag Dirk, Giosso>

<Tag Boothe and marines on APC>
CPL Samantha "Sam" Hall

M41A Pulse Rifle

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MarcusOTerra
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by MarcusOTerra » Fri Jun 27, 2014 2:56 pm

Sal cocked his head as Sam's voice came over the comm channel, he opened the frequency back up as he surveyed the survivors.

"Sam, Booth: I suppose everyone whose 'left' is on the APC." He looked at the screen, "except for Creed and Wilks." It wasn't to hammer home that four members of the team had died, it was more as a matter of clarity.

"Nothing on us but dust and sweat as far as I can see, but I suppose I'll sort that out at base." He yawned, intent on cat napping through the ride home, "Now I know why there's so many medics in this outfit," He added, off comms and under his breath, "You've got to keep a few spares around."

He leaned back in the seat and let the rocking and bumping of the roaring APC lull him into a lucid torpor of smooth women in oil and latex.
Salazar 'Salamander' Boothe: 'Private', 'Medic', 'Marine'.
Load out: As Turn Two of Watch Dog
Pulse Rifle: Clip loaded +4 on person.
1 Field Surgery Kit
3 First aid Kits
4 smoke grenades
Breather Mask.

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Dirk Pitt
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Dirk Pitt » Sat Jun 28, 2014 8:23 pm

maxvale76 wrote:As the Snakefighter hovered over the roof with an open door for the marines; Samantha came over and shoved Duncan's body in and then helped Giosso lift/toss Louis' body in as well.

Looking at Mark; she motioned and said; "Your turn Giosso"; and helped him onboard. She then turned to Dirk and yelled out; "Alright Top! We're all accounted for and getting the hell outta dodge; let's go!"

Knowing that Dirk would insist on being last; she hauled herself onboard the Snakefighter and gave a quick, heartfelt silent prayer of thanks that she and most of the platoon had gotten out alive. This was quickly followed by another solemn prayer for those of the souls of the fallen.

She put a hand out and helped Dirk climb on and after that; she found a seat and collapsed into it; exhausted and aching from her burns.
<Tag Dirk, Giosso>

<Tag Boothe and marines on APC>
Dirk kept on guard as Sam and Giosso loaded the bodies of the two dead Marines on to the hovering Snakefighter. He hadn't known Louis very well, but he should have. It was his resopnsibility as Top to know each and every marine under his command. As for Duncan, He hadn't liked the man. He was not a good Marine and Dirk did not try to hide that fact. Still, the man didn't deserve the death he had received at the hands of the young queen.

"Roger than Sam. On my way" Dirk said as he backed away from the door and towards the open hatch of the ship.

Taking Sam's outstretched hand Dirk climbed into the ship's cargo bay. "This is Pitt. We're all on board and we;re ready to go. Stay above the APC and we'll guide them in"
<Tag Snakefighter pilot>

Walking passed the exhausted Marines Dirk made his way to the showers on board and turned them on. Sliding down the wall he sat on the floor of the shower and let the water, that ran red with the blood of Duncan, hit him and make it's way to the drain. He pulled out his K-Bar and looked at the blade for a moment. Then he puled the razor sharp blade across his forearm four times making four thin, deep cuts beside the numerous scars that made their way up his arm.

"One for each man" He said looking at the blood seep from the fresh cuts. It was something he had done from the first time he had lost a man in combat. He did it to feel. Feel pain, loss, the sorrow of the dead. Or maybe he did it because he was crazy. Whatever the reason, it was done.

Wet, but cleaner, Dirk walked to where Morse was being treated. "You look just like I feel" He said to his old friend.
<Tag Morse>
Cpl Dirk Pitt
First squad leader

Gear
Pulse Rifle w/ 4 grenades, 8 canister shells
M1911 Colt .45 caliber Sidearm
Smoke Grenade x2
KBAR Combat Knife
Portable Welder
Ithaca Shotgun

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Zippo lighter
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Morse
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Morse » Sat Jun 28, 2014 9:48 pm

Learning of the men they lost did not bother Morse so terribly. He was becoming increasingly desensitized to the whole thing that was death. Of the ones that died, the one he knew the best was Duncan, and the two had never gotten along. They rarely spoke to each other, and the few times they did it was a civil hostility at best. As for the others, Creed, Louis, and Wilks, they had all arrived so recently Morse did not even know them apart. Wilks perhaps best, and though he was his first in field casualty, just given what they were went through Morse was glad it wasn’t more of them.

There was an old saying for the military, that it was better to die in your first week then to get close to the end. And for Marines that was still a plausible reality. Morse did not really know them, and they didn’t really know him. In his mind it was almost no different then if they got reassigned. The idea that they had families and friends were not something he wanted to think on or deal with. As far as he was concerned Wilks didn’t even die due to his order. If he had come with them, Morse would have left someone else. And if Morse had stayed he could have been killed himself.

He knew that it was a horrible way to think on it. To just not even consider it or feel anything about it. But the only alternative was to flood yourself with all of what had happened. And doing so would be far more harmful then good.

Spending years in the business of death was turning Morse into exactly what the Corps wanted, but also with the expected side effects. Devaluing of human life and an increasingly cynical outlook on everything were all that he was getting on top of a great deal of experience and skill in the art of battlefield prowess. He was good at what he did, but was getting worse at dealing with what normal people did. But then again, normal people weren’t what the corps was looking for. By all accounts the four dead marines were fairly normal people with not much that stood out about them, and they were all about to make long trips home in boxes.

Dirk came up to Morse, who was getting a more regulation fix to his arm. Morse heard Dirk’s small joke, and Morse shrugged. ”Any a them plasta-bombs you put all over that 242 we figured on chargin’ in a gone off'n I may be more inclined to believe ya.” Morse said gesturing to the burns on Dirks body. The fire bomb trick they did really did a number on them all.

Morse gave a small sigh and took his flask up from his waist. It just had whiskey in it this time. And in a small way, which Morse would likely only divulge to Dirk, Morse leveled with him. ”Were lucky we walked on this one.” Morse said somberly taking a drink. ”Took four deaths where it shoulda been a total. We gotsa get better prep’n’plan next time, otherwise it’ll be us getting’ cut into someone elses arm.” Morse said gesturing to the arm he knew Dirk cut into for the men they lost.

He offered Dirk the flask, knowing that he had the best whiskey for a lightyear, and that he could use a drink for sure.

< Tag Dirk
-SGT Allen Morse - Medic
-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - Med Kit

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Dirk Pitt
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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Dirk Pitt » Sun Jun 29, 2014 7:04 pm

Dirk half fell into the seat beside Morse as he looked at his arm after Morse mentioned it. Taking the flask Morse offered Dirk took a drink. As the whisky filled him with warmth he considered what Morse had said. It was true, all true. By all rights he, and the entire platoon with him, should be dead right now. They had been split up. Dirk, the scouts, Sam and Giosso were trapped on a upper landing with a queen. Even after they had managed killed it, Dirk had already been sprayed with acid that should have took his left arm and then slammed into a wall while being burned by the heat from a fire bomb. It was only the blood of a fellow Marine covering his body that had diluted the acid enough to save his arm and blind luck that his life once again. Even after that they still had to fall back to the roof and call for an air evac while two more Marines were ripped apart on the ground.

"I know." He said softly as the entire operation played out before his eyes. "We got complacent and took chances that we never would have even a year ago. Tell you the truth, I didn't think we were going to walk away from this one." He would have never said that to anyone else. As Top he had to be an example to the rest of the men. Make them believe that he could lead them out of anything, but Morse had been with him long enough that he had earned the truth. Good or bad.
<Tag Morse>

Handing the flask back to Morse Dirk dug his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket along with the old battered zippo he carried with him. Lighting the cigarette he leaned his head back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes.

"I'll tell you this though. This is not going to happen again."
<Tag Morse>
Cpl Dirk Pitt
First squad leader

Gear
Pulse Rifle w/ 4 grenades, 8 canister shells
M1911 Colt .45 caliber Sidearm
Smoke Grenade x2
KBAR Combat Knife
Portable Welder
Ithaca Shotgun

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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Morse » Mon Jun 30, 2014 1:31 am

Morse shrugged at most of what Dirk had to say. The reasons didn’t really seem to be carelessness to Morse. It seemed to have more to do with things that were hopelessly beyond there control. Information that they did not have. A squad’s worth of people that went from Boot camp to the front line. Lack of equipment capacity. It was all a mess stacked against their favor.

”I figured I would at least.” Morse said to the idea of them not making it out with a slight smile. ”Though that was quick to look like less of an option every couple minutes there.” Morse was always the cynical observer of most situations.

”Still though. Aint mucha shit we coulda done.” Morse observed. ”We been sittin’ on this sweaty shit rock fer months. Where its either nothin’ or everythin’ commin’ at us. N’ were ‘vestigatin’ some buildin’ in fuckin’ no where filled with bugs we didn’t know was there?” Morse continued and took a drink. ”Not but fer mentionin’ the swarm commin’ at us from down hill? Personally fer me I blame the equipment.” Morse said honestly. ”We’da brought come in a Conestoga n’ not this tiny piece a shit, we’da got better sensor coverage’n’da enough big bombs to reduce that big swarm ‘fore it got within’ fifty miles.”

Morse adjusted himself in the seat and stretched his back, giving a small crack. He then cocked his head to the side and it too gave a slight snap. He chased the stretching down with another drink from his canteen of whiskey. ”But I aint worried.” Morse pointed out. ”Crazy’s this shit seems to get… its all just shit.” Morse said dismissively. ”One op yer droppin’ in under fire with Cheyanne’s bustin’ to flames all around n’ the next yer crawlin’ through Yorker sewers chasin’ n’ asshole whats just got a pistol who can’t shoot the sand if he’s standin’ in the desert.” Morse reminisced on some of their old missions. ”Some’s rough, some aint, but the shit just keeps goin’… n’ so do we.” Morse said with a slight toasting motion and drinking a bit more.

Though Morse had never been a Corps worshiping marine, he still recognized their necessity in the galaxy, and knew the job description very well. While the mission had been a close one, they still made it out. It wasn’t their first close call, or even the most horrifying as far as Morse was concerned. It just fit into a list of them and would not stand out any more then the others other then the fact that it was the most recent.

< Tag Dirk
-SGT Allen Morse - Medic
-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - Med Kit

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Re: Turn 7: Out of the kitchen into the proverbial fire!

Post by Quinn » Mon Jun 30, 2014 9:37 pm

Meanwhile, on the APC...

The vehicle bounced along as it rapidly left the combat zone, to be later retrieved by the Snakefighter at a mostly secure landing zone

Quinn, still sitting at the command console, removed his hat and set it on the keys in front of him. The gold bar on the hat shone dully as he stared at it. He knew that there might be a xenos presence at the tower, but he hadn't made the assumption that it would be in strength like this, which he should have. And for his simple error of not thinking thoroughly had cost the lives of four Marines. And once again, his usual luck held and he got through without a scratch.

Sixtus put his head in his hand, gently rubbing at his forehead and temples. A headache had sprung up with a wave of despair that threatened to overcome him. He'd frozen in the tower, acted like any other Marine and fighting the xenos when he ought to have been thinking, leading them. He activated the comm system, as he knew some words had to be said.

"Snakefighter, pick us up at the base and take us back to the Corporate base." his voice sounded tired with a slight note of depression. "Well done Marines, now lets get the hell outta here."

The APC roared over the hill and headed for the firebase with all haste.
Current Gear
M41A Mk. 2 Pulse Rifle, suppressed and advanced sight
M4A4 .45 ACP caliber Sidearm, Suppressed
Combat Knife
K52 Medical Kit
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