Turn 1. A Home Coming

The sixth mission. The marines are faced with a new horror that affects the mind and body.
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pants
Chief Warrant Officer 5
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Re: Turn 1. A Home Coming

Post by pants » Wed Nov 11, 2015 8:50 am

Following the lead of the other marines Terence headed to the showers, where he shit, showered and shaved before getting dressed in his fatigues. His next stop was the mess.

He loaded up a tray with stuff and almost bumped into his squad leader Corporal Pitt.

"Uh sorry about that corporal! I'm eager to get some of this chow in my facehole, cyro-sleep don't agree with me. You got any advice for me?" he asked his squad leader.

<Tag Dirk>

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Corporal Hicks
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Re: Turn 1. A Home Coming

Post by Corporal Hicks » Wed Nov 11, 2015 5:52 pm

pants wrote:"Uh sorry about that corporal! I'm eager to get some of this chow in my facehole, cyro-sleep don't agree with me. You got any advice for me?" he asked his squad leader.
Eric looked at the new marine. He tapped Morse with his elbow and said something under his breath and laughed.
ImageSgtMaj. Danny Sykes - Platoon NCO
USCM Special Forces Recon Team
Serial Number: D26/TQ6.3.48412E9
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Morse
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Re: Turn 1. A Home Coming

Post by Morse » Wed Nov 11, 2015 6:51 pm

Deciding that he was not going to vomit, Morse stayed standing where he was. There was a bit of sweat on his forehead, and he did seem a bit paler then his normal self. Those however were normal for him coming out of hypersleep. So when the new Sergeant walked over to him and noticed his disposition, Morse was not surprised.

Though he was right on the money with every accusation, Morse had become accustomed to blatantly lying about his drinking, even as he was doing it in front of people. But when dealing with new NCO’s there was no telling whether or not he was going to look at it like Dugan and start slamming demerits in his file, or Dirk and just completely look the other way.

”Was rainin’ back home for I boarded.” Morse hazed out, keeping himself steady. ”Rain drops musta frozen on me” He gestured towards his dewy looking face in a feeble attempt at a joke, trying to hold himself together.

< Tag Abdulov

Hearing Dirk pipe up at him with the usual fresh-pop jokes was good. Hearing normalcy was something that Morse needed more of. They were never terribly funny, but having them made was better then not.

”Used to keep mine right here.” Morse said tapping on the upper portion of his now clearly mechanical left leg. ”Guess ems wasn’t regulation though, since the ‘bonesaws’ threw it out.”

< Tag Dirk

It was a very dark joke. Morse was still acclimating to his position, and while he had been dealing with subordinates for the last year, these ones were considered his equals. So while lower ranks who did not know him never heard such things, nor dared to make jokes about it, Morse figured if anyone was going to start making fun of his situation, it may as well have been him.

Morse slowly trudged out of cryo with everyone, as though operating on a strictly “School of Fish” mentality, and handled some prep, just in time to go to get the food. Hearing Sal talk about the fact that the coffee was unfit for human consumption, Morse moved passed him.

”The fuck do you care? Your ass aint even human.” Morse commented as he slowly moved past. He recalled Sal’s appearance often getting jokes made about his inhuman look, and Morse was never one not boost himself up at the expense of others.

< Tag Sal

He did not answer the point on whether or not they’d been there. Everyone knew Morse hated the colonies, so the idea of him having been to the tiny installations on Pluto were fairly self explanatory.

He finally was standing in line waiting for his opportunity to grab food, staring off at nothing, drifting in his own thoughts when he was tapped by Roberts, their other smartgunner. He muttered about the marines name, who stood not far from them. It caused Morse to give an airy laugh through his nostrils.

”Hey his ass wants to open doors for me all the time, that’s fine.” Morse replied, though not quite as silently as Roberts had been. He was definitively audible. ”He wants to take the bullets shot at me too, that’ll be good too.” Morse’s joke was a bit rough, but like many he needed to see new people prove themselves before he gave them an ounce of credit.

< Tag Roberts
Image-SSG Allen Morse - Squad Leader
-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - M4 Pistol - Med Kit
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Pale Rider
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Re: Turn 1. A Home Coming

Post by Pale Rider » Thu Nov 12, 2015 3:04 am

”Was rainin’ back home for I boarded.” Morse hazed out, keeping himself steady. ”Rain drops musta frozen on me” He gestured towards his dewy looking face in a feeble attempt at a joke, trying to hold himself together.
Abdulov, looked at one of his two Smart gunners standing before him obviously with a hang over. The man's records spoke volumes and knowing what he had recently gone through he didn't blame him for tying on a few. However, regulations were regulations.

"Morse, that isn't raindrops. You and I both know you are hung over. I am going to let it slide this time only because I know you have gone through a horrific experience. But this better be the final time that I catch you hung over while on active duty. Now go hit the showers and get yourself some coffee."

<Tag Morse>

"Okay, ladies and gentleman, get your gear in order and grab some grub. Roll Call is at 0200. Squad leaders, I expect your squads to have everything in order. The LT will be doing a full inspection. We have three hours remaining before we make landing and take over the duty at the base."

<Tag All Easy Eights>
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Quicksilver
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Re: Turn 1. A Home Coming

Post by Quicksilver » Fri Nov 13, 2015 6:09 pm

"Sir." Mark responded as the NCO finished his orders. With the shuffling step of a body stiff from non-movement, the tech made his way down the hallway to the strategically placed showers at the end. Cranking the shower on hot, he remembered the old Marine joke that they added warm showers to fix crappy cryo tubes. He didn't argue – his mind came out of cryo just fine, but the body was a different story.

A few minutes later a warmer, more mobile Mark walked into the mess with his eyes still blocked out with the sunglasses. He'd learned the hard way on his first couple transits that light sensitivity was the last part to go for him. He headed directly for the coffee machine, grabbing a stool on the way over. Planting the stool in front of the machine, he reached into his shirt and produced a small toolkit, which he rolled out on the small bit of counter space next to the machine. Within a few seconds he had the side maintenance panel off and was clipping his tablet into the diagnostics and calibration port.

Standing up from his work, he grabbed a cup from the rack next to the machine and placed it in the dispenser. After carefully centering it, he selected the "Latte" program from the override he'd written into the tablet and stepped back. The automat coffee machine hissed and clanked in protest to the nonstandard commands, but after a few seconds spit out a thick coffee and steamed milk. He lifted the mug out and took a slow sip.

"Coffee Machine's ready." He announced to the rest of the team before he headed to find some food to go with it.

<Tag coffee drinkers>
Pvt. Mark Giosso
3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
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