USCMRPG

Date: June 26, 2189
Time: 07:42:19
Location: Hidden facility perimeter, Capua.

The recon team took cover at the tree-line and peered at the structure. Some of them were crouched behind jungle bushes while the rest laid against the lip of a small ditch. “Sierra 6, this is Romeo 12, we have reached our objective, over.” said Sergeant Perez into his comms.

“I copy, Romeo 12, observe and investigate before making a move. I want hourly reports on your situation, over,” replied the voice of Lieutenant Nelson over the comms.

As ordered, the recon team remained hidden and watched the structure. Morse deployed two teams of two to skirt the tree-line on either side of the building. Upon reaching the far side, they reported nothing notable about the structure. After about 20 minutes, the sound of thunder shook the air and they felt the all-too-familiar pelting jungle rain driving them down against the ground. On this planet it didn’t drizzle, it was either dry or it was pelting fucking rain down on your head.

The recon team uttered bitter curses at the rain and hunkered down a little. Those who possessed rain ponchos or makeshift tarp ponchos put them on. Then, the marines on watch noticed something. Quinn and Sokolova were laying down, huddled under the same scrap of navy tarp and watching the structure. A slanted section of wall opened up, the door was seamless when shut. After a moment they saw two men exiting the door, carrying a large transparent object the size of a bathtub with no apparent strain. Setting it down, they returned to the structure and soon exited again with a second object of similar design.
(Actions)

Sixtus was laying amongst the grass, his spotter, Sokolova next to him. Sgt Cano’s rifle lay in Quinn’s hands, braced against against his assault pack with the shadows obscuring the barrel of the rifle along with the rest of their position. Sixtus had taken the opportunity to obscure himself with local vegetation, breaking up the outline of his own body. The tarp, also covered in similar vegetation, made for a fairly convincing hide. However, Sixtus was not trained as a scout-sniper. He was an accomplished Marine, but there was a lot to be desired.

He moved his rifle slightly, oh so slightly, training the weapon on the two men in the clearing and what they were carrying.

”Two men...” Sixtus whispered to Sokolova, so that it could be relayed back to Morse and Perez, leaving him to stay on the gun. ”They’re either twins or androids. They are armed, looks like a rifle. Carrying some plastic tub.”

Roll: Awareness Proficient

Paulson heard the contact message come in and prepared for action, at this range his weapons where useless but he got ready to break up their over watch position.

"Well, that screams 'Secret Corp Facility' if I've ever seen one," Mark commented softly to the general people and the area around him. His hand instinctively moved to his jacket in search of the tablet computer he would normally have strapped to him.  It got halfway before he realized he was still as woefully ill-equipped as he had started this mission.  He studied the wall the people had appeared from more closely as it stood open, then finally closed once more.

"I don't see anything that looks like a control surface," Mark called more deliberately over to the rest of the squad.  "If we're going to get in, we may have to try and ambush those synths when they come back out for their bathtubs."

Tanya Sokolova waited in the brush, watching the two figures coming out of the building while keeping a visual on the figures and spotting for Sixtus. Scanning with her binoculars, she hears the whisper, taking a moment to step back to the brush further back and relay it over the comm. Keeping her rifle on hand, she watches their flanks, making sure they don't get ambushed while Sixtus takes aim.
<Roll Awareness>

Getting back into position once more, making sure the brush doesn't rustle around too much, she whispers back to Quinn, "What do you suppose we do with the armed one?"

<Tag Sixtus>

There was movement in at the structure. Less then ideal, as they had hoped for a peaceful occupation. While the uninitiated my see others on the world as a sign of salvation, the prospect of being saved, or at least linking up with people of the same species or culture as they were. Morse and the marines would know better. Over half of their engagements had either been against corporates directly or as a result of their desire to hide what they were doing. Morse could never wrap his mind around what forces ruled such organizations, or why. So many millions of people being worked around like pieces of machinery in a factory, and all at the whim of some strange profit margin or design that no one could begin to understand. And all too often that profit came from some insane plan on the outskirts of space that no one knew about, and the Marine Corps cleaned up.

Of course the Corps was often sent out to clean up the mess and another follow on team came to hide their efforts, which often gave Morse the wonder of whether or not the USCM was actually an independent force... or just another subdivision of a massive corporate bureaucracy that just played its tools against each other as needed.

Though impossible to say what happened so high up, all the way down on the bottom floor where they lived Morse knew one thing... he hated synthetics. An two robots being out here meant whatever was happening was dangerous and required drones that wouldn't question the nature or morality of it.

Morse was not a drone.

"Keep eyes on the robots." Morse ordered. "Prepare for contact. There aint no way in fuck whoever them is aint got the knowledge of us bein' here... n' if they aint helpin, then they're hurtin'."

The rain continued to pelt around him, but Morse got used to the perpetual shower, shook water from his eyes.

"Four man team sweep left to make contact with them." Morse directed to the marines. "Quinn, Sokolova, keep em' in your sights... they moved in a manner that looks the slightest form of unfriendly when contact is established... drop em'."

Morse brought up his weapon and prepared for the what would follow.

<Roll Awareness
<Tag Everyone

Perez hated this planet more and more, every second, he had to be there. Of course, inter-starship collisions, bad weather and very unfriendly megafauna critters were not enough, no, it has to be some "secret facility" bullshit, too. An we all know, what "secret facilites", manned with fuckin androids, are made for. If something looks, smells and feels like trouble, it most certainly means trouble. Being camouflaged behind some sort of funny bush, smartgun at the ready, Perez allowed those thoughts for just the frag of a second, then he focused on the situation at hand.

Morse called for a four-man-sweep, so Perez took point with the Smartgun. After waiting for the other three to fall in, he advanced carefully, trying to conceal the advancement as long as possible.

<Roll Awareness - Level Master>
<Roll Machine Gun - Level Master, if necessary>

Dmmitri fell in behind Perez, keeping to the jungle cover as best as he could. He'd bided his time, stayed hidden, kept his eyes open, and listened to the rain falling on the foliage and the mysterious structure (and his fellow Marines, who didn't sound too pleased about the surroundings or the weather). He tried not to form any opinions but observed what he could and tried to understand what was going on. The presence of the man-made structure promised something or someone had been here and might be here still but Dmitri hadn't gotten his hopes up. For all he knew, the structure might have been abandoned and there would be nothing inside for him to find save for supplies they might possibly use.

The presence of the artificials, however, changed everything.

Where there were synthetics, there would be people. Where there were people, there was a chance, however slim--because the Universe is unfathomably vast and She loved yanking a man's chain--there would also be the one person in all Creation he searched for. Dmitri ruthlessly pushed down the hope that surged inside him, that treacherous flood of adrenaline that begged to have him breaking cover and running to the structure to blast his way in.

If she is there, then she is there and she's not in any hurry to leave. So went the familiar mantra in his thoughts, born of the long months of searching. If she's not there, she's not there and you're not in any hurry to find out.

So Dmitri gritted his teeth and kept formation with Perez and slowly advanced the proper way, the Marine way ... and refused to dwell on how it made the husband in him feel.

Samantha had never enjoyed rain and she quietly muttered curses to herself as the deluge drenched her and her fellow Marines. From her position next to Mark, she nodded in agreement at this assessment that they were almost certainly looking at a Secret Corporate facility. Upon Morse's call for a four man sweep and Perez and then Dmitri just getting up to move out, she sighed and tapped Giosso on the shoulder.

"Let's get this done Mark she said while bringing her Pusle Rifle out in front of her and moving to take up a position to the right and slightly behind Perez while motioning Mark to take the 'drag' in the diamond formation she had in mind. She quietly called out to Barayev and Juan; "Dmitri, take the left of the diamond, I'll stay on the right and Sarge, you're in the lead." She didn't know if Perez was senior to her or not as they held the same rank, but she shrugged and hoped the man wasn't the kind to get hung-up on that nonsense as she called out orders....

"Stay frosty and alert fellas.....on this planet, who de hell knows what's around any o' de trees plants or whatever.....so keep your heads on de swivel, okay?" She followed her own advice, keeping an alert eye and ear all around her and up and down. She was hoping and praying Morse had calmed down a bit from his earlier 'shoot first, shoot second, shoot third and if anything's still alive, shoot it some more and then get answers via autoposy' mentality from years ago when she had last served with him....but he was now a Staff SGT....so presumably, SOME kind of judgment had to be there.

"Morse, it's Sam....Perez, Giosso and Barayev and I are on de sweep"', she whispered over the platoon wide comms.

Dmitri heard Sam's order and moved to the left. It rarely paid to bunch up when approaching a possible hostile position: it just made you easier to kill in one blow.

paulson was relieved he hadn't been chosen to sweep and kept his decidedly non stealthy ass as low to the ground as possible. he had only just passed basic in infiltration and had no practice in it what so ever, he moved slowly whenever he dared move and tried to keep his eyes peeled for anything that could threaten either of the teams.
<roll awareness>

The mud and wet foliage were just starting to get to something resembling comfortable when Morse called out for the sweep. As much as Mark was curious to see what was going on up with the building, he hesitated to speak up. Sam, however, did not hesitate to volunteer both of them. Mark replied with his customary "Ma'am" and pushed himself out of the rain-soaked weeds.

Falling into his place at the back of the formation, Mark shook the water off of two of the few things he managed to hang onto from the salvaged equipment; a navy security pistol and one of the precious few motion trackers. He took a few extra moments as they started walking to get the device dialed in. I was a robust piece of equipment, but this was far, far from the ideal environment for it.

<Roll Motion Tracker>