Turn 2: The Nehalennia

[Corporal Hicks]

"Officer on deck!" shouted Sergeant Major Sykes and all the Marines dropped what they were doing to stand at attention. Three officers walked into the room, A Lieutenant Colonel flanked by a Major and a Captain. The Lieutenant Colonel walked into the center of the barracks and returned Lieutenant Harper's salute. "Welcome to Summit, Marines. I am Lieutenant Colonel Yang, commander of this garrison. I don't have time to explain this through a middleman so here it is. A cargo ship named the Quantum Herald has crashed in the Porter Sea. She made a direct atmospheric entry and made no response to our hails. She did, however, send off a generic distress signal indicating that she was under attack. We do know that she is way off her planned course and we've sent inquiries to her port of origin regarding her cargo and crew, but we don't have time to wait for all that to come back. She hails from Ryushi in the Tartarus system, and we can't expect an answer for at least two weeks."

The Lieutenant Colonel looked around the room at the Devil Dawgs who were still standing at attention. "At ease. Our scans indicate that the Quantum Herald sank at latitude 15* north, longitude 49* east. That is above the Friedman Ocean Trench and our experts believe that she will settle on the bottom of the ocean near that location. A spaceship is designed to handle all kinds of strange environments, but the pressure at the bottom of the ocean might be too much and we do not know what damage her hull has suffered up to this point. We have a submarine docked offshore and preparing to make a rescue attempt. And I imagine you are all wondering why I am telling you this and what it has to do with you." Yang looked around the room and saw confirmation on the faces of the Marines. "Well, due to their distress signal, we are acting on the assumption that they suffered an attack from an external source. Our submarine crew is prepared for a lot of things, but not close quarters combat, so I have detached the Devil Dawgs to assist in the event of a hostile force aboard the Quantum Herald. Listen, I know it's irregular, but it's my decision. 9 out of 10 odds you won't even be needed, and the odds are pretty high that we can't do anything to help the crew either. But we sure as hell have to try. There is a coast guard ferry waiting to take you aboard the Nehalennia, report to the ferry in T minus 30 minutes. Best of luck, Marines."

Not fifteen minutes later, the Devil Dawgs found themselves tearing along the surface of the water in a cramped coast guard vessel that had a chaingun turret on the front. The beachgoers were little specks by the time they reached the Nehalennia, a state of the art submarine. All that showed above the water were two unusual looking turrets and a small metal tower about 4 meters across and 2 meters above the water. The ferry bumped on something under the water and anyone who looked over the edge saw a giant metal submarine just below the surface. Two Navy crewmen waved from the submarine's tower and the ferry extended a hydraulic gangplank which allowed the Marines to go across. The Navy guy and girl held out hands to help the Marines aboard. An officer in a blue uniform stood behind them and welcomed the Marines with a wide and sincere grin. "Welcome aboard the Nehalennia; I am the XO, Lieutenant Wolf. I hear great things about the Devil Dawgs and I hope we can make your stay as painless as possible. I've read about what you did for the crew of the Shiloh in the Nembus System. You are welcome aboard! Come below and I'll give you the tour, we still have some time before we are ready to go." The Lieutenant beckoned the Marines to follow him down the ladder into the bowels of the submarine. Many of them took a last glance around at the sun glinting on the waves of the sea before descending into the artificial light of the vessel.

(OOC: Maps of the inside of the submarine are available in the roster section of the campaign.)

Nehalennia from starboard.jpg (37.11 KiB) Viewed 16987 times

Nehalennia map.jpg (53.8 KiB) Viewed 16987 times

[wargamer]

Kelly's boots clanged on the steel of the sub's hull as he stepped aboard from the patrol boat with the rest of the gaggle of marines. Strange to be back in action so quickly, yesterday he had been propping up a beach-side bar, wearing one of the loud pseudo-hawaiian shirts that all the locals seemed to favor and failing to talk to any interesting women.
He raised his hand and stepped forward "Lt Wolf, Sir. In the briefing we were told the target is at the bottom of the Friedman Trench. That's a long way down. Is this going to be HARDsuit work?"

[LT_Chun]

Henniger waited with his squad against a gunwale on the fast ferry waiting his turn to climb aboard the sub. He had been thinking ahead to being on the sub and deep water environment rescues when Kelly asked a good question. He kept his ears tuned to the conversation amongst the general murmur of the platoon.


As far as the sub or even a vac suit, he wasn't worried. Tight spaces never bothered him. He'd been held under in the ocean surfing as a kid constantly and just learned to relax and wait to surface. It was almost womb like. He would keep an eye on his three Marines as nonchalantly as he could. Their jackets hadn't said anything about acute claustrophobia, but that sort of thing almost never came up unless it became a medical issue.

He lit a cigarette and pulled his helmet off, using it as a shield to keep the ocean spray from dowsing his smoke as he waited to board.

[eyeball]

Paulson surveyed the amount of marines and then the size of the sub, it was going to be real close quarters, hot bunking or something the navy guys called it when in space he imagined it would be the same here. The trip better not be too long he thought as everything rolled and rocked underfoot.
Paulson followed 1st squad as they crossed over from the ship to the sub if anything it felt even less secure under foot the marines descended into the sub and he continuied on with them not at all comfortable which was strange for it was no different from a very small space ship, maybe it was the rocking.
<roll nausea >
<tag anyone>

[Medic Guy]

Clint sat near the rest of his squad during the briefing and listened in. The mention of Tartarus brought back a brief flood of memories, until he dialed back in to the commanders address. Sitting on a submarine didn't sound terrible to Clint, it wasn't shore leave, but it was still a bit of a break. Figuring there would be time for questions later, he held his comments and tried to log in inquiries he had for later with less brass about. What was the type and size of this Quantum Herald? What is the depth of this Friedman Trench? What was the last contact or communication with the ship? These and other questions formed in his head, but he'd hold onto them until a better time to ask.

After grabbing his gear and boarding the coast guard boat, he noticed the reef as they passed by, continuing to head farther out to sea. He took a hand of one of the navy personnel as he boarded the sub and then climbed down a ladder to the main deck as the vessel shifted slightly with the current. Grey and dark grey seemed to be the predominant colors in the vessel. He moved aside as the rest of the platoon moved down the ladder.

[Oliver Grisham]

As Grisham stepped into the submarine he couldn’t help but recall an unpleasant memory of being dragged down beneath the water, reptilian jaws clamped on his throat. He remembered the blind panic of the breath leaving his lungs, eclipsing even the pain of the pain of the teeth piercing his neck.

“I best not say nuthin’ ‘bout that.” He thought to himself. “No sense lowerin’ the morale for my sake. Nought to be gained by whingin’ tha’s wot my old ma used to say didn’t she though.”

Instead, Grisham put on a weak attempt at cheerfulness “The sea don’t half look admirable clear today do it not. P’raps it ain’t too much to ‘ope that we’ll see a fish or twain down in the depths”

[maxvale76]

Samantha had always enjoyed being out on the water growing up in the mostly ocean with a few islands here and there colony world of New Kingston. However, she had never really spent much time UNDERNEATH the waves, so she was kind of looking forward to the experience.

Hearing her new squad member Grisham talk about seeing a fish, she gave a wistful sigh and replied, "I don't 'tink we're gonna me seeing any fishies mon. A shame that....but I'm guessing we'll be too deep and it'll be too dark to see much....but I hope you're right and I'm wrong".

<Tag Grisham>

[Morse]

There was an irony to the Colonial Marines. Though the root of their title came from aquatic beginnings, they had next to no training in the water beyond being able to swim with a combat load. The combat skills translated well enough though into an underwater environment. Morse did not know if they were inevitably going to find themselves in combat, but he did know that the rules under water were a bit more severe than in space. In space ballast wasn't an issue. So if they sprung a leak there were new problems. The engines functioned differently. Signal travelled on different channels that were not so easily adjusted.

Things under water were different, but their mission would be the same. Morse wanted to clarify something though... something that he hadn't listened to in earlier years.

"I better not catcha one a you's usin' high explosive tip rounds down here." Morse said sternly. "I mean that. No sneakin' em' just for shits n' you think that it might come in handy." Morse mentioned as they made their way onto the submarine. "You keep full mag'zine a low yield n' if you run out you use your fuckin' knife, but aint a one of you better have anything that pops much more'n a fuze on a match." Morse concluded. "N' that goes fer grenades too."

Morse had put the entire platoon at risk on numerous occasions in his youth thinking it was better to be prepared with their normal payload. Always ready to slaughter the entire enemy force on his own. But sometimes regulations and orders were issued for a reason, and if he hadn't gotten lucky, they could have learned the reason why very easily. But he had given up on luck at that point.

<Tag Anyone

[LT_Chun]

Henniger climbed down the ladderwell behind his squad. He heard Morse before his head cleared the access hatch for'ard. He hit the deck playing and raised his voice to reach his Marines squeezing through the companionway ahead of him.

"Third, before you stow your gear, kit inspection in our berthing area."

<tag 3rd Squad>

[maxvale76]

Sam was actually startled and surprised, in a GOOD way by Morse's words. Not that she doubted for a second that what he was saying was correct as she was going to give the same speech, minus a few 'colorful' phrases, to her own squad; but that MORSE was the one uttering the words. She caught his eye for a moment and nodded in respect.....perhaps the thing she had so long feared in Morse; his penchant for indiscriminate carnage, regardless of who might be impacted by such carnage; was something he had finally come to recognize as a DANGEROUS thing and was taking actions to focus it correctly.

They had always had a strange history together on many missions....they had saved each others lives several times over and had the utmost respect for the others' abilities to handle themselves in the field while also having very different beliefs on cultural matters....but without a shadow of a doubt, Samantha had ALWYAS been uneasy around Morse because she believed that one day his seeming lack of thought or care that his raging fury that burned in his core would have dire consequences. She was profoundly moved and pleasantly surprised that he seemed to have turned over a new leaf.

Of course, she herself had become more hardened and quicker to take harsher actions than her younger, more idealistic self would've ever done; so she had to admit that years of action in the Corps and taken its toll on her in ways that she wasn't proud of. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and getting back to the matter at hand, she addressed her own squad.

"You heard the man, peoples.....Low-V rounds only....last 'ting anybody be wanting is putting holes in our ride when we be way down deep in de water, right?" She switched out her clips and emptied her Rifle's grenade launcher of grenades as she was talking.

<Tag Morse>
<Tag 2nd Squad>

[eyeball]

Paulson wondered if low v translated into flamer? if wouldn't puncture the hull per-say but just might set the wrong critical system alight he better check before he unstowed it from his main kit and started scaring navy personal.

[maxvale76]

OOC: Low-v is Low-velocity; Pulse Rifle ammo that is NOT the Explosive tipped, Armor-piercing round they normally cary

[Morse]

As they started moving down, Morse had acknowledged Sam's nod. He knew how far they had come from when they were both starting off within months of bootcamp. They'd travelled the universe and somehow they were the longest two consistently dropped Marines in their unit. There had been a handful that had done more drops Morse had surmised, but consistently remaining with the unit was a rare thing. Many had retired, disappeared, or died along the way. Realistically there was nothing remarkable about Sam or Morse. Neither of them really even fit the mold of the ideal Marine as it was. Morse fit the image of an often unhinged homicidal crusader, and Sam was a bit more of the warrior poet who asked "why". After that much time they had grown together, but acknowledging that change in the passage of time was odd.

Still, a random thought entered into Morse's mind. A piece of irony that he was overwhelmed with and he had to voice it to the only other person that would understand it.

"What if we died down there?' Morse asked Sam, with a cocked grin. "Don' fightin' in orbit, deep space, all fucked terrain... Earth... n' we git' clipped down under water?" Morse mused. "Cus I aint don' a lotta swimmin' since I got this fucker put on." Morse tapped the hard metal of his robotic leg down on a railing, making an audible "tink."

It was not a question that really had an answer of anything more than a philosophical nature, but it entered his mind. And he wanted to know Sam's thoughts on it.

< Tag Sam

[maxvale76]

Sam responded to Morse's grin and comment with a chuckle and a rueful; "Aye....it'd really put de MARINE in Colonial Marines In a way I doubt anybody in de Corps has in a LONG time. We might even make de history books...though I'm okay NOT making it dat way".

<Tag Morse>

[lordstrand]

Davros rode on the coast guard cutter shielding his face from the watery spray. He lit one last smoke on board the cutter as slowed their progress on the water. He swayed a bit as the cutter made a reverberating bump when it thumped into the submarine. The gangplank extended and Davros waited until nearly last to enter the sub. He took one last drag on his smoke and mutter "Love a woman in uniform." He smirked. Davros took the hand of one of the Navy crew and hefted himself aboard. He handed down the big medical bag to one of his fellow marines and descended into the cramped interior of the sub. As he made his into the quaters that would be their home until they made it to the downed ship he saw Paulson looking a little worse for wear. Giving him a good buddy slap on his shoulder he said in his best imitation of an Irish accent "Caman lad the rocken ain't nothen once you get use to it. Rock ya ta sleep like a wee lad."
<tag Paulson>

He was glad he heard someone mentioning leaving the explosive tipped rounds behind. He had vivid images of of water rushing in a big ass hole they just punched into the side of the ship. "Might not be a bad idea to also leave the flamers behind. Smaller quarters might spread flamer juice father than intended."
<tag anyone in authority that would listen>

"I figure without something to carry the larger bag of supplies it might not be a bad idea to bring a bit more medical stuff with us."
<tag the other medics>
Davros Took out his flamer and used the space to add in more medical supplies. He made sure to have a few extra magazines for his sub machine gun since he was now ditching his backup weapon. Double, triple, and quadruple checking his equipment he felt that momentary surge of adrenaline and fear that comes with getting ready to go on an OP.