USCMRPG

Doc raised his pistol and fired two rounds into the nutjob attacking with the pipe. He fell like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out an inaudible sigh of air. He was dead. (Gun roll: success)

Grisham saw that the forklift driver had no gun and he charged. Henniger’s shots pinged off the vehicle and one went home in the driver’s chest. McKenna fired from several stories above and missed horribly due to the unfamiliarity of his pressure suit. The bullets pinged and ricocheted off the floor right next to Grisham. Fortunately, the low velocity rounds did not puncture the ship’s hull. Grisham leapt onto the forklift and began to rain blows down on the head of the driver, who feebly tried to protect his head, blood gushing from his chest. It did no good; Grisham’s armored fist cracked his skull and he rolled out of his seat onto the ground, dead. The Marine clung nimbly to the forklift as it came to a stop. (Various rolls)

All the hostiles were dead, and the Marines saw what they had been gathered around. It was a dead woman in the same gray uniform as the assailants. It looked like she had been bludgeoned and shot multiple times and her face was locked in an appearance of extreme agony.

Both groups of Marines saw the other. Morse’s squad appeared to be about five floors up and looking down 40 feet to the Marines on the lowest deck of the Quantum Herald. “Morse, this is Sykes. We need to link up somewhere. Let’s see if we can’t find a stairway. I don’t think I would trust an elevator on a ship as damaged as this.” First Squad was tasked with finding a stairway down and Morse would be the one to make the choice of whether to try fore or aft. The young woman was still cowering at Davros’ feet and whimpering fearfully.
<Tag First Squad>

Sykes glanced at his squads and noticed one irregularity. “Doc! Put your goddamn helmet on! Was my order not clear enough?” The Sergeant Major pointed an accusatory finger at PFC. Kelly.
<Tag Kelly>

He stepped over to Sergeant Hall, “You okay, Sergeant? Any suit breach?”
<Tag Hall>

“Okay, squads. Follow me, we are checking aft. Lieutenant, I think you’d better stay with the minisubs if we’ve got hostile contacts. Morse, keep radio contact if possible.” Second and Third Squads moved aft to investigate the next room. They leap frogged each other and took cover where possible. The ground was strewn with huge cargo crates that had come loose from their storage racks. They reached the door at the aft end of the cargo bay and found it was locked. “Kelly, you got welder duty. Get that door open.”
<Tag Second/Third Squads>

Private Carlson began to shift uncomfortably in his suit. A bead of sweat ran down his face as he felt the urge to smoke a cigarette.

"Anybody else feeling a bit... nervous?"
<Tag Anyone>

There was a kid, a girl, and a drop, 40 feet. This was a fresh puzzle that Morse was quickly losing patience for. Their scans anticipated that there would be some level of disconnect, but not the kind that resulted in fractured bones or lines of fire that did not overlap in the slightest. It could be rectified, but Morse did not immediately presume such a thing would be among their first orders of business. But Sykes had given orders, which were easy to follow. And Morse was not about to try an elevator that was probably halfway flooded or faulty as it was.

"Roger, we're movin' forward. I didn't noticed shit aft, but we'll find somethin' up ahead." Morse answered Sykes.

He looked to his squad. "First squad, we're pressin' forward. We'll consolidate civilians on link up with the others. Davros git' that kid up, spot check her, and we're moving. Paulson you're on point, Mckenna on the left. Shit's weird in here so keep weapons on semi but your finger off that fuckin' trigger... got a feelin' there's other non combatants wanderin' around n' I don't wanna be explainin accidental injuries with visibility this good."

With that Morse began to form up on the right and prepared to look for a way down that was to the front of the vessel

< Tag first squad
<Roll Awareness

Henniger replaced his magazine on the move as his squad headed aft with the sergeant major.

"Kelly, lid on." He sub vocalized into the squad net.
<tag Kelly>

He supervised the movement of his squad as they moved and covered the other squad and command element.

<roll Awareness/perception>

Samantha had fallen with the momentum from the pipe blow; it hurt, but nothing serious.....she was more pissed off at herself for missing. She hadn't fully accounted for shooting while wearing the massive suit and it had thrown her aim, something she prided herself on....off.

She had snapped her Rifle up and put it almost flush against her assailants chest when he fell from a couple of pistols shots from Doc. She rose to her feet and said to the Corpsman, "Tenks and nice shootin'." Hearing Sykes question, she shook her head and replied with; "I'm fine, suit's fine....every'ting is fine....other than me ego from mission' dat easy shot...."

Getting herself under control, her accent faded a bit and she looked around to see her one remaining Squad Member Grisham emerge from the fork lift with some blood that was definitely not his own on him. "You okay Grisham?"

She was feeling a bit woozy herself in the suit, unaccustomed to wearing it for long periods of time, especially after the adrenaline rush and exhaustion from having engaged in combat in it. She leaned against a wall and took some deep breaths while keeping her focus on her squad mate's response and on the situation....

<Tag Grisham>
<Tag Sykes>
<Tag Doc>

"Tenks and nice shootin'."

Darren flashed the Sgt a grin and a nod of acknowledgement as he holstered the pistol and re-donned his helmet. He slapped a fresh magazine into his M-41A. No sense messing about with loose rounds in a combat zone. The ammo counter lit up with a reassuring '95' in red LEDs and Darren took his place in the squad formation as they made their way cautiously across the cargo bay toward the door at the far end.

His commlink crackled in his ear with the voice of Sgt Sykes. "Kelly, you got welder duty. Get that door open.".

Darren unhitched the little portable gas torch from his webbing harness and fired it up into cutting mode. The flame hissed a hot blue, burning at 3500C. Hot enough to turn steel into butter! The door was a standard internal pressure door. it would be held closed by a pair of deadbolts, top and bottom. Darren, keyed his helmet headset to the squad comm-net.

"Beginning cut now, Sarge. We should be through in about 2 mics"

Darren turned the cutting flame on the metal door-frame and began cutting through the lower of the two deadbolts.

Davros did his best to look small and comforting to the girl at his feet. Keeping his voice calm he did his best to make her feel safe. "Hey, what's your name? I'm Davros. We're here to help." He aimed his gun more toward the floor, wouldn't help her feel comfortable with the barrel of a gun pointed at her. "Listen we're going to take care of you. Are you hurt? I'm going to give you a quick once over to make sure your ok. OK? He pulled out a zip tie from his butt pack. "Listen I wanna keep you safe but, but in order to do that I have to make sure I'm safe too. OK? I'm gonna ask you to put this around your wrists and pull it tight. I know that its probably not what you want to do but we don't know who's friendly yet. This would help show me that i can trust you ok? Ill make sure to keep you safe and sound. Davros put the zip tie on the ground near her feet and backed up a step or two. "Please help me help all your friends."

<Assuming that the girl didn't need some hard convincing.>

Davros gave the girl a quick once over talking to her the whole time explaining what he was doing in a calm serene voice. He did a quick 15 second vital check, made sure there were no broken bones, and checked her eyes for any signs of internal head trauma. "So what happened here? Not often we get a space ship that wants to pretend to be a submarine. You have any other friends hiding out that need help? Do you know how many other people are on board the ship? You thirsty at all want a drink? Ok, so we are moving out. I want you to stay with me I'll keep you safe. These guys are professional badasses and they don't take shit from anyone. We will get everyone we can home, alive and safe. Ok, up we go." Davros made sure to safe safe a bunch of times, trying to really make the idea sink home that they were "safe." He helped the girl to her feet. He got ready to follow the squad, he wanted to put the girl between himself and the squad, that way he could keep an eye on her. "Ok, were going to be moving now, follow these guys and stay with me. Keep nice and quiet, ok?" He caught a glimpse of the little boy from last mission sitting in the corner. He thought to himself I'm definitely going to keep this one from being on the receiving end of some bullet, or having her feel the loss of loosing someone close to her. Davros brought the girl in line with the other marines, he did his best to pay attention just in case she decided to be "funny". He did his usual thing of counting paces from the submersibles to where they were currently located. He also noted the doors and rooms they passed, just making sure there was no one else hiding out, or trying to remain hidden.

<roll for perception, and reactive combat if necessary.>
<If the girl gets feisty and decides she wants to hurt anyone I would definitely give her a good lump on the back of her head to remind her to behave.>

Davros clicked into the comms. "Sarge got the civi up and moving. Doesn't look too worse for wear. I'll let you guys know if she knows anything usefull."

<tag Sykes>