Turn 5: Down the Rabbit Hole

[Morse]

With a nod Morse showed he understood Quinn. ”Yup, I can git em both. Dropped the med kit to do it, but it’s a shit ton more practical then tryin’ to disconnect the Smartgun’n do field fixin’.” Morse pointed out. He did not need to go into the details, but he could quickly disconnect his smartgun and pull up the Rocket Launcher. He had tried it before and it was very simple.

”Figured we got enough rated fer medicals no that I aint gotta be luggin’ the fucker around no more.” They did have two medics there, plus Quinn and Morse. If they needed to they could use their K52 med kits, and if they needed more supplies then what the two had they were likely all going to die anyway regardless.

”I’ll git the new fucks loaded and goin’, I’ll let Dirk do the yellin’. His job anyway.” Morse said moving out of the APC, hoping Dirk would move out in time for him to actually do that. Otherwise Morse wouldn’t be able to help himself but to continue crapping on the new recruits.

< Tag Quinn and Dirk

[Tyre]

The mission orders had been fairly simple, if anything could be called simple in the field. The Huldra that had been herded into charging their barricades had littered the ground beyond the walls with their corpses, and Jon had witnessed the strange xenomorphs for the first time. The strange alien creatures, a cross between a church’s pipe-organ sprouting out their backs to their tails had certainly been something the young Private hadn’t expected to encounter on his first deployment or the fact they’d had to defend against them if only briefly.

Remaining on the wall for a time or at least to gather his wits, the young Private stepped down from his position on the wall before reaching for his canteen. He’d take a slow drink of water from the issued canteen before setting it back on the utility belt and heard the next orders for incinerators and shotguns to go in for a close quarters situation although he had been curious whether he and Morse being rated on the M56 Smartguns would be able to keep them for the new mission. He’d ask Morse about it, when he could find the Corporal and seeing as how the immediate threat had subsided Jon took the time to find more ammunition for the Smartgun weapon system by going to the Armory first.

<Tag Anyone>

[Corporal Hicks]

He shrugged and offered his hand "Names Alex Creed."

"Nice to meet you Creed," Eric said, shaking his hand.

Before they moved out he went to the armory to grab some gear that might come in handy. In addition to his standard gear, Roberts picked up some night-vision goggles and hung them on his belt. He picked up one of the neon blue flashlights and shoved it into his M3 Utility Holdall. He also grabbed a M1000 Signal Flare and put it into the bag. 'It never hurts to be over-prepared,' he thought to himself.

(OOC: All unusual items approved by GM)

[jdd2035]

Alex had already resupplied and thought of all the extra stuff he could use on this planet but by the end of an hour his frame pack would weigh nine tons. He would more than likely load out before he left the fort. As Eric made his way to the armory he made sure he was not needed and than made his own way to the mess hall.

[MarcusOTerra]

Sal looked at his modified rifle. It now had a four shell under-slung shotgun, and two laser pointer sights attached, a red and a green. He'd fiddled with the lens on the red one so that, after about five meters, or about sixteen feet, the light cone out to a circle more than a dot. if anything passed inside that range, he'd let loose on the shotgun.

He looked at his ammo. Four clips of Pulse rifle ammo, and the one in the rifle; sixteen shotgun shells, and the four in the under-slung; and two flamer canisters, and the new one attached to the flamer.

All of this, and his med kit bound tight to the small of his back and he was feeling like a real 'Murican' hero. If only he wasn't a 'Martian', he laughed internally. He let the chuckle escape his lips and his was an evil laugh as he found the last thing he was looking for: Reading material.

He flipped through what amounted to a "Flamer for dummies" section of the user manual. Most of it covered using the flamer to clear out aggressive plant life. If he hadn't watched that pulp movie from the 20th century he wouldn't think twice about it.

"Feed me, Seymour..." he mumbled as he hit the section on 'Friendly fire; it really isn't.'

He made his way for the APC, figuring that's where everyone would rally before the mission.

[Quicksilver]

Mark was also in the armory, strapping on the full light combat armor over his fatigues. His pistol, which had so faithfully stayed at his side during his stay here on the planet, was now resting back on the security systems desk to be exchanged for the shotgun Quinn had called for all non-flame equipped men to take. That was fine for him, the shotgun was actually light enough for him to move effectively with, and he had a feeling this mission would involve more running than shooting for him.

Giosso’s primary concern, really, was all in his backpack. The pack the result of his own special project, and way to much free time on base. Back when he first started doing comm-tech support he’d hated the way the equipment had fitted in the standardized backpack. He could never get what he was looking for quickly enough, the weight sat all wrong, and he’d spend more time setting up then actually doing his work. On this backpack, the heavy-ass field radio was hard-connected to the bottom of the frame, and the main body of the intelligence unit was locked in place up against his back, alongside a few other similar things. The whole set up was prewired to a mini-datapad strapped to the inside of his left forarm, where he could look at it while holding the shotgun. Another retractable wire snaked out of the pack to his right drop pocket, where the electronic lock picks and computer uplink wires were. Out here, a minute saved could be life or death.

He zipped in the final snacks and hydration unit into the backpack and paused. He needed ammo. He started looking around the armory. “Anyone remember where they hell we keep the shotgun shells?”

<Tag anyone in armory>

[Dirk Pitt]

Quinn looked at both of them. "Let's get the job done and everyone out alive. We leave in twenty, get them ready."
<tag Dirk and Morse>

Dirk put on his helmet and nodded. "Yes sir. Everyone out alive sounds good to me"
<Tag Quinn>

”I’ll git the new fucks loaded and goin’, I’ll let Dirk do the yellin’. His job anyway.” Morse said moving out of the APC, hoping Dirk would move out in time for him to actually do that. Otherwise Morse wouldn’t be able to help himself but to continue crapping on the new recruits.
< Tag Quinn and Dirk

"Ya, ya, ya.I'd court martial you for insubordination with that attitude if I thought you would even show up." He joked.
<Tag Morse>

Dirk walked slowly out of the APC pausing only to pull the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lighting one with his old battered Zippo he stuffed the pack back into his pocket. The plan was simple, Cause a diversion, send in a smash and grab squad for the information and get out of dodge. Now all he needed was for the Xenos to cooperate, not that they ever did. And now with this new big sucker having tactics things were somewhat more difficult.

Walking quickly to the armory he saw the Marines grabbing weapons and ammo. This was always how the boots did it, like a department store and they had unlimited credit.

"This is for all you new people. My name is Sargent Dirk Pitt and I'm your top Sargent. You will be hearing some of the Marines calling me Dirk and Lt. Quinn, Quinn. Don't try it. They have all paid for the right with blood, sweat and tears over many operations. Your squad leaders are some of the best and hardest Marines in the Corps so listen to their orders. We are moving out in in twenty. I want you to gear up for light and fast movement. Weapons, your main weapon and an incinerator if you are rated or a shotgun if you aren't. Ammo and water are also needed. Keep anything extra to a minimum. Do you get me?" Dirk yelled out so that every new addition to the platoon could hear and sound off.
<Tag All new additions to the platoon>

[Corporal Hicks]

He zipped in the final snacks and hydration unit into the backpack and paused. He needed ammo. He started looking around the armory. “Anyone remember where they hell we keep the shotgun shells?”

"Here you go!" Eric said, and tossed a metal box full of shells to him. "I almost forgot to get a shotgun. I'm gonna have to leave some crap behind." He hooked an Ithaca shotgun onto the back of his armor. He dumped his mess kit, and all but one ration.

<Tag Giosso>

Roberts chuckled as he listened to Dirk's speech, resting the butt of his pulse rifle on his thigh. His old friend filled the role of Platoon Leader well.

[eyeball]

"This is for all you new people. My name is Sargent Dirk Pitt and I'm your top Sargent. You will be hearing some of the Marines calling me Dirk and Lt. Quinn, Quinn. Don't try it. They have all paid for the right with blood, sweat and tears over many operations. Your squad leaders are some of the best and hardest Marines in the Corps so listen to their orders. We are moving out in in twenty. I want you to gear up for light and fast movement. Weapons, your main weapon and an incinerator if you are rated or a shotgun if you aren't. Ammo and water are also needed. Keep anything extra to a minimum. Do you get me?"

"YES SARGENT!" Eyeball bellowed. he then continued to grab ammo like it was going out of fashion. once he had a full combat load and a few extra he picked up a shot gun as requested along with spare ammo for it.
out of the armory Eyeball scampered to the barracks and started loosing extra kit he didn't need. finally he was left with pulse rifle, shotgun, ammo for both, 4 grenades, motion tracker and electronic bypass kit, his medium armor, helmet and rebreather.

back outside he fell in near Corporal Morse. Eyeball looked at Morse the corporal was loaded for bear, or xeno in this case, "um Corp you want me to carry ammo or anything for you? that kinda looks heavy?"

[Pale Rider]

Dawn rose quickly, like their ancient forefathers the Marines took the red skyline as an ill omen. "Red in the Morning Sailor take warning!" The sky glowed blood red and a thick haze hugged the ground causing visibility to be poor at best. The snakefighter lifted from the base and proceeded on it's run. The tine had come for the marines to entered the compound. The hive sat sone 2.5 miles from the W-Y Outpost. The marines watched as the blasts from the weapons flashed through the haze and a ragged hurrah escaped their lips as the deep bass rumble of the ordinance reached their ears.

<Action>

[msullivan]

Sounding off like the good marine he was "Yes Sargent" Wilks grabs the gear he is told to, full combat load of pulse rifle rounds, shotgun with ammo along with 4 grenades. Heading to his barracks Wilks grabs the rest of his gear: medium armor, helmet and rebreather motion tractor, and finally his med kit.

[jdd2035]

"This is for all you new people. My name is Sargent Dirk Pitt and I'm your top Sargent. You will be hearing some of the Marines calling me Dirk and Lt. Quinn, Quinn. Don't try it. They have all paid for the right with blood, sweat and tears over many operations. Your squad leaders are some of the best and hardest Marines in the Corps so listen to their orders. We are moving out in in twenty. I want you to gear up for light and fast movement. Weapons, your main weapon and an incinerator if you are rated or a shotgun if you aren't. Ammo and water are also needed. Keep anything extra to a minimum. Do you get me?" Dirk yelled out so that every new addition to the platoon could hear and sound off.

~Too loud~ Alex thought ~why are Sergent's always too loud?~ as he stepped out of the mess hall and back into the marines proper. He didn't say much and when every one started shouting at the top of their lungs "We get you and Yes Sergent" he winced ~too loud~.

Alex already had his shotgun and a new toy to use in this engagement ad started to make his way to where ever he was posted. As the fireworks erupted Alex stepped to Roberts and mentioned "We need to go in from the side like while the bugs are distracted."

Tag Roberts

[Corporal Hicks]

Alex already had his shotgun and a new toy to use in this engagement ad started to make his way to where ever he was posted. As the fireworks erupted Alex stepped to Roberts and mentioned "We need to go in from the side like while the bugs are distracted."

Tag Roberts

"That's the plan buddy. Be ready to say goodbye to these walls," he said to Creed.

"Duncan, get over here!" he said loudly to the crowd. He didn't even know what his other marine looked like

<Tag Creed/Duncan>

He turned back to Creed. "When he gets here, make sure he has his sniper rifle and another gun. He may as well bring his sniper in the car, but I don't think he'll need it in the compound. I'm gonna talk to the officers real quick, hang on." Eric walked away and spoke with Sergeant Pitt and Lieutenant Quinn.

<Whisper Dirk/Quinn>

[Morse]

Another of the worst missions a marine could possibly ask for meant only one thing for Morse. Come prepared for as many possible scenarios as possible. For some that called for a variety of gear. Bringing rope, climbing gear, rebreather, and all manner of extra supplies might have been an option. For Morse, it meant being a walking delivery system of death.

He had no issue strapping on the usual drums of M56 Smartgun ammunition to his legs, as he always did. His usual plethora of eight frag grenades fit well across his belt along with the four smoke grenades he kept on his right hip. His M4A3 pistol snuggly nestled in it’s holster on his left hip.

But this time there was a difference. Morse did not pick up a K52 medical kit. This time he left it sitting. This time he hefted onto his back an M5 Rocket Launcher. Though its ordinance was not guaranteed to break a modern tank, it would easily break a bunker or cluster of troops. It was fully loaded with an extra rocket at his back where the K52 used to sit.

The ensemble made Morse appear the perfect cartoon image of what a United States Colonial Marine should look like. Confederate Flag on the Smartgun Ammo box, dragon charm hanging off it’s barrel, and various war trophies being worn on his arms, Morse looked the image of a man who was ready to kill.

He ignored most of Dirk’s speech, instead just going about his business of loading up. He was obviously under that special group to refer to him as Dirk. Morse had after all been Dirk’s go-to-guy for many years. Dirk was Morse’s first squad leader, and Morse had been under his command for the vast majority of his time in the corps. Now Morse was in charge of the ‘Dead Shots’, but Dirk was still his direct superior, which always made things easy for him.

As Morse finished loading up, Eyeball asked him if he was good with carrying it all. ”Aint shit.” Morse said getting comfortable with it. ”Had to ditch the fuckin’ Med bag though, so if shit runs fucked, its all on Coleslaw.” Morse pointed out. Since Colson was taking over as medic.

Morse moved center with the ‘Dead Shots’ squad, holding his Smartgun and eying them over to make sure they fit the description of what was needed.

”Alright dibs, listen fer a sec.” Morse said to his squad. ”I aint figured I briefed yall on our designation, but were squad 2. Number aside, our squads the “Dead Shots”.” Morse began to explain in a stern but calm tone. ”N’ we got a specific history n’ job designation. Were the fuckers that battle n’ bail. We kill the fuck outa everythin’. Generally rack in more kills and find ourselves in the crazy fuck storm. N’ if we aint doin’ that, we’re bailin’ out the rest a the fuckin’ platoon from whatever crazy shit there into.” Morse continued. ”I aint privy to where were gonna be standin’ once were in, but once were there, were gonna do what ‘Dead Shots’ do and kick fuckin’ ass. Aint no questions to it. If it looks hostile, fill that fucker up with holes. Simple shit, and we all walk out livin’ easy n’ getting’ the fuck off this rock by tomara. Good with that?” Morse asked his squad.

< Tag Dead Shots – Eyeball, Colson, and Wilks

[taimdala]

((OOC: I apologize for the lack of posts but as I'm not a combat monster, I found a hole to dive into and pulled it in after me. I'm back. We'll see how long that lasts! LOL!))

((Catching up from Turn 4: Turning Marines into Rats))

Just then the alarms sounded. They had come. Jumping to his feet he grabbing his helmet and M41A. putting the helmet on, he slammed a round into the chamber of his weapon. Returning Oksana's nod he gave her a wry grin.

"Don't go getting yourself killed. I don't like making new friends." He said as he strode out of the office.
<Tag Oksana>

"I don't like losing them!" she called at his back. "Stay alive, Dirk!"
<Tag Dirk>

In the absence of orders to the contrary, Oksana made her way to the command center. If nothing else, she could lend her eyes and ears to the monitors. She drew her pistol and held it at her side, pointed down but ready to raise and fire if she needed to defend herself.

Oksana didn't get very far toward the command center before the shooting began in earnest. She ran the rest of the way, crossing the compound and ducking into the APC, praying a stray bullet wouldn't hit her. She found the most out-of-the-way spot inside to hunker down and remained there. The Marines knew what they were doing. Any input from her would only distract them from staying alive.

And she very much wanted to stay alive.

Once the shooting stopped, she rose gratefully, stiff from crouching on the deck. She listened to Quinn as he briefed Morse and Dirk on the next phase of the mission. The other men found the holes in the plan and plugged them up right quick. Again, her input wasn't needed. Again, that suited her fine.

When Morse and Dirk left, she finally spoke.

"Lieutenant," she said, loud enough to be heard but not loud enough for her words to carry past the open door of the APC. " I'm not combat trained but I have other skills that may be useful. I am a xenobiologist. I might see something your men might miss. If nothing else, I can be the back-up medic and field surgeon. You've seen my work. You know I'm good for it."

She very much wanted to stay alive, but her sense of duty and obligation to these men would not allow her to opt out. Regardless of her own conviction, however, Oksana knew the matter of her deployment was not hers to decide. She leaned against the console and waited for Quinn's answer.

<TAG: Quinn>