Turn 2: The Docking Bay

[Corporal Hicks]

Date: August 14, 2189
Time: 16:10:00
Location: Orion’s Belt, Alnitak System
Sergeant Major Danny Sykes walked into the armory of the USS Heimlich. “Alright people, shut it! I have the latest information from the USS Higgins. They received a distress signal from Gaia Station at oh-two hundred hours. They reported that an unregistered ship docked at the Main Docking Bay. They said that black-suited men exited the craft and were killing everyone they saw. They mentioned something about biological warfare and pulse rifles. Apparently the communications went down at oh-three hundred. They reported that the terrorists were storming their offices and they had to flee. At oh-five hundred, the USS Higgins landed three platoons of Marines in the Main Docking Bay. These Marines have been in contact with the Higgins and they reported fighting spec-ops grade mercenaries with full armament. They were pushed back and are pinned down in Hydroponics.”

Sykes glanced around before continuing. “We have sent hails that we intend to land more troops at the Main Docking Bay. However, we are ordered to land at the Secondary Docking Bay and move immediately to Hydroponics. If the terrorists are planning to hit us when we land, they will be at the wrong hangar. As far as we know, the Secondary Docking Bay is still in friendly hands, but I doubt they will be expecting us. We are going in with full stealth capabilities, so they probably won’t pick us up until they see us with their own eyes. We are hitting the ground in ten minutes, so hit the bathroom and make sure you have everything ready for a combat drop. Semper fi!”
<Tag everyone>

Those ten minutes passed incredibly quickly. The USS Heimlich coasted gently into range of the hangar doors. At the last moment, they hailed the hangar operator. "This is USCM vessel H-1136-AJ799, you are ordered to open the hangar bay doors under Regulation 4.1.16 of the United States Colonial Military Police Code." They waited a few moments for the hangar operator to answer the hail.

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[maxvale76]

Samantha Hall made sure her Pulse Rifle and the shotgun on her back were good to go and she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for what was about to go down. She had learned the hard way that combat was no time to have any part of your mind focused on anything other than what was happening immediately around you. Rolling her neck, she opened her eyes, exhaled and flicked off the safety of her Pulse Rifle.....as ready to go as she ever would be.....

She called out to her squad; "Okay second squad, stay frosty and on de alert.....if we got space for it, we're in a diamond formation; Smartgun in de front, I'm on de right, Dmitri on de left, Tanya you dot de drag (tail end Charlie)....if we gotta go single file, I'm in de lead, Dmitri, Tanya, Smartgun in de rear. Clear? Heads on de swivel, look sharp!"

<Tag 2nd squad>

[JuanPerez]

If Knight would be human, he would have freaked out. At least, he calculated a 63 percent chance of it, based on available data about humans in his internal databases. The last 93 minutes were, hmm, how would a human describe it ... horrific? At least, help was on its way. Having shut down all of the starbases long and medium range weapons and its point defense arsenal, an incoming message suddenly popped up in his portable computer unit ...

"This is USCM vessel H-1136-AJ799, you are ordered to open the hangar bay doors under Regulation 4.1.16 of the United States Colonial Military Police Code."

his fingers moved with inhuman speed, typing a response ...

"This is Gaia Station Synthetic Operator Knight, Designation JK16M37XG5-D6, Secondary Docking Bay Hangar Doors opening procedure activated. Hurry up, hostile units are on the way. Meet you there for further briefing on actual status."

... time to move now to avoid any tracebacks. He packed the portable into a casing, stripped it to his back, took the motion tracker and activated it, and then he began moving towards the docking bay, using all kind of maintenance tunnels to avoid contact and detection.

[Morse]

A new assignment meant a new squad. This was not unusual, quite common with the current situation. The Marines all worked closely with each other that they were practically interchangeable. This was no issue, and Morse had spent enough time in every squad and in every position that he could handle his current one well. The squad leader for first squad would keep him as next in line behind Sykes as it had been on their derelict world, which would make giving directives easy enough. Morse had a directive of his own however.

"Check 'yer stock." Morse directed to not just his squad, but to everyone. "Full combat load n' more." he continued checking his own gear. "If thems's doin' real shootin' in there, might be a minute 'fore yer' able to get more ammo off anythin' other'n a corpse you made." Morse knew that was still considered illegal, to take from the dead to replenish, but such legalities became more fluidly enforced the further from civilized space you went.

<Tag Anyone

Morse was still utilizing an M41A Pulse Rifle, the same as the majority. He had more then enough ammunition, and was not afraid of bringing grenades onto a station. Mostly because he knew the enemy likely would not hesitate to do so, and if they did it would at least give them an advantage. He was more then ready for a slaughter of corporate loyal mercenaries, terrorists, or whatever form of foolish zealot thought it was a good idea to fire on Marines. Though the USCM was not awe inspiring force of immortal death machines it was once perceived as, it was still a heavy weight contender in any fight, and it was about to be proven why.

"Grisham to the fore, Paulson keep back with the motion track up and ready. I wanna shoot shit dead 'fore it even knows we're commin." Morse would likely move about the diamond formation, but he'd keep near Grisham at the front. Morse looked to Quinn.

< Tag Grisham and Paulson

Morse and Quinn had not spoken much since their reconnecting in the unit, and certainly not much since Quinn had found his rank back to what it was when Morse had first met him. And though there was no deep bond between the two beyond having simply been in the Corps too long and having seen too much, Morse knew his skills well and opted to make a point.

"Dangerous keepin' two medics in the same squad." Morse observed, noting his own medical skill. "I aint holdin' you to my order'r integrity a squad. Shit gets fucked'n you gotta go git' to savin' someone's shot to shit, you do what you gotta do." Morse granted Quinn "But quit doin' stupid shit, like hittin' fuckers with yer bear hands or headin' places people don' know where ya are. Stupid shit was Dirk's job, not yers."

Morse did not know why, but Quinn had been taking far more risks then he used to recently, but as long as Quinn was alive, others could be too... losing him could be devastating to their unit and Morse knew that all too well.

< Tag Quinn

Morse levied his Pulse Rifle, and was ready for entry to the Hanger and whatever followed there after.

< Roll Awareness

[eyeball]

" Motion tracker up, aye sarge ready and showing clear currently" Paulson reported, he checked the last of his gear made sure his spare flamer ammo was secure and took his place in the formation.
his heart beat was elevated but not as much as when he had seen those hideous xenos, this was more controlled not fear but not excitement either, paulson swallowed down some bile checked the motion detector again and reported his ready state.

[taimdala]

Samantha Hall made sure her Pulse Rifle and the shotgun on her back were good to go and she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for what was about to go down. She had learned the hard way that combat was no time to have any part of your mind focused on anything other than what was happening immediately around you. Rolling her neck, she opened her eyes, exhaled and flicked off the safety of her Pulse Rifle.....as ready to go as she ever would be.....

She called out to her squad; "Okay second squad, stay frosty and on de alert.....if we got space for it, we're in a diamond formation; Smartgun in de front, I'm on de right, Dmitri on de left, Tanya you dot de drag (tail end Charlie)....if we gotta go single file, I'm in de lead, Dmitri, Tanya, Smartgun in de rear. Clear? Heads on de swivel, look sharp!"

<Tag 2nd squad>

He'd been in a good mood this morning: Oksana had allowed him a peck on her cheek when she'd woken. A baby step, perhaps, but a significant one. When the orders came to mount up, Dmitri didn't dawdle with preparations. He just matter of factly took his leave of Oksana, gave her a reassuring smile, and then got his gear and reported where ordered. After seven years of service, he could have done this in his sleep, so established was the routine. Even so he couldn't help feeling a little spurt of excitement when the orders came.

When Sam called out the marching order for their squad, he nodded to let her know he'd heard, and eased back a little onto the spare crate he sat on. He wasn't slacking off but was taking whatever ease he could before the action started. He had no idea when he'd get the chance to sit or rest again until it was all over. Still, he mused, it seemed pretty straightforward. They were defending a station against terrorists, a combination boaarding action and shoot-em-up. Compared to his most recent drop, this would probably be a cakewalk.

Huh, said the cynic who lived in his head. Perhaps you're forgetting the fucked-up cakes you've been served before, yes? Shit stacked in layers held together with fubar frosting?

Dmitri didn't *quite* roll his eyes, lest his superiors mistakenly think it was meant for them and the chain of command, but his lips did twitch in annoyance. His good mood evaporated and was replaced by a more familiar dour one. If it worsened, he could leigitimately take it out on the terrorists.

[CarbebthePoncho]

Fernandez had the unfortune of being assigned to the helm as the order for the hangar doors was sent to the Gaia Station requiring him to dock into the hangar as it opened, a job he was never entirely comfortable with. One slip of the wrist and a seal doesn't form, a situation most marines jumping ship would love to avoid if they weren't currently wearing an airtight suit...

Fernandez sighed when a response almost immediately came through the comms.

This is Gaia Station Synthetic Operator Knight, Designation JK16M37XG5-D6, Secondary Docking Bay Hangar Doors opening procedure activated. Hurry up, hostile units are on the way. Meet you there for further briefing on actual status.

He wiped sweat off his hands onto his pants and took the controls, straining his eyes to view the readings on screen with as much accuracy as possible, he pushed the USS Heimlich in to create a seal.

GM Approved Roll:
Fernandez noticed his errors just before they occurred. He had misjudged the rotation on the station before the docking commenced, causing the USS Heimlich to connect with the hangar at a less than perfect angle, lightly jostling the entire ship to correct the imperfection. A loud screech of metal rubbing on metal could even be heard throughout the bridge as the crew nearby lost their balance slightly.

No real harm was caused by commotion, but Fernandez felt a little sheepish as he imagined the shit he would get for this from both his fellow Navy service members, and the mercilessly caustic Marines. If everybody gets back safely there will probably be some awkward meals to sit through.

Javier signaled to open the airlock and announced over the intercom, "The hangar bay has been buffed and is ready for boarding."

[Corporal Hicks]

The Marines stepped out into the hangar bay. A few civilians stood nearby, their faces looking somewhat shocked. The USS Heimlich had been an unexpected arrival and they hadn't seen it until thirty seconds before it collided with the hangar floor. Several long silver skid marks showed where the helmsman had come a little too close. The hangar bay itself was quite large and grandiose, very different from the utilitarian construction common in the Marine Corps. It was plain at first glance that Gaia Station was intended to be a desirable place to live.

Sergeant Major Sykes issued hurried directions, "Fourth Squad, Naval detachment, secure this area. First Squad, take point. Second Squad is support, Third Squad on the tail. Move out!" The Marine Squads' objective had been made clear to them before they had landed. They were to move with all possible haste to Hydroponics to assist the pinned Marines from the USS Higgins.
(Actions)

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[LT_Chun]

Henniger fell into his place with 1st Squad in their tactical deployment. He kept his pulse rifle at the low ready and eyed the civvies as they swept by in formation. The landing had been rough but hey that's the Navy.
He listened to the Marines of his new squad over the comm asking questions and reporting small observations. He concentrated on watching his surroundings and blending with his comrades in the familiar patterns of tactical movement. He kept his thoughts to himself and his eyes open. There was always a calm before the storm.

[Quinn]

Morse and Quinn had not spoken much since their reconnecting in the unit, and certainly not much since Quinn had found his rank back to what it was when Morse had first met him. And though there was no deep bond between the two beyond having simply been in the Corps too long and having seen too much, Morse knew his skills well and opted to make a point.

"Dangerous keepin' two medics in the same squad." Morse observed, noting his own medical skill. "I aint holdin' you to my order'r integrity a squad. Shit gets fucked'n you gotta go git' to savin' someone's shot to shit, you do what you gotta do." Morse granted Quinn "But quit doin' stupid shit, like hittin' fuckers with yer bear hands or headin' places people don' know where ya are. Stupid shit was Dirk's job, not yers."

Morse did not know why, but Quinn had been taking far more risks then he used to recently, but as long as Quinn was alive, others could be too... losing him could be devastating to their unit and Morse knew that all too well.

< Tag Quinn

Quinn’s job on board ship had normally been to manage the medical facility. The room designated as the medbay had far too grandiose a name, and was more akin to an office with a table/bed. He had gone through the routine of updating everyone’s medical records and updating vaccinations (much to some Marine’s annoyance). When they were diverted to assist with a pirate raid, he began seeing to his other required chore; his gear. His sidearm had survived with only the suppressor taking damage from the acid, and he had returned the sniper rifle to the armory.

He looked over the TO&E and saw he had been placed in Morse’s squad. This made sense, as corpsman he would be sent to all over the platoon to deal with casualties when and where possible. Given that the squad would likely be equipped with Pulse Rifles (save for the smart gunner), that left the choice of special weapon to him. He picked out an Incinerator, and familiarized himself with the weapon once more. Aboard the tight confines of a station, it could be a dangerous tool to use, but also a deadly weapon in the right hands especially with it’s ability to consume the oxygen in the atmosphere. He added a respirator to his gear, as it might come in use if oxygen in an area became critically low. He sent a digital note to Morse recommending everyone do the same.

Aboard the drop ship, he was the one responsible for checking the harnesses of everyone else in the squad, and he took his job seriously. Inside his own mind, a section was going over the reports on the OPFOR. Marine level equipment and armor, not to mention capability. This would be a hard, stand-up fight. If they were to deal with the bioterror threat, they would need to hit life support and hard. From there, it would be a blitz to the bridge to take the station. To get to either one, they’d have to move through hydroponics.

Morse’s words broke through his reverie, and he listened carefully. He could tell Morse why he had been doing what he’d been doing, but it would only sound like excuses. The man at least did him the courtesy of keeping the admonishment low so others couldn’t hear, which was something. And now wasn’t the time to argue on much of anything.

”Aye Staff Sergeant.” was his reply as he finished checking the straps on Morse’s back. He slapped the man’s shoulder in the standard check of ‘all okay’.

[BarbarianMathematics]

Tanya sat around with her new squad mates. She had long since prepped and double prepped everything she might need, including her pulse rifle, some extra cloth for potential acid burns, and a bit of extra ammunition. When Sergeant Hall issued orders about their formation, Tanya nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am.” She appreciated being in Sam’s squad. She seemed to have more sense than a particular few of the aggressive men around them.
<Tag Hall>

“Lighten up, comrade,” she said to Dimitri, having spotted his dour appearance. “Besides not so smooth landing, we at least are given something to look forward to.” Her Ukrainian accent was apparent to anyone around her.
<Tag Barayev>