Turn 1: Freezing Floors

[JuanPerez]

<November 30, 2189, 6:00 am (board time)

USS Chimera

Crusader-Class Super-Stealth Long-Range Assault Troop Transport

Currently on approach to Polaris System

ETA 36 hours - Cryo Wake-Up-Sequence Initiated>

Although being a seasoned traveller by now, Daniela Harper still hated this moment every time. One second midst in sweet dreams, embracing you, just a second later, interrupted by strange smells, noises and visual signals, that don't seem to fit in, only to become aware of being pulled out of cryo. Being CO had the doubtfull charm of being pulled out first. Slowly, the cryo wakeup procedure pulled her into reality. Oh yes, she was on board of this new super-hot star-ship, that no radar could detect at least in theory. Oh yes, she was the commanding officer of the Devil Dawgs and an alpha order got her here, in the midst of a break-up with her boyfriend back at home. Oh yes, the floor was freezing.

Leaving the cryo-tube slowly, she took a few dizzy steps, fighting back the urge to puke successfuly. A man approached her, wearing the uniform of a synthetic executive officer.

"Ma'am would you ..." ... he began

"Knock it off" ... she replied ... "and give me 60 seconds"

"Yes, Ma'am, shall i lend you a hand" ... he asked

"Don't you even dare" ... she replied

Sixty Seconds later she sat on a gurney and the synthetic XO examined her eye-pupil reaction, using a medical instrument

"Name and Rank" ... he asked

"Daniela Harper, First Lieutenant, USCM Force Recon" ... she replied

"Serial Number" ... he asked

"A zero - eight - TQ - Three zero four five zero one three E two" ... she replied

"Thank you, Ma'am, you are cleared for duty" ... he said

"Thank you, Knight, and now go and get my boys and girls back to reality" ... she said

She stood up from the gurney and went straight to the shower.

cryo1.jpg (31.86 KiB) Viewed 17057 times

[Corporal Hicks]

Sergeant Major Danny Sykes suddenly felt the cold and miserable bite of reality. Torn from his dreams, he opened his eyes and saw a painfully bright light overhead. Realizing where he was, he grabbed the frozen cigar from his pocket and shoved it into his mouth. He sat up and peered around at the other cryotubes through bleary eyes.

Knight the synthetic was already standing in front of his tube. Sykes had gotten approval to keep the synthetic after its assigned space station at Orion's Belt had been destroyed. With only a few upgrades, it was ready for military service. He told himself that the familiar face would be a psychological benefit to the men, although he always felt a certain obligation to anyone or anything he served with.

Sykes stood up on the cold metal of the floor, his brain actively ignoring the electrical impulses which informed it that his feet were freezing. "G'morning Knight," he said in a somewhat distorted voice due to chewing his cigar.

"Good morning. Name and rank?" The synthetics always had to run through this drill with everyone, to see if they were right in their head.
"Sergeant Major Sykes, Daniel C." he replied.

"Serial number?" “Delta two six, slash Tango Quebec six, dot three, dot four eight four one two Echo niner.”

"And your MOS?" "Command."

As the synthetic finished its medical check, Sykes turned to the cryotubes where the others were waking up. He barked loudly and enthusiastically: "Rise and shine, ladies! You don't get no breakfast in bed! Get your asses moving, it's another glorious day in the Corps!"
<Tag everyone>

[LT_Chun]

Henniger sat up in his cryo cradle. He rubbed his eyelids with the back of his knuckles and looked around blearily. The sergeant major was strolling down the row giving the age-old platitudes that came with being a spaceborn Marine grunt.
Henniger ran a hand through his hair and slapped his plasteel dog tags off his collar bone where they'd lain for months. He saw Knight checking a few of his platoon mates out and swung his legs over the cradle and slid to his feet. He straightened his OD boxers and headed for his locker. He pulled his cammie trousers on, buckled his web belt, clean socks, then cinched his boot laces up. He knocked out some pull-ups off a strut in the overhead to loosen his shoulders up and pulled a clean tshirt over his head. Once his cammie blouse was buttoned and tucked in, he slapped his cover on his head and rolled his sleeves up.
He shook his head a final time and sat on the small bench in front of his locker. He waited for orders while he fished a cigarette from his breast pocket.

[wargamer]

Kelly groaned as the pink cotton-wool fog of hyper-sleep drained from his mind and cold, harsh reality reasserted itself. He opened his eyes and flexed his limbs as the cryo-tube's transpari-steel lid whined open.
Cold, white electric lights flickered on in the ceiling panels above him and the clean-shaven, immaculately turned-out face of one of the ships synthetics floated into view.

"Welcome back online. May I ask your name and rank?" The synth asked in a bright, cheerful voice, beginning the regulation psych check.
"Private First Class Kelly, Darren." Kelly responded, dully, swinging his feet over the side of the cryo-bed and gingerly touching them to the uncomfortably cold floor.

"Your Serial number?"
“Delta Four Four Slash Tango Quebec Nine dot Two One dot Four Seven Six Four Five Echo Two.” Kelly's head felt like it was full of cotton wool and there was an unpleasant, metallic, taste in his mouth.

"And your MOS?"
"Eight Four Oh Four, Corpsman" The cryo-bay was filling with groggy looking marines, stumbling from their coffin-like berths. Some of them moving with a purpose, others wandering, apparently aimlessly. Kelly clambered to his feet with another groan at his protesting muscles and joined the general flow of humanity in the direction of the lockers rooms. He located the locker assigned to him in short order and dressed quickly, pulling on his BDU pant's and shirt before heading to the mess hall where he hoped there was a large cup of coffee in his immediate future.

<tag anyone conscious>

[Pale Rider]

Gaston was watching his father leave for the what would be his last time. He was proud of the man before him was from a long line of Military service. One of Gaston's ancestors his name sake had served in the US Coast Guard back during WWII and received a Purple Heart while fighting a fire on board a cruiser that had been Kamikazed. That Gaston's son had served in the Navy as a jet airplane mechanic aboard the USS Enterprise during Vietnam. Larry Gaston's son had attempted to serve in the US Marines but was medically disqualified due to childhood injuries. His daughter had enlisted in the Marines and now her great grandson was a Marine.
His dream slowly morphed as a chemical cocktail was sent flowing through his bloodstream. O2 levels were cranked up as the Sevoflurane was drawn from his lungs. This allowed him to awaken within 5-10 minutes of the ventilation kicking in. He slowly opened his eyes, his eyelashes pulled slowly away from his skin, nothing a hot shower would remove.

"Rise and shine, ladies! You don't get no breakfast in bed! Get your asses moving, it's another glorious day in the Corps!" Sergeant Major Sikes could be heard speaking in a familiar Drill Sergeant tone. With a soft click the canopy locked complete in place and Gaston, threw his legs over the side of the Cryo-Chamber.
"Sergeant Major, when isn't it a glorious day?" Gaston's voice was a rich baritone and belied his Southern Heritage.
<Tag Sykes>

He reached down and slid a small packet from within the chamber and pulled out a second set of Dog Tags. Inscribed on the was Bennett, Tucker 3642111444. He slipped the tags around his neck, as he was finishing this up Knight stepped up to him and shined a light into his eyes.
"Name and rank?" The synthetic's voice was warm like an older Uncle.
"Bennett, Gaston Private"
"Serial number?"

"1956039"
"Your MOS?"
"Smartgunner"
"You are free to hit the showers!"
"Thanks Knight!"

Gaston made his way through cold hallway, stopping first by his weapons locker to inspect his weapons. Dixie, his Smartgun and Little Thumper, his shotgun were both in fine order. He then hit the gym and cranked off 150 situps and 75 pushups. At 19, he was 1.905 meters (6'3") and the doctor at his intake suggested he wasn't through growing. He weighed 102.512 kilograms (226 lbs). His sandy blonde hair was cut into a flattop and his ice blue eyes drank in everything.
After the shower he hit the galley and settled down with the Marine Corps version of Coffee, Sunnyside-Up Eggs, Country Ham, Biscuit, and Grits.
<Tag Whomever>

[TemplarGFX]

Despite the synthetic they called Knight explaining to Dwight what he will go through coming out of Cryo for the first time, he still was not prepared for how disorientated he was. Reality came back in stages, first muffled noises became voices, then the dream world faded to a bright red void and finally the feeling of the cryo bed beneath him. Through his closed eyes he could tell it was bright but he didn't want to open them, was he still dreaming?
Dwight realised he could hear Sargeant Sykes answering Knight's questions and the sound of his new NCO's voice immediately brought him back to reality. He met the man briefly when boarding the USS Chimera and any doubts he had about the seriousness of this new assigment were immediately removed. He sat up as the NCO gave a rousing wake up call and blinked hard at bright lights of the room. Looking around he saw several marines with looks on their faces that summed up exactly how he felt himself which was reassuring.
With a suprising amount of effort he swung his legs over and placed his feet on the floor. The steel plating was ice cold next to the Cryo Chamber and he almost hesitated, realising how rediculous that is he stood up and began stretching and testing his joints. Knight was just a few pods down running the medical checks so Dwight stood and waited his turn letting his limbs get their feeling back.

[maxvale76]

Samantha Hall woke up and immediately let out a huge yawn and stretched. She blinked her big brown eyes a few times and delicately put her feet down on the freezing cold floor, muttering a few curses at that and then letting out a sigh as the android Knight came by to ask silly questions....

"I'm Sergant Samantha Hall; Rifleman and Second Squad Leader, serial number 407-92-3440-Alpha, you happy now mon?"; she finished with a slight teasing half-grin, half mock-angry look.....seeing the Synthetic COMPLETELY ignore it, Sam just sighed and went to the showers and after getting clean, she quickly got dressed.

Coming back over to where Sykes, Morse, McKenna and Sokolova were gathering, she smiled at them all and said; "Mornin' peoples....nice to see dat de Corps is giving responsibility to you two", she said warmly to Clint and Tanya. Then with a more serious tone, she turned to Sykes; "We seem to have a bigger group den normal Sergeant Major.....dat mean we can expect really big problems?"

<Tag Knight>
<Tag Sykes, Morse, Clint and Tanya>

[eyeball]

Paulson slept like a baby in cryo, but alas woke up like one too, hungry miserable and nearly always ready to cry. he had been mid dream, come to think of it it seemed he was always mid dream when the bliss broke and reality rushed back in.
It was cold damn cold his reactions were sluggish and his mouth seemed to be non functioning. a med tech asked him some questions and he had no idea what was going on or what the answers were, suddenly there were two med techs and knight all standing in front of him with torches and more questions, slowly they became a little clearer.
"Name?" some one said " your Knight!" replied Paulson
"no your name!" came a stronger demand with more light shining in eyes, "Paulson, Robert" he replied still a little disorientated.
"Rank?" came the next request, "um was all Paulson managed before some one added a "and number" to the request
a small fog seemed to be preventing Paulson from recalling these seemingly important details.
knight placed a mask over his face and then held some thing on his arm there was a short hissing sound and a small pain at the site, suddenly the lights where very bright and colours crisp and tasted slightly purple,
"Fuck me, Robert Paulson, lance corporal , 76588904, special weapons " he blurted out through the mask
someone chuckled off to his right and knight took the mask away " off you go" he said "food will improve things and stop that weird taste...eventually"

[Medic Guy]

It was dark, very dark. Clint flipped down his infrared (IR) reticle. The air felt damp in here and it didn't taste right or smell right. Honeysett came running through the door and two of them were hot on his tail. Caleija went to raise her weapon, but was too late as one of them split her apart like a zipper. Her blood dripped from it's tail, she was splayed out on the ground like a wishbone, her neck and head the only thing keeping the two halves together. Blood pooled out, flames warmed up the room. Clint opened fire as he backed himself into a corner away from the two black creatures. Screams from the rest of the squad, pale spiders flew back and forth across the room. The screams of his fellow marines was mixed with the screams of the warriors. A ventilation duct cover came tumbling down over his head as two long black arms ending in claws reached for his head. It's saliva dripping down on his face as it opened its mouth to reveal the horror inside. He felt himself being pulled up towards its mouth. He swung his fists towards the creatures head, hoping against all hope to escape his fate.

A dull series of thuds sounded as Clint's fists struck out at the interior of the cryotube, scraping the skin off the top of his knuckles. His eyes opened to the bright lights, not remembering where he was at for a moment. Not combat, not Acheron he thought to himself willing his heart rate to slow back down and not freak out the new guys waking up. The dreams were always the worst for him coming out of cryo. He looked up as a synthetic approached to do his post sleep check. It looked to be the new female synthetic. He tried to find his inner peace so that he did not get placed on a psych watchlist or forced into early retirement.

<Will and motivation>
<tag Frances Bishop>

"Name and rank?"

"Clint McKenna, Corporal"

"Serial number and rank Corporal?"

"I...I can't remember the number, my job is to try and keep everybody alive."

"Serial number and rank?" came the question again.
"lincoln six nine...echo alpha five dot...two dot three one seven eight two mike nine.
Squad leader of third squad" he offered a smile and tried to keep the scraped knuckles out of sight.

After being released, he headed over and used the head, rinsed off his knuckles and pulled his BDU pants on. He pulled his shotgun out and checked to make sure it was still full. He then placed the shotgun in the scabbard and slung it over his body. Grabbing his shooting glasses and putting his data tablet in his left cargo pocket, he walked over to Hall, Sykes, and the other squad leaders.

"Good to see you all in such a good mood" Clint offered with a smile, knowing some handled cryo better than others.

<tag Hall, Morse, Sykes, and Sokolova>

[BarbarianMathematics]

Seemingly, the all too familiar dream of being stuck out in space in a silent tomb crept over Tanya’s mind during the cryosleep. The feeling of being forever lost with only stars lightyears away from civilization or any form of life in the deep coffin of frozen space…
And then there is a brief light and warmth that starts to come around, blurry at first. A few blinks later, Tanya woke up, finding herself in the all too familiar tube down to the skivvies. Having a moment to close her eyes once more to deal with the pain from opening her eyes from the darkness of sleep, she moves her hands up to them, feeling the heavy weight of her arms. Once the blood starts flowing into them again, she finally gives a gentle groan, pushing herself up from the back wall of the cryotube. Having a chill sent through her, not from the cold of the cryotube, but one of a previously disturbing fear hit her from a previous mission, until she saw there was no alarm signaling in the background. She breathed a sigh of relief and muttered to herself, “Niet. Not like last time… Good.”

Pushing herself up from the walls, she opens the cryotube the rest of the way, moving herself out of the tube and to the cold metal floor. Hearing the familiar footsteps of the synthetic nearby, she tries straightening up, brushing her bedhead back from however long she was in cryosleep.

“Name and rank?” He asked.
”Lance Corporal Tanya Sokolova, sir,” she responded.
”Serial number?” He called out again, clearly going through one of the routines he was told to carry out.
”Delta seven four slash tango Quebec… uhh… six dot nine dot three one nine… uhh… four five echo three,” she called out, hesitating every now and then to recall the numbers from memory, but taking a little while still as the fog from the cryosleep still loomed in her mind. It was clearing, but still ever present for the first few minutes.
”And your MOS?” he inquired once more.
”Squad leader, Rifleman,” she said clearly that time, hesitating a moment until he nodded and let her go on her way.
Making a beeline for her clothing, she gathers it up before heading to the showers to get herself warmed up a bit and get her mind cleared.

…

After freshening up, hair in order, suit on, and all prepared for a meal, she goes into the mess hall. Grabbing one of the steel trays that’s available, she makes herself something that resembles one of the classic military versions of an American meal, but mixed together in a way to at least try to resemble something she had back home what felt like not long ago, making sure to slather on a little sauce to help it all go down smooth. Looking at the coffee, she was thinking against it for a moment due to its lack of real flavor and bitter aftertaste, but she finally decided to grab some of it, figuring it would be at least something in her system before breakfast started. Noticing Sykes, Morse and McKenna having found their seats, she chimed in ”Privet! One mission and ready for sitting with big dogs, da?”.

She chuckled at her statement, having a seat and preparing her flatware before hearing Sam came by, giving her greeting and statement:

”Mornin' peoples....nice to see dat de Corps is giving responsibility to you two.”

Chuckling a little bit, she nodded. “Da. Only just got on board the Devil Dawgs niet long ago and already giving me a big role.”

Having finally started with her breakfast, she looks up to see another face join the growing crowd of people in the mess hall.

"Good to see you all in such a good mood,"

she heard Clint call out.
She shrugs, then gives a smile, ”Better than one of my previous times in cryo, da? Complete with all American breakfast like five-star hotel. What better way to wake up in the morning?”
She gave a chuckle after her response, then makes room for him to sit.

<Tag Sykes, Morse, Clint and Hall>

[LT_Chun]

Henniger had made his way to the ships mess. It was huge compared to the Heimlich and most other Conestoga class light ships. He'd shower after. Coffee was his primary concern. Then scuttlebutt as to what the op was.

He saw Paulson bleary eyed wandering through the food dispensers. He grabbed a tray and got in line behind him.

"Sleep well?"

<tag Paulson>

After he had what Weyu claimed were 'eggs scrambled, processed-rehydrated, two servings' and 'bacon/sausage soyprene reconstituted' he grabbed two coffees and headed for the bench near his squad leader. Not next to him, he'd probably be eating with the other NCOs, but near enough to speak with him. He made a space for Paulson at his high school-esque plastic table and sipped at his coffee.

<tag Morse/Paulson>

[JuanPerez]

2XO KNIGHT

Knight oversaw the cryo-wakeup-procedure of the human marines and, according to protocol, did the mandatory medical examination on some of the marines. Although his internal databases were updated prior with informations about typical post-cryo-wakeup human behaviour, there was particularly one incidient, which confused him. A female marine named Hall answered his initial medical questions correctly and asked him, if he would be happy about the answer. He ran serveral calculations about the answers data, her facial mimik and her voice's timbre and could not come up with a solution. So, after finishing his medical examination job, he approached Hall later ...

"Excuse me, Sergeant Hall, would please be so kind and explain something to me, that i do not understand. You answered the mandatory medical questions correctly, but asked ME, if i am happy with it. This does not make sense to me. Also i calculated with a probabilty of 82,6 percent, taking your subtone and mimics into account, that you do not really want me to be happy. Is this something, that humans call sarcasm?"
<Tag Hall>

[lordstrand]

Strand work from his dreamless cryo-sleep, groggy and sore but still in one whole piece. He rubbed his eyes with his index and thumb to and tried to focus on something. Sitting up he rubbed his right shoulder and tried to work the kinks out. He had injured it as a kid and while there wasn't any lasting damage it still ached a little if he laid in one position too long.

He was always surprised at how much energy he had after the cryo-sleep, but then again it was the most "sleep" he got on the regular, insomnia is a bitch, but he was use to it by now. He took note of some of the others "wake up" routines, noticing how some came too a little more "energetic" than others, he decided its probably better not to ask until he knew everyone better. Waiting his turn for his eval he sat dangling his feet back and forth like a little kid.

The synthe came walking over, he thinks it name was Knight, he was bad with name but he'd remember eventually. "Name and rank?" In the same tone and cadence he had asked the other marines before. "Private, meat popsicle reporting." Strand grinned at the joke but it quickly faded as he realized it was lost to the synthe. Sigh. "Private, Strand Davros." Looking around to see if anyone heard the joke.
<tag anyone>
Quickly mumbling off the string of numbers that stood for him. He decided to try one more joke.
"Your MOS?"
"I plug holes with my fingers"
Noting the still blank stare from the synth he sighs again, and mumbles "Corpsman."
The synthe moved on to check whomever was left. Strand shook he head and mumbled "droids"

Strand hopped off the pod, noting the freezing floor. He loved that cold feeling, growing up in a cold environment had its perks, but man did heat suck. He walked up to his weapons locker going over his equipment once or twice, or three times. Mild OCD sucked sometimes. He then went to his locker and pulled on his clothing, and popping a vitamin concoction that he found helped with that post wake up nausea. He lit up a smoke and walked to the gym to work out the last of the stiffness in his muscles.
Nothing too serious, just a quick jog and some light lifting to keep his metabolism up. Then took care of the 3 SSS's, the whole routine was quick and took no time in the grand scheme of things.

He lit another smoke and made his way to the chow deck, nodding to whomever he passed.
<tag anyone>
He poured himself a nice cup of hot coffee. "Ah, life's blood." He said in his all too loud voice to no one in particular. Hoping there would be "scrapple" or whatever passed for it he made his way to the food line. He spooned out some eggs and "meat" onto his plate taking special care to make sure none of it touched. After sitting he quickly downed his first cup of coffee and went for a second. After that he took his time with the second. "A banquet fit for a king." Shoveling the food into his mouth one at a time eggs, biscuit, some type of gritty concoction, then finally his favorite the meat. "So what's the briefing like here, short sweet and to the point and let us study the details or detailed oriented? Anyone know if there are holos of past missions? Trying to find out what were in for and what I can expect from who."
<tag no one inparticular>

[eyeball]

Paulson was on his second coffee when Henniger asked him if he had slept well, "It all still tastes odd " paulson replied, "the lights are way bright and my feet are still cold but sure, slept like a baby, it's the waking up that's a bitch!" Came his responce. "you?" he inquired
Paulson took a slug of coffee and pushed eggs and hash browns round a plate, they really did still taste mildly purple, he wasn't even sure how that was possible, but thats what his brain was telling him.

[Corporal Hicks]

"Sergeant Major, when isn't it a glorious day?" Gaston's voice was a rich baritone and belied his Southern Heritage.
<Tag Sykes>

"I don't know, I never seen one!" he replied enthusiastically. After shouting some more or less encouraging adages about the Marine Corps, Danny Sykes made his way to breakfast. He lit the cold cigar and sat down to a warm breakfast and a hot coffee. He glanced around him, seeing four squad leaders. His responsibilities seemed to have doubled, but he was used to commanding larger groups after all the joint operations of the last two campaigns. At least now he only had to worry about Marines.

He was pretty pleased with the squad leaders he had. Morse and Hall were of course more experienced than anyone could ever hope for. He barely had to do anything last campaign with two capable Sergeants under him. Quinn hadn't turned out too well as a leader, but Quinn had gone back to his own unit.

Clint McKenna... Sykes knew him from way back. McKenna had been lucky enough to serve on Operation Acheron, that complete shit-show where the Sarge and El-Tee both got killed leaving Sykes in command as a mere Corporal. As he told himself, the mission had set up his career and ruined his life. He didn't remember much about McKenna beyond a general good impression.

Tanya Sokolova... The Russian spotter had turned out very well in her six months with the unit. Sykes had gotten approved to transfer her over, made easier since the previous spotter, Linda Greer, was dead. He would rather stick with someone who he could trust and who already meshed well with the unit than take a chance on a stranger. Regardless, she was squad leader now and he would have to help her out a little extra since she was new to the job.

"We seem to have a bigger group den normal Sergeant Major.....dat mean we can expect really big problems?"

Danny tapped his cigar on the ashtray and smiled. "Hopefully not as bad as last time, but yeah, it's a stinker. At least we have enough people to get the job done for once."
<Tag Sam Hall>

"Good to see you all in such a good mood" Clint offered with a smile, knowing some handled cryo better than others.

"I'm always in a good mood, Corporal. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?" Sykes smiled again as he said this.
<Tag Clint McKenna>

"Privet! One mission and ready for sitting with big dogs, da?"

"You know it, big dog. Glad to have you with us."
<Tag Sokolova>