Prologue

The Devil Dawgs' sixth campaign.
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wargamerGM
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Prologue

Post by wargamerGM » Tue Aug 17, 2021 9:23 pm

Date: January 22, 2190
Time: 0900 hours (Local Time)
Location: USS John Glenn - Bourgainville Class Attack Transport, USCMC Starbase "Ticonderoga", Summit, Micor System


The troop shuttle came to rest in the main landing bay of the USS John Glenn in a cloud of venting exhaust gasses and the marines of the Devil Dawgs shuffled down the boarding ramp. They were fresh back from liberty and and few of them were still nursing the remnants of hangovers. No-one had told them anything about where they were going, or why. They were received by navy ratings and Marine NCO's of the ships crew who ushered them briskly through to a troop bay filled with lockers, each one already marked with a card bearing the Name, Rank and Serial number of a Devil Dawg. As soon as their gear was stowed, the Marines were directed through to a set of airtight doors into the ships main cryo-bay where what seemed like a small army of med-techs began prepping them for hypersleep. Bio-monitors were fitted, Pre-cryo jabs administered and Cryo-tubes programmed with brisk efficiency and the Devil Dawgs were rapidly packed up in stasis and ready to be shipped to who knows where. Wherever they were going probably wouldn't be pleasant...

Date: February 12th, 2190
Time: 0520 hours (Ship Time)
Location: Foldspace Transit Point, Kruger 90 System


The USS John Glenn made the transition back to normal-space without incident and lit it's main drives, cruising towards the third planet of the system, and the star-fort in orbit around it. 24 hours later the attack transport was maneuvering to dock with the star-fort. Thrusters fired, making fine adjustments to the starship's attitude, relative to the station. Automated docking arms and umbilicals reached out to mate with ports on the star-forts flank and, finally, the John Glenn's main docking port locked with the the docking arm of the base and pressurized, ready for personnel transfer.

Date: February 13th, 2190
Time: 0730 hours (Local Time)
Location: Main Cryo-bay, USS John Glenn, Docked at USCMC Starfort "Nebraska", Ariarcus Mining Colony, Kruger 90 System


The lights in the Cryo-bay flickered on and the auto-resus cycle began on all the Cryo-beds, bringing the marines back from the near-death state they had inhabited for the last 3 weeks. As the bed's began to open up, the doors to the bay hissed open and admitted a different army of med-techs who hustled to the beds and began administering the obligatory health and sanity checks to ensure that each reviving sleeper was in the same physical and mental condition they were in when they began the trip. As the med-techs went about their work a tall man in Marine Corps BDU's wearing the stripes of an E9 strode into the hall.

"Good morning Marines, welcome to Kruger 90. From this moment on you are officially attached to the 4th Marine Infantry Regiment and that means you now work for me. I am Master Gunnery Sergeant John Abrams but you can call me God Almighty! Now get your feet under you, grab a shower, grab your gear and grab some chow from the mess deck. Full briefing in 1 hour."

The Master Gunnery Sergeant turned on his heel and marched out of the cryo-bay leaving the med-techs to their work.

<Tag Everyone>
MGySgt John Abrams
1st MSF, 2nd Div, 1st Batt 30th MIR
Serial Number: A11/TQ1.95.60390E9

LT_Chun
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Re: Prologue

Post by LT_Chun » Wed Aug 18, 2021 6:16 pm

Henniger was bouncing lightly albeit groggily on the balls of his feet when the master guns strolled in and addressed them. He immediately clocked Sergeant Major Sykes from the corner of his eyes. The Devil Dawg's top NCO's reaction would be a guide the Dawgs would follow. If the sergeant major registered surprise, annoyance, or outright hostility, this Op would be a long one. If Sykes' response was unreadable or favorable to the infantry master guns, then things weren't as bad as Henniger would usually assume when being co-opted by a different unit. Especially a unit technically lower down the food chain from a Force Recon strike force.
Either way, an Op was an Op to Henniger. At least until it wasn't. Mother Corps didn't care what he thought anyway.

He grabbed a towel and headed for the showers.
ImageLCPL. J. Henniger USCM
A11/TQ2.0.22146E1
U.S.S. Chimera
Recon Rifleman, Comtech electronics secondary
3rd FTL, Call Sign Devil Dawgs.

Armor and webbing
M41A Pulse Rifle + 7 mags
M40 Grenades x 10
Hand Welder
Service Pistol + 2 Mags
Mk. 1 Combat Knife
Rations/Water
Com-Tech Bypass Device
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eyeball
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Re: Prologue

Post by eyeball » Wed Aug 18, 2021 11:57 pm

Paulson was still half way through name rank and serial number bulshit when the new gunney started his intro. he vaguely wondered whether all gunney's thought they where god almighty and then had his attention snapped back by the medic who was still awaiting answers. he stumbled through them as he always did waking from cryo sleep, somehow he just managed the correct responces and that was about all.
Paulson looked around for other friendly faces nodded to those he saw, showered, dressed and headed to the mess for some breakfast.
ImageLCpl. Robert Paulson
incinerator, 1 spare bottle, motion detector, first aid kit, pistol, knife, 2 frag.
special weapons tech
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lordstrand
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Re: Prologue

Post by lordstrand » Tue Aug 24, 2021 12:46 am

Davros felt the shuttle come to a stop with a light thud that meant the pilot did their job just right and no one was squished. The Devil Dawgs started getting themselves out of their seats and gathering whatever gear they brought with them. "Ladies and gentlemen, please return your tray tables to their upright and locked positions. Please remember to bring all your items with you and take small children by the hand when exiting the vehicle. Thank you for flying the friendly skies." He said as he released his seat restraints. "I need someone to hold my hand as i exit the vehicle. I'm only twee and a hawf yeas old." He said as he shuffled toward the exit door. He was going to have to get out his levity before the mission started. He didnt want Sykes to chew him a new one this mission.

Davros stowed what little gear he brought with him in his "new" locker and lit one last cigarette as he sat on the bench. He began to unlace his boots and get ready for the luxury of the corp cryo-pods. He finished undressing and put out the cigarette. "Time to get poked and prodded." He made his way into the pod bay. It was like a bee hive, techs moving around at an efficient pace, everyone having their roles to play. Davros walked up to what would be his "sleeping" arrangements for however long this ride would be. He held his arms up like that old Da Vinchi sketch and the techs began their work of getting him ready for cryo-sleep. As the techs began to give him a few prep-injections Davros said "Think I'm a few quarts low, can you top off the tank." The med-tech replied "sure." as he squeezed Davros's arm harder than he needed to. Davros winced and clammed up until they were finished with their work. They helped him up into the cryo-pod as some of the drugs kicked in. He slurred out as the pod was closing. "I'm cold who wants to snuggle!!" The lid then closed with a thunk, and he was quickly off to sleep.

Davros's eyes flicked open as the lid from the cryo-bays opened. He swong his feet out of the bay and dangled them just above the floor. A woman med-tech came over and gave him a good once over, asking for name rank and serial number. "Private first class Davros, and I forgot my number can I have yours?" She rolled her eyes and breathed in for a reply. When everyone in the bay heard "Good morning Marines, welcome to Kruger 90. From this moment on you are officially attached to the 4th Marine Infantry Regiment and that means you now work for me. I am Master Gunnery Sergeant John Abrams but you can call me God Almighty! Now get your feet under you, grab a shower, grab your gear and grab some chow from the mess deck. Full briefing in 1 hour." more or less barked at them. The Master Gunnery Sergeant turned and left. "Great another life of the party." He grumbled. Then sighed and rambled off his serial number for the med tech. When she was all done with her work. Davros wandered off for his post cryo-sleep routine.
Image LCpl. Strand Davros - Medic
USCM Special Forces Recon Team
Serial Number: S35/TQ9.4.48100E2

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Morse
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Re: Prologue

Post by Morse » Tue Aug 24, 2021 8:00 pm

Another trip. Another hypersleep. Another sick. Another debrief. The years dragged on and almost nothing ever changed. The circumstances of the moments altered slightly, and these ones were seeming similar to points that he'd been at in the past. But at this point Morse was not sure if it was a vision of his future or something he'd lived through already. Perhaps something that a drugged out fortune teller told him when he was amidst a drunken rampage that he hardly had retained. Whatever the case he was where he was, and the evaluation was what it was.

Diagnosis - Temporary Psychological Break Due to Claustrophobic Conditions

Evaluation - Return to Duty after Claustrophobic Conditioning Training and Psychological Evaluation.

The fact that his rank was intact said more about the Corps necessity for NCOs and a lack of desire to send Morse back out into the general populace than it was his actual capacity for the job. Could he destroy the enemy? Mercilessly? Could he lead a group of marines in combat? Competently. Could die in the service to the flag? Very likely.

But was he breaking apart from the inside out? Worse and worse each day. His internal organs were likely producing enzymes from his years of drinking that were starting to find the cracks in his mind from years of traumatic service.

Yet this was all he knew, and all he could do. So do it he would.

He got up from the tube, threw up in a bin, moved to chow.

He'd not said a word to anyone since his "Episode" that may have landed them their reassignment. At this point he was not much different then a weapon on the rack. Just waiting to have his direction and to do what he was made for.

He was sober and hateful... that was all there really was to be said.
Image-SSG Allen Morse - Squad Leader
-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - M4 Pistol - Med Kit
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Re: Prologue

Post by LT_Chun » Wed Aug 25, 2021 1:31 am

After a tepid shower Henniger dressed in his utilities and followed the shipboard signs to the chow hall. He took a seat across the cafeteria standard Wayu cheap table from Paulson and nodded to SSG Morse when their eyes met briefly. Morse has been his squad leader before he'd been brevet to squad leader himself. He owed his smooth transition from an infantry strike team to Recon to the staff sergeant. Not to mention for covering his ass when things went sideways a couple ops back and they'd been on the same page killingwise.

He saw other Marines from the other outfit moving about. They wore the same standard camouflage utilities the Recon Marines did, but the Dawgs proudly wore the Qualified Parachutist Badge and other specialized patches over their nametapes. It was a small difference but it was like a spotlight to any Colonial Marine who'd embraced the suck for a few years. He ignored them and forced down the reconstituted trash that may have resembled cornbread and eggs in a death row chef's nightmares.

He lit a cigarette and took his time with his second cup of shipboard coffee. Not bad. Whoever these grunts were, they invested in doubling the coffee ration in the machines. He chatted with Paulson and the others at his table about shore leave. They couldn't discuss past Ops, not in mixed company, so they kept their conversations light.

He had no idea what his current assignment would be, but his locker had all his standard kit so he wasn't worried. And if they ran into more of the...Xenomorphs...he shuddered slightly, he had what he needed to keep himself and whoever else was assigned him alive for five minutes.
ImageLCPL. J. Henniger USCM
A11/TQ2.0.22146E1
U.S.S. Chimera
Recon Rifleman, Comtech electronics secondary
3rd FTL, Call Sign Devil Dawgs.

Armor and webbing
M41A Pulse Rifle + 7 mags
M40 Grenades x 10
Hand Welder
Service Pistol + 2 Mags
Mk. 1 Combat Knife
Rations/Water
Com-Tech Bypass Device
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Re: Prologue

Post by Corporal Hicks » Fri Aug 27, 2021 1:26 am

Sykes sat somewhat sullenly with his arms crossed. He was trying to appear impassive but inside he was boiling over. After so much shore leave he had almost started to feel human again. The woman he had met had made him feel valued and important if only briefly and superficially. But now was the splash of cold water that brought him back to reality. He had been dressed down and chewed up for everything that went wrong on the last mission. It was outrageous. They had received all of four hours to prep for the underwater disaster and they lacked the training that would be needed to do the job right. Not only this but they had been transferred out of their laissez-faire command and reattached to a new regiment that didn't give a damn what they had done. On top of all this, his own guilt added immense weight to the criticism of the brass. Whether he had truly been responsible for the deaths was not important, the significant fact was that he felt the responsibility like a millstone around his neck. The more just part of his personality tried to be fair to this new Master Guns. After all, his rank patch was not visible from where the Gunny stood. But he felt a certain irritational outrage at the condescending and angry look he had received, or at least imagined he received.

Danny Sykes' mind was in a bad place.

He made subtle eye contact with Lieutenant Harper, a shared look of veiled frustration. But then he took a step back and thought about his body language. He uncrossed his arms and legs and saw Henniger looking at him. He grinned lightheartedly back, "Man, is that what I sound like?" He was the leader and it was his duty and obligation to set the tone for the rest of them, and nothing going on internally should impact the smooth and patient cooperation with their new comrades. He would have to watch himself to avoid giving off the wrong vibes. Being a leader meant surrendering the whims and emotions of individuality (to a certain degree) and instead becoming an agent of a broader goal.
ImageSgtMaj. Danny Sykes - Platoon NCO
USCM Special Forces Recon Team
Serial Number: D26/TQ6.3.48412E9
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Re: Prologue

Post by LT_Chun » Fri Aug 27, 2021 4:55 pm

Henniger noticed the way Sykes was brooding out of the corner of his eye while sharing a laugh with Paulson. His earlier thought of using the sergeant major as a benchmark for their situation came back. Though the senior NCO gave him a small smile after he'd noticed Henniger's gaze, he'd already seen the frustration written all over the grizzled Top's expression.

Well. Fuck.

He pulled out a wrinkled pack of Targets and lit up. Henniger internally and unconsciously switched from grunts and new outfit possibly okay, to fuck them where it hurts. Time to really look out for his fellow Dawgs. Hell, he wasn't even currently a leader until he got an assignment. Just another lance cooley Reconnaissance operator. So he could afford to watch the new command carefully.
ImageLCPL. J. Henniger USCM
A11/TQ2.0.22146E1
U.S.S. Chimera
Recon Rifleman, Comtech electronics secondary
3rd FTL, Call Sign Devil Dawgs.

Armor and webbing
M41A Pulse Rifle + 7 mags
M40 Grenades x 10
Hand Welder
Service Pistol + 2 Mags
Mk. 1 Combat Knife
Rations/Water
Com-Tech Bypass Device
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Re: Prologue

Post by Medic Guy » Tue Sep 07, 2021 3:52 pm

Clint went through cycles of cryo and waking, medical exams and trying to remember where he was. Then a gunney came in and started throwing around a bunch of boot camp jargon at them like they were fresh marines. Given the marines time in service, he couldn't say he was enthused at the treatment they had just gotten.

He caught a shower and threw on his fatigues before heading for the mess.
ImageCorporal Clint McKenna
USCM Special Forces Recon Team
Serial Number: L69/EA5.2.31782M9

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Pvt. Isabel Orozco - Rifleman; formerly of the U.S.S. Shiloh Marine Detachment, currently on public relations campaign.
Private Dave Halbert - unknown location

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BarbarianMathematics
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Re: Prologue

Post by BarbarianMathematics » Mon Sep 27, 2021 7:35 am

A beating heart out in the cold of deep space, frozen and locked away in a released cargo pod from a botched mission... until the sound of the intercom goes off and the hissing sound of the cryotube opening finally woke Tanya up from her nightmarish slumber.

After a good portion of time, LCpl. Tanya Sokolova was just now making her way back to be stationed once more after her incident, albeit back in one of the tubes she so despised being in, given her previous nightmares. However, her time on Earth was still a bit restful and she got to take a little bit of leave before they sent her through training again, making sure they checked on her physique to ensure everything was in proper order. Bone structure: in working order. Muscle structure: slightly diminished from the recovery, but nothing that a month or so of training wouldn't fix. Eyesight: as good as ever, running the range through with quite a few rounds to make sure she was on top of accuracy (though on the field, she knew anything was possible). All basic functions and mental functions for service: check (though what counted as passing for mental faculties sometimes was questionable). Good to be put back into service: check.

Overall, the timing was right, so they shot her off of the home world and out into the abyss of space back to the Devil Dawgs.
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Coming out of the deep sleep, Sokolova slowly pushes open the cryo tube's door, finding herself being fairly disoriented as the room she found herself in wasn't much warmer than the tube itself, immediately giving off her name, rank, and number before she got a chance at getting some clothing and hitting the showers.

After finishing and taking a quick shower and getting dressed in something more than simple skivvies, she went over to the mess hall to get something to get something to eat and drink. Grabbing some coffee and what passed off as a gourmet meal compared to the usual, she looks around at who all was new and who she recognized in the group, now that she was back.
ImageLCpl. Tanya Sokolova
USCM Special Forces Recon Team
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Corporal Nikolai Pushkin - ComTech
(Currently recovering)

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