Event Glitter and Trauma

Discussion in 'Open Roleplay' started by Raziel, Nov 4, 2018.

  1. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

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    The man in her grasp went limp as the belter lashed out at him, clocking him over the head. With no real vested interest in the young doctor's well-being anymore, Violet haphazardly tossed him aside and let his head crack against the metal floor. He groaned in pain, clutching at what she assumed was a broken leg.

    Serves ya right, ya bastard.
    She thought bitterly to herself, then moved to help Remi onto his feet by offering him an outstretched hand.

    It was obvious that the belter was disoriented, but she couldn't tell if it was because he was hurt or drunk. Perhaps a combination of both. The telltale scent of alcohol was plain as day on the stranger.

    Maybe it'd be best if she left him here too. She considered the idea, but didn't give it much credence. That was something Dieter would have done, but she wasn't so coldhearted. The belter had helped her, even if it had been entirely by mistake, so she owed him.

    "There is nae much time for explanations. I'm just as confused as you are. Are y'hurt?"

    @Remi Lièvremont
     
  2. Shay Lockley

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    The young doctor could hardly look at Buttersworth. This wasn't right. The pirate captain was asking him to convince the UNN that he wasn't a hostage. Doing so would give the impression that he had joined the NPS Saxon out of his own free will, which wasn't exactly the truth.

    He'd only just started to understand things from the Saxon's perspective. From Captain Buttersworth's perspective. Neither he nor his crew, Rachel Lei, Li Vega, or anyone else - were monsters. Rough around the edges in their struggle to survive, but not bloodthirsty killers. At least not directly, so far that he's seen.

    A small part of him had only just started seeing why they did what they did. During his brief time on Ceres, he'd seen how the Belt had endured enough. He'd seen the injustices inflicted upon them by the Solar System's two competing nations. The disregard of Belter wellbeing by the Inner powers.

    It wasn't right. None of it was right. But it didn't meant he would have to declare himself a pirate, or a terrorist - which was what Captain Buttersworth was encouraging him to do. At least that was his impression, even if the old man was sure that his broadcast would indeed save lives, as he claimed.

    The dilemma weighed down on Shay heavily, and he could no longer shoulder the burden. Only weeks ago he had a steady job as a locum doctor on Ceres, at a well-established hospital, taking on new experiences and progressing his career. Now he was on the run, on a pirate ship, having been coerced to join its crew for fear of having his involvement on Thoth exposed - an expedition he'd practically been duped into, unwittingly by Jake, who he knew was just as innocent in this entire fiasco.

    No, the worst case scenario wouldn't be that he'd simply end up where he was now, if he was the make the broadcast. If he declared himself the way Buttersworth had suggested, he'd be classified as a criminal. A terrorist, by his own government. He'd never be able to go back to Earth, work as a legitimate doctor, or advance his career in any meaningful, professional way. Nothing beyond fixing broken bones and plugging bullet holes in resource-poor environments. The Saxon's medical bay seemed impressive, but Shay wondered how much of that was for show, as a means to entice and recruit him.

    Shay began shaking his head, first slowly, then quicker. "No," he said. "No. There is no glory in any of this," he said, refusing to believe the Captain, eyes staring blankly ahead towards the comm transmitter.

    Just as he was about to reach for it, the tightbeam receiver on the console nearby crackled to life.
    For Shay, who'd been on the verge of breaking down, the firm voice of UNN authority sounded almost comforting - the voice of his countrymen, the voice of his own, completely unlike the mercenaries his parents had sent to retrieve him off of Ceres.

    He was once lost, but now he'd been found. This was his chance to wriggle out of this mess. Shay grabbed the comm, presuming it had been switched to the proper broadcast channel, seeing as Buttersworth had handed it to him earlier.

    "UNN vessel, this is Shay Lockley" he began, glancing over at Captain Buttersworth, wondering if the old man knew what he was about to say, and terrifyingly unsure whether his next words would cost him his life at the hands of pirates.

    "Get me out of here."

    The young man kept his grip on the transmitter, and began backing away from the centre console, as if readying himself for a desperate escape. His eyes fixed on Buttersworth, waiting to see what the man's reaction might be.

    @Cpt_Buttersworth | @Gwenaël Suess
     
    #62 Shay Lockley, Dec 2, 2018
    Last edited: Dec 2, 2018
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  3. Rachel Lei

    Rachel Lei XO of the Saxon

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    Saxon - Cargo Bay

    Rachel walked through the cramped alleyways of the cargo bay, handing out emergency meal packets as she went, another crew member behind her handing out small 100ml bottles of purified, recycled water. They were accepted graciously, though some of the refugees, mostly the obvious inners, seemed to eye her and her hand cannon nervoursly. She tried her best to smile, a task that was quite alien to her, to be reassuring.

    Her terminal chirped at her, a ping from the New Providence AI node that was aboard the Saxon. It had flagged a security camera feed of the bridge for her attention. The doctor, @Shay Lockley stood there, he looks...afraid? Angry? It was hard to tell, he faced the Captain whos shoulders were slumped, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. She couldn't hear much over the noise of the crowded cargo bay...She found a quiet area and stuck an earbud in her ear, pairing it with her terminal, by that time she had only heard the end of what the Captain was saying...Followed by the radio chatter of the UNN ship, once again requesting that the Captain surrender to save his ship and crew.

    As much as Rachel had accepted that by now she would probably die a brutal death in a firefight with the UNN...She was not entirely happy about the fact, much less if it was because the Captain was simply too proud to concede defeat when he had backed himself into a corner. Worse still, the man had flown them into the middle of a firefight with the UNN and MCRN, after having just ended a pursuit with another UNN ship which...for all she knew was an irradiated wreck somewhere between the belt and Jupiter. And instead of hightailing it to one of the dozens of moons around the gas giant, he lands and takes on refugees...

    The shook her head, her little introspective moment shatterd by the Doctors voice, a voice she had actually begun associating logic and comfort with...Seeing as she had spent almost a week in his care after being shot. "Get me out of here"

    Oh shit...
    She thought, standing up from the wall she was leaning on and making for the ladder to the Saxon's main corridor. Shit...shit...shit...Every step she took, she swore quietly to herself...in inner no less...seems like the Captains inya language had rubbed off on her more than she thought. On the feed, the moment the Doctor had spoke those words into the radio, the Cpatain and turned away and staggered into his ready room, the red lock icon glowing on the outside door. Well at least he didn't shoot him in the face...She hadn't made it far...There were just too many people. She pushed, climbed and squeezed her way through the crowded hallways, up the ladders with children hanging off the, through more corridors as she neared the bridge, silently hoping as she went, she would not hear the telltale crack of a gunshot, hoping it would not result in the Doctors lifeless body drifting in a bubble of blood, floating through the bridge.

    Finally she made it to the bridge...She didn't even look at who was present, her vision was a tunnel focussed soley on the ready room door. She crossed the small bridge in a headbeat before she hammered on the door. "Captain! Cap get out here! What the fuck are you doing?"

    She pulled up her terminal, "Missus, open the ready room door!"

    "The Captain had engaged the lock, to disable you must enter your ovveride co-"

    "Lei, quebec, alpha, five, eight eight, dash, four, alpha, tango, beta!" She practically shouted it into the terminal, her eyes starting to sting.

    The lock chimed happily as it changed from red to green and she wrenched it open.

    "Oh god...Doctor! Get in here!"

    @Shay Lockley
     
    #63 Rachel Lei, Dec 2, 2018
    Last edited: Dec 2, 2018
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  4. Karen Ashoka

    Karen Ashoka Pilot for the MCR

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    In orbit over Ganymede Station

    Karen watched as the UNN fleets began to retreat, the Atrax had also received orders to retreat back to MCRN lines, however, several minutes had passed and no new orders had come down. Karen allowed herself a moment to relax, feeling her body float almost weightless in the avoid, the stars wheeling overhead as the Atrax floated just off the bow of the Simurgh. She breathed in, listening to the slow clicks of her vac-suits air filters, and out.

    For a moment, she closed her eyes, hoping somehow to recapture the feeling of sitting back on the Mesa outside Persephone Base on Mars, feeling the icy wind on her skin, the feeling of washing the fine dust that settled on her during her long hours of meditation before a day of patrol through the Martian skies. Life seemed simpler then, patrolling against the occasional bandit insurrection, nothing like the high stakes skirmishes that now dominated her every waking minute. She wasn't sure just how many lives she had ended since she left the gravity well of her desert homeworld, half a dozen warships...ranging from corvettes and gunboats up to frigates. Hundreds of lives, at the very least.

    Even now, she watched as distress signals pulsed, from UNN and MCR alike. Most of them on high-speed trajectories out of the system, never to be recovered. She said a silent prayer for those souls trapped aboard doomed warships, their hopes that they would be rescued by Mars were in vain, but they would believe, right up until the end.

    There was now motion...the UNN had changed formations...instead of stick to their lines...a warship...the William King had changed course and was now plotting a course directly over the station. Something was happening...maybe they were making a power play? No...something was coming...You don't fly a warship into no-mans land without there being a reward, why endanger so many lives otherwise?

    Karen opened the sensor suite on the Atrax and set the corvettes high powered telescopes, RADAR and LADAR to scan. She would stick out like a sore thumb, but they were in an apparent ceasefire, and her corvette rested in the shadow of the MCRN Simurgh, damaged as it was, no one would risk taking on the MCRN fleet just to stop one of their ships performing an active scan or the system...The scan returning thousands, tens of thousands of pings, mostly debris, a few bodies, vac-suits with barely enough heat in them to be considered for rescue...SHe compressed the data and relayed it to the commanders aboard the Simurgh.

    One item was highlighted by the sensor suits algorithms...A vessel was incoming, no transponder, but the sensors had tagged it and were now tracking it...no markings...no identifiers...that's weird...No ships had attempted to contact it, however, it was on a braking burn directly for the station. It was definitely joining the fleets...but which one? She reran the scan, focussing on the drive signature...Definitely not Martian...She thought to herself. Time to poke the hornet's nest and see what happens...She activated the Atrax' targetting computer and locked onto the ship...only for five seconds...The response was instantaneous, the UNN fleet responded like fish to a predator, drives flared...however no target locks...ships moved into defensive formation, forming a potential screen for the incoming vessel...Huh...UNN then...The thought to herslef...compressing the data and relaying it to MCRN Command.
     
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  5. Remi Lièvremont

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    Nae? Who said nae? Shrek the ogre?

    Remi narrowed his good eye. The other one stayed half shut. Maybe she was mocking him or maybe his black eye didn't look so bad yet.

    He took the offered hand and gave her a grateful nod when he was back on his feet. Remi didn't quite feel up to trying a smile.

    "Hurting all over, but got bigger problems, sasa ke?" Up above he could see a bright blue flash. Not another star joining the heavens but an inner vessel joining the scrap heap.

    The doctor swore something at the pair of them. Remi administered a swift kick to the gut and the doctor curled up and went back to sobbing.

    "Dat didn't even make mi feel betta. We need a ship." Fortunately he was just sober enough to notice that the woman was pregnant. That meant no high-g maneuvers. Fuck, he hoped the fleets were letting civilians ships leave slowly.
     
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  6. Aden Peterson

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    [Airlock - Saxon]

    Aden had donned his helmet, along with his colleagues and was standing at the doors that separated the Saxon from the masses inside. Their weapons had been returned to them in safe, working order by the pirate crew, and the four Martians were ready to do the job that had been handed to them. Aden took his long gun, and quickly snapped in the magazine, loading the weapon with lethal ammunition. He looked silently to each of the other members of his crew, before they turned on their tracking lasers and hit the door controls, the rumbling of machinery as the double set of doors opened, and the sea of refugees got their first glimpse at the Saxon... and the armed Martians aiming lasers at them.

    The initial push forward was quickly checked as Aden shot two rounds into the ceiling above them, as the Martians held their ground. Thankfully, the Captain had come through with the information Aden needed.

    Aden tapped his wrist, returning the communication. "Affirmative, Saxon. We'll do our best. I have your word you'll deliver them to safe harbor?" he asked, though at this point and time that was a moot point.

    He stepped forward and began barking commands to the assembled group. Children were to form up, then orderly groups of men and women. Hosta guided the children onto the ship and through the airlock, while McKay and Brathen watched the assembled, weapons at the ready and fingers just outside of trigger guards, waiting to unload if anything happened. Possibly the sight of four armed, masked Martians with military weaponry or the fact that perhaps the Belters know what was to come and the limitations,

    Thankfully, that didn't happen. Of the group assembled, only seven were children. Ages ranged from four to fifteen, but all of them were escorted onboard the ship without much complaining. That left 28 spots left on the Saxon, fourteen women and fourteen men. To make that decision would be incredibly hard. To choose who to save, and who to essentially condemn to death. The only thing that made it better in Aden's eyes is he was not taking up space that could be used for the innocent. He was part of this, the disaster that had caused these people to need to flee. With that being said, and with a quick conference with his fellow Martians, it was decided to let the Belters choose their own to save. The choices made, twenty-eight people were selected and moved inside the airlock, as Aden hit the door mechanism again and watched the doors rumble shut slowly, rumbling as the silence of the station engulfed them.

    Peterson to Saxon. You're full up. Godspeed.

    With that simple phrase, Aden turned away from the door, raised his weapon, and began moving toward where he had been told a Martian outpost was. Hopefully, it was still intact, but this place was swarming with UNN and OPA alike, both of which would probably have no issues introducing an unhealthy amount of shrapnel at dangerous velocities into his body. Keeping his mind open and his gaze wide, he began leading the four naval personnel into what was literally their least favorite place - underground, on foot. The anti of what they were used to. Probable death on a dying station.[/quote]
     
  7. Gwenaël Suess

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    Bridge of the UNN William King

    "Sir, the Saxon has responded."
    reported his Coms Officer.

    "Put it through"

    Suess took a deep sip from his coffee and tapped onto his earpiece.

    As Suess listened to the message he took another sip, already planning out different approaches.
    But before he could think about a proper way to solve this situation his Sensors Officer Ltd. Bryne Davin shouted across the bridge.

    "Sir, the MCRN Atrax has targeted the Package!"

    "Move to intercept" he responded calmly.

    "Target lock disengaged" the Lieutenant responded, sighing.

    Suess nodded.

    "Keep an eye on that ship. I want to be able to intercept anything fired at the package."

    Afterwards he'd need to have a word with high command. If he had to stick his head out for that ship he sure as hell wanted to know what was so god damn important about it.

    ...

    Docks, Dome 6

    After about 16 hours of handing out meals, medicine and blankets they were finally able to rest for a second.

    Around him the men of his squad sat or layed on the ground trying to make the best out of the few minutes of calm.

    "Ok, boys! Enough slacking off. Get back to work." Gunnery Sergeant Idowu shouted.

    Accompanied by curses and grumbles the men of his squad got up from the ground.

    "Ok, we still gotta check the seventh corridor, report says there's been gunshots heard so be ready."

    The four men moved down the small road, with only a row of long plant pots in the middle as cover, wearily checking every door and corner.

    Suddenly four armed men in martian navy uniforms entered their road at an intersection about 100m infront of their squad.

    "Four tangos, 100m front. Take cover."

    He dashed to the right, squeezing off a few
    shots and took cover behind one of the plant pots.
    The martians scattered in every direction trying to take cover.

    @Aden Peterson @Karen Ashoka @Cpt_Buttersworth
     
  8. Shay Lockley

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    Bridge, NPS Saxon
    Shay had been hesitant to follow Rachel Lei's command. He was hoping to dissociate himself from Buttersworth and his crew, having already made the first steps to leave the bridge when the Saxon's captain retreated into his ready room, having not said a single word.

    The man had walked away, as if in despair, locking himself in privacy. Shay had no idea what to do next, but without anyone stopping him from maintaining contact with the William King, he continued with the communications terminal, requesting assistance and providing a brief overview of the status of the refugees on board the Saxon. He ignored Rachel Lei's arrival onto the bridge, and it wasn't only when he heard his name being shouted again, did he proceed to investigate.

    Large globules of dark red levitated across the rather small room. A massive smear of blood stretched across the opposite wall, its splattered edges reaching across the desk. In the middle of the room was Captain Buttersworth's body, still anchored to the floor with his gravity boots, whilst the rest of him was remained buoyant, arms elevated and swaying gently.

    "What the fuck...?"

    It wasn't until the Captain's body turned slightly did he see the man's face - pale, lifeless, unconscious.

    Shay's heart began to race. His eyes darted across the room, wondering if someone - or something - had been in here moments earlier to send the poor old man to his demise. But there was no one else aside from Rachel Lei, who had also just entered, and was now rushing over to Buttersworth as quickly as she could, her arms splashing against several of the floating, thick bubbles of blood.

    Instinctively, Shay did the same, running ahead as fast as his mag boots would allow. The old man was either dead or very close to it, and each passing second diminished the young doctor's confidence that he could do anything about it.

    "What the fuck just happened?!" he demanded of the Saxon's XO, practically screaming in her face, as if the horror before them was her doing.

    @Rachel Lei | @Cpt_Buttersworth
     
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  9. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

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    Violet wrinkled her nose slightly at the mention of we need a ship. Memories came tumbling, unbidden, into her mind as the similarities crashed down over her. Yet again, she'd found herself in the middle of something sinister, violent, and far bigger than her. It was starting to seem as if the universe itself was conspiring against her, to crush her down into a mewling pulp until there was nothing left but a hollow husk. A macabre thought, to be sure, and one that did little to help their current situation.

    Charging off on her own and trying to find a way out of this chaos without help was more likely to end in her death than anything else. The last time she'd been caught in something like this, it had nearly cost her her life; and the only reason she'd survived in the first place was because of Keith and Dieter. This time, she didn't have the little ragtag group to fall back on. No, instead, she had a drunken stranger.

    Though, to be fair, that wasn't too far off from what happened on Tycho.

    Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Violet gestured for the Belter to follow her as she turned to head towards the docks. She didn't have the Albatross any more; but she remembered perfectly well how she could get another ship. If the Belter was saying that they needed a ship, it stood to reason that he didn't have one of his own.

    Trapped in hell, once again. She thought bitterly.

    Gunshots rang out, and Violet instinctively ducked down rushing over to the side of a building for cover while dragging her inadvertent companion along with her. He'd gotten her away from the doctors, and wherever they had planned to take her, the least she could do was try to keep him alive.

    "I dinnae have a ship... so I certainly hope that either you do, or y'ken where to find one." She hissed sharply to the blonde man, glancing over her shoulder at him.

    @Remi Lièvremont
     
  10. Remi Lièvremont

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    He swore under his breath. Because he knew exactly what this meant they were going to have to escape on.

    "Ya," he said as he followed the woman - because he was drunk and had no better ideas where to go now. "Mi know where to get a ship. Take da next left."

    Once he had raced against the best there was. Right now he was planning on finding one of the older generation tugs that still needed a pilot and limping away from Ganymede. They would have to teakettle away on thrusters and then use the old fashioned fusion torch to finish the journey. Couldn't do much more with a pregnant woman anyway.

    Limping away in a rust bucket. Glamorous. Exactly what his life deserved at this point. At least he could pass off the black eye as something more honourable than falling on the corner of a bar.

    "I hear Io has good jobs anyway," he muttered.
     
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  11. Aden Peterson

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    [Docks, Dome 6]

    The Martians, since taking their leave of the Saxon, had been lucky enough insofar as to have not run into UNN elements... yet. The four Martians had been able to get almost halfway to the refuge they were seeking before all that changed. As the Martians were moving, Aden had refreshed in his mind the ROE that he was operating under. He was in a civilian area and had to be wary of that. The rules boiled down to that he could use force to defend himself or his comrades, he was instructed to use as little force as popular, and most importantly if he came into contact with confirmed UN assets, he was only to fire if fired upon. He didn't have to wait long for that.

    A shout and a flurry of gunfire introduced them to a squad of UNN Marines. The Marines, rather than try and demand surrender or avoid confrontation, had instead taken the barbaric path of immediately introducing themselves, using the universal greeting when they didn't like you. Bullets. The glimpse of the men that Aden could see as he dived head-first toward a wall was four well-armed and trained UN Marines, thankfully without their Reaver powered armor. Even so, UN Marines were notoriously hard bastards to kill, with the general expression being the only thing more powerful than a UN Marine was an MCR Marine. There wasn't much thinking going on as the Martians dived for whatever cover they could find.

    Not everyone made it.

    Brathen, on his dive for cover, had been hit. A UN round had punctured the suit he wore, driving through the fatty tissue of the neck and severing the man's windpipe. On the way through, the round had wreaked havoc on his neck, as gore and matter spread everywhere, Brathen stumbling a few steps before collapsing in the corridor, his weapon falling from his hands and clattering to the ground as his helmet cracked on impact. The sound of the crack reverberated loudly, as a sticky red pool began to form in the low-g corridor.

    The rest of the Martians had, however, made their way to cover, squeezing off a very minimal amount of fire, nothing like would be expected from an MMC unit. The fire was erratic, scattered, and panicked. By all accounts, the UN had the upper hand. McKay reached a hand out from cover and grasped onto Brathen, yanking him back behind a corner that he was cowering in, his weapon firing in what he thought was the direction of the UN, but was, in fact, the ceiling five meters in front of him.

    The reaction, and failure to properly respond was perhaps understandable. The four men here were Naval personnel. Not security, not Marines, and not trained for CQC. They had a pilot, a flight technician, a Comms operator, and a weapons technician. None of them were used to on-the-ground fighting... hell, many of them had never seen on-the-ground combat, only being exposed to simulators. Add on a stressful environment, where death could be around every corner, an ample helping of trauma from seeing their ship destroyed and their comrades killed, and top it all off with a sprinkle of the knowledge that the station was dying around them. A perfect ice-cream sundae of death.

    As McKay tried, in vain, to stop the bleeding of the already-gone Brathen, Hosta and Aden tried to get their bearings to return fire effectively. The UN had the advantage, now it was up to them to see what could be done.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    @Gwenaël Suess
     
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  12. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

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    The Belter seemed to know where a ship was, but Violet wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a bad omen. Either way, she didn't have much to lose by going with him. She gave a small nod of her head, moving to follow after him as he led her down the street. Her boots thumping dully across the asphalt, the sound seemed much louder than it should have in the otherwise quiet alley.


    It was strange how empty the space was, how calm it seemed, after the madness of the main street. Most people were so panicked that they weren't thinking about other paths to get to the docks that might have been available. She absently pressed a hand against her belly, frowning a little.


    Leaving Ganymede was a risk, a massive one. What would happen without those daily injections? How much of what she'd been told by the doctors was real? What had been lies? She didn't know what was the right move to make. As much as she hated to admit it, the best decision for herself was to leave the moon. If she got killed in the fighting, the baby would die for sure.


    Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the back of the tall Belter as he loped ahead. His legs were so long that she almost had to jog to keep up with him, being so much shorter.


    “Where are we goin’ then?”


    “Io,” he said quite firmly. “Well, I'm going to go to Io. You're welcome to come.” He managed to keep most of the creole out of his language, instead slurring his words to make himself more difficult to follow.


    She was pregnant. In his mind that meant a good chance the father was around on Ganymede. That thought didn't quite make sense given how Violet was acting and not calling anyone, but he wasn't thinking entirely clearly.


    He turned to face her, having to being a spidery hand up to brush the long strands of blonde hair that fell forwards when he looked down. He looked a little unsure of himself, possibly even embarrassed.


    “Should be some old tugs we can borrow. Won't take much to get off Ganymede..”



    A bitter laugh came burbling out from Violet's throat as Remi explained the tug boat plan. Surely, she must be dreaming? Or was the universe such a cruel place that it was attempting to have her relive Tycho station? She passed a hand through her own auburn looks, shaking her head with a sardonic smirk. If he wanted to steal a ship, she at least had quite a bit of experience in that department.


    “Right. Sounds straightforward, should nae be too difficult.”


    Up ahead, more gunfire broke out. A contingent of Martian Marines had stumbled across the Earthers. The burst of gun shots caused her to flinch.


    “We need to get out of here.” She cursed, ducking against the wall for cover.
     
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  13. Gwenaël Suess

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    Dome 6

    Idowu saw the blood and gore spread everywhere as a round hit one of the MCR guys.
    Their response was disappointing. The men they were fighting didn't seem to be good at gun fights, half their rounds hit the walls ajd ceilings just a few meters infront of them.

    "Are these belters in Martian uniforms or what? I can't believe those duster are so bad at shooting." came Private Meiers voice through the radio, he laughed.

    "Shut your mouth Private, this ain't a game." responded Corporal Hilman.

    He was fed up with the young Private, Idowu could feel that.
    He'd need to talk to them after this mission. They couldn't risk tensions in their own ranks leading to mistakes during combat.

    The Sergeant pulled the trigger as one of the Martians peeked out to fire back at them. He felt the butt of his gun pressing against the shoulder plate of his armor.

    Suddenly something hit his shoulder.
    He was thrown back and stumbled, falling to the ground.
    A round had ricochet off of a nearby wall and hit him.
    Thankfully his new full body armor suit and saved him from getting severely hurt.

    He was the only one in his squad to be equipped with a full combat suit instead of just the usual armored vests. It was made based off of the Martian design and was superior in almost every way.

    He picked himself back up, using the plant pot he had used for cover to stabilize himself.

    He used the HUD of his armor to get a better view of their enemies.
    As another one of them peeked out he could finally get a decent look.
    And he made a shocking realization, the men they were fighting weren't Martian Marines, they were simple naval personnel.
    That explained why they were fighting back so lousy.
    It meant they weren't fighting a superior foe as would've been the case with Marines.
    But it also meant that those people were worth more alive and they would have a reason for being here.

    All these realizations were made within a mere second and UNMC Gunnery Sergeant Idowu made a fatal decision.

    "Meier, Hilman, there's a hydroponics wall on the left. It seems to lead down the whole corridor. We are gonna smoke the corridor and you'll use the maintenance tunnel behind it to flank them. I want them captured alive, do you understand?" he ordered.

    "Copy that, Sir." they both responded.

    They didn't ask why they were ordered to capture their enemies, it wasn't their place to question the decisions of their Squadleader.

    ...

    Bridge of the UNN William King


    The situation onboard the King was calm. The battles were mostly over and no one dared to enter their range. Instead they were having different problems.

    "Give me the com link to the Saxon." ordered Suess.

    His earpiece was suddenly filled with the young man giving him a status update of the situation of the refugee aboard the Saxon.

    At least that meant that they were actually treating those people well and didn't just pick a bunch up for use as humna shields just to dump them later.

    "Mister Locksley, I need you to calm down. We are doing everything we can to help you. Please try to leave the ship on the fastes way possible. Sadly the situation inside the Saxon makes a boarding operation extremely difficult. As soon as you leave the ship you are gonna be picked up by UN personnel and escorted to our nearby office. If you should not be able to escape from the ship I recommend you relay information to us that could potentially help us to rescue you. The UN doesn't leave their citizens behind."

    He tuned down the sound of the earpiece and took a deep sip of his coffee.
    This was all turning into one giant shit show and he had to juggle it without stepping into it.
    He looked at the flight path of the black ops ship and the positioning of MCRN assets.
    They hadn't even told him where exactly it would be landing and if it would be landing at all.
    He could narrow it down to a few facilities but that didn't help much.

    @Aden Peterson @Shay Lockley
     
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  14. Remi Lièvremont

    Messages:
    10
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Nae. Again. He couldn't believe anyone actually said that on Scotland. He'd always assumed those strong British accents were overdone for the shows. The belt was a smelting pot of cultures and people's and the accents and languages all merged into one people. One Beltalowda.


    Some part of his mind was conscious that these thoughts were those of a man who had drunk too much. He ushered himself into cover with the stranger. She'd dragged the mad man off of him at any rate.


    Needed to sober up. He realised, with some delight, that they were crouched beside a coffee bar. It was abandoned and he reached up and grabbed a plastic cup.


    “Pashang!” he swore loudly, spitting scalding hot coffee across the floor. He reached for another half drunk cup and checked before downing that. Straight double espresso. He pulled a face.


    Unfortunately marines from both sides had advanced armour. That meant advanced rounds. A stray one cut through the counter as if it had been made of butter.


    “Fuck it, go for that door!” he shouted, pointing to the opposite side of the corridor. They weren't in the line of sight directly so it seemed safer than staying still.
     
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  15. Aden Peterson

    Messages:
    33
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    [Dome 6]

    The situation for the Martians had gone from bad, to worse, to awful in a short period of time. The MCR Navy group could not defeat this UNMC force, nor did they have any allies who could come to their aid. From what Aden's HUD told him, they were also at a man disadvantage. As Aden recovered a bit from his shock, he peeked once more and delivered a burst of more coordinated gunfire on target. Still not marine-precise, but at least it was in the right direction. As he quickly ducked back behind a wall, he shot a glance over to McKay, who had abandoned checking up on Brathen. McKay shook his head, indicating the man was already gone. There was nothing more to be done.

    As Aden and Hosta took turns squeezing bursts of weapons fire down the corridor, Aden made the decision that they were not going to win this engagement. The only option the three surviving Martians had now was to run like hell - or as it was called in Military parlance, a 'Tactical Withdrawal'. He indicated this to the other two quickly. The plan was pretty simple - the three of them would take turns sending as many rounds as possible down the hallway until they escaped, or died.

    Aden counted down with his fingers as the three prepared to run, on zero Aden appeared and began spraying fire down the corridor, as the group turned, ran... and was confronted with a group of civilians. The group immediately ceased their fire, as they retook cover. They could not put the Civilians in the middle of this battle, as Hosta cursed audibly and the group waited for the impending UNMC retaliatory action. The Martians couldn't draw more fire if it meant putting Civilians in the crosshairs, which effectively crippled their ability to survive. All they could do now is wait for the UN to get close, or the Civilians to leave.

    The group cowered in their spots, Hosta slowly leaking blood from a wound to his leg while McKay broke out what medical supplies he had in his armor. Aden looked back at the group of Civilians wordlessly, hoping they would get the message that this was not the place to be. One could only hope the UNMC would check their targets before turning the unarmed noncombatants into a makeshift sieve.


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    @Gwenaël Suess @Violet
     
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  16. Gwenaël Suess

    Messages:
    15
    Dome 6

    This simple patrol task had turned into a firefight and to top it off there were now a group of civilians standing in the combat zone.

    Meier almost mowed them all down but made the realization that those were normal people not Martians. The man really was a rambo. Always first in and always a finger on the trigger.
    He sincerely hoped he wouldn't execute the Martians instead of capturing them.

    "Deploying smoke screen now" shouted the Corporal into his radio.

    A smoke grenade flew across the corridor, drawing a trail of white smoke behind itself. It landed halfway between the Martians and them.
    It would only last a few seconds, maybe a minute before the airrecyclters would've cleaned it all away but that was enough.

    Hilman and Meier left their cover as soon as the smoke had fromed a decent screen. They rushed towards the hydroponics wall and entered the maintenance corridor behind it.

    Hilman looked around as they entered the maintenance corridor behind the wall of plants.

    He felt awfully removed as if everything else wasn't happening right now. There was an urge to look around and watch as the system supplied the plants with nutrients.

    After a close look he realized that someone must've tinkered around with it

    Multiple plants were ripped out or looking like they hadn't gotten enough nutrients.
    Some of the pipes had been severed and one of the pumps made an irregular sound.

    The noise of his radio sucked Corporal Hilman back into reality.

    "Be careful when you leave the tunnel. Those civillians don't need to end upin a recycler." said Idowus voice.

    Meier was already checking down the corridor to see if the martians had had the same idea as them.

    The Corporal raised his rifle and took the lead.

    @Aden Peterson @Violet @Remi Lièvremont
     
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  17. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

    Messages:
    259
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    She stared at Remi incredulously as he downed a cup of coffee in the middle of a war zone. Was he insane? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, rushing off with a stranger in hopes for the best. But, as far as she was concerned, there wasn't much else that she could do. Ganymede was still fairly unknown to her, and she needed to find a ship somehow. If this belter was trying to get to Io, she would at least be able to seek out some contacts there that could help her.

    One of the Martians was looking towards them. She met his gaze, chewing at the inside of her cheek.

    The man seemed young. He had no business being involved in a pointless gun fight.

    None of them did.

    What were they even fighting about? This was supposed to be neutral territory. Earth and Mars were supposed to be this beacon of civility and resigned professionalism. Yet, here they were butchering each other and innocents over... what exactly? Humans really hadn't come all that far, it would seem. Wooden clubs had just been replaced with guns and bullets.

    It didn't escape her that the shooting had died down once the groups realized that her and the Belter were here. The Earthers tossed a smoke grenade and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

    They'd been the group that'd nearly killed her on Ceres. Not the specific group, obviously. But it had been a terran that shot her. For a brief moment, she wondered if the man that pulled the trigger even realized what he'd done. Or if he even cared. Did these soldiers care?

    She held his gaze for a moment longer, until the young soldier looked away. If they stayed hunkered down in such an exposed location, Violet doubted that the martians would last much longer.

    The terrans were no doubt up to something. Why else would they have tossed a smoke grenade instead of mowing everyone down? Violet had zero trust, or faith, in their ability to control their trigger fingers. Inyas had been putting their boots on the necks of belters and the little guy for as long as the Belt had existed. It didn't matter that she'd been born on that planet, to them she was still just another spacer that wasn't worth checking their aim. Which meant that sticking it to the earthers would at least make her feel a little bit better.

    She waved an arm to the martians, gesturing to the door closer to her and her companion. It meant that she'd be making herself essentially a human shield if they acted on it, but it was something.

    A way out.

    @Remi Lièvremont | @Aden Peterson | @Gwenaël Suess
     
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  18. Aden Peterson

    Messages:
    33
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    [Dome 6]

    As the UNMC had pushed forward, and the MCRN group had attempted a retreat, they had found themselves stymied by a group of Civilians. The default ROE he had been operating under, given the lack of communication with command, was to avoid civilian casualties at all costs. Given the rather gung-ho attitude the blues had expressed, it was rather remarkable they hadn't blasted the corridor to shreds with high-explosives thus far.

    Aden had found himself distracted from the battle by one of the civvies who they had come across. His own fear and nervousness was evident, even gazing in through the limited opening that his helmet provided. The newer helmet design provided a better field of view into the battlefield, and a slightly better HUD capacity at the tradeoff of allowing their faces to be seen and less armor. Then again, if any of them took a slug round to the head, it was over no matter which variant was used. Aden waved for the civvies to stay down, trying to find an exit for them.

    Hosta's voice rang out as the UNMC hurled the smoke. They didn't know what it was, and had to of course assume the worst. "Grenade!" he shouted, ducking and curling up behind his meager cover as Aden and McKay did the same. Moments later, when it became apparent it had only been a smoke charge, the three came out of their curled pose, and Hosta began, to the suprise of the other two, to laugh. Systemic shock, combined with the high-stakes environment in which they found themselves was just too much and the man broke down into hysterics, before slowly recovering himself. The men were near the breaking point, and it showed as they resigned themselves to prepare to fire again.

    The smoke was thick, thick enough that Aden could not see down the hallway. McKay had taken up a prone firing position. This was the platform most likely to allow the man to successfully engage the target downrange. Hosta was kneeling, weapon resting on a trashcan that was just about the right level for him, tracking lasers searching for a target but not firing. Both men were in positions it would be hard to stand and run from, or even turn from an unexpected angle. Any flanking action would be likely to catch them unprepared, but at least they'd not get shot in the back, running like cowards past the innocents.

    It was remarkable how much a noncombatant could change the situation. Before they had gotten in the way, Aden, Hosta, and McKay would have gladly run and run and run until they either escaped or had nowhere else to go, not caring about anything around them. That all changed the moment their running might put someone else in danger, someone who had not asked the MCR and the UN to come knocking on their door, smashing ships in orbit, and shooting up their streets below. Nobody had invited them to kill, ruin, and destroy the area around them, and yet here they were.

    The area the Martians found themselves in had three visible routes. One led farther down the corridor, past the Belters and into the maze of Ganymede. The second was through the door that one of the new arrivals was indicating. Both those options put significant risk of injury or death on the belters, with the second option almost a certainty if anyone fired on either side. The third, and least desirable exit, would be the one that the Martians had just scurried down, which the UNMC had just smoked off as they made their move. None of the exits were viable.

    Aden shook his head at the woman waving to them. as he instead indicated with his hand that they should take the exit. "Go, get yourselves to safety. We'll cover you," He said, checking his weapon with a glance. Hopefully they wouldn't be stupid enough to stay in the crossfire. "This isn't your fight."

    All he could do now would be wait - see if the Belters had the brains to get away safely, wait and see if the UNMC would push forward and kill them, or if a different option presented itself, if either side had anything up its sleeve.

    Wait, and see.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    @Gwenaël Suess @Violet
     
  19. Gwenaël Suess

    Messages:
    15
    Dome 6

    "There should be a door that leads to another plant wall right behind the Martians" whispered Meier.

    Hilman wondered why his companion was whispering even though they were in a maintenance corridor with no one else in it. But he had to admit that thought of speaking loudly in these tight tunnel woth enemies just a few meters away made him appreciate the whispering.

    They reached the door and Meier automatically fell back into military routine. He positioned himself vertically to the door taking a position that would allow him to see into the hydroponics area behind it while being mostly covered.

    Hilman stood right besides the door leaning against the cold stone wall and readied himself for breaching.

    He held up three fingers and began to count down.

    As his hand closed to a fist he used a mule kick to open the door.
    Following the Private he checked the small hydroponics area that lay behind them.

    This time he didn't have the consuming feel of tension and mystery.
    Instead of stopping to take a look at the small plants and systems that supplied them he headed straight to the small door inside the wall.

    "Checkpoint reached, executing maneuver 27" he reported to the Gunney Sergeant.

    Hilman took up position while Meier carefully pressed down the handle to open the door.

    The only thing he could see was a red graffiti on the opposite wall.

    "Da cascade is takyn us"

    "Catchy slogan" muttered Meier as they both entered the small side corridor.

    Hilman gritted his teeth and supressed a pissed comment, they couldn't argue now, it would endanger the mission and that was unacceptable.

    He flicked on his HUD and requested position data from Idowu.

    As the data was relayed from the squadleaders suit multiple red silhouettes plopped into existence on his helmets face plate.

    He sighed. They had basically locked themselves and left their flank to bw totally exposed with no chance of real response should someone attack them from there.

    The Corporal waved to his partner and they moved out of the side corridor slowly approaching the Martians from behind with raised guns.

    At the same time Idowu and Andrews pushed forward a second time in a move to demnad total attention.

    @Aden Peterson @Violet
     
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  20. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

    Messages:
    259
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    Bio
    For her entire life, Violet experienced first hand the avarice of Earth and the inhabitants that lived there whilst utterly oblivious to the hardships outside of their own gravity well. Was it just an innate flaw in them? To take and take and take with no concern or thought given to those affected? It didn't matter that she'd been born on the planet, she had been raised in the Belt. She couldn't even remember what the planet looked like. Her accent and parents may have been from Earth, but every other part of her may as well have been Belter.

    She wasn't sure if it was purely coincidence, but Terrans and their greed had been the sole source of strife in her miserable life.

    And here she was, caught yet again in their hamfisted need to control every little aspect of the system.

    She'd had enough.

    Slowly, the woman pushed herself onto her feet as she watched the door open across the corridor. They had flanked the unaware martians, but there was still time for her to intervene.

    It was stupid. She knew that, but she didn't particularly care anymore.

    Unarmed and without any bodily protection, Violet rushed into the middle of the street with her arms outstretched. She came to stop in between the squad of Martians and the pair of Earthers, glaring up at the armored terrans.

    Why she felt compelled to involve herself, she couldn't put into words; likely because there was no logical explanation. All she knew was that a chance for her to stand up against the madness and indifference of Earth had presented itself. Throughout her life, she'd been held captive to the whims of a shimmering blip in the sky; but here was an opportunity to defy them. The parents that sold her. The soldiers that shot her for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. The corporations that had owned her. The ones tearing the system apart.

    I'm probably about to get shot ... but at least I can say I did something. She thought dully, taking a deep breath to try to steel her nerves.

    The inners had done unimaginable damage to the Belt. More fighting was just going to make this worse. Why couldn't they see that? Didn't they care about all the innocent people they were killing?

    Her eyes narrowed slightly at the marine. "Enough." She growled. "You people have done enough."
     

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