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Post by Macbeth Stewart on Oct 19, 2012 17:35:38 GMT -5
Eighth Bell of the Last Dog Watch (2000 hours)
The mess was mostly empty except for the few cooks cleaning and preparing for the next watches meal. Fortunately rather than having to wait another half-hour Mac managed to convince the cooks to let him eat now, at the price of him having to wash his own plate. A small price if the noises coming from Mac’s stomach were anything to go by. He piled his plate high with salad and grabbed some of the thick pea-and-ham soup – making sure to get the ham hock that was floating in there; Mac had inherited his father’s habit of chewing on bones and sucking the marrow.
Sitting down at one of the large tables Mac set to the task of filling his stomach. His mind wandered to and fro as he alternated between soup and salad. It flitted back to his sisters, wondering how they were and whether their children were well, before the rivulets of his mind carried it further on he wondered if he would be home for mum and dad’s anniversary, at the very least he wanted to make sure they got a letter on the day from him.
Mac was at heart a family man, his fondest memories were dinners that were spent in that odd emotional state that floated between fighting and laughing with family. He remembered the fight when he had been resolved to get a tattoo when he was 15, God how his mother had fumed and dad just smouldered silently in the corner – he had expected his sisters’ help but instead they had, all of them, smartly slapped him. A smile twitched around the corners of his mouth as he remembered this moment and more. That moment when mum walked in on him and … at that memory Mac openly burst out in laughter.
Cheeks sore from the mirth, he stood and wandered over to the drink stand and poured a tall cup of water. It managed to stop the laughter and soothed his throat somewhat, with his characteristic easy and self-confident strides he walked back to his table. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket as he did, and thrusting his hand back into the pocket found a pencil. Tapping the pencil against the table he pondered over the fire team’s readiness, and interrupted the tattoo the pencil sounded out with scribbled thoughts on the matter. All the while his left hand picked at the salad, he would look up to take a mouthful and then return to the task. Though he did not look engrossed in it, merely someone attempting to distract and amuse themselves while they ate alone.
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Post by Stephanie Amberson on Oct 19, 2012 18:00:29 GMT -5
Then there was Amberson who was being led by the ear. She didn't seem pleased as the Lt. Col of the Dauntless was bickering at her. For anyone that KNEW Elizabeth knew she didn't do much until pushed. "Amberson if you so much as EVER step foot on the bridge again like that" the officer spewed. Stephanie snorted. "Never heard of an accident have you?" There was spitfire in the vocals of the Sergeant. The enlistee managed to get free of the officer and Lizzie let her go. "Hobbar will hear about this"
[/b] Liz snapped. Stephanie ignored her and rolled her eyes as she heard the tapping of a pencil. She was already mad, but that just made it worse. She was about to turn around and say something but if she did then that Lt. Col was going to be in her hair again. She already had enough trouble she didn't need anymore of it. There was a slight growl under her tongue as she turned to see if the other woman was still there. Liz was she just was keeping silent. Waiting to see what Stephanie's next move would be. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 19, 2012 18:48:34 GMT -5
After his vacation, which turned out to be not as relaxing as he had hoped it would, John decided to get some chow. He walked to the counter and since there was no line went straight for the food section. He was curious to see what they'd have today. Spaghetti for a change. He hadn't suspected this, but it was very welcome as opposed to the crap they usually served. He loaded up his plate, and then went for one of the many tables where he pulled a red bull from his bag. It was basically the only thing he'd drink on the Dauntless Fury, besides water. In that makeshift hospital, he only had water, which he didn't like lately. Water only tastes good if it's fresh and cold, otherwise he didn't want it. Back home he'd have a beer during dinner, but since he was on a military ship, he'd have to do with his private stock of energy. John put everything on the table and then sat down for himself. Even though he was on painkillers, his legs still hurt when sitting down or standing up. It was the result of getting pierced by a pin.
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Post by Michael Hobbar on Oct 19, 2012 18:58:24 GMT -5
Making his way to the mess hall, Hobbar saw that there were not as many people there this time. Well then again the day was pretty much over, so needless to say no one was really there. Getting in line he saw that today's supper was some sort of Alfredo chicken with creamy sauce. Grabbing a lot of that, he also got some peas that were still hot. He also saw that they had jello with some sort of fruit in it he grabbed that. Also grabbing five garlic rolls he then went over to the salad bar. After that, he grabbed himself three glasses if sweet tea and looked to find himself a seat.
However he also saw that Amberson was once again in trouble with another officer, it looked like a flight officer was upset with her this time. This had been one hell of a day! He sighed and started to walk over towards them, he also wondered what she did this time to get in trouble. Besides when he left her she was still in the infirmary, wasn't she supposed to be in her bed under going some sort of evaluation? Walking over towards both of them, he asked ever so calmly, "So what has occurred now?"
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Post by Macbeth Stewart on Oct 20, 2012 6:29:36 GMT -5
Mac heard the approaching tempest and looked over his shoulder to where the two people stood, a sergeant and lieutenant colonel locked in an argument which seemed only moments away from devolving into fisticuffs. Macbeth had not expected such a lax display of discipline amongst the men and women of the 32nd; he had thought that the best of the best would reflect the very ideal of U.C.H.D. discipline. Maybe his time as Military Police had made him more up tight, but he struggled to think that even the laziest C.O. would allow a sergeant to talk back to a lieutenant colonel!
What made things worse was how close he was to all this, now normally he would step in and settle the matter but he was new in the 32nd and both women outranked him and he had no need to go making enemies yet. He looked around for an escape, the doorway blocked unfortunately by the two women in question. He saw his C.O. get up and make for the pair, Mac thought about backing him up as it seemed the two might tear strips off him but decided the fellow had it in hand.
The only other person in the mess at the time was a flight officer, a captain from the bar on his collar, who was chowing down on some spaghetti between chugs of Red Bull. Picking up his plate and cup Mac made his way over to the fellow’s table,
“May I join you, sir?”
Then with a nod over his shoulder added,
“I would like to be as far from that as possible.”
He smiled and his eyebrows wriggled in mirth. Placing down his plate and then cup, he swung his tall frame over the bench seat and after a quick drink introduced himself with hand extended across the table for a firm shake,
“Corporal Stewart, sir.”
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Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2012 6:51:06 GMT -5
John was eating from his dinner when a corporal approached his table. He looked up, and began to talk.
"First of all, drop the sir. And sure, go ahead." He looked to the incident, and then shook hands with corporal stewart. "Lieutenant Aldman, pleasure to meet you. I can imagine getting as far away as possible. She's fighting my CO, and my CO always wins. Hell, I don't know how she did it, but she got me out that makeshift hospital planet side. Forgive me if I talk too much man, it's a distraction I need because otherwise I'm gonna think of certain bad things that have happened to me recently. Anyway, you don't have this from me, but did you know you can use the simulator for other things than just combat training? I just got back from a vacation to Hawaii in the year two thousand and two. Though it was not really as relaxing as I had hoped it to be."
John ate some more of his spaghetti, and then took a sip from his drink. It had lost it's coolness by now, and he'd have to put the remaining cans in the fridge tonight if he wanted to have them cold tomorrow. Then he remembered that he had to check in with the doctors again, and after that with the psychologist. He hated both of them. But he had time left to finish his dinner first.
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Post by Elizabeth 'Firefly' Kirkwood on Oct 20, 2012 7:21:04 GMT -5
Liz looked up and pointed at the door. "Sergeant Amberson go back where you belong"
[/b] she stated firmly. That was about the time that Hobbar came up and asked what was going on this time. "Your Sergeant was found on the bridge"[/b] she stated. Stephanie took a step back from the officers, she wasn't about to throw her two cents into this one. Liz looked very displeased. "I will let you handle this mess since you are her CO"[/b] she informed the Lieutenant. It took the Lieutenant Colonel quite a bit of annoyance to where she got to the point she was now, but she took a breathe and she went over to get something to eat. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head for a moment. Amberson belonged back in the Cabin. Liz for the time being was ignoring the others in line, while Amberson seemed to be avoiding anyone's eye contact probably only because they were officers. The flight commander didn't want to think anymore on it right now, she wanted to get something to eat. It was late already and she needed to be in bed. Unlike the Drop Corp she actually had work to do in the morning. If Hobbar could not keep his people under control then the Lt. Col was not going to be pleased. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Michael Hobbar on Oct 20, 2012 13:21:28 GMT -5
Hobbar sighed. "Sergeant Amberson. I want you to go back to the infirmary and get that 24 hour observation over with. I do not want to hear any more stories about you leaving the infirmary at all. You’re going to get better but for that to happen you need to go to the infirmary now and report to the room that they assigned you. You'll do what they tell you to do. I'll come by tomorrow to see how you’re doing but until then I do not want to hear any more of this 'Amberson is running around the Troop Transport'. Dismissed Sergeant." he told her in a calm voice. Hobbar wasn't just her aquatiance but also her superior and he'd grown tired of hearing things from other people about how she acted.
He knew that she was probably exhausted and had a very bad concussion but he was trying to do everything he could to keep her disturbances to others around the ship to a minimum. He turned sharply and walked away, she knew how to follow orders. As he did he saw that there was the pilot who crashed the sparrow back when they were storming the mountain range. Walking towards them he looked up at the TV’s and saw that all three of them were still showing the Solarian race, which would be over in four days. The commentator didn’t have that much to say as other then who was in the lead.
He decided it might be better to eat with him since most of the platoon was still in the infirmary. And Silva was most likely in his bunk or the infirmary. Sitting down he started to cut his pasta into smaller bite sizes. He then also cut his chicken up and listened to them while he continued to cut.
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Post by Macbeth Stewart on Oct 21, 2012 20:48:00 GMT -5
“As you wish…Lieutenant.”
Macbeth smiled when the flight officer insisted he drop the “sir”, Mac was always a bit of stickler but he was happy to oblige. Having a deep draught of his water he studied the man opposite him a moment over the cup’s brim: black hair was trimmed neatly and kept out of the blue eyes which regarded the world calmly but gently; he was muscled, though not as much as an infantryman – fly-boys never were, Mac thought with an impish twitch at the corner of his lips.
Macbeth did not interrupt as the fellow spoke on and listened between mouthfuls of salad – the lettuce was surprisingly crisp today, not at all watery, Mac thought to himself. When Aldman mentioned his C.O. Mac’s turned in his seat quietly and let his eyes rest on her a moment. A real firebrand was she now, Mac asked in silent rhetorical to himself. Women often had to be in the macho society of the Armed Services, hell he had enough problems himself!
“Hospital planet side? Would’ve thought our medical facilities here aboard ship as good as any down there, why would they want to keep you down there?”
He asked the question half of himself really, though the Dauntless was a modern troop transport not some re-purposed cruiser and so had all the concomitant medical facilities – equal to any colony. When Aldman apologised for talking too much and explained why, Mac shrugged his powerful shoulders and with the gentle look of a bull – he had often been compared to the male bovine by former partners, both in temperament and other aspects.
“Not a problem Lieutenant, I tend to be the quiet sort so feel free to talk enough for the both of us.”
He laughed genuinely and speared a slice of tomato and cucumber to his fork, quickly placing his conquest in his mouth. When Aldman mentioned using the simulator for “other things” Mac couldn’t help but stiffen, two years Military Police certainly had there side-effects, the least of which was a certain respect for the rules. But he relaxed quickly, after all he wasn’t Military Police anymore he thought and Aldman was just being friendly.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
His C.O. took a seat next to Aldman but didn’t acknowledge either of them. It seemed the Lieutenant just wanted the physical company without the strings of having to engage in conversation. As always Macbeth was never the sort to begin something, he reacted, and so let the Lieutenant eat in peace. He had only met the man once before after all, when he had first been transferred to the 32nd.
Not wanting to seem rude Mac enquired of Aldman,
“How long have you been with the…” Mac cocked his head to see Aldman’s squadron patch, “…HMM-22, lieutenant?”
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Post by Elizabeth 'Firefly' Kirkwood on Oct 23, 2012 13:16:51 GMT -5
Lizzie quickly found her seat and listened to the others talking. Lizzie was not the type to just butt into conversation and she too was a quiet person unless someone started a conversation with her. Shifting her eyes towards John the woman got a look in her eyes. One that suggested he needed to be more cautious of himself if he wanted to be back on duty anytime soon. The Lt. Col shook her head and went back to eating. It wasn't like her to speak up to anyone. She was just one of the more reserved, especially for her rank.
Lizzie was exhausted and her shift had finally gotten over a bit ago, Amberson had been too much of a handful for her and had tested her nerves. Pulling her arms under her head she rested her head on the edge of the table yawning. Realizing she was falling asleep she lifted her head. Typical Elizabeth, no she never sat still. Watching her move around, one quickly learned she didn't stay in one position long and she was always moving, even if it was her foot. She didn't care if annoyed people, well she did but she never apologized for it. She finished her food and then left. Liz didn't feel like conversation with the guys after all that had just happened.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2012 14:15:52 GMT -5
"I have been with them since halfway trough the mission, and now I'm about to lead them. With a new rank comes new responsibilities. I don't know half of them yet, so I guess I have time to go and meet them now that I'm off duty, am revoked of my flight status, and am physically unfit since the crash." He looked up when his CO joined the group that was actually getting larger. "ma'am, thank you for getting me out of that bloody bed, but I was wondering how you managed to get them to send me up here, I mean, say for yourself, I was clearly not fit to be moved. Hell, I was only walking because of my stubbornness!"
He took a bite from his spaghetti, and finished his red bull, before taking another one out of his bag. He had a daily appointment with the doctor after this, and then he needed to go to the psych doctor to get mentally cleared. Tomorrow he'd make as much flight hours in the simulator as he possibly can, so that he can in order to show that he was able to fly again. He needed a co-pilot for when he was allowed to again, so he also needed to ask the colonel tomorrow, as he didn't want to bother her with it now.
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Post by Jorge Silva on Oct 28, 2012 11:34:12 GMT -5
It was now eleven days since the platoon had returned from their last mission and Silva had decided that afternoon he'd get something to eat again. He'd already eaten around 1300 hours and it was now 1500 hours. Talk about being very hungry. Going to the mess hall he saw that it was very crowded with many soldiers, troopers and sailors sitting amongst themselves talking and eating
After going through the food line he settled on getting five bowls of soup and got himself three large cups of coffee. He started to walk to the tables which were full of people when he spotted Hobbar eating his food and reading something on his personal reader. As he walked something he heard on the tv made him look up, the television was showing intense fighting in some sort of urban environment between the army and the ARM troops. A tank exploded on television a large fireball followed as ARM troops rushed past the tank.
He sat down across from Hobbar who looked up with a face of disgust. "Uh oh don't tell me that we're surrendering to the ARM." he said. Hobbar shook his head. "No, we're not gonna surrender. Unless speaker Naomi decides to surrender then I don't see that happening." he said referring to the unofficial head of the government. "No I'm just going over this latest Intel report. Silva. Next week we're going to help the Army take a town." he said. "So? What's so hard about that, we've fought them before." Silva said as he started to drink his coffee. "They've been trying to take this town because it has a bridge over a canyon. And the Army has been trying to do this since last week. We're going into a shit storm. The only good news is that the anti aircraft fire is not bad. Bad news is that the enemy are dug in very tight."
Jorge sighed. "Yeah well we will deal with it when the time comes. How's your new patient? Any breakthrough yet." he asked Hobbar. "Little progress Jorge, she's really bottled up and probably won't be with us next week. It's like trying to pull out teeth, she's very quiet. The good news I guess is that I feel more comfortable around her. Other then that..." he said and put up his hands. "So how about you? Your not using your cane anymore it seems like." he asked Silva.
"Oh I can walk it just hurts like a bitch. Doctor gave me pain meds and said in three days I'll be better for combat. Unless something really bad happens. Jesus, so how did you get the info on the next mission?" he asked him. "Silva I'm a lieutenant, I get better info then you get. Captain called all of the lieutenants together early this morning and told all of us. The official briefing will happen later today though. We'll be in the ready room in a few hours to make the official announcement." he told him. "Ok. Hey are you gonna finish that?" he asked the lieutenant. "Here, take it." Hobbar gave him some chicken.
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Post by Wei Zhour on Jun 20, 2013 22:30:31 GMT -5
Wei was extremely hungry. Then again...when wasn't he hungry? The mess hall was not that crowded and the line was very short. Grabbing a tray, he started to move up the line. Picking out only a few things that were offered: Cream corn soup, some sort of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, plus a water he looked for a place to sit. Sighing as he saw that most of them had someone at the table, he started to walk between the endless rows. The three enormous holographic televisions were at full volume and he looked up to see what they were tuned to. One was ISN, that had a report on the local election at Rohan. The other television had a show, it looked like a hospital show. And the final television was on a music channel. The music was quite loud
But he did have to admit...it was good music. A trio of squids got up from one of the tables and he finally had a chance to sit down! Sitting down he began to eat, and watched one of the televisions. As he ate his meal, he wondered where his mother was. Last he heard, the Hancock was in the Sisyphus system picking up some SDC troopers to help assault a local pirate base in some outer colonial system he couldn't remember the name of it. Hopefully his mother's deployment wouldn't last that long. The last mission had been extremely tough and he knew it. If the ARM infantry started to advance towards the building he was in....he wouldn't be here. Yes the mines would of helped enormously but they were only a platoon. It had gotten very dicey in the last mission especially when one of his comrades had gotten shot! That was all he'd heard. Wei didn't know if he had been wounded badly the lieutenant wasn't telling them anything. Maybe it'd be best if the platoon didn't know, then again it'd only been six hours since they had returned from the mission. He'd only gotten a few hours sleep before coming here to eat. He watched the television as he ate.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Jul 10, 2013 13:40:24 GMT -5
Doing his very best not to get himself turned around in the colossal ship, Berlioz made his way to the Mess Hall. There were only a few people here, the general lack of personnel he had encountered was actually beginning to concern him unless they were in parts of the ship he wasn't aware of. With no queue to speak of he walked up to the counter, collecting a tray on the way and selected a portion of soup and a bottle of water. All liquids sure but he didn't want to go and potentially work out on a heavy meal, he'd seen others make that mistake and wasn't really up for dealing with crippling stomach cramps.
Berlioz tried to keep some distance between the few people that were also eating and or watching the large monitor on the wall blaring out news reports. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to him which was just fine, if anything it was better as he could enjoy his meal in peace. As much as he could hold a conversation over food he'd rather not unless absolutely necessary, it just wasn't nice in all fairness. One thing that didn't surprise him though, the food was just as he remembered.
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Post by Wei Zhour on Jul 10, 2013 22:18:58 GMT -5
Wei took the last sip of his drink and sighed. After eating for an hour straight he couldn't eat another bite. He had four trays with multiple plates around him. Slowly he gathered all the trays and the plates and multiple cups. Carrying them all at once he noticed that when he got up how packed it was. Lots of people mainly soldiers had returned from the planet. He didn't understand why they just didn't build bases on the planet to use, or maybe there weren't enough materials to make multiple bases. Whatever the case it was now crowded and he could barely move. The three televisions were still playing with their audio now being extremely loud he could barely hear himself think. Who the hell turns up televisions that loud? It wasn't so loud that you couldn't talk to the next person next to you but it was hard for him to think.
Throwing his empty trays, cups, utensils and bowls he pondered what to do next. Being here was becoming too noisy and he didn't feel like working out. Maybe some people were back from the other parts of the ship and had returned to the barracks. He also needed to check his personal e mail since it'd been a month the last time he checked it. He always forgot to check it. As Zhour walked out he thought about the campaign. When would they finally take this god forsaken rock from the ARM? Hopefully soon.....little did Wei know but that wouldn't be for a long while......
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