Slater
Lance Corporal
Wants a SHIV as a pet
Posts: 79
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Post by Slater on Oct 27, 2014 20:24:01 GMT -5
Room 232... Room 232. Slater wandered the halls of the barracks looking for a specific room.
"Man Onn has clutch timing, I'll need to buy him a drink some time for sure." Slaters heart was racing, first the news about bravo and now this. This day couldn't be going any better. 229, 230, 231... Stopping Slater braced himself for what was about to happen. Knock Knock, Knock. "come on in."
Opening the door Slater stepped inside. In the room sat Talia and her roommate Aran. for a brief moment all there was was silence. Damn here roommates here, i wasn't prepared for that "Hey so have you guys talked with Onn yet?" Shit not off to a smooth start
"Yeah he came by and talked too us" Hesitation was in Talias voice. "Awesome, well i just came to introduce my self." Pause for dramatic effect "I'm Slater Zale, We should all have a drink some time and get better acquainted" Nailed it!
"Sure we would love to" Aran Answered Sarcastically. "Sweet, see you around." Slater answered and left their room. well, It could have been worse
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Post by randomkeith on Oct 28, 2014 0:02:47 GMT -5
(OOC: This conversation was written by mrportlyslim and myself using the personnel messaging boards)
Jeff had found what he was looking for. He could have asked for directions but the odd looks that people have been giving him discouraged him from doing so. But he had found it. A door. And just above the door a name. Keith Thurston. Jeff stared at the name for a minute before adjusting his crutch to knock on the door.
*knock knock knock*
"Come in" Keith said.
The door opened, standing there stood Jeff.
"Oh great, this was going to be fun." Keith thought.
"Jeff, how are you??" He asked politely.
"Fine, I think." Replied Jeff "Can I come in??" He asked.
"Certainly" Replied Keith and gestured towards Slaters empty bed. "Take a seat."
Jeff, sat down and began to speak.
"I, uh, brought a cookie for you. It's chocolate chip. Mother let me have some for doing a good job." Jeff looks around and scratches his head and leans on his crutch. "Do you want it?"
"Sure, why not." Keith replied, taking the cookie. "But I'll eat it later, I'm rather full at the moment." Keith said, accepting the cookie, and placing it on the nightstand. Making a mental note to dispose of the cookie in the biohazard bins located outside the science lab. There was no way on earth he was going to eat one of Dr Vahland's cookies.
"How's Mother treating you?" He asked. "Oh God, now I'm calling her Mother as well." he thought.
Jeff gets very excited. He reaches out and grabs Keith's arm. "Oh, mother said that I would have to go back to training very hard after I leave the inf" Jeff stumbles over the word for a moment, "the sick room. But if I do good and try really hard I can start training with a rocket launcher!"
Jeff beams at Keith.
Keith was speechless. "I'm sorry, did you say rocket launcher??" he asked.
"Yes, because Mother knows I'll try very hard to use it as sparingly as possible, so as not to damage any of the bad guys bodies, so she can play with as many of them as possible."
"Oh" replied Keith.
Jeff sat there smiling at him. Keith could only stare back feeling a mixture of both sympathy and terror.
Jeff reaches into a pocket and pulls out another cookie. "Can you give this one to Talia for me?"
"Sure." Keith said and placed it next to the other one on the nightstand. "Well at least that's one area, I don't have to worry about him in." He thought.
Keith looked at his digital alarm clock. (The only thing the Colonel had packed for him apart from his clothes and the fake vomit.)
"Well it's time to hit the gym." He said and stood up.
Jeff looked up at him sadly. "Mother says I can't do any exercise until I'm off these crutches." "Uh-hu." Keith replied, rather relieved. Standing up he helped Jeff to his feet and ushered him towards the door.
"Don't forget those cookies." Jeff pleaded. "Don't worry, I won’t." Keith replied, as he headed off towards the gym.
"A work out followed by a drink." He thought. "Actually more like a work out followed by several drinks. That's what I need, I wonder where Edd is?"
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Slater
Lance Corporal
Wants a SHIV as a pet
Posts: 79
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Post by Slater on Oct 28, 2014 11:00:23 GMT -5
in collaboration with randomkeith and mrportlyslim === "Hey Keith left me a cookie, What a nice guy." Slater eats the chocolate chip cookie that was left on his bed.
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Post by venomousthoughts on Oct 28, 2014 11:12:24 GMT -5
2015MAR02 0300 Hrs Operation Banished Grave Debrief AAR - SPEC Vaughn, Thomas
No one had told me a damn thing upon arrival at XCOM HQ. I was ushered off the Skyranger and led to a sterile looking hallway by a squat, barrel-chested man who identified himself as chief of base security.
"Find your name, that's your room." He said, and left before I could even respond.
I wandered down the corridor until I saw a strip of masking tape with "Vaughn" written on it that had been hastily slapped over where a nameplate should be. I swiped the keycard I had been given and the electronic lock sharply snapped open. Inside I found a sparsely furnished space with a couch and an armchair. A pair of doors at the back of the room led to bedrooms. I took the one on the left, dumped my bag, and put on one of the uniforms I found hanging in the closet. To my surprise, it fit like a glove. Damn, these guys already knew my size?
There was a loudspeaker above my head, and it crackled to life as I was looking at it. A voice barked, "Elric, Vaughn, Thurston, Ovdat, Daratis, Reihle, report to the ready room for briefing and immediate deployment." I glanced at the clock as the message repeated itself, then dashed out of the room. I found the ready room by following the signs posted in a whole bunch of languages at each hallway junction. Hells bells, some of them took up space on the wall from floor to ceiling. The officer present waited for the rest of the squad to arrive and proceeded to begin the briefing. He told us a bogey had been downed in Germany, and we were to investigate the crash site. He handed out folders entitled Operation Banished Grave, and I flicked mine open. I glanced at the photo that was on the topmost page. A short, skinny figure with grayish skin, an enormous head, and huge black eyes stared back at me from the picture. I cleared my throat and said loudly, "You have got to be shitting me."
15 minutes later I was outfitted in shiny red tac-armor, handed an AP grenade and an assault rifle fitted with a laser sight, and strapped into a Skyranger, on the way to the drop site. The craft land smoothly, and the rest of my squad and I poured out into an open field. The officer wasn't, in fact, shitting me, and we found several of the gray-skinned freaks camped out around a real freaking flying saucer. Their weapons fired bolts of green energy, and the blasts melted whatever they hit. The aliens looked just like in the briefing report, and the bastards were so difficult to look at that it was hard to aim properly, but the grenade they had given me worked pretty nicely. It was a quick mission. In the end, we took them out with no loss of personnel, and only two wounded. We returned to base after sweeping the area for salvageable technology.
- End Report -
As I exited the Skyranger to head for debrief, a severe looking woman in a lab coat grabbed my wrist, stopping me. She looked me up and down mechanically, as if she were filing away details for later examination. I could almost see the checklist building itself in her head. 6 feet, 2 inches, blonde, physically fit. I noticed that she had grabbed my wrist in such a way that it left her fingers on my pulse. She glared at me and spoke with a German accent, "Vaughn, yes? You will refrain from using explosives. I can hardly learn more about our enemy if all I have is charred bits and pieces to study."
"Uh, yes Maam," I stuttered. I don't rattle easily, but something about her cold and calculating demeanor made me shiver.
"Gut, I am glad you understand. I will be seeing you later, Herr Vaughn." And with that, she turned and walked briskly away.
I headed back to my room to find an envelope posted on my door. I noticed my name at the top and peeled it off of the door. It was a squad roster, and it seemed that I had been assigned to Alpha squad. I glanced over the list of other names.
Alpha Squad ("") (Acting) Squad Leader: SPEC Ziv Adler - Sniper Assistant Squad Leader: SPEC Kali Daratris - Medic 3: SPEC Ryan Shepherd - Engineer 4: SPEC Thomas Vaughn - Scout 5: PFC Mei Lee 6: PFC Serena Mc'ivor
There were a few more pages behind the list, and I glanced briefly at the listed biographies of my new squadmates, noting details that I thought would be worth remembering. I opened the door to my quarters and went inside and flopped down on my bed to process everything that had just happened. It didn't quite seem real. My head swam for half an hour with images of the past 48 hours. "Screw this," I said to myself. "I need to shoot something." I grabbed my pistol, a well loved Colt 1911 with "Morgana" carved into the wooden grip under my left hand, from my bag and headed out to find the range.
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Post by littlebaron on Oct 28, 2014 17:41:18 GMT -5
PKK Camp in Iraqi Kurdistan mountains. 1:04 AM, March 6th 2015
The moon shone bright and cold that night, casting clear shadows that the EXALT operatives slipped between like a creek through stones. The search for Aran Rekani had brought them here, her last confirmed sighting. They had their orders. Find out where she was- and leave no survivors.
The man entered one of the tents and knelt on the stomach of one of the Kurds. He shot awake in panic, but the man covered his mouth before a scream could escape and held the edge of a knife to his throat. "Where is Aran Rekani?" he demanded. The Kurd's eyes jerked back and forth frantically and he shook his head. The man sighed and slit his jugular. He crossed the tent and did the same thing to the other occupant. Still nothing.
This went on for an agonizing hour, the EXALT agents interrogating the militiamen and subsequently murdering them. It wasn't something they particularly enjoyed, but it was necessary. Finally, with the entire camp having been cleared, the operatives met up and made their way silently down the mountainside. Most of them had found nothing. But a few of them had managed to get two words out. It seemed insignificant, but it was all they needed.
Malta. XCOM.
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Post by AlexD on Oct 28, 2014 19:48:25 GMT -5
>Barracks, 0530 >Alex Donovan
“TENNN-SHUN!”
Still half-asleep, Alex stumbled out of bed and managed a passable salute as Sgt. Farell strode in. Astrid mumbled something that sounded like “godfkingdmit,” but a moment later she jumped down from the top bunk and stood at attention beside him.
“Blueshirt Durand!”
“Godfuckingdammit. Yes sir?”
“What is my opinion of hallucinogens and other mind-altering substances?”
“You Believe The Most Efficient Way To Alter Minds Is With A Boot To The Head,” she recited, “And Are Happy To Provide That Service To Any Soldier Who Requires It.”
“That is correct! But despite my generous offer, certain disreputable individuals still look for new methods of brain damage! Some have even speculated that ingesting powdered alien corpses will grant a 'heightened state of consciousness!' Blueshirt Whatodonovan! What is my response to this rumor?”
“Um...?”
“That is also correct! My response is 'Um,' because no words can encompass the cataclysmic stupidity of that suggestion! Nevertheless, Dr. Vahlen has requested a base security officer for the research labs! Blueshirt Whatodonovan!”
“Sir?”
“In light of your heroic efforts to keep our forces mostly-sober-some-of-the-time, I am assigning this task to you! You will report to Dr. Vahlen and discourage any other personnel from ingesting her research specimens!”
“Um. Yes sir!”
“Blueshirt Durand!”
“Yessir?”
“You will report to the armory and investigate who loaded Alpha Squad's magazines with the wrong caliber ammunition! When you find the individual responsible for this oversight, you will ask them whether they prefer to be beaten over the head with a 5.56mm or a 7.62mm stick!”
“Yes sir.”
“I am confident the two of you will prevent our forces from killing themselves before the aliens get a chance! DIS-MISSED!”
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Post by Serena Mc'Ivor on Oct 28, 2014 20:44:53 GMT -5
Serena stepped into the Shooting range, the muffled crack of gunfire making it relatively easy to find. She couldn't help but be impressed with the set up, it was easily 200 meters, with slats for programmable moving targets and countless bays for practice firing. Nonetheless she wasn't here for target practice, and slowly made her way through the shooting range looking for someone who would go by the name 'Ziv'. There were a few people currently at the range, though from Ryan's description Serena figured she could narrow down her search to a sniper, and of those, there was only one. She stopped behind the man, waiting in silence to make sure he wasn't about to take a shot before she cleared her throat.
"Uhm... Specialist Adler?" She asked.
The man glanced back at her, then returned to lining up his next shot.
"Adler is fine, Ms. Mc'Ivor. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The lack of eye contact immediately rubbed Serena the wrong way, she maintained her composure however.
"I received word that you'd requested me for your 'Alpha team' and I wanted to at least familiarise myself with you before deployment." Serena explained. "That and I'm curious of your take on this... 'enemy' of ours."
Adler paused, then unloaded his rifle and turned to face her.
"Fair enough. I'm surprised nobody else has done the same, actually. What did you want to know?"
"Well looking at armaments I can already tell you're a marksman," Serena stated, noting the make of rifle. "I'm curious as to how that will play into your role as section commander, but I'm more curious about these aliens; you've seen them in action, is there anything you can share on their combat tactics, weapons, resilience, abilities, resistance to unfathomable quantities of high explosives?"
"Yes, though not as much as I would like. What have you heard from the others?"
"About the aliens or about you?" Serena queried. "Because I'll be honest I've yet to receive glowing endorsements about either."
"I'm sure you haven't. I doubt most military types would be happy about suddenly being told someone who's as new to this as they are is now their commanding officer.” Ziv replied. “As far as my leadership abilities are concerned, your worry is understandable. I've generally operated alone in the past. But I'm a quick learner, and I've seen enough bad leaders to know what to avoid."
Serena smirked at the last comment. "God knows there's plenty of bad officers to go around, And frankly I'd rather be lead by someone who's actually been given the post on experience, rather than rank." She glanced aside at Adler's target. "And hell if you shoot that well in combat there's not much to complain about."
"I'm a bit out of practice, actually. I haven't been in open combat in 8 years"
"I assume it's like riding a bike," She said as she stepped up to the range for a better look. "I haven't held anything bigger than a 9mm in years, let alone fired a shot, but I'm pretty sure I still know where everything goes."
"Oh, I've fired plenty of shots. Just not at people who were shooting back."
"I guess it's a good thing our enemy isn't 'people' then." Serena quipped. "I should probably get in some practice before deployment, but while I'm doing my rounds I might swing by the labs or see if I can find any of my other squadmates, do you know where they might be hanging around?"
"You could try their rooms. As I said, you're the first to approach me, and I tend to keep to myself."
Serena nodded, in hindsight that seemed kind of obvious. "Alright I'll give that a whirl. Thanks for the talk, I look forwards to blowing up some squishy aliens for you."
As she turned to leave, Adler said "Before you go, I have a question. What have the others been saying about me? I'm curious."
Serena stopped, all at once remembering and also regretting her little comment. Nonetheless she turned back with her usual apprehensive smile. "That you were a sniper for six years, one of those, 'stone cold killer' types, maybe a little crazy."
She paused for a second, honesty was one thing but there was more to it. "I wanted to make my own opinion, but I wouldn't take much of it to heart; from the sound of things a little crazy is a prerequisite for recruitment here at... what did they call it,... 'XCOM'."
"Is that all?"
He paused for a moment, then chuckled.
"And what, pray tell, do you all think I've been doing for the past 8 years?"
Serena paused again for a while, carefully inspecting the nuances of his response, the flippant disregard for such simple childish murmurings, the rhetorical questioning.
"Well specialist Adler," Serena stated, carefully watching for a reaction. "Now that you mention it, if there's an 8 year gap in the rumours, it would suggest a man of your background could have been in the employ of military intelligence... either the CIA or more likely, Mossad."
He smiled at that.
"Well spotted. After my 6 years in the IDF, I was transferred to the Mossad as a wet work agent. So yes, I suppose I am one of those 'stone cold killer' types. And I'm glad to see you're as observant as I would expect from MI6."
"I have my moments," Serena shrugged. "And nice to see they put that in my file, they'll have to rename it "Her Majesty's not so secret service"."
She chuckled, the mossad thing didn't really faze nor surprise her, MI6 was no collection of boy scouts either.
"Alright thanks for your time."
"Any time."
He turned back towards his target and reloaded his rifle.
"And thank you for your candor. It's nice to talk to someone who says what they think for a change."
Serena nodded, waving as she headed out of the armoury, pausing briefly in the hallway. She could swing by the lab against recommendation of her peers, gruesome or not she really wanted to see first hand what she was up against. On the other hand maybe the rest of her team had moved in, she could remember a few names, a Daratris, Lee and Vaugn were the three she hadn't met yet. Eventually she made her mind and set off to swing by the labs. It was time to see what they were up against.
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Corazon-Ray
Private
Vahlen's newest toy...?
SPC Umber Onn (B*) Gunner
Posts: 39
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Post by Corazon-Ray on Oct 28, 2014 23:09:29 GMT -5
There are entirely too many names on this list... Umber thought to himself. Well, I'm gonna need someone who can fix whatever trouble I get us in to... A Doc, I need to find myself a doctor. He thumbed through the files eventually finding: Daniel Vázquez. Daniel starts with D, maybe I'll get lucky... Upon opening the file and seeing his sought after title, Umber moved with purpose to one of the available wall phones.
"Ops, can you tell me where Private Daniel Vázquez is?" He inquired.
"We don't track people during downtime soldier." came the bemused reply.
"Well could you get the Commander to call him to the cafeteria or something?"
"The Commander's time is a little more precious than that."
"Oh. Well, OK then. Tell the Grand Poo-Bah I said Hi." Umber set off down the hall before getting a reply. Guess I'll just search pattern all the places he could be...
---
...And he eventually found his mark at the Firing Range. Daniel was focused so very entirely on getting his aim just right that Umber; leaned up against the door to the range and making little attempt to stay quiet didn't acquire his attention until the man had expended every round in his magazine and was in the process of reloading. Daniel beat Umber to the punch on introductions:
"Oh, hello, you must be.. Umber, right? The Bravo team leader. Excuse me if I'm wrong I barely have talked to anyone around here yet."
Small Base, Word travels faster than I can read, which isn't hard but still, I'm gonna have to spend more time at the bar. Umber walked right up to the man and offered his hand enthusiastically.
"Yes that's right, I'm Umber." He replied. "and you must be Daniel. I've heard you're good at putting people back together in a hurry..."
Daniel set his rifle aside and took the offered hand.
"That's my job" - Daniel smiled - "And I'm always trying to be the best at it" - He took the assault rifle again - "On the other side it's been long since I shot one of these to something alive." - Daniel showed Umber the rifle - "So I'm working to fix that, I don't want to fail someone in the field."
"That's really very reassuring Private. It's my hope that you'll be able to put your practice to great effect in the future, and not spend too much time fixing up us schmucks too dumb to take real cover."
Umber shifted his heels for a moment then having been reassured at his first hunch he took a more formal tone.
"Private Daniel Vázquez," he said, butchering the last name, "I'd like to offer you a spot on Bravo Squad."
Daniel took a deep breath and tried to look to look his part. Once again he set his weapon aside.
"Sir, Will be an honor to be part of Bravo Squad." he replied.
Then Daniel offered his hand as only a comrade could.
"Everytime you need a patched up squad leader, leave it to me."
"Umber took the man's proffered hand, shook it and left Daniel with a formal "As you were Private" before headed back down the hall.
Alright, one down. Who's next...
---
Umber wandered into the Gym and looked around furtively. None of the people littering the room were any of the people he was looking for. He had just turned to leave when he caught a familiar face in the mirror. He walked up behind the man and gently announced himself.
"A word, Private Zale?"
"Sir!" Slater stood up at attention. "What can I help you with SPEC Onn?"
"Forever at ease Private." Umber replied, holding his rather disheveled looking files at his side. "Have you gotten yourself settled in here?"
"Yes Sir, It is definitely different than what I'm used to but I seem to have found my way around easily enough."
"That's good. So as you've probably guessed I have a reason for coming to see you."
"Of course sir, You look like you have a lot to do." Slater took a glance at the stack of paperwork under Onn's arm. "I'll try to help you as best I can."
"Music to my ears Private. I want to offer you a spot on Bravo Squad. I've glanced at some of these records and I think you'll be a good fit."
"I would be honored to accept sir, You wont be disappointed."
"That's good to hear soldier. Welcome aboard."
Umber picked a folder out of the jumble seemingly at random and walked out of the gym, looking as lost as when he'd entered.
---
Umber walked the living quarters corridors unsure of who to pick next. -Abruptly he turned to the closest door on his left and read:
Talia Ovdat Aran Rekani
Bingo Umber thought and rapped his knuckles on the door,-
Aran looks up from her book at the sound of the knock, an eyebrow raising in a vaguely annoyed expression. She glances over at Talia and nods almost imperceptibly, giving her the go-ahead to answer.
Talia offers as cheerful a reply as her tired self can muster, lifting her hands to her hair and threading her fingers through to try and make some last minute adjustments and look presentable. "Come in!"
Aran simply goes back to her book, paying very little interest to either the door, the mysterious visitor or her own hair.
- before gently pushing the door inward and stepping into the doorway.
"Specialists Ovdat and Rekani," He began earnestly, "How are you both doing?"
Lying on her back on the still bare mattress, Aran lowers her book just enough to let Umber see her eyes. The faded cover of the worn paperback shows a prominent red star, the title written in a language that is, most likely, completely unfamiliar to him. Her unnerving, piercing stare that seems to look through rather than at him commands quite a bit a more attention though.
Seemingly perfectly content with remaining uncomfortably silent for the moment she gives Talia the opportunity to speak for both of them.
Talia, in stark contrast to Aran, offers a friendly smile. "Good, if a little tired. Everything is moving very fast. It's a little draining." She sits upright, not seeming too badly shell-shocked or exhausted. "What's your name?"
Talia did her best to look cool and polite as she stared at the man who easily stood at least a foot taller than her, but the inner workings of her brain were a different matter: "God... he's ~huge~! Black people in Israel were never this tall! He's like a giant! What if he steps on me?"
"I'm Umber Onn, leader of Bravo Squad. I've read your files or at least the names on the files. I think I saw somewhere here-" Umber hefted the now thoroughly disorganized heap of folders and pages. He seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment before grinning.
"Basically I'm looking for people who excel to varying degrees of taking those bastards apart," Umber gestured to Talia, "and putting us back together again" his palm; open and upright now facing Aran. "You in?"
Aran raises a slender eyebrow and frowns at the mention of "files", lowering her book further to give Umber the benefit of her full, somewhat unsettling unsettling attention.
"Who else is in *your* squad?" The question leaves her mouth like a bullet, her accent notably harsher and more pronounced than Talia's.
"Well Ma'am, So far we have the venerable village doctor Vázquez, A helpful guy by the name of Slater, and the hotshot Thurston."
Umber forced himself to relax, if only visibly.
"And hopefully you two."
Aran's frown visibly deepens as Umber addresses her, a sharp edge with a hint of steel audible in her voice.
"A gender-based form of address is disrespectful, demeaning and unacceptable. You will use my name, or address me as *Comrade*."
With that, she shifts the attention of her rock-drill stare slightly, relieving the pressure on Umber as she glances, with considerably less overt annoyance, at Talia, seemingly waiting for the younger girl's response.
Talia rubs the back of her head, looking between the two a little awkwardly. "Uh..." Finally, after a long moment, she turns to look at Umber and offers a nervous smile. "I think that's the closest you're going to get to a yes... right?" She looks back to Aran and bites her lip, a little unsure if she had overstepped boundaries.
Aran keeps her focus on Talia for slightly longer than what really seems necessary or appropriate before turning her head to fix Umber with her eyes again, inclining her head just barely enough to qualify as a nod.
"I came here to fight, and I will do so in... *your* squad. I fired the first shot of this war, and I will fire the last."
With that rather cryptic declaration she once again turns her attention to her book as if the very large black man standing in her doorway had just vanished into thin air.
"... Heh. So there's your answer." Talia looks back to Umber and tilts her head. "Is there a, um... a meeting we'll need to go to? Or something? To meet the squad or build, uhh..." She bites her lip as she searches for the right word, then snaps her fingers suddenly and perks up. "Chemistry! To build chemistry? ... Or something?"
Aran speaks up without looking up from the book, an odd inflection to her voice.
"Chemistry is for blowing things up, not building them"
Umber raised his eyebrows slightly before grinning. This is going to be a fun war... He thought. In all senses of the phrase.
"No, there's no meeting scheduled or anything. I'm more of a 'let combat sort them out' type person, and anyway I imagine most of your squadmates will introduce themselves in short order."
Umber turned to leave the pair to their devices.
"Oh," He stopped and turned his head back to Talia, "There's no Squad 2nd until after our first Op together. Last one to kill a bad guy buys the first round and we'll see if a pecking order has established itself. Other than that, just make sure Comrade Consternation and yourself don't miss the 'ranger when it all goes down." Umber grabbed the handle and closed the door behind him, as gently as he'd opened it.
Talia nods a bit, barking out. "A-alright!" She barely fits in the farewell before the door shuts, then lets out a sigh and glances over to Aran again. "... Well... at least he's sane, right? And he seems like he can handle himself under stress." She takes a deep breath before offering a smile, trying to help get Umber on Aran's good side. "A little rough around the edges could be funny sometimes." ---
Umber had eventually made his way to the bar. I should take a break. I really don't need to be this high-strung. He walked up to the bar and at a good clip louder than the rest of the conversations combined asked: "CAN I HAVE A BEER PLEASE?"
A jibe from the peanut gallery was quick to quip back. "She's mute, not deaf you Oaf."
Upon receiving his beverage Umber looked at the fellow who'd spoken up and responded "THANK-YOU." every bit as loud as the first time. He wandered over to the pool table, noticing entirely too late that the man already there was someone from his shortlist. Umber asked/announced himself "TABLE OPEN?" one last time, purely to vex those who cared.
"Sure why not." Keith replied.
Umber decided to return to a more normal volume, for him at least. "Umber" He told the man, offering his hand.
"Keith." Came the reply.
Umber tossed the files that had so quickly become his ball and chain in the general direction of a nearby trash bin glad to be free of it. Some of the files had even gone in the bin. He turned back to Keith. "So Keith, you up for a game?" Umber gestured to the table before quaffing a good amount of his beer.
"Mugs away." Keith said to Umber, gesturing for him to break.
Umber chalked his queue and headed over to take the first shot, the balls bounced round the table but done sunk.
"Care to make this game interesting?? Keith asked.
"My mother told me never to play pool for money." Umber replied.
"Ha, mine too." Keith said. "But I was thinking of something far more interesting and dangerous than boring old money."
Umber looked at him curiously.
"I'll get you for letting Slater get first crack at Talia." Keith thought.
"Looser, has to make a pass at Dr Vahland." He announced.
"Damn those are some high, scary stakes, but your on. Oh god what if she shows interest??" Umber replied.
"It's XCOM baby, we're all here to risk our lives!!!"[/i]
They shook hands, "For those of you about to die, we salute you." Keith announced, then leaned forward and potted a ball. "Smalls" he said.
"Julius Caesar?" asked Umber.
"Actually I was thinking more AC/DC, but yeah Caesar probably said it too."
He second shot was a miss. Umber stepped up and sank 3 in a row.
"Ahh Squaddie Thurston get up on zee table and take your shirt off, I haz work to do." Keith said in his best German accent, shuddering.
"I hear you've been made squad leader, Bravo squad, is that rite." Keith asked.
"Correct, I've been asked to pick my own squad." Umber said gesturing to the mountain of paperwork laying scattered around the bin/floor.
"Ahh, I see your not much of a paperwork guy." Keith said.
Umber just looked at him and smiled.
"Should I consider this a job interview??" Keith asked as he sunk a ball, then proceeded to fluff his next shot.
"-Nah. I'm used to being lord of the bottom of the barrel. Being asked to put a team together is pretty much the most honest responsibility I've had in a long while." Umber glanced at his papers." "You'd probably already guessed as much."
After spending a moment lining up his next shot he ended up wide of his mark.
"Damn." Umber muttered. "Yeah, this isn't an interview. It's an offer of a position. You in?"
"Why, not."
"Who else, you got, Talia preformed well on my last mission." Keith added hopefully.
"I'd be a bit careful, about Jeff, even though he got 2 kills, there's no telling what Dr Vahland's done to him, plus she wants to give him a rocket launcher!!!"
"Already got Talia on board," Umber replied, "Along with that black-widow roommate of her's: Aran. Then there's Privates Slater and Vázquez that have also agreed. The squad won't have a 2nd until after the first Op, so if that's something you want... Prove it out there..."
"...Now quit toying with me and send me to Vahlen Romance hell."
"Slater and Talia, shit I'm definitely in then."
Keith leaned forward and potted 2 more balls. They game then progressed back and forth, until both players where on the black.
Keith leaned forward and lined his game shot up, visibly sweating, he struck the white ball and...
Never make a bet you aren't prepared to make good on... Ah Hell... Umber sighed to himself.
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Post by randomkeith on Oct 29, 2014 3:29:12 GMT -5
The black bounced around the pocket teetered on the edge then fell in, Keith suddenly realised he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a giant sigh.
"Oh thank God." He said, then turning to the dejected Umber. "Can I by a last drink for the condemned man??" "I'm going to need all the Dutch courage I can muster for my next mission, better make it a scotch, double." Umber replied. "Sure thing your going to need it."
As Keith approached the bar, he saw Slater walk in, nibbling away at a cookie.
"Hey, dude. Mission accomplished, Talia and I are going to meet up for drinks later." Slater said triumphantly.
"Errr, where did you get that cookie from??" Keith asked quizzically.
"There were 2 of them on our night stand I assumed one was for me, wasn't it?? Slater asked.
"No, those cookies where a gift from Dr Vahland, they've been in her lab." Keith replied.
Slaters jaw dropped open and half chewed cookie fell out onto the floor." Oh God." he said and ran to the bar picking up the complimentary jug of water and proceeded to skull it, tipping most of its contents over his shirt.
"Vodka, straight, now." He yelled at the disgusted bar staff. She handed him the drink, he shot it back in one gulp swished it around his mouth and spat it out into the empty jug. "Again" he demanded. This time the barmaid, just shook her head. "God dammit." he yelled. "I've got some mouthwash in my room." and with that he exited the bar at a run.
Keith turned to Umber, who's jaw was on the ground. "He just ate her cookies, you my friend may have to eat more than that." And with that Umber dropped his shoulders and shuddered.
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Post by Serena Mc'Ivor on Oct 29, 2014 5:00:04 GMT -5
-Receiving inter office email-
CAPT Adam Baker, OC-Logistics division - XCOM To: GSGT Liam Fenkman - Logistics
cc: Are you being serious?
No, are you actually being serious with me right now? I have a report here on my desk from one of the away team, claiming that they got into combat with 5.56 rounds for their 7.62 rifle. You are staffed with military personnel right? You didn't just pick random homeless people off the street? How the ACTUAL FUCK Did you idiots confuse a 5.56 for 7.62, they look NOTHING ALIKE. Furthermore, our 5.56 rounds are for our carbines and last i checked a carbine was not the same thing as an assault rifle. I don't know how you screwed up, but it's already been reported to Sergeant Farrell. If I hear anything like this happening again, he'll be the least of your problems. Assault rifles are 7.62 or 6.8 or 300 blackout/ .458 SOCOM IF they put in the right req forms. PLEASE DON'T FORGET. The fate of the world is kind of at stake here, and i don't want humanity enslaved because you mouth breathers loaded our interceptor cannons with pistol rounds.
-Yours very disappointingly
CAPT Baker - Officer Commanding Logistics Division - XCOM
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Post by Ziv Adler on Oct 29, 2014 7:18:13 GMT -5
Ziv Adler Personal Log Between missions 21:00 March 5, 2015
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Spoke with Ms. Mc'Ivor today. I took a gamble picking her for my squad, and it seems to have paid off. She's less of a hothead than I'd feared, and not afraid to speak her mind. Hopefully the rest of the squad follows her example.
I was surprised to learn that there was no mention of my work in the Mossad in my file, especially since Mc'Ivor's listed her time in MI6. I suppose Britain is less secretive than Israel. I do wonder what the men think I've been doing all this time though. As far as they know from my file, I've been retired for nearly a decade. Hardly good leader material. Hopefully I prove them wrong soon.
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run SUB-TEXT_embedded_message_decryption extracting [||||||||||] done decrypting [||||||||||] done
I've had a few run-ins with MI6. Very old-school organisation. All code names, dead drops, and - in the spirit of British imperialism - turning enemy agents. They tried it on me once; "Operation Snake Charmer" (I hope whoever came up with that name was fired. It's Adler, not adder). I reminded their man why nobody tries turn a Mossad agent. Last I heard he was still breathing through a tube.
Old-school or not, they get the job done. They aren't all James Bond wannabes, they just try to look that way. I look forward to working with Ms. Mc'Ivor.
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Post by Daniel Vázquez on Oct 29, 2014 10:29:24 GMT -5
Daniel was nervous. How long had it been since his last field operation? He smoothed his already grey beard while reading an old medical book that was lying on the desk. Luckily, despite his doubts he had not lost practice in his years lost in the mountains, no intellectually at least. After all the time practicing at the shooting range he felt able to engage in combat again. "Again...", he smiled.
He put the book aside and glanced at the record which he had taken the liberty of request in administration.
"Umber Onn: Squad Leader" - he readed.
Daniel liked Umber. A big guy, works well under pression, a born leader. He would be a good squad leader. Daniel looked his physical abilities: Umber was a incredibly large man, the necessary doses of basics drugs would be, minimum, twice. Although Daniel didn't cared to much about that, Morphine, coagulants ... the medical equipment in XCOM was practically inexhaustible.
He continued ahead to next name in the list: "Private Slater Zale", Born in Vancouver, Canada. Hungry for success, frontline soldier, competent. A bitter smile crossed Daniel's face, Slater looked like the typical magnet for bullets, but for that was Daniel there, if something happens to a soldier, he fix it. In Slater's report is written that during his career he already had received some several wounds. "Do I have to worry about that?" - Daniel though, but he supposed that if this were a problem, that problem should appear in the report, so he only made a note at the end of the copy of the Slater's file he had.
The following names were Talia Avdat and Aran Rekani. The first one was an Israeli soldier (A pretty young one) that has earned a series of promotions in different operations in Gaza, Aran on the contrary was an Iraqi soldier from the Kurdish faction. Aran's file was riddle with inaccuracies about her recruitment, Daniel didn't took this too serious and only made a few a notes about possible allergies to medicaments.
According to her file the Specialist Rekani had received training in virtually every field of combat, even as a doctor, that idea excited Daniel, had been years since he had shared experiences with another doctor.
However Daniel knew that because of their nationalities Ovdat and Rekani were an time bomb for the squad. But for him both of them seemed competent people, he even knew they shared room, if they didn't started fighting already, he doubted they would fight each other under fire from small gray men.
And the last soldier ... Keith Thurston, a member of the Australian SAS, specializes in close combat, impatient, impetuous ... but reliable. As another soldier from the front line with that profile he had to check if Thurston had previously been wounded in combat and if it was going to cause some impairment in combat. Daniel knew well that these thing were under supervision of the base hospital but the least thing he could do was to know if the medicine he was going to give them is going to kill them too.
After sticking all the copies from the files with his annotations in the wall in front of him he put the originals inside a briefcase. And he sat down in the desk chair again, he closed his eyes for a few minutes and instinctively opened the top drawer of his desk which drew an old Makarov pistol.
"Looks like I'm going to have to use you again old friend"
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Post by venomousthoughts on Oct 29, 2014 11:06:19 GMT -5
Serena nodded, waving as she headed out of the armoury, pausing briefly in the hallway. She could swing by the lab against recommendation of her peers, gruesome or not she really wanted to see first hand what she was up against. On the other hand maybe the rest of her team had moved in, she could remember a few names, a Daratris, Lee and Vaugn were the three she hadn't met yet. Eventually she made her mind and set off to swing by the labs. It was time to see what they were up against. I passed a red-haired woman with something metal on her jaw who moved like she was on a mission while on my way to the gunnery range. Upon entering the outer door to the range, I took a moment to appreciate the fact that this place was underground. I had seen smaller outdoor ranges. I collected a few targets, chose a pistol lane, set 3 targets at their maximum of 100 meters, and took Morgana from her holster. I flicked her safety off, and smoothly fired a trio of rounds at each target. The rhythm of it soothed me. Chest, chest, head. Chest, chest, head. Chest, chest, head. I went on like that for a while, changing magazines and enjoying the sounds of casings striking the concrete beside me. I supposed that I should go figure out who my squadmates are and introduce myself. I holstered my pistol and turned to leave, neglecting to call the targets forward or remove them from their clips. I already knew the neat triangular patterns that my shots would show.
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Noobalisious
Lance Corporal
ALL HAIL MECTOSECTODISC !!!
Posts: 68
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Post by Noobalisious on Oct 29, 2014 16:35:22 GMT -5
"Shit" Edd exclaimed as he missed the target for the umpteenth time, he hadn't remembered handguns weighing so much but then again this was a Xcom XDM 4.5" .45ACP so he wouldn't be suprised if it was lead lined to be used as a club against those things he'd seen come back from the shot down UFO. They still gave him the creeps with those bulbous heads but apparently Dr.Valen loved them. As he replaced the magazine in the gun he thought "Last one then head to the hanger and see what the engineers are doing with my girl" Firing of the magazine and not getting a bullseye Edd roared in anger, had he really forgotten his sidearm training already? He'd need to get some regular soldier retrain him because if what he had heard was right this place was for the best of the best and there would be no need for a bad grounded pilot. He took a mouthful from his hip flask and threw his gun down the range at the target hitting it on the bullseye. "Of course I get a bullseye now!" He exclaimed. Security wouldn't be happy to know he'd left his sidearm in the firing lane and was not properly outfitted. But maybe AlexD would find it and just give him a warning. Taking another gulp from his hip flask noticing it was almost empty he decided he'd go refill it then head to engineering to discuss landing procedures with Dr.Shen and then check on his girl.
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Post by bumblebee on Oct 29, 2014 19:20:54 GMT -5
As David leaves the hanger where the transport dropped him and his belongings off, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the facility he was entering, and the technological prowess that was evident in every room and machine. The fighter craft that he spotted in the hanger were much more advanced than those he was used to working with, but he was sure that the pilots were as cocky as ever. After dropping his bags off in his surprisingly empty and comfortable (at least compared to his old ones) he decided to go spend some time in the bar to meet people. Before he makes his way to the bar, David can't help but think back to the day that XCOM approached him with the intention of hiring him. Initially he was surprised, but they stated that his actions during the ambush that almost wiped out his entire platoon were testament of the skill required among those admitted to their ranks. While at first he was skeptical of the whole "Saviors of the Earth" mentality, the pay grade was multitudes higher that what he earned before, and after a site of the Labs during his tour he was more than convinced of the existence of the invaders. After reaching the bar proper he took a seat on one of the stools and asked the bartender, a Middle Easter woman, for a cold beer. After drinking about half of the bottle he started chatting with the bartender, or at least attempting to. Despite his best efforts she never responded, but didn't ignore him. David suspected she was either a mute or just very shy, and felt inclined to ask one of the other base personal about her when the time came.
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