Fresh Faces and New Gear (New Marines+Command)

[Durant, M.]

A moment of silence passed between Lieutenant Durant and the replacements. Durant took the time to size up the Marines that would soon be fighting alongside him in the future. From what he had gathered from their CSVs, they were a decent batch. All but two of the Marines that stood before him had experienced combat at least once in their careers. Gunnery Sergeant Daniel Sabre had seen the most out of all of them, and his previous commanding officer had nothing but good things to say about the man.

All in all, it wasn't a bad batch. Time would tell whether or not any of that would make a difference, however. Experience reminded him that the First Suicide Battalion had a tendency to send people home in body bags quite frequently.

"Lieutenant, sir."

The distinctly Russian voice returned the officer back to reality. He turned his head slightly to face the Marine whom had addressed him. Lance Corporal Mihaylov. Best units not have friends. Anyone we need to watch for? Fresh faces make targets often, sir."

Michael almost chuckled at the question, despite the fact that it was a legitimate question. Did Oscar Company have enemies? The simple answer to that question was yes, but it was a far more complicated situation than that. The rivalry between November Company and Oscar Company had been in existence long before recent events. He remembered his first day in the company, when Lieutenant Johansson had been the one to inform him to give their sister company and its Marines a wide berth.

He wasn't sure what had started it all, but he did know it was there. Hell, by now, the whole ship was aware of its existence. The rivalry between the two companies was the entire reason behind Colonel Harrison's decision to keep Oscar Company in cryo while November Company remained out of the freezers. It was decided that any interaction outside of combat between the two units needed to be avoided like the plague, lest further issues crop up.

"Well, Lance Corporal -"

Lieutenant Durant was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Sergeant Stone. Since the inappropriate and decidedly sexual relationship between Staff Sergeant Cruz and Private First Class Wilkas had sprung out of the proverbial bag and the latter was relieved of his duties, Sergeant Stone had to undertake the mantle of responsibility left in the void. Michael had to admit that he was impressed with his ability to handle the duties and responsibilities of the platoon sergeant billet while still technically assigned as his first squad leader.

The NCO had not once faltered in the execution of his duties, and even seemed a tad bit chipper as a result. Stone often enjoyed lamenting that he preferred his job as a squad leader over his former duties as a platoon sergeant, but his recent actions while temporarily holding down the bullet said differently of his feelings. Durant wondered if, somewhere deep down, the grizzled veteran missed his former position within the platoon. He knew the man would never admit to it out loud, but his actions spoke volumes about his true feelings.

"Sir," the NCO greeted before turning his attention to the new arrivals. The Sergeant broke into the usual song and dance of how unimpressed he was with the replacements and how they would have a great deal to prove to him before he would officially accept them as members of Second Platoon. Whether or not he truly felt that way was not something he knew, but either way, it mattered little. At the end of the day, the new arrivals would either impress or disappoint them all.

The price for failure was a body bag.

It was a grim thought; but, it was also the reality of life in the infantry, and moreso Oscar Company. Those unworthy of their position within the unit would be weeded out in the most terrible of ways imaginable, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to change that. It was, very simply, a fact of life.

"Carry on, Sergeant," Michael whispered back to the NCO with a smirk. With that, he returned his attention to Lance Corporal Mihaylov, whom was likely anxious for the answer to his query. "Lance Corporal, if you are worried of being confronted by anyone outside of our company, you needn't. Whatever issues we may have had in the past with our sister units has been resolved, and beyond that, you will have every able-bodied Marine in the company looking after you."

Hopefully that was answer enough for the young Marine. He eyed the others that stood in formation before him. "Any other questions?"

[Torngate, D.]

Torngate to two quick steps forward as soon as his name was barked out. He followed strict discipline, although he knew he was probably one of the more inexperienced members of the group. He listened to the questions presented, but kept his mouth shut. From going from the back lines of everything to the front lines of combat, he was excited for the change, but wasn't as thrilled with the idea of weapons discharge in the other direction. 

He listened to the question on enemies, and appreciated the answer. The speaker was someone who had a most definitive Ruskie accent. Torngate started to get uneasy at the extended time it was taking to do inprocessing, but then again... He'd let the others take point. He was more than happy to just lay back and watch them. He made mental note as to the TP rule and extra ammo. He agreed. Better to have too much to shoot with than not enough. An easy way to make friends was to have extra ammo to pass out, provided you both survived the encounter. 

He was annoyed his first duty was to be cryo-frozen, as he'd had plenty of time for naps already. He wanted to fight, not sit around in a metal tube that was just bigger than he.

He immediately knew he was one of the ones who would need to earn a welcome, preferably coming back again and again breathing not bagged, but he knew who the two experienced ones were. He didn't take it personally. He wasn't going to fit in well at first. He heard the comment of "you weren't gonna say it", and his suspicions of the higherarchy not liking newbies was all but confirmed. His stoic and at parade rest attitude faltered ever so slightly, as he bit his lip and his eyes cast down for only a few seconds. He quickly - but likely not quick enough - recovered his manner and stood up a tad bit straighter than he did. He was hurt sure, but he had expected it.

[Killinger, J.]

John took a step back to give Lieutenant Durant room to do his duties after Flannigan had dismissed the formation. What bogged the Major down mentally was reports he had gotten but hadn't talked to the Colonel about. He hated being misinformed but the rumours he had been hearing from the Battalion's staff was startling. As the executive officer of the battalion he was honestly a little disappointed in the Lieutenant Colonel for not keeping him in the loop but couldn't blame the man for letting it slip from the mind; Harrison was a fine officer and John was satisfied with his post under the man but the CO was seemingly under a lot of stress.

Of course he could read the official reports and what not on his data pad, or even old fashioned pen and paper. This time, and typically actually, John used his data pad to browse information. He stumbled upon the medical report for PFC Wilkas and his face went blank. No expression, no emotion, just a neutral face; he had just read something he wasn't even aware of until this point; it had happened a while ago and he was just learning of it. Was it his own incompetence, perhaps? John felt ashamed he didn't know what had happened until now.

He knew Durant just received a new platoon sergeant and he knew Cruz had been kicked from the spot, but not once did he put the pieces of the puzzle together until this very moment.

"Captain Flannigan, do you have a moment to speak about PFC Wilkas's medical report?" John asked.

"If you have the time, of course."

[Flannigan, S.]

Flannigan stood off to the side monitoring his Lieutenants for a few minutes. He wasn't one for micro managing, but there was always a chance to improve and it was rare someone changed without it being pointed out to them. It was times like this that he truely was able to embrace his position as a mentor and he took that job more seriously than others. It was also one of the few times that Lieutenant Hernandez didn't need his hand held. The man was a dream in the rear when he stopped asking advanced questions and just did his job. Combat....that was a different story.

"Captain Flannigan, do you have a moment to speak about PFC Wilkas's medical report?" He heard the XO call. "If you have the time, of course."

'And there it is,' Shay thought to himself. It was only a matter of time until this happened, and he was ready for it.

"I always have time Sir," Flannigan said with a curt nod, turning to move away from the general population of new faces. For all they knew right now, it was an actual medical thing and not a freaking debacle. "Step into my office and we'll look it over."

Flannigan led the way over to a more remote part of the hanger. When Major Killinger joined him he did his best to not be a complete ass about it. Based on the tone of his voice, the Major had sounded more surprised than angry. It was a more personal approach, and one that Flannigan could appreciate. So rather than be defensive and live up to his reputation, Flannigan tried to be a bit more congenial despite himself.

"So, not everyone listens to scuttlebutt, eh Major," Flannigan said with an attempted laugh. It sounded halfhearted and forced. "What do you want to know? Most of it's in the Article 15 we filed, but I assume you've put more together than just the files."

[Killinger, J.]

"I always have time Sir. Stop into my office and we'll look it over." Captain Flannigan said. John followed the man through the hanger briefly and they stopped - not at his office but at a quieter area - to discuss it. It was away from larger groups and more private, John didn't think too much of it though. The irony of any place, any time was an office was humorous for the Major; he had pulled the same card as well. 'Step into my office' while he went around the corner to talk more privately. Just one of those 'things'.

"So, not everyone listens to scuttlebutt, eh Major?" Flannigan asked through an awkward chuckle. "What do you want to know? Most of it's in the Article 15 we filed, but I assume you've put more together than just the files."

It was his turn to be a little awkward. A slight grin but the look of guilt on his face. "I try not to listen to rumours," the Major said. Obviously he heard things but John tried to never engage on rumours alone. "Honestly I just read the medical report on Wilkas and I just learned about the article 15 from you. I'm in the dark, I want to see the light, if that makes any sense. I had to put together Cruz leaving, Sabre joining your company and Wilkas's medical report just to grasp the concept." John added. He felt heat on the back of his neck, like Flannigan was about to judge him for being an incompetent executive officer. Obviously he couldn't let any potential opinions reflect on his duty but none the less it was on the back of his mind, though he tried hard not to show it physically.

John and Cruz had a history. The Major had NJP'd Cruz to Staff Sergeant for the incident on the pelican instead of a court martial; he honestly wanted to know what the man had done this time. "Please explain to me what happened between Cruz and Wilkas other than their unauthorized relationship. The medical file I have is one for a pregnancy but I don't see anything here other than that from the battalions medical staff." John asked. "To be blunt I'd rather hear it coming from you, someone who dealt with it first hand it seems, than a text. A voice is much easier to read than words on a screen. If you'd like Lieutenant Durant can join this conversation as Wilkas is his RTO."

[Mihaylov, D.]

Mihaylov's question was about to be answered when a loud, whirlwind of an NCO hit the scene. It was all Dmitrii could do not to start laughing. The man had to be joking with an act like that, and yet there was the sincerest of looks to be read on his face. Dmitrii knew the games NCO's played, and while this looked every bit the part of those games, something in Sergeant Stone's demeanor said this went beyond that. Dmitrii choked on his chuckle, swallowed it back down out of respect, and chose to wait for a better time to learn about their acting Platoon Sergeant. 

That lead to the next thought. Gunnery Sergeant Sabre must be the new Platoon Sergeant. He looked the part if nothing else. It had to be. That would make him the salt, which was accurate. Taking a look at the rest of the replacements, he had to chuckle. Sergeant Stone had pegged them all pretty well, if not in a gruff, heavy handed way. The other privates were all green as grass. He would help them all out though. No reason to be an ass with your own people. He would be interested to see what happened in the upcoming weeks. After the freezers, of course.

"Aye sir," he said softly to Lieutenant Durant's answer. It was a non answer, or at least a politically correct one. He'd have to find out the hard way, and was glad that they wouldn't be alone for the first stretch. There were always rivalries, and he didn't want to end up as a stepping stone for some other Lance to make a reputation on. It made him miss the ocean, where life was simple.

[Winters, R.]

All this coming and going, in the ranks of the officers and commanding officers was sort of starting to confuse Raven, but she kept a srtaight face. She listened to the Russian guy about possible hostilities with other company. She instinctively made and angry face and for a moment actually forgot where she was and what her current situation was. Raven hated bullies and arrogance people who thought that they where better then somebody else, just because they had been in a place for longer then a few fresh faces. She hated bullies who looked down on new members and felt like they could humiliate and hurt others. She would so want to teach some of those assclown a damn hard lesson on being bullied. She cleared her throat and spoke. "With all due respect, sir... but nobody in in there right minds will mess with Oscar Company... we will watch each others back... here, as well as out there. " She probably spoke in the name of all the Company and nodded gently. She then watched as they discussed some medical issue of one of the other female marines. Seeing as they walked away, far enught from the Greenies, so they could not actually head them, Raven judged this as some serious medical thing. 
After a few long seconds, Raven once again got semi-lost in her memories. Her parents would be proud of her, and when it would be her time... to go... she would gladly join her parents. Sure, this thought was borderline into religion, but who gave a damn. Heck, maybe she was religious. Even Raven herself could not fully decide it. 

(Sorry for the delay and the probably crappy post ) 

[Edward, Z.]

Edwards looked around as he watched the two leave. He listened quietly as everyone around him talked. He really wasn't interested in any of the conversations. He went up to the wall next too him and leaned against it.

"Hmm." The pelicans are almost finished unloading, he thought as he could easily slip back on one  of them without anyone really noticing. He looked around as looking at everyone. By the time his mind was set, the Pelicans had started to take off. "Rats."  Well I'm stuck now, hopefully I'll barely be noticed.

Letting go of the stainless steel case, the case dropped only a few inches as the handcuff kept it from hitting the floor. "Lets see if this will make it through the scanners." He said quietly to himself, knowing fully that everything he had wouldn't pass the radiation scanners.  Hell I'm even Irradiated.

This was going to be a long day. He knew if the ship's scanners considered him dangerous from his internal radiation levels, they would either throw him in DE-containment for as long as it took to stop emitting the radiation or throw him in a corner alone from everybody. Which would be fine by him. Being a loner wasn't bad, because no one knew you went missing or if something happened.

As he leaned against the wall he waited. What was his fate. He sighed  while he listened to everybody. "Crimson, hope you are alright." He mumbled.

[Stone, T.]

Stone stood beside Lieutenant Durant with his hands clasped behind his back, his cold grey eyes fixed upon the new arrivals, scrutinizing them. He fought the urge to grin at Mihaylov's question. Did Oscar Company have enemies?

They sure did. Throughout the unit's long and illustrious history, it had accrued a long list of enemies ranging from people outside the battalion to the more widely publicized rivalry between them and November Company. The rivalry that had caused the battalion so much grief over recent weeks had started years ago -- nearly fourteen to be exact -- and had somehow managed to persist without much interference from up the chain. The circumstances of the event that had first initiated the bad blood between the two units had long been forgotten, even by Stone, but the grizzled NCO had known that it was only a matter of time before the tensions between the two groups erupted into a full scale war against each other.

Unfortunately, the events that had led up to such an event occurring could have easily been avoided had their commanding officer not let his pride get the better of him, but either way Stone had known that it had been bound to happen. Captain Flannigan had kept Lance Corporal Upshaw against the wishes of Upshaw's previous commanding officer, Captain Alexander, and refused to hand him back unless the November Company Commander engaged him in close quarters combat.

What had initially been a heated disagreement between two officers behind closed doors eventually trickled down the chain of command until junior Marines from Alexander's company began specifically targeting members of Oscar Company to attack as revenge for the loss of one of their own. However, even that had not been the catalyst to what some would have coined as an all out war between the two parties.

No. Corporal Evan Davis had taken it upon himself to carry that title around with him when he hosted an illegal party in one of the ship's simulators. While the exact circumstances that had caused the altercation were muddied and unclear, Stone was aware that some kind of argument took place between First Team and members of November Company that resulted in a fight taking place. That fight between two small groups of Marines exploded into an all out brawl between the enlisted personnel of Oscar Company and November Company; one so out of hand that the ship's entire contingent of MAs were dispatched to quell the riot.

Now all of the battalion suffered from the cold, unwavering hand of non-judicial punishment. The majority of the battalion received merely a slap on the hand, but Corporal Davis and his team endured the brunt of the punishment. For his part in both the brawl and the organization of the party that took place in the sims, Corporal Davis had been forced to spend a week in the brig, with Lance Corporal Avery temporarily placed in charge of the fire team until the NCO's sentence had expired. First Team received a verbal reprimand from the battalion's sergeant major, loss of pay for three months, and confinement to quarters for a month.

He sighed inwardly. The farm boy always found a way to stir up some trouble. It mattered little to him if he was planetside or on an extended cruise on one of the UNSC's most powerful and advanced warships to date; Corporal Evan Davis would do as he pleased.

Stone was pulled away from his thoughts when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He settled his eyes on Lance Corporal Edward, whom stepped out of formation and leaned himself against a wall that was a few short feet away. His expression shifted to a scowl as anger suddenly welled up inside of him. That disrespectful, undisciplined sonofabitch, he thought angrily.

Stone shot forward from his spot beside the platoon commander and closed the distance between him and Lance Corporal Edward. He stopped just inches short of the younger man's face. "DEVIL DOG!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "what in the Sam Hell do ya think yer doin'?! Who in the fuck dismissed ya from formation? Huh? I don't care whether yer legs hurt or ya've been shot in yer Goddamn chest, ya will not step outta my formation 'n lean against a Goddamn wall!"

He glared unblinkingly at the junior Marine. Stone lifted a single finger into the air and drove it into Edward's chest for emphasis. "I dunno how things work in the POG world, but yer hangin' with the grunts now, 'n until the El-Tee says otherwise, yer ass is mine! Do ya understand me, Marine?!"

[Flannigan, S.]

"Well Major," Flannigan said slowly, trying to figure out the best way to put it. "You pretty much have the long and short of it there. From the best we can figure, with neither of them admitting to much, is they had a fraternizing relationship that ended in a pregnancy that Private First Class Wilkas terminated. There was no harrassment or favors or anything like that, but we had to remove the two from the situation. That being said, we weren't much a fan of losing Staff Sergeant Cruz, so he now holds our Company Gunny seat. There was only a bunch of circumstantial evidence and this just seemed the best route. I'm surprised to hear the Colonel didn't bounce it off of you at some point."

Flannigan kept himself from visibly flinching at the final statement. It sounded like sowing bad feelings, which he wasn't trying to do. He was legitimately surprised. However, as was often the case, Flannigan suffered from being forthright and honest. It was an endearing trait to his men, a winning trait with his NCO's, but one that often left him on the outside of the upper ranks of the Corps. Fortunately, that box was the furthest one down on his list. He wasn't out to make friends, just keep his boys alive, including his new faces that just arrived.

"How goes the unload," he asked, changing topics and making small talk. His Lieutenants were holding their own just fine, even with Sergeant Stone recently arriving like a hurricane. "Everything looked pretty seemless from what I saw. Lieutenant Matheson speaks quite highly of your organizational skills. I don't know how much is you and how much is him, but I'm glad the logistics around here run so smoothly. Makes my life a million times easier."

[Mihaylov, D.]

As the female to his left spoke up, Dmitrii tried to hide his mixed feelings. The devushka had spirit and plenty of fight, but she was obviously green as they come. She needed the rest of the tour and a round of combat to settle her down a bit, but she would fit in here. He wasn’t about to pass that bit of information on to anyone, but he was finding his new platoon mates to be an interesting bunch.

Dmitrii looked at his feet and shook his head as the POG with a briefcase was jumped by Sergeant Stone. It was a classic mistake, but not one that would be forgotten anytime soon. Edwards was new to this world, and while he carried the rank, he would be eaten alive if he didn’t learn quickly. If not by the NCO’s than by the piranhas of the junior enlisted. Grunts were not a live and let live group of people and he could only hope that Edwards would find a way to swim rather than sink.

That left Torngate, who was a harder picture to read. He was not fresh out of boot, lacking some of the telltale markings, but he wasn’t seasoned either. Guys like that were always tricky to deal with. Like any Marine, he had pride, but he lacked any real experience to temper it and gauge his abilities against an enemy. Some of those types would explode when confronted, letting that pride get the better of them. Mihaylov hoped that wouldn’t be the case here,

It was as good a home as he could find in the Corps, and he would take it for now. While he didn’t love the idea of being back in the freezers, he wanted to get there and through all of the admin nightmare that was in-processing. Medical exams, wandering around a new ship, being given more information than you could process only to be locked up in a freezer at the end of it all. He wished they could do all of it while they had you in Cryo. At least then you wouldn’t care when they didn’t leave you alone.

[Killinger, J.]

John could appreciate wanting to switch from an awkward conversation. Talking about the pregnancy and the following termination of that pregnancy for a Marine under his command wasn't exactly the most pleasant topic to be discussing with a man you had only served with a few short months. Time in the ice box not included, obviously, and this had been the first 'real' conversation they had had together since John had joined the unit in the first place. Before now it had been just radio transmissions on operations and reports such as the after action report. 

John decided to tackle the elephant in the room head on. "I'm not here to make you feel awkward, Flannigan." He said. "Apologies, wasn't my intent, I just needed to know some information."

Canadians. 

Even through five hundred years of cultural evolution, you can't change a trees root if you tried. They're still just roots. 

And Canadian's were still overly polite... for the most part. 

Then there was Stone. Stone wasn't Canadian at all, but he was putting up quite the display. 

"Mhmm. You know, I'm not sure if I'm a POG or not any more. I used to be an infantry platoon leader, but I'm not quite sure now at this age and rank. In a way I miss being a Second Lieutenant." John stated with a chuckle. "But let me tell you something. If a POG joined my platoon looking like the one getting yelled at by Stone right now I'd be looking at you like 'what the fuck, sir'. I haven't seen this type of display in a long time." 

He briefly paused, just long enough to seemingly catch his breath. 

"But the unload is going smoothly. I have nothing but good things to say about your logistics officer as well. Organized, and honestly, it's probably more him than I. I just make sure your company, and the other companies in the Battalion, have their supplies good to go and leave the company level logistics to the chain of command. If your Lieutenant needs anything I'm more than willing to pull a few cards and get the required materials he needs. I'll do the paper work later. That goes for any unit in this battalion though, can't play favourites."

John paused for a moment and turned to look at Flannigan. 

"Between you and I... Unofficially, of course, I'd bet fifteen credits on one of the new arrivals going missing after in-processing."

[Chambers, T.]

The Ride in to the Vengeance had been interesting enough for him to listen to, everyone was trying to figure out the unit from bits of information, rumour and probably some hope. They had disembarked the Pelican and formed up to listen to formation and briefing had been mostly what he expected then they moved into platoon formation.

Once into their platoon group, their platoon CO, Durant introduced himself and spoke briefly, their company and another seemed to be pretty aggro at each other, not a great start, now all he needed was a company of marines out to get him for two reasons, it was hard enough being former Navy, let alone a Company on company grudge match.

The real welcome was about to come and it did pretty quickly, he'd flown under the radar, this time at least or he was being saved for later. If there was one thing about Marine NCO's like Stone, that man already knew what he had once been and was going to make Tom pay for it. They usual unwelcome welcome came from him and it wasn't something that had bothered him, he figured it made them into what they needed them to be willing to risk it all for their fellow Marines, even a squid like him, he owed a Marine more than his life, that's why he was here trying to pay that back to the corp.

The unexpected then happen almost a twitch from Sergeant Stone, the Sergeant had been looking near him but when the brickshithouse of man rushed past him, his gaze like everyone else's fell upon the victim. The guy was leaning against a wall, 'how the hell did anyone think that was a good idea' he thought.

Watching the unfolding spectacle in front of him it took just about all of his willpower not to show anything, what he was thinking however was that any punishment from here on out was only going to get worse.

[Flannigan, S.]

“Don’t apologise to me sir,” Flannigan said with a chuckle. “I live my life from one awkward social interaction to the next. Comes with being Irish. Give us a hot toddy and the world's amazing, but leave an irishman to hold a sober talk and you’d think yer shoes were interestin’.”

His chain of thought, and heavy Irish accent, were interrupted by Sergeant Stone tearing into one of the new marines. Wheeling around to see the commotion, Flannigan saw the offender pushing himself off the wall with Stone’s eight pointed NCO cap bill inches from his nose. Stone would have made one helluva DI if he could hold his rank long enough to get out of a line unit. It occurred to him that he spent more time thinking of his men’s careers that he did his. Flannigan inwardly chuckled at the irony. Still it was an impressive display.

"Between you and I... Unofficially, of course, I'd bet fifteen credits on one of the new arrivals going missing after in-processing," Major Killinger said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Unofficially I’d take that bet sir,” Flannigan said with a smirk. “None of my Marines go missing. That lad won’t like where he ends up, but we’ll know exactly where he is. If you’ll excuse me though Major, I have some junior officers to supervise. Not all of them know their way around handling green Marines yet. A good opportunity to see who needs remedial training.”

[Durant, M.]

If there had been a chance for Durant to address the issue of Lance Corporal Edward's severe lack of military discipline and bearing, it had been swept right out from under him. Sergeant Stone bolted forward in a blur of motion towards the offending Marine before the officer had even the opportunity to open his mouth to speak. Stone was in the Marine's face in the blink of an eye, verbally berating the young man for his gross lack of judgment.

The scene reminded Durant of the beginning phase of Officer Candidates School, where the candidates met the drill instructors that would be with them until the end of the initial phase of training, and how they reacted similarly to errors made by the candidates. Durant had heard somewhere that Stone had once expressed interest in becoming a drill instructor, but was unsure of what happened that kept him from doing so. In the lieutenant's honest opinion, he could not see the Sergeant anywhere else but the battlefield.

Shaking his head, he turned and regarded the other replacements with amusement. "As you can probably tell we run a tight ship here. The key thing to remember is that we are all here as warriors; we must be willing and ready to do war on humanity's behalf at any moment, without hesitation. If your combat skills have not been sharpened, they will in the coming weeks. We train like we fight: hard."

He paused and let his words sink in for a moment. The group seemed mostly promising, but then again, so did all of them. Time would tell if the men and women standing before him would last for the duration. "Now, I will be taking you lot to the armory, where you will be assigned your weapons and given their serial numbers. Your weapons will be kept in the armory for safekeeping until we deploy. Make sure you memorize the serial number associated with your weapon. Afterwards, I will be taking you to sick bay for a quick evaluation by the corpsmen up there and then sending you off to your berths."

He regarded them once more for a moment. "While we are in the armory you will also be receiving your billets so that you know whom you will report to after we exit the freezers. Later tonight you will be placed into cryo along with everyone else, but we want to give you some time to acclimate to the ship and your berths before tossing you in the cans. Oorah?"