Fresh Faces and New Gear (New Marines+Command)

[Torngate, D.]

Torngate was shocked as a whirlwind of drill sergeant rushed passed him. He stiffened up, just barely avoiding being run over by the oncoming person. He looked around and saw one of the other new recruits... No, not new. He had the rank but he was being berated like a little cadet again. He leaned back on his heel as the man passed due to proximity but then regained his positioning.

He then snapped back his attention to the man in charge, listening closely. He looked forward to training, it was something he thoroughly enjoyed. He smiled as he looked around, but kept silent until told to speak. He was used to a tight and strict formation, and so would keep himself out of trouble. He'd never been through inchecking on a ship before so he waited to see how it would go.

He looked forward to getting his weapon back, as unbeknownst to him he had begun unconsciously fiddling with his pistol holster, empty at his side. He was ready for memorization, and he would give his job his all. He didn't look as forward to his physical, it'd been one year and one day save one day since he had last had his physical, so he was due for another one. He also looked forward to receiving his billet so he could get to work. He had studied the schematics of the ship, but was liable to get lost still. "OORAH" he responded to the call, along with the others. He grabbed his seabag and waited to follow his new commander.

[Edward, Z.]

Edwards listened to the threats against him. Just like in boot camp he thought as the angry higher ranking officer yelled and made threats. This was something that Edwards was used too.

"A Cog works well in its machine. Unfortunately this cog got put in a machine that doesn't fit well and slips often." Edwards said as he while stared back unfazed. "I know I said Cog not Pog." He knew that Sargent Stone probably didn't listen and care. After Sargent Stone finished yelling at Edwards, he moved back into position. "I guess I need to hone in my skills a little better, eh boss, I mean Sarge." He grinned knowing that Stone looked like he was ready to murder.

Edwards looked down for a brief second at the case, the indicator next to the key locks were just about 30 minutes away from going into the red zone on the indicator. If he didn't get to the arranged meeting place he was going to have to refill it with the coolant in his duffel bag soon. He knew that the less people knew what was in the case the better. By the way things were turning out, he was going to be late. "Dam, where is he? I want to get rid of this case." Edwards muttered quietly knowing that someone from the engineering crew was supposed to meet him.

[Stone, T.]

If Stone had been perturbed before, he was infuriated now. He glared at the undisciplined lance corporal that stood in front of him, indignant, unfazed by the verbal thrashing he had just received as if it were no big deal. It almost threw him off his game.

Almost.

Rage boiled within him like a bowl of soup in a microwave. His fists clenched at his sides as thoughts of striking the young man crossed his mind, flashing through it like a bullet train. No one -- no one -- disrespected Sergeant Thomas Jeremiah Stone and lived to tell a happy tale. Lance Corporal Edwards would pray for bloody murder by the time he was finished with him, that much he was certain of.

"Marine," Stone muttered, keeping his voice as flat and level as possible, "you have exactly ten seconds ta Goddamn unfuck yerself before I paste ya ta the bulkhead with my fist. My name ain't "Sarge," or "boss," or "buddy." I am Sarn't ta ya asshole."

Stone inched forward slightly and stuck his finger into the Marine's chest. "The firs' or last, it don't matter ta me which, words that come outta yer filthy whore mouth better be "Sarn't" or I swear ta sweet baby jumpin' Jehova Jesus I will drag ya ta the nearest airlock 'n WATCH YER DUMBASS SUFFOCATE IN VACUUM!"

The rage had boiled over, and was now spilling out onto the plate. Stone's cold, grey eyes were that much colder now than before, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs. "I'VE BEEN FIGHTIN' SINCE 'FER YER MOMMA POPPED YA OFF HER TITTY. I RATE A GODDAMN "YES SARN'T" WHEN I TALK TA YA, BOOT. DON'T YA EVER CONDESCEND ME ASSHAT! YA MIGHT NOT HAVE WANTED TA BE HERE, BUT YER HERE, 'N I'MMA BE THE ONE TA TEACH YER STUPID BOOT ASS HOW TA SURVIVE 'N FIGHT LIKE A REAL MARINE. DO YA UNDERSTAND, LANCE CORP'RAL EDWARDS?"

The NCO looked down and noticed he had grabbed the scruff of Edward's collar without realizing it. He held his grip for a moment longer, not taking his eyes off the insubordinate Marine, before finally releasing his grip. Stone turned to the others, staring at them with mean eyes. "Anyone else have somethin' retarded ta say?"

[Killinger, J.]

John smiled genuinely for a moment as the display in front of the two officers continued to reveal itself. In a way, Killinger actually felt sorry for Stone. He'd never show it because the NCO probably wouldn't appreciate a petty applause but this new Lance Corporal was giving him a hard time. John hadn't been with the unit long, as previously established, so he was unaware if the Sergeant had dealt with this type of indiscipline before.

"Well my boots are pretty interesting, but I'd like to see how far Stone could get his pair up that Lance Corporal's rear." John joked briefly with a sincere chuckle. "I'm pretty sure Stone is thinking the exact same thing right now."

While not confirmed, John had a pretty good idea that Stone was thinking something, especially when the threat came out. The smirk on John's face disappeared as he heard the words come out of the NCO's mouth and his eyebrows pinched a little. The veteran officer didn't approve of death threats but didn't intend to stop a Sergeant. No point trying to stop a freight train when all you had was a truck to stop it with, besides it probably wasn't a good idea to interfere regardless. The whole god damn hanger was watching at this point.

"Do what you have to do, Captain." John replied as the younger officer requested to leave. "Like I said, if I were in Durant's shoes, I'd be looking for some advice. Perhaps he actually needs it, or not, but I understand your intent. Best of luck; I'll be around if you or anyone else needs me."

[Winters, R.]

Raven listened with a half and ear to what everybody else said. She however grew surprised when she heard that they will be hitting the Cryo pods, later today. She was confused as to what it actually meant? Training or punishment... or being shipped off to an actual combat location finally. She had mixed feeling about it. She was eager to fight already, but after so so long or waiting to actually engage the Convenant actually scared her. What if she would mess up and get killed on her first mission. She was afraid of having that happen as that would end her family legacy, it would mean she had to endure all those hardships over the years... all in vain. Or what if she would become injured,, that would mean the same thing... everything she has done so far to have gotten here, would be shot back to hell. 
Armory... yes, she had a few powerful weapons and bits of amor, even better then the 'normal' armor and weapons but it actually all came down to one single thing: Her skills... and her brains. Without those two, one was pretty much a waste of space during a fight. Her thoughts where interrupted by a person loud yelling. She was forced out of her thoughts and back into the present. One of the other people was leaning against the wall with Stone, yelling at him. Raven raised a bow and frowned. 'Seriously... what is that idiot even thinking over here?' She thought after a long second of looking at the scene she looked ahead again. It was not her business. 
After a few long seconds however, Stone started screaming at the very undiciplined Marine. This made Raven jump somewhat and turned her shot her head to the side to glare at the scene again. She made an angry face when she head the death threats and involontarily, her mind was filled with several past memories. Memories of herself... also doing such a thing, not one time. It was a sick thing and a terrible ways to die... but some people deserved it. People like mass murderers, rapers, drug lords. And here they where... with Stone making DEATH threats to another marine... one of there own... like to another member of a  large family. They where both on the same side... so Raven found Stone to be WAY too harsh here. But Stone was also pretty much in control of his anger... Raven by now, would probably had beathen anybody else to a bloody pulp if she would be this angry. For this amount of control, she gave Stone a bit more credit. 
She also barked out. "Oorah!", making her smirk gently. 
 

[Chambers, T.]

It was like watching something so terrible, so horrible you couldn't look away, This Lance Corporal didn't seem to have a care in the world at all, That was what seemed to be getting on Sergeant Stone's nerves, however the lack of respect for both the Sergeant himself and Lieutenant Durant, it was an 'accident' waiting to happen. It was when the threat of being shoved out an airlock came out of the older Marines mouth that Tom was perhaps not as shocked as some of the others, he'd seen a marine pushed into an airlock and the control panel roughly destroyed by a Marine NCO on the ship he had been on before he'd joined the Corp. Tom was pretty sure Stone had the stones to backup what he said.

The Sergeant seemed to have almost gone off the rails dressing down the POG, however the idiot who had decided to step out of formation wasn't dead or being beaten so for now the Sergeant had it under control even if the Lance Corporal's Collar was in his hands. Stone looked back at them and Chambers looked forward as fast as he could before replying along with the others. "Anyone else have somethin' retarded ta say?" The Sergeant finished. "No Sergeant" Replied before listening in on the lieutenant.

Now they were soon, hopefully maybe minus a certain someone going to go to armory, get their assigned weapons and billets, go visit the sickbay and have a check up. Even he hated Navy Corpsman the prodding and drawing of blood, 'maybe they got off on that sort of thing' he had always thought. Once all that was over it was time to get settled into berths before getting frozen, he'd always liked the freezers more than most marines, getting paid to sleep, Cryo was the best detail going around.

The Lieutenant finished off with the usual. "Oorah?" Tom replied with all the others. "Oorah!" Now it was off to follow the titanium plate road.

[Mihaylov, D.]

It was all Dmitrii could do to keep from laughing. Doubled over, full on, belly laughing. Whoever this new guy was had a lot to learn. The fact that the term POG was being thrown around told him that he was a transfer of some kind. He was either batshit crazy or just very uneducated about how it worked on this side. More than likely the latter. Dmitrii had known enough lifers like Stone to know that the Sergeant's threats were not all bluster. Combat for that long changed people. He was sure Sergeant Stone's CSV would read like fiction. Beautiful, wartime, fiction.

"Poorly chosen," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Boy needs hard lesson about chain of command."

Dmitrii only half listened to the Lieutenant's brief. He had heard them before and knew the drill. Armory, medical, billets, paperwork, and more paperwork. He chuckled to himself at the idea of all of those forms actually being paper. Paper was something of a long gone era, though the colloquialism still had stayed. Paperwork was the bane of every marine, and he could only imagine it was double for the officers. Every form he had electronically signed or filled with his DNA match and thumbprint had once been done manually, with a pen. It was a wonder the military of that bygone era had ever done anything but paperwork.

"Oorah," Dmitrii said, half heartedly, with the group so it didn't stand out. He would follow the herd and get his inprocessing done, but his thoughts returned to Lance Corporal Edwards. He wasn't going to make it in his current state. Dmitrii was all about staying loose and having a good time, but that wasn't a good time. That was lunacy and disrespect. Lifers had forgotten long ago about how to enjoy life and if Edwards didn't know that yet, he certainly knew now. Dmitrii could only pray the Lance knew enough to call it quits.

He also prayed he ended up as far away from the man as possible. Being anywhere close would bring trouble.

[Durant, M.]

Durant should have known from the moment Sergeant Stone had intercepted Lance Corporal Edwards that the entire point of their formation would be derailed. The man was like the wrecking ball of discipline within the platoon. None crossed him if they were wise and most Marines tried to give him a wide berth when in his presence. Stone was not an NCO to be trifled with.

The Lieutenant sighed as he shook his head. He knew this all could have been avoided had Lance Corporal Edwards been doing what he was supposed to. Hell, things could have gotten back on track had he smartly corrected himself and carried on. However, that had not been the case, as Lance Corporal Edwards had thought it prudent to be a wise ass to the two hundred pound NCO with fire in his eyes.

In retrospect, that had been a very ill advised decision.

Durant turned and looked over at Captain Flannigan, whom appeared to be on his way back over from talking with the Major. He sighed in relief at the sight of the returning company commander. Perhaps he would know how to handle the situation that was unfolding before all their eyes.

When Flannigan was within earshot, he said just loud enough for the Irishman to hear, "How do I handle this, sir?"

[Flannigan, S.]

"Yeah," Flannigan said with a sigh. "Looks like I have a force of nature to go contend with. Thank you for the time Major. Good luck with the unload and let me know if you're in need of anything from Oscar."

He made steady progress across the hanger, closing in on Second Platoon and the irate sounding Sergeant Stone. From the looks of it, the NCO was in the right, though barking death threats in front of God and the world was not always advisable. There were enough unscrupulous marines who might take advantage of that. Not likely with Stone, but still, one could never be too careful. He had heard of more than a few NCO's who had lost their stripes from an altercation like this that was used by a third party to exact their revenge. And Oscar was always ripe for revenge.

Durant's quiet plea was not unfounded, given the odd and undesirable spot the new Lieutenant found himself in. Flannigan was slightly disappointed that the butterbar didn't contend with it all better, but he was happy to help. It was what he was down here for. Handling NCO's was always delicate work, and even more so when their pride was hurt. The fact that Sergeant Stone was in the right with his correction, but perhaps not with his methods, made this situation all the more difficult. Perhaps it wasn't something a boot-tenant would be prepared to deal with. Politics, the bane of officers everywhere.

"While Sergeant Stone finishes his corrections with Lance Corporal Edwards," Flannigan called, gathering the attention of the marines, "We'll move off to start this in processing. Sergeant Stone, once Lance Corporal Edwards has corrected his attitude and military bearing, see to it he gets caught up with the group. We don't have a week to get this done, so don't take forever Sergeant. Get your gear and let's move people."

Flannigan nodded to Durant and started towards the armory, letting the Lieutenant fall in at his left as they set a quick pace for the gear laden marines that were falling in behind them. Flannigan kept his voice low so the others wouldn't hear, giving his advice and correction to the Lieutenant while they moved along.

"Tight spot back there. Never cross an NCO if you want their support, but make sure you are still in command. I made it very clear that I allowed Sergeant Stone to carry on with his tirade, backing the NCO while limiting him by the mission. Hopefully it sets the tone for the rest of them, but it still keeps us on track. The art of being in charge without micro managing. It's always a delicate balance, but keep those two things in mind. In charge, but don't cross your NCOs. That's how officers like Killinger get roughed up by disgruntled Sergeants."

[Edward, Z.]

Edwards sighed and nodded "Yes Sargent." Stone looked like he meant business when he threaten to throw him in the airlock.

That made him think for the short time while he was on the ship, The Fighting Phoenix. That was the first time he experienced sudden pressure of the vacuum of space. That pushed him further into his memories of running to the hangers to were pelican pilots were positioned. A small squad of marines were just feet behind him as he entered the hanger. The marines never entered when the ship started pulling itself apart. The bulkhead doors slammed shut, as for the moment the hanger was safe for the time being. (Those memories were never going to go away.)

Edwards came back to the world of the living when the Sargent grabbed him by his shirt. It was easy to tell how pissed off this Sargent was by the amount of blood veins showing in his face. Edwards was starting to get impatient, but he was still trying to hold his cool. Being away from the military for a couple of years, he did a data dump on almost everything he learned. Deep down he still was trying to figure out what he did wrong, or was he being singled out because he was a Pog, he didn't think he would ever get that answer.

He smiled a little when he saw a group of men with the same type of Engineering jackets like the one he wore. 'About time they arrived to take this dam case away.' Edwards thought to himself as the Sargent continued to rant on. 'Soon I'll have this stuff off my hands.'

[Chambers, T.]

It was still hard not to watch the stare Sergeant Stone was giving the insubordinate Lance Corporal was probably melting a hole in the Titanium plating behind him, soon they'd risk a depressurisation, in a few senses of the word.

One of the other marines whispered or thought something aloud he missed the first part but got the second. "Boy needs hard lesson about chain of command." It was hard not to smirk at the comment. "Probably soon to include more chains..." He replied lowly.

Their new CO seemed to have made him way over over the course of the display. Looking towards the two officer it was clear the Lieutenant was trying to converse privately with the Captain. Way above his pay grade most likely.

"While Sergeant Stone finishes his corrections with Lance Corporal Edwards, We'll move off to start this in processing. Sergeant Stone, once Lance Corporal Edwards has corrected his attitude and military bearing, see to it he gets caught up with the group. We don't have a week to get this done, so don't take forever Sergeant. Get your gear and let's move people." There it was the firm reassuring hand of command, often swiftly followed by the boot of justice, however today it was aimed fairly at this Edwards guy.

There were a few nods passed around before they set off for the Armoury, time to get billets and weapons. Tom picked up his gear and fell into the group.

Soon enough they made their first stop. He gave his name and service number, got given a datapad to thumb print which his weapons and billet, Automatic Rifleman, Second Fireteam, First squad. 'Great, I'm the gunner, must think I can't shoot straight.' he thought doing his best to memorise the numbers on his weapons he gave up, they'd be in a file somewhere most likely, he focused on the first and last parts, it was going to have to work for him.

"Now we go visit those vampires in sickbay, must get off on the stuff." he half asked, half stated.

[Torngate, D.]

Torngate fell in line when he was supposed to, following. He was excited to see what billet he would receive. He had spent time memorizing the deck plans of the ship, and so knew his way around well enough. He risked a glance behind him to look at the Sargent and Lace having a... discussion. He decided to look back forward and pay it no more mind.

He entered the armory, looking around at all the weapons locked up. He had only seen this many weapons once, and that was during his in-processing at his last posting. There had been very much less firepower there but there was still some. He was given his stuff, and programmed in his biometrics. He was a fireteam rifleman, assigned to the first squad, third team. He committed the serial numbers of his weapons to memory, more than a little annoyed that he couldn't have his pistol with him.

He then picked up his seabags again, slung them over his shoulder, and followed the others.

[Mihaylov, D.]

Dmitrii fell in line as the Captain and Lieutenant led them down the corridors towards the armory. He wasn't sure if anyone else had caught the fact that the Lieutenant was green. He had been almost as caught off guard by the Sergeant's tirade as Lance Corporal Edwards. It had taken the Captain stepping back in to get things on track. While that normally made things easier for a guy like Mikhaylov, it was still dependent on the NCOs, and from the looks of it, they were ball busters through and through. He wasn't looking forward to learning his way through that and trying to get himself into the underground.

With his seabags slung over his shoulders, Mihaylov sauntered down to the Armory, neatly stacking his gear against the wall without instruction as he waited for the line to speak to the armorer. He already knew his job, even if not his billet. Designated marksmen were not snipers by any stretch, but some extra optics and a bit more trigger time certainly made him a crack shot. He could almost feel the weapon, even if it wasn't exactly his yet. He had a broad grin on his face as he finally stepped up to the cage. The Corporal there glowered at him as Dmitrii thumb printed the tablet he was handed.

"What are you grinning about Lance Corporal," the NCO nearly spit across the cage in front of them. Apparently he was as friendly as most supply personel.

"Envious of job Corporal," Mihaylov said, not losing his grin. "You have guns around you all day. How much practice it take to keep frown in place while here?"

The Corporal's expression soured even further, but he finally softened a bit when Dmitrii didn't change. He finally rolled his eye and pointed Dmitrii towards the cradle that had his weapon locked in it. His thumbprint was now keyed to the lock, and he quickly removed the weapon, writing down his serial number on his neural lace notepad. He also pulled up his optics settings, quickly calibrating the weapon to his own needs. Satisfied he put it back.

"Best looking women are vampires," he retorted to the Private next to him. "Just think of pretty face while they steal soul."

[Stone, T.]

Stone glared harshly upon the undisciplined Marine before him intently, his grey eyes locked with Edward's own bright hues. He wanted to pulverize the Marine for his smartass attitude and total lack of respect for authority and Marine customs. The bastard had broken formation to lean against a wall when meeting his new unit.

Beyond the gross dereliction of good order and discipline, what kind of idiot casually leaned against a wall when meeting their commanding officer for the first time? Did first impressions mean nothing to the bastard? Edwards had been so casual about it that it gave Stone the impression that it was a natural reaction; as if his previous unit hardly enforced rules and regs. While Stone was not exactly a stickler for the rules -- Hell, no one in Oscar Company are -- but there were some rules that weren't meant to be bent or broken. This was one of those instances.

Shaking his head, he inched forward a bit as the Lance Corporal finally seemed to learn his place within the totem pole. "Yes, Sergeant!" Edwards said. Thomas chuckled and shook his head. "Are ya mockin' me, son?" he inquired.

He waited half a second before cutting the Lance Corporal off. "HUH? ARE YA? LANCE CORP'RAL EDWARDS! I swear I oughta throat punch ya right now, but I won't. Ya know why? I'll tell ya, son, 'n I'mma tell ya good. I ain't gonna punch ya 'cuz yer ass is mine. MINE! Ya belong ta me now, shitbird. Thirsty First is my domain, my AO. 'N yer in it, now, fucker."

The voice of Captain Flannigan beckoned his attention. Stone listened, though he did not break eye contact with Lance Corporal Edwards as he did so. When the Captain was finished, he smiled evilly and nodded. "Aye, sir," he responded. "We jus' came ta an understandin'. We're finished."

As he turned around he noticed two Navy crewman approach wearing the grey jumpsuits of engineering. They came and relieved Edwards of the briefcase he'd been carrying the whole time. Stone shrugged and resided to follow Lieutenant Durant out of the hangar. He looked back just before he passed through the door. "EDWARDS," he bellowed, "GIT'CHER STUPID ASS OVER HERE. YA AIN'T EXCLUDED FROM THE ACTIVITIES!"

[O'Reilly, C.]

'O'Reilly had been one of the talkative ones on the flight to the UNSC Vengeance. She made it a habit to get to know her fellow Marines, holding fast to the belief that getting to know your fellow Marines would lead to being a more effective teams. It led to understanding your allies' strengths, as well as their shortcomings. When one of the pelicans carrying her and the other transfers landed, she was one of the first out.

She fell in at who she assumed was the CO's order. From there, he put them at ease, and begun what seemed to be a routine introduction. Up until the point where they were informed that they'd be entering the freezers. Whatever happened to cause this must have been bad. When he passed the proverbial microphone to the XO, they got an informing idea of what to pack on missions. She nodded solemnly at the toilet paper remark. She'd been there before- it wasn't pretty. She made a mental note to pack extra ammo, though. That would be important.

After that, a group of Marines were called over to one particularly interesting looking Sergeant. Then, she saw something so absurdly stupid, she had to make a double take. Some asshole thought he was better than regulation and had broken off from the group, right in front of the Sergeant, to go lean against the was. She felt sorry for the bastard. And then she saw the Sergeant snap his attention to the man, and felt extra sorry. The Sergeant tore into him, ripping him a new one. She thought it was over then, but then the man gave the Sergeant lip, and any sympathy she had for him evaporated. That was just plain dumb.

The Sergeant got so angry, she could see his veins bulging as he threatened at the Marine. Her attention was brought back to the front of the unit, and she let out an 'Oorah' with the rest of the unit. This would be interesting, to say the least.