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Small Beginnings
Topic Started: Jun 18 2014, 03:32 AM (1,180 Views)
Narrator
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Reaper of Player Characters
[ *  * ]
Time accumulates and consumes human civilization like the sands of a vast and terrible desert. Even the proudest of our achievement are hidden- invisible and indistinguishable to the wayward traveler. Perhaps the stars above, in their apparent perpetuity, will remember us. But even they are fated to vanish one day. In a universe bound by causality, nothing lasts forever- not even the hard earned peace every desired.

March 2nd of 87th year of the Universal Century calendar. For historians, this date marked the beginning of a turbulent period known as the Gryps Conflict. It was an attritional war between two belligerents: The Anti-Earth Union Group and the Titans.

The Anti-Earth Union Group, an anti-terrestrial organization formed in late 0085, began organizing a formal military in wake of the 30 Bunch Incident. Its founders capitalized on the discontent within the Earth Federation and the subjugation of the colonies. In the name of justice and sovereignty, they became the opposition.

For the AEUG's Sixth Replenishment Squadron stationed on the Geronimo, it was another day. The ship's deck crew were busy prepping their GM Rechts for a subsequent round of hard training sorties. The snipes were down below tending to the Minovsky reactor, and the bridge crew was keeping them off the rocks - something a little more tricky than usual in the Shoal Zone- with all the debris.

However, the pilots of the group were charged. There had been rumors for almost a week now that they were approaching 'ready' status, and it seemed the rumors were true: today was the day that they'd be getting a formal evaluation by a combat pilot in one of the other units. While their trainer, Eddy LeNoire, and most of the pilots had seen action before in the One Year War, there were several who hadn't - Petrenko and Finley. All of them were charged, ready for action, ready to show this 'Lieutenant Steiner' that she should pick them for the slot on the cruiser she was recruiting for.
Edited by Sovereign, Jun 18 2014, 06:07 AM.
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Redshirt
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Ensign Expendable
[ *  *  * ]
An incessant, insistent buzzing roused Chuck from his sleep far earlier than he would've preferred. Ungh... 0800 already... come on... he thought, slapping the snooze button. His eyes squinted behind the weight of a potent hangover, the empty pint of whiskey he'd finished the previous night still floating around his quarters. Come on... why do we have to start so early... he wondered. Sliding out of his bunk, he slipped into his duty coveralls, pausing to pound a bottle of water and a handful of aspirin as his first considered action.

Head still throbbing, he splashed cold water over his face. Yeah, that was one too many last night. Not quite fit to fly like this... we'll see how early high and mighty LeNoire wants to go skids up... he thought, quietly reaching under his sink and grabbing a small vial. Slipping that into his pocket, he stared back at the bloodshot eyes in the mirror. I look like hell. Wonder if I should shave... eh, fuckit he figured, splashing another handful of cold water onto his face. Is this damned training ever going to finish? I figured we'd be going after the damned Titans right out of the gate he lamented. Drying off his face, he slipped on an oversized pair of aviator sunglasses - why do they have to keep the lights so damned bright all the time? Ruins a perfectly good hangover... he thought, taking enough mouthwash to get the stench of cheap whiskey off his breath. With that, he stumbled his way towards the mess hall.

Slipping in to the place, Chuck grabbed a tray and loaded it with as much grease as he could get - bacon, eggs, sausages, and a pile of hash browns, along with what little fresh fruit was on the Geronimo. He followed that up with enough coffee to kill a small child and slipped into a quiet table at the corner of the room, back to the group as he attacked his breakfast in the wake of...frak it, who cares how many nights in a row of hard drinking

==Approach the resident drunk if you dare!!==
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ZGMF-X28A Nu-Liberty
Nugget
[ *  *  * ]
Date: March 2nd, UC 0087
Time: 0800 hours
Location: Bordering Thunderbolt Sector, former Side 4 airspace, LaGrange Point 5

The sounds of soft snoring coming from the sole occupant of the rather comfortable bed jutting out of the wall at the far left end of the CAG’s quarters. But in an instant, Eddy LeNoire’s peaceful sleep was interrupted by the music he’d programmed into the alarm clock at his desk. His eyes slowly opened as his ears started to pick up on the lyrics. Can't beat the classics...

Nearly leaping out of bed as he tossed the covers aside, Eddy walked over to the desk and turned off his alarm clock, putting an end to Greenbaum for now. "Big day today." He rasped as he walked over to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later...

As Eddy stared his still-youthful visage in the mirror, brushing his teeth that still reeked of morning, he could still feel the steam in the air from his shower. It didn't matter to him whether it was war or peacetime, a nice refreshing shower was always appreciated. Quickly finishing up, he walked out of the head and put on his sleeveless uniform shirt, taking a look through the window to observe the area of space they were about to enter.

He knew some of his charges would be a little pissed off about flying in such a dangerous area, but Eddy knew the Thunderbolt Sector would provide a perfect example of adapting to a hazardous environment, as well as using the environment to your advantage. Nothing like flying through an electrified shoal zone to wake you up proper... Plus, he was sure Petrenko and Roy might like hearing the tall tales of how Zeon's Living Dead Division operated here during the One Year War.

Norman's probably laughing at the irony of my situation right now, the old bastard... Eddy chuckled at reminding himself of the fact that of the class he was currently training, he had four ex-Zekes and one civvie, including his deputy. But he brushed off the stark difference in the company he kept from the "good old days" as easily as he slipped on his signature Teashades, the color of their reflective lenses complimenting the purple color of his uniform.

With one final stretch of his arms and legs, Eddy stepped out of his quarters and began walking down to the mess hall. As he began the quiet stroll, his mind was already breaking down today's agenda. Breakfast, check up on the deck crew, welcome our special guest, assemble the pilots, briefing on today's exercises, skids off the flight deck... Arriving in the mess hall just as he finished, Eddy noticed Finley had beaten him there.

Great, the last person I wanted to see first thing in the morning. Without so much as an acknowledgement of the man that had given him so much grief for these past few weeks, Eddy grabbed a tray and saw that Gaff was already working overtime with his staff to get enough breakfast going for the crew of the Geronimo. "Morning, Gaff. How'd you sleep, pal?"

"As well as could be expected, patron. And you?" Eddy quickly grabbed a small plateful of scrambled eggs with extra salt and pepper, a cup or two of ketchup, three hash browns and an apple for good measure. "Pretty good. We got a big day today, isn't that right, Finley?" He loudly spoke in Chuck's direction before heading over to the soda machine and grabbing a Baja Blast Dew to round out his meal.

Walking over to a table relatively close to the entrance, Eddy sat down and began digging in.
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VTyphoon
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Cadet
[ *  * ]
Ever a morning person, Roy had awoken an hour before his alarm threatened to force the issue. Using the extra time to soak in the shower a while, he slipped into his uniform, and took a good long look in the mirror before heading out.

'I'll see you right back here tomorrow, Mr. Theodore.' It was a tad morbid a ritual, but one he performed every morning all the same. After a good seven years out of action, whatever had gotten him through Solomon and A Baoa Qu might have worn off. He could afford himself one or two superstitions, surely.

As he strode along toward the Mess Hall, his thoughts settled into place. It still felt a little strange, being back in the pilot's life, but at least it was on his own terms. He bore no ill will towards any of the former "Feddies" among his comrades, and no particular attachment to any fellow Zeon veterans by contrast. Overall, it was a fresh start, one he felt confident about, despite his need to stroke his beard for luck every minute or so. Sometimes he wondered if that was the only reason he grew the damn thing.

Having not acquainted himself with the Geromino's crew as well as some of the others, he offered only polite nods as he made his way around the room. For such a tall fellow, he needed little to start him off for the day, settling on a simple combo of scrambled eggs and beans, with just a dash of seasonings. Water would be enough to round it out, if he touched a drop of caffeine he was liable to start twitching all over the place.

'Good morning.' After a perfunctory scan, he settled on a place opposite Eddy. Quiet as he'd been since joining up with AEUG, he wanted to put a little more effort into getting to know the people he'd be flying with. He'd noticed Chuck in his own private corner, but sensed that he'd rather go undisturbed.
Edited by VTyphoon, Jun 18 2014, 05:35 AM.
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Blaze
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Nugget
[ *  *  * ]
As he had been, and still considered himself to be active duty, Fred had not allowed the "bad habits" of his fellow pilots to influence him, and because of this, he'd been up since five a.m. like normal. Now that he was with the A.E.U.G. instead of the Federation, he wasn't going to be that one guy and sleep in, sure he didn't have as much to do as he had while in the army, space pilots didn't even do much maintenance on their machines, but on Earth you had to know that since you didn't go back to base every day. In the field, you had to know how your machine worked and how to keep it working.

Regardless, he was used to getting up early and it was a good time for a workout. Most of his workout took him an hour and a half to complete, but for the last half hour, in the absence of an area to run like there would be at a base, Fred used the treadmill instead. He hated running in place like that, but it wasn't too bad, it was probably more that he didn't like working out inside like this. He was used to working out regardless of the weather, but up here if you went outside, you died. It was simple, and yet he was still getting used to being in space, for someone who spent most of his life on Earth, it took some time to get around in space properly.

After his workout, Fred had taken a quick shower and finding himself with some time to kill before most of the others had to be up, Fred had gone back to his quarters and started reading up on the GM Rechts again, he knew it all but a review never hurt, plus he had nothing better to do. He liked the machine, but then he had liked every other GM he had used as well. The main advantage of this machine, besides the basic overall performance increases, were the beam weapons.

They were more powerful than those from the war, and could be reloaded, the old beam spray gun for the C Types was stuck at sixteen shots per sortie. They still had the same issues though, as they'd had drilled into them these things overpenetrated just about anything, plus the risk of an exploding reactor wasn't going to make him eager to use them in close range. The updated cockpits were nice as well, but that could be done to the older GMs just as easily, which for all he knew could have been done.

After a while Fred made his way to the mess to grab something to eat, and some coffee as well, he was still not used to the "proper" food you got on a ship, this was what rear line pricks ate, and that knowledge didn't sit well with him. Compared to what he was used to, he felt like he was being pampered with all the stuff he got on a ship. But he wasn't gonna complain, it was good food plus his life was easier, he just needed to get used to having leisure time. Once at the mess, Fred got himself toast, scrambled eggs, ham, and cheese to make a couple sandwiches, and a cup of coffee.

He then looked around and saw some people he knew, their all knowing "teacher", with one of the fucking Zeeks next to him, Ron. "Fucking kiss ass." He'd muttered to himself after seeing the Zeon pilot, before continuing to look and seeing Chuck, he was a civvie but that beat a Zeek any day. So obviously Fred went and sat across from Chuck, the guy was wearing sunglasses inside the ship, and Fred had seen enough hangovers to know what was up with him.

He didn't say anything to the other man at first, getting his eggs and ham into the toast to make those sandwiches and drinking some of his coffee. Fred then looked at the other man, "Morning Chuck. You look like you're ready for some sun." he said to the other pilot.
Edited by Blaze, Jun 19 2014, 12:36 AM.
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ZGMF-X28A Nu-Liberty
Nugget
[ *  *  * ]
As Eddy finished cutting up his plate of scrambled eggs into a more manageable pile of smaller pieces, he quietly observed as first Theodore, then Castle walked into the mess hall. Pouring one of his cups of ketchup on the plate and mixing it with his meal to give it a little more "kick", he briefly reflected on how each of the two had improved up to this point. Castle barely needed any re-training, just how to adapt to fighting in zero-g. Roy needed a bit more work, but he's become a hell of a marksman.

For them, along with everyone else in the squadron, it was the big day. A pilot representing one of the major battle groups in the AEUG was coming today for a formal evaluation of their capabilities. If they performed well enough, then everyone would be kicked to "full active" status and formally assigned to combat duty. One class walks out and another walks in. For Eddy, this part had become almost blandly routine by now.

Of course, he was also used to kicking troublemakers to other replenishment squadrons or just kicking them out entirely. Each of them had their reasons and some were understandble, even sympathetic. Others were just out-and-out failures or endangered better pilots. If he didn't pull a miracle out of his ass today, Finley would be the unlucky one. He has talent, he just can't pull his head out of the bottle...

Munching on a forkful of ketchup-smeared scrambled eggs with a bite of hash browns and a sip of Baja Blast for good measure, Eddy quickly found himself joined by Roy with a polite greeting. "Good morning, Roy. I hope you slept well. Today's not the day to slack off." He said with something of a mischievous grin on his face, looking over at Finley before continuing. "You familiar at all with the Thunderbolt Sector, Roy?"
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Kagezuchi
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Nugget
[ *  *  * ]
By five, Marika was up and bouncing around the Geronimo, quite literally as she ran what she considered space familiarization drills. She was drilling it into her soul how to handle herself in a low gravity environment like this, her time with Anaheim taught her enough to be competent but she wanted to be more than just that. It was also a way for her to keep the ship’s layout fresh in mind, not that one really needed to think that hard to remember where things were in this ship. So for little under a hour Marika was floating, walking or hurrying down hallways. Afterwords a quick trip to the gym finished off her physical exercise, then only with a quick shower Marika was off, a quick trip to the hanger out of habit but she wasn’t needed there so she only stayed enough to see things were normal if busy before heading back to her room to sort through some messages. There was nothing new but rereading them did bring a smile to her face.

Soon enough however she felt she’d stoked up enough warm memories and changed into some shorts and tossed on a olive drab shirt she grabbed from somewhere. She only paused to fix her ponytail and the blonde was off again, this time to grab some chow. The food was damn good here and Marika wasn’t going to miss it being served hot, another reason why she did her little drills was to keep in mind any congestion in the ship and where she could move the fastest. Even with her efforts, she found she’d taken too much time looking over her messages and was a bit late then normal.

Still the food was hot and Marika wasted no time to get some eggs and whatever meat she could scrounge up which happened to be some bacon, some toast and some juice to drink. Finding a place to sit proved interesting though, Chuck and Fred were sitting together while Eddy and Roy seemed to have gravitated towards each other. Odd grouping but whatever, she wasn’t too comfortable being around LeNoire in a casual setting given his leadership position and despite whatever more questions she could possibly hound from Roy tempting her over there Marika moved towards the other populated table with both Chuck and Fred and plopped herself down to the side of Chuck and on the opposite side of Fred for the sake of being polite and dug into her food with little ceremony.
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VTyphoon
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Cadet
[ *  * ]
'Wouldn't dream of it...' Roy returned Eddy's grin, allowing himself to relax in the presence of the man who had brought his skills back from near-atrophy, and pushed them even further than before. '...Especially now I'm used to those new-fangled cockpits that are all the rage nowadays.' Despite having lived in space all his life, Roy's first experience of a panoramic display had been nothing short of nauseating, his sense of spatial awareness finding itself hard pressed to adapt to being immersed in vacuum from the comfort of his own Mobile Suit.

I'm certainly not gonna miss the urge to vomit, that's for sure.
Fortunately, with the help of the man opposite him, it had done so in time, allowing Roy's other senses to sharpen until he'd found himself taking to sharpshooting with more skill and enthusiasm than he ever had in his scant few sorties in a Rick Dom. Then again, his induction into the Zeon military wasn't much more than a tour of the cockpit followed by a sharp boot out the door...

'I'm afraid not. Solomon's pretty much the only slice of space I've seen much of outside of L2.' Taking a quick bite of scrambled egg, Roy shook his head before looking back at Eddy. 'All I know is it's not exactly the most accommodating place out here, by a longshot.'
Edited by VTyphoon, Jun 18 2014, 08:36 PM.
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Redshirt
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Ensign Expendable
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Chuck gave the barest of nods to Fred, wincing under his sunglasses as he took a swig of coffee.. Yeah, definitely one too many last night. Gonna need a little clarity before I can fly today... he thought, thankful he'd grabbed the vial out from his sink. Just leave me alone... he wished.

At Fred's comment about his sunglasses, he shrugged. "Something like that..." he said, managing not to slur his words. He dug into his hash browns as Petrekno sat down next to him. "Kid" he said to the much younger pilot. What's she doing here anyway? I swear I could have a daughter almost her age... he figured. And she's a Zeke. That's two Feddies and three Zekes, plus me. One small, unhappy, dysfunctional family... he thought, remembering the look Castle usually reserved for the former Zekes in their group.

Might as well be social, if they're gonna insist he figured. Chuck rubbed one of his temples with his right hand as he asked the question to the group. "Any idea when this big deal pilot from one of the operational teams is gonna show up? Rumors are everywhere... " he asked, again taking care not to slur his words.
Edited by Redshirt, Jun 19 2014, 03:23 AM.
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Blaze
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Nugget
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Chuck didn't seem all that talkative, but that made sense consider what he was dealing with. Fred was surprised that he'd done more tham simply grunt at him in response, before responding he decided to take a bite of one of the sandwiches, but by the time he could say anything else to Chuck, that Markia girl had sat down on Chuck's side of the table.

She was a borderline Zeek, better than an actual Zeek but it still felt like another one, she at least didn't go around screaming about the glory of Zeon. To him it felt like the Zeeks were butting into Federation business, civilians like Chuck were understandable, but these Zeeks had no right being here as far as Fred was concerned.

Regardless, he simply nodded at the girl, before Chuck asked about the pilot that was supposed to be here today. "Afraid not, you're probably better off asking him." he says while pointing over at LeNoire. "I'm sure he has more information than we do. I just wonder how things will go today." Fred then looked at Markia, "What about you Petrekno? Have you heard anything?"
Edited by Blaze, Jun 19 2014, 03:55 PM.
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