Mech RP [Ch. 1] The Hand of the Empire

"I've been up for far too longer grease monkey." She commented with a bit of a joke. "I could sleep at the firing range and probably not notice."

He was about to say something in response for the grease monkey comment.....but hey, he was exactly that. "You're not gonna put that to the test are you?" he inquired.

"Depends where I next pass out from exhaustion." She responded, though since Sigrid now happened to be up she might as well go grab a shower and a hot meal.

"What, no apartment in the city or space in the barracks?" Nathan asked.

"No and haven't checked, just found the first quiet spot and shut my eyes." She left out the fact that for much of the retreat from Opportunity she had either being running, walking or diving into the ground to avoid being brutally killed. All exhausting work.

"Heh.......well to be fair, I've got no place to stay either; no home to speak of in Sojourn," Nathan admitted. "Maybe the barracks will be willing to spare a few beds."

"I doubt it injured are everywhere, just find a spot out of the way and sleep." Her home was gone, Sigrid didn't know if her mother was still alive but her father had been murdered by the Empire.

"Well....if all else fails, I've still got this bad boy to sleep in," Nathan said, gesturing to the frame. "Managed to fix the cooling unit, plus the air conditioning unit built into it. "Could just sleep inside and be nice and cool."

"I fight on foot so no huge death machine for me." It would be difficult to heal the wounded from a war machine.

"Did I say anything about fighting?" Nathan asked. "Just said, the cockpit's a decent place to grab some sleep. And not sweat to death while doing it." Feeling better now, he stood up. "And I still need to get my plasma cutter..."

"Yes well... There is only room for one." She commented. "Well I'll see you later then." It was definitely time for a hot shower, or a cold one, just a shower.

"Yeah, see you later," Nathan called back. Wiping himself down then, he climbed back up for the plasma cutter, no slips this time. Making sure it got stored somewhere safe, he made a break for the bar his coworker told him about, hoping to get her name.

While King had been sitting in the quarters he had called in a few scavenger ranked soldiers. The plans for the coming days would be to send out patrolling units from Sojourner to at the very least Quatro Sienna to scavenge parts from the destroyed Frames they were forced to leave behind. Anything they can bring back with them would aid the Rebels significantly. He makes sure to relay to them to not go near Opportunity and if they stumble across any roaming Imperial Frames, they are to not engage unless they believe they have the capacity to retrieve the Imp Frames. The soldiers would try to ask about the situations earlier, but he dismisses them quickly after telling them to relay this message with the others.

He himself leaves the quarters and makes his way back to Queen to continue work on her.

He found the bar alright--it was the only one nearby. Packed with workers from the hangar, soldiers and pilots, there was a somber silence that hung over the place. Everyone had a glass, filled with some form of alcohol as they gave a toast. "A toast," someone said, "to the friends we lost. May the next life be kinder to them than this one." He didn't bother speaking, not saying a word as he watched them all down their drinks. Spotting his coworker at the bar, he wormed his way through the crowd to reach her. "Hey," he said, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turned to look at who it was, and grinned when she saw him. "Hey yourself there," she replied casually. "Glad you could make it." Shrugging, he said sarcastically "Yeah well I love being left to clean up while someone else grabs a drink." Chuckling, she toyed with her shot glass on the bar's counter. "So....guess I owe you a name?" she said then. Busy ordering a drink for himself, Nathan had just caught the question and said "Yeah. I'll go first if you want--name's Nathan. Nathan Carver." Staring back at him she said "Tasha. Well, Natasha, but I prefer Tasha. Tasha Korolev."

Sigrid left the hanger bay in search of a hot shower, clean change of clothes, some medical supplies and food. On the way she bumped into King, mostly because she was looking around her rather than where she happened to be going. "Sorry." She said hastily as she continued on cheeks reddening.

King is inadvertently bumped into and an apology is is heard afterwards. He wasn't too deep in thought when it happened so his mood didn't drop any. He didn't need to worry about forgetting a crucial piece of information he needed. He replies quickly while looking the one who bumped into him over.

"It is quite all right, Sister. It was merely an accident."

"Well Tasha, glad to have someone I can share a beer with," Nathan said as his drink arrived. Chuckling, she raised her own and said "Gladly." They both clinked glasses and drank. "So, you from Sojourn?" he asked, to which she nodded. "Yup, got a small apartment close by.....well, relatively close. Over in the border section of the city so.....give or take eight blocks from here." Whistling, Nathan said "Quite a walk."

Grinning, she replied "Yeah but gives me plenty of exercise. You should see my legs." Then she realized what she said, blushed for a moment before laughing. "Okay, guess that was too much info," she said. Nathan looked away and said "Yeah....just a bit." Returning to his drink, he could already feel it hitting him. He hadn't had much to drink since getting back to Sojourn, which meant..... "Oh crap," he said under his breath. "What?" Tasha asked. "Uhm....I didn't drink a lot of water today."

"Yeah I'm quite tired, see you around." She smirked at him, then began to continue on finally finding a military structure that offered both a clean uniform and lukewarm showers. It was better than nothing and she could get the dried blood off of her skin at last.

At that, she chortled and said "One drink in and already about to throw in the towel? Find your balls Nathan!" Ignoring her, he said the bartender "Can I get a glass of water?"

King nods as the woman leaves and he continues to make his way to Queen. He can see a few of his brothers and sisters having their hand at her. Pulling in a long night. This is what a real soldier does. No doubt there were others who had decided to leave to take care of their personal matters, but the real place they are needed is in the hangar. Repairs must be done as quickly as possible. He would love to be with his own family as much as the others, but that is not possible in this state of the war. He will make his way back home after he deals with the repairs.

Two glasses of water later, and Nathan was feeling.....a little better, but there was still the all too clear sensation in his head. "You should eat something," Tasha said. "Hey, Mikey, can I get some wings for my friend here?" "You're gonna make me eat?" Nathan asked her, to which she said "Heck yeah, best way to hold your beer down is with a lot of food."

"Can't I just drink myself into a stupor and be done with it?" Nathan groaned, taking another swig of the cheap beer. "Not when I'm around," she teased. She got distracted as her communicator let out a quick succession of beeps. "Huh, work related," she said, grabbing it. She scanned the screen of the handheld device, and actually laughed. "Well Nathan," Tasha said, "guess we don't have to wait for permission. Word came down from on high, we leave tomorrow for salvage runs."

"Hooray," Nathan said. The wings finally arrived, and he began eating. Tasha patted him on the back and said "See ya tomorrow. I'm gonna head home." Looking up, he swallowed before saying "What, you don't wanna share the wings with me?" Grinning a little, she patted his shoulder and said "Sorry Nate, one of us has gotta get some sleep." She left soon after, leaving him at the bar with the wings......but at least he had the promise of seeing her tomorrow.

After a lukewarm shower and a change into a fresh uniform, Sigrid found herself some time to clean her armour during which her communicator buzzed. Apparently she was to be sent back out as part of a recovery team, though she knew her role would be to identify some of the dead, scavenge for medical supplies and if any of the actual recovery team got hurt fix them up. Since they were going probably to try and bring back frames.

King's approach is noted by one of the people working on the repairs and they make their way down quickly. Once down, they begin discussing the work that had been finished. Useless power units were thrown away and any damaged cells are taken out and replaced. It's a large hit to their supply, but they hope to try to salvage any damaged units. Metal plating is soldered over the large slit that was created from the ripper sword and various other areas that were hit hard were given a quick bandaid to heal.

"Very nice work. We will work on the weapon systems at a later time. For now, I want you all to try to get some rest."

A quick exchange of salutes later and after they head headed off, he himself would scale Queen to observe the work that had been done for himself.

Yeah, this will work for now. He glances over at the nub of the arm. Many heads have rolled from that ax. Even more will follow now. Suddenly his body begins to feel several days worth without sleep. It is not uncommon for him to go a few days without proper sleep, but in his aging years it has become more hazardous. In response to this, he climbs down Queen very carefully. Stopping a few times to try to regain himself. Once he's safely on the ground, he collapses next to the leg and falls into dreamland.

The next day started early for Nathan. After the bar, he had decided to sleep in, where else--the Frame. Sleeping in the cockpit with the door closed, it was actually somewhat comfortable, thanks to the cooling unit. He was woken up by several loud knocks on the cockpit door, which he then opened to see who was there. It was none other than Tasha, hefting a large wrench and wearing a smug grin. "Well then, good morning sunshine," she said loudly, to which he groaned.....more due to the bright light invading his eyes than anything else. "Gee, thanks for the wake up call," he mumbled, climbing out of the cockpit on weak limbs. He'd need a minute to stretch out, plus some good old fashioned coffee.....even if it was just sim-coffee.*


*I'm assuming that Earth is no longer trading with Mars, so actual coffee grounds are in short supply and are a luxury, so people use something that simulates the taste and effect of coffee.

He feels a hand on his shoulder pushing him slightly. Not too rough. He wakes with a start and looks at whoever touched him. A mechanic by the looks of it. One of the ones who had been working on Queen the night before. He rubs some sleep from his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose a bit before looking around. Some sunlight beams through the slits of some of the makeshift windows.

"You alright sir? You didn't sleep here all night did ya?" The mechanic says.

He replies with a short nod and makes his way to his feet.

"I appreciate you waking me up, brother. It was terrible of me to try to sleep while others are working. I will... be indisposed for some time. My morning routine, you understand." With that, they exchange salutes and he makes his way off towards designated lavatories to start his day. After which he will go to the mess hall.

Trisha woke up from where she had managed to fall asleep. She had managed to find herself a bed after all, she sat up and slid into her combat boots.
She got up off of her bed and made her way towards the mess hall because food happened to rank top on the medic's list of priorities.

"What kinda friend would I be if I let you sleep the day away?" Tasha teased, giving him space to stretch as he rolled his shoulders. He could feel the subtle pops and cracks of his body as he moved, yawning in his tired state. Stomach grumbling, Nathan figured coffee and food would be a good choice. "You eat yet?" he asked Tasha, who simply smirked and said "Thought you'd never ask. Come on, we'll need to head for the mess hall in the barracks; best way to meet who'll be going with us on the salvage run."

The mess hall slowly begins to fill with the abled-bodied and their noise begin to blanket the air. King grabs his food quickly and finds a table void of human life. It isn't like he doesn't want to sit with his brethren, he just needs to shuffle some things around in his head. Some thoughts needing to be filed away properly. He needs to announce the members of the salvage run and he must also discuss what will happen with the defectors. He chews on these thoughts and his own food in silence.

Irving awoke to the many usual pains of getting older. The cot didn't help at all, and as he rolled out into a standing position many things in his body almost creaked and cracked with effort. He shook himself through it, annoyed at the feelings more than anything else, and quickly checked his communication pad. With a sudden realization he found out that he had moved the meeting from last night to this morning. He quickly sent a message to all officers involved, including Juno, stating it would happen within an hour at the officer's club. He stretched his back after sending the message and ambled off to get some quick food.

The mess hall served what a handful of people optimistically called 'food'. It certainly did not taste or look like any food that Sigrid had consumed or seen in her life so far. She grabbed her tray and selected today's morning method of killing her taste buds off. Sigrid believed that if you could eat a whole serving of this 'food' then ask for a second serving then you should be awarded a medal for gallantry and a section 8 as you were clearly insane.
She found herself a table with a few other medics judging from their uniform, they all appeared to be disinterested in their food, perhaps because of the bland taste but she suspected that recent memories burned into their minds slaughtered their appetites. Sigrid forced herself to eat, her body would need to the calories and the nutrients, even if the food itself tasted terrible. It failed to occupy her mind she is recalled images of the retreat, in spite of that she continued to eat. She needed to if she wanted to survive and continue to help her comrades in arms.

King is brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a little "ping". He reaches instinctively down to his communications pad and reads the message. It appears as though his thoughts managed to somehow pierce Irving's head as the message read something along the lines of figuring out what to do with the defectors. They had meant to do it the night prior, but with all of the commotion already happening, the meeting had to have been moved. With one thought off his head, he continues on his meal. As bland as it tasted, he didn't mind it. He had grown up with food like this.

Nathan and Tasha entered the mess hall behind everyone else, with the former surprised at how packed it was. "Didn't expect this many people," he said. "Think the line'll be long?" Tasha asked, trying to find the line for the food table. There was for now a line of over a dozen people, and upon seeing it the pair bolted for the end of it, lest ten more people pop in.

Naturally, we would need a few medics on the run, mechanics and a few guards. I will discuss with the rest of the officer's on who will be the best. We would need a couple of teams, regardless for the manpower. I will see what I can do for the defectors if they are permitted to stay. Having their weaponry would prove to be very helpful should we run into any other Imperials on the salvage. Queen is still in no shape for battle, so if I come along I'd be running Infantry. It should not be too much of a problem.

As he forms his plan to present to the other officers, he continues eating until he has cleaned what had been given to him.

Sigrid finished torturing her stomach and committing mass genocide on her taste buds. She dumped the rest of her food in the trash before stacking her tray. Sigrid let the mess hall deciding to see if she could stock back up on equipment.

"Are you sure this is food?" Nathan asked Tasha, letting a glob of the mess hall's breakfast drip from his spoon. "That's what they said," Tasha replied, visibly nervous. "Mystery meat....always fun." Taking the first bite, Nathan fought down a shudder that ran down his spine simply from the texture of the food; it was like warm slime that tasted foul going down his throat. The only mercy he had was the sim-coffee, helping wash it all down and terrify his growling stomach into submission. Tasha had a similarly repulsed look on her face, saying "Think this counts as a war-crime?"

Shrugging, Nathan said "Possibly. Cheers." With that, they clinked coffee mugs, and dove back into the hell on their trays.

King looks around for a bit, at all the faces. Many of them putting on a facade of them being fine with everything that had happened on the day prior. He feels their pain. He wishes things were different and he wishes it was one of the Imperial cities that had felled by their hand. He sighs and stands up. He must leave this place lest his mood dips any lower. He must find work to do and he will find that work in ordering parts from the requisition orders that had come in. Hopefully he can go over them all before the meeting comes around. He walks through the sea of bodies and tables.

Irving walks in a few moments later, quickly moving to the coffee machine as quietly as possible. He didn't want to talk to anybody right now as his mind was full of ideas and possibilities, not to mention the wonderous idle sounds in his ears when one gets to be his age. As he filled his mug he pondered if he was still even cut out to be on field duty, if they time would ever come when he would be a liability to his fellow comrades. The old soldier didn't let the thought linger for very long, out of necessity more than anything else.

After they had finished with breakfast, or as Tasha joked shortened their life-spans, the mechanic duo headed back for the hangar. A few other crews were already there, setting up their rigs with equipment and heavy machinery. Sadly, neither Nathan or Tasha were of high enough rank to be in charge of one of the monster rigs, so they had to attach themselves to a crew in order to get a ride.

While they worked on loading the back of the vehicle up, Nathan took a moment to stand and take in the utilitarian vehicle: big, roughly the height of old Earth haul trucks and nearly double in length, they were multipurpose for either mining or transport, depending on the use of the bed. In this case, the rig resembled a twentieth century pickup truck, only with ladders and a small crane used to load in heavy objects. "You know," Nathan said in passing, "sometimes I wonder why we couldn't have just.....armored these things up. Mount weapons on them. And use them as tanks."

"Because they don't have legs?" Tasha said. "One of the advantages of the Frames, Nate. Thought you'd know that, big mechanic and all." Shrugging, he bent his knees as he grabbed onto a heavy box of tools and said "Yeah I know but still, look at the damned thing! Line of those comes rolling in, you know shit's about to go down."

"Yeah, for the drivers...." Tasha muttered.

Sigrid managed to with some difficulty borrow, take, beg, steal and acquire the various medical supplies needed to replenish her own depleted stockpile. With the shortage of supplies one had to resort to almost any measure to ensure that they went into battle with most of the correct equipment.
Even so she still lacked a few supplies, but nothing a scavenger run would not help to fix.

"So, you gonna ride with us," Tasha asked Nathan when they were done packing, "or take your Frame?" With a groan he said "It's not my Frame, for the hundredth time. I'd rather ride with you guys..."

She shrugged her shoulders and said "If you want to fine, but come on we could use the added support; that thing's got manipulator arms on it that can help us out. Plus it wouldn't hurt to have the added guns and armor."

Not entirely decided, Nathan didn't have much of a response. Looking around as he stood near the massive truck, he looked over the others who'd be joining them; mechanics mostly, though he thought he saw a familiar face. Unsure, he stayed rooted to the spot for now, still considering whether to take the Frame or not.

King made it back to the officer's quarters quickly and began working on the orders. What he could approve, he did. It wasn't much and he preferred to wait for the salvage run to complete any other orders. It'd be cheaper on them. He goes over the defector requisition order and nods at it. Sojourner was once an Imp city, and most of the Frames here were Imp Frames. Granted, extremely older models compared to what the Empire has now. They could probably scrounge up some older parts. He goes in and begins approving the order.

He checks the clock and notices the hour is fast approaching, the meeting should start soon.

"Hey Tasha," Nathan said, "who else was part of this team?" Tasha closed her eyes for a moment, hands on her temples as she ran through the list of faces. "Uhm....let's see, we've got four other mechanics who specialize in field-work and recovery. Two soldiers operating as security. Plus a medic. Why?" Pointing over to the woman he thought he recognized, Nathan said "Because I think I've already met one of them." Standing up, he made his way over to the familiar face and said in a joking tone, "So we meet again."

"That we do." Sigrid said rolling her eyes. "I take it you haven't fallen over again?" She half joked wondering if he had or would again. The medic held her white helmet under her right arm, the red cross painted on the front of it.
"All set for the journey?" Sigrid inquired as she made her way over to the truck.

"Nope, no more falls for me," Nathan said confidently. "We're just about set, just trying to settle an argument." Tasha walked over, snorting out a small laugh. "Argument? Really?" Shrugging his shoulders he said "Alright, discussion. And I'm still not sure about taking the Frame out there." Ignoring him, Tasha held her hand out to Sigrid and said "Sorry, I'm Tasha. You are?"

"I'd hold you to that." Though a few more knocks to the head might knock some sense into him, Sigrid joked to herself. She watched Tasha walked over towards them, letting out a small laugh. She shook Tasha hand. "Sigrid, a pleasure."
She glanced at Nathan. "Perhaps you should take it just in case the fire power is needed."

"And yet as I keep telling people," Nathan sighed, "I'm not a pilot. Just a mechanic who hopped in the first thing he could find." Tasha smirked and said "Look where that got you now eh? Safe and sound, and about to head back out there." Sighing, he muttered "Don't remind me...." Deciding that it was a losing fight, he said "Fine, I'll take the Frame. But don't complain when I'm nothing but shit in it."

Stalking over to the Frame, he left Tasha alone with Sigrid. "So wait," she said, "what did you mean about the knocks to the head?"

"At least you know how to use it." The medic joked to the male mechanic, pleased that he decided to use it in the end. He might not be the best pilot out there but he might become a good one over time. Sigrid paused, her cheeks flushing with colour. "I said that out loud?" She shook her head. "Nothing Tasha."

"Yes you most definitely said it out loud," Tasha said, grinning a little. "Come on, give me the details. Something happen to my friend over there or what?"

"Dang." Sigrid winced. "Yeah he fell over on oil or grease yesterday."

She didn't even try to hide it; Tasha burst out laughing. "He--oh man, hahaha!" she cried. "Wow.....I would have liked to see that. Was he okay though?" She said it all through barely suppressed giggles, her sides starting to ache.