Science Fiction AVP: Alien vs Predator

Cassandra Bell and Dave Palmerro
Cafeteria


Bullets. So many bullets. ?Bell, you let your own man die out there?!?!? Bullets. Too many bullets. And the screams. The screams coming from the body close to her. ?I DIDN?T MEAN TO!!? Sobs in the night. The bloody body. Her own man, Her soldier. ?You did mean to! You let him die, you let him!!? Bullets. Foreign cries in the black sky. Her own man standing over her, holding his gun in his hands. ?I didn?t. . .please. . . I didn?t. . .? Sobs. The bullets. So many bullets. The general standing over her, the whip in his hands. ?You meant to! God, you killed your own man!? The oncoming bullets. So many of them. In his chest. In arms. Legs. Face. Her own man. ?I didn?t. . .? He brought the whip down. ?Yes *whack* you *whack* did*!!?

?NO I DIDN?T!?

Cassandra Bell had followed Andrea Kesler into the cafeteria. As she looked around, she recognized barely anyone, and that scared her. What if the General was here? ?You let him die, you let him!? The General was here. Behind the counter. She envisioned him getting up from inside the kitchen, the whip in his right hand, the gun in his other. He was covered in blood, her own blood. And he would hit her. Collapsing on the floors, she started crying. He was coming. The General was coming. One man stepped by her, a plate filled with peas in his arms. He tripped over her shoe, which was stretched out at an awkward angle. The peas slid off the plate and onto Cassandra?s back. Bullets! The General was shooting! Cassandra rose from the floor, facing the waiter who resembled the General. At least to her. Everyone looked like the General. Even Andrew. She reached down and picked up a fork, feeling of the ends in her fingers. Then she closed her eyes and lowered her head, as if she was praying. Then she raised the fork above her head, eyes wide open and angry. Wild.

Out of nowhere came a flash of red.

Dave Palmerro, after his embarrassing moment with the blonde haired woman, had gotten a craving in the pit of his stomach. After wandering into the cafeteria, he had caught his sights on the strange figure of Cassandra. He had listened on his travels to her accountings of her life in the military. And he had understood her pain of losing a loved one. Before the woman could jab the fork into the man?s neck, Dave was there, his hand holding hers. He smiled lovingly, and she caught her breath, staring wide eyed.

?It?s okay, sweetie. Just lower the fork,? he smiled welcomingly, ?It?s okay, Uncle Dave is here.? He patted her hand, and her wide eyes dropped the fork onto the floor. The man stumbled to his hands and knees, breaking into a run before Dave could apologize. Turning to the cafeteria as a whole, he spoke. ?I think Cassie had a little too much to drink. She will retire for the night.? Dave knew there would be talk of this attack, and Cassie would face critic. And he also knew that she hadn?t drank much of anything this night. After laying the distraught woman in her bed, locking the door behind himself, he decided to head back to the cafeteria. He would face everything for this woman.

Because he understood.

TAG: Humans

 

IC: Special-Agent-in-Charge Ian Lamb, Kantino

When Dave "Life of the Party" Palmerro turned up beside his table, Ian was so surprised to him, that he stopped eating his chicken leg.

What happened next was just a collection of images and sounds.

Clatter

Fork.

"It?s okay, sweetie. Just lower the fork. It?s okay, Uncle Dave is here." A utensil clattered to the tiled floor, and somebody ran away. "I think Cassie had a little too much to drink. She will retire for the night."

In the silence that followed, Lamb recovered first.

"That was Dave," he reported around a mouthful of food, jabbing the remains of his nibbled chicken bone after the disappeared Palmerro and Cassie.

Tag: Anyone

 

IC: Kelser and Riley

Both Kesler and Riley turned to see what all the commotion was about. Then Cassie was being taken away.

Nikki was getting a little worried. First there was a break down by the girl Lisa, and talk of killing people. Now this woman was going crazy. What kinda messed up team of soldiers was this?

Kesler stood up and watched as Cassie was taken from the room.

"That was Dave," Ian said.

"What the hell was that about?" Kesler asked no one in particular. A couple minutes ago, Cassie was the cute french chick that wouldn't leave his side. Now this?

TAG: all in cafeteria...

 

OOC: I guess I oughta mention that in a few days I'll be heading out of town...visiting some family 2000 miles away. I won't have my computer, and probably have little to no internet access for a week. So, yeah, just to let you players and GM's know, I'll be gone from Saturday to Saturday.

 

OOC: If anybody's still playing, I'll see you in a week!

 

OOC: Thank you to GM for approving the post, and move forwards.

IC: Alien nrcs (Angelo and Barry)
Location: Surface of X327

It was a sign of how decadent and wealthy that the Company was, that the drone to map the surface of X327, was a vintage white Chevrolet Cobalt member of the infamous StreetView fleet, with the multi-coloured ?Google? logo on the doors, and the black periscopic camera mount extending up through the car?s roof.

The thing should have been in a museum, and probably was, before Company representatives swept in and bought the whole building.

A patina of dust covered the remote-controlled car?s lower skirts, as it rolled to a stop near the network of caves that contained the Alien nest.

The polarised drivers? side window reflected the black banana-shaped head and chrome incisors as the first Alien bared it?s teeth, and chuffed vapour onto the glass.
Long black bio-mechanical fingers curled under the door handle with unexpected gentleness, and pulled, to no avail.
It turned at the approach of it?s fellow xenomorph.

*Hisssssss.* [Barry, you got a coat hangar]

*Hiss?hisssssss?* [A coat?a coat hangar?]

*Hiss.* [Yeah]

*Hisssssss.* [Out the way.] The second alien shouldered his companion aside and stood at the car/probe, saliva dripping from his rippling lips as they drew back. *Hiss.* [Idiot]

SMASH! The inner set of jaws shot out to puncture the tinted plexiglase.

*Hiss.* [Voila] The second Alien turned triumphantly to his mate, only to see his rapidly diminishing back. *Hisssssss?* [Where the hell are you going?]

*Hissss!* [Back in a sec!]

*Hisssssss!* [You better; I?m not taking the fall on this on!] Barry was most displeased with the turn of events. If he got busted by the cops, he was going to sing like a canary. An incredibly ugly, oversized canary with talons of steel and acid for blood, but a canary nevertheless.

Twenty minutes later

Barry spotted Angelo returning, his arms full with something semi-organic, and barrel-shaped.

*Hiss? Hisssssss!* [Where the hell have you been, Angelo? That?s twenty minutes of my life I?m not going to get back!]

*Hisssss! Hisssssss?* [It?s a network of caves! What do you want from me?]
Carefully opening the Chevrolet door, Angelo bent his knees and eased the egg inside, pushing through cables and complicated mechanics to find the room, then closed the door, standing back from the halted vehicle to admire his handiwork, grinning.

Barry watched all this, looking from the Google StreetView camera car, to Angelo, and back again. *Hisss-iss?* [And you did that, why?]

*Hisssssss.* [Well, it?s a laugh, innit]

* * * *

Aboard the Marco Polo

Muted alarms in the control room relayed that the ?drone? on the planet below, had run into trouble.

An automated message blared over the personal address system, echoing through the corridors, and over the Celebration Hall:

Will Doctor Yakamura, and all Ground Survey personnel, please report to the Control Room immediately

Tag: Whoever would care, Yakamura Misake

 

IC: Doctor Yakamura Misake, S-A-C Ian Lamb, Mother
Location: Control Room, the Marco Polo


Misake finished shrugging into her white scientist cloak, that she had over the light blue one-piece uniform, as she entered the Control Room.

The Marco Polo had a Command Centre for all station and ship stuff, and the Control Room, filled with integrated desks, computer screens and keyboards, for the scientists to deal with the planet and interact with their probes.

Despite the call for everyone related to the surface project to attend, the place was remarkably empty, except for a man in a short-sleeved blue shirt, that bore a yellow star on the sleeves.
One hand was greased up, as he chewed on a chicken leg.

She assumed the call had interrupted his supper.

?Special-Agent-in-Charge Ian Lamb-? he started to introduce himself as she entered.

?Do not touch anything.? She warned sternly, wondering where the hell everyone was. Aaron Lars, one of her fellow scientists, could at least have turned up!

?Yes, Ma?am.?

Misake smiled, then ignored him to call out to the Polo?s resident artificial intelligence: ?Mother? What?s the emergency??

One of the drones on the surface has ceased functioning, Doctor Yakamura, the disembodied feminine voice responded.

She could tell from the way Lamb looked about to see who had spoken, that he probably not been with the Company long, or been to one of their high-end spec bases.
"Is that you throwing your voice?"

"Hai [Yes]. And I am available for Seijin No Hi [Coming of Age Day] and children's parties." Nodding, Misake stepped to the nearest computer console, and pulled a wheeled chair back to sit on it. ?Alright, Mother, pull up the drone's telemetry for me.?

Of course, Doctor.

The scientist leaned in to study the green text and numerals scrolling slowly up the screen.

Tag: anyone

OOC: Thank you to Japanese Festivals and Celebrations.

 

OOC: I apologize for my disappearance. Before we move the story along we need a new predator since Draco_Drake isn't a part of the RP anymore. The third spot for the Predator is up for grabs. Drop me a character sheet if you want to play him. I will leave it open until Sunday. The game will be moving on to the next stage then.

IC: Aaron Lars

Aaron lingered around the party for awhile after the briefing. He mostly hung around the other scientists. Despite the fact that he was military the regular soldier always acted weird around him. True he is probably three times smarter then they are but he still considered himself to be a soldier. Because he was. But he hung out with the scientists anyways. Talking to them surprised him. They were smart, but they weren't nearly as smart as Doctor Yakamura Misake, and he was.

Part way through the night Aaron fled party and headed to the gym to relax. He was stressed from an argument on a paper that a scientist wrote. The first scientist began to get drunk and boast about a paper that he wrote. The scientist didn't like that and began to claim that he wrote it, and the other guy stole it. This broke out into a whole argument. It only got worse when he decided to mention that their equations were wrong. He then went on to explain how they were wrong, and point out a tiny flaw. This made the entire group mad because none of them saw it. So as soon as he was able Aaron escaped the fight.

The gym was quite except for the sound of weights being lifted by a marine across the room. Aaron nodded to him, and sat down at a weight machine. He had been working out for about an hour when a message came over the speakers.

Will Doctor Yakamura, and all Ground Survey personnel, please report to the Control Room immediately

I suppose I should go see what is going on. he thought. Aaron ended his workout session, and headed for the control room. He would have liked to grab a shower but it sounded urgent so he skipped that. But since his quarters were on the way he stopped to grab his lab coat, and change clothes. When he arrived at the control room Doctor Yakamura was already there and working on the disturbance. Also in the room was a man with a chicken leg who looked like he might be with security.

Aaron entered the room. He was wearing blue pants, a black long sleeved shirt, and the lab coat. "Sorry I am late. What's going on?"

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: S-A-C Ian Lamb, Doctor Yakamura, Mother, Control Room.
Location: the Marco Polo


Not allowed to touch anything due to sticky fingers, and undistracted by the data scrolling over her screen, Ian was the first to spot the guy in the white coat step up into room, though, he thought the man?s face had been among the military photos.

He waved the chicken bone towards the newcomer.

?Sorry I am late. What's going on??

Misake did not turn from her data. ?Mother? Fill Doctor Lars in, please.?

Doctor Lars, one of the surface drones has ceased functioning.

Misake finally did half-turn from her screen, to look up at her fellow scientist. ?And what the hell is General Order 1138??

Tag: Lars, anyone

OOC: I was trying to find the General Order in Alien that Captain Dallas read on Mother?s screen, but could not. To ignore, it could be that none of the characters know what 1138 is.

 

OOC: Ah, good. I see things are finally happening. Now that I'm back from vacation, I can post...

---

[b]IC: Kesler, Riley[/b]

The voice said all ground personnel needed to head for the control room.

Andrew Kesler swallowed what he had in his mouth and used the napkin to wipe the food from his face.

Nicolette Riley watched Kesler stand up. She tried to shovel in a little more food before she followed him.

"Come on, Nikki," Kesler said, turning back to the young girl. "We've gotta go."

"I know," she said through a mouthful of food. She swallowed and added, "I'm coming."

The two of them reached the control room just after the Lars fellow. [i]"Sorry I am late. What's going on?"[/i] the scientist asked the others in the room.

Misake didn't turn from her data. [i]"Mother? Fill Doctor Lars in, please."[/i]

Kesler and Riley entered behind the doctor to hear the voice of Mother say that something on the surface was not functioning.

[i]"And what the hell is General Order 1138?"[/i] Misake asked Lars.

Both Kesler and Riley waited and listened. A burp tried to sneak out of Nikki's mouth, but she managed to stifle it as she wiped the remaining food from her lips.

[b]TAG: others in the Control Room...[/b]

 

IC: Sergeant Scott Tracy, Ian Lamb, Control Room


Scott took longer to put on his camos and armour, and stepped up into the Control Room after Andrew and Nicollete, stopping beside his fellow sergeant.

"Andrew." He acknowledged his fellow NCO (non-commissioned officer).

"So what kind of surface conditions are we talking here?" Ian asked from the side. "I mean, are we going to need space suits?"

"We?" Scott echoed, looking across to the cop.

"Well, this drone obviously needs fixing. And from current attendance, your Ground Survey personnel seem to consist of just Lars and Yakamura, and at least one of them should stay up here in case something goes wrong."

Tag: Anyone

OOC: *Looks pointedly at GMs for information on the planet.*

 

OOC: Hey sorry for not getting something up when I said I would. When I posted I forgot that my Grandparents would be here on Sunday. So I may not be able to get something up this week because I will be spending time with them. Thank you all for being patient, and sticking with the game.

 

OOC: Well, it?s been a week. Will assume spacesuits till advised otherwise.

IC: Yakamura Misake, Sergeant Scott Tracy, Mother, Ian Lamb, Control Room
Location: the Marco Polo

After a pause that felt like about a week, but was only a few moments, the sergeant made an executive decision. ?Alright, assume spacesuits.? He looked across the tops of several screens to his girlfriend. ?Misake, you stay up here.?

She nodded. ?Copy that.? She somehow made the acknowledgement sound cute, drawing a smile from Scott, who then looked up to address the computer.

?Mother, is it??

Affirmative, Sergeant Tracy.

?Prep the dropship, please.?

We have three, Sergeant Tracy.

?Fine. Prep the first one in line.?

Dropship prep initiated.

* * * *

In the stygian, cavern-like bowels of the space station, strip lighting flickered on, section by section, revealing the hard, smooth black bodies of UD4L Cheyenne dropships suspended just a few metres above the floor, and below the ceiling. The entire interior was black, absorbing the light.

The dropship on the end shifted mechanically to the side, then smoothly whine along on it?s hidden gantry while part of the deck slid aside, bathing the military craft?s underside in light from the launch bay

* * * *

?Thank you, Mother.? Scott turned to Andrew and Nicki. ?So, either of you, pilot qualified??

For his part, the peace officer crossed to a wall communicator, and in deference to his greased fingertips, knuckled the activation toggle.
?Agent Palmerro, please. Dave, pick up??

Tag: Andrew Kesler, Nicolette Riley, Dave Palmerro, All

 

IC: Andrew Kesler, Nicolette Riley
Spacestation

Scott turned to Andrew and Nikki. ?So, either of you, pilot qualified??

As the peace officer crossed to a wall communicator, Nikki spoke up. "Yes, sir," she said, sounding more professional than usual. She stood a little more `at attention` as well. "I was trained by the United States Air Force." She hesitated. "I was recruited for this mission right out of the Academy, so I've never actually, ya know, been in a mission out in the field. But I've got all the proper training."

Kesler, on the other hand, was examining the dropship. It was a nice-looking piece of machinery. He'd never flown on anything like that before. This would be quite an experience.

TAG: Sithy, and whoever else is still playing...

 

OOC: Sorry for lack of posting. Am unwell, terribly busy at work, and by the way, permission is given for anyone to play Mother. Consistence is requested though. Bold green text, please.

IC: Scott Tracy, Mother

Scott nodded at Nicki and clapped her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Good. You're elected. Get your flight gear, get set up in the cockpit." He looked up. "Mother, is the dropship armed?"

The M61 Vulcan is fully loaded, Sergeant. The AI confirmed, referring to the heavy, six-barrelled rotary cannon, air-cooled and electrically fired.

He glanced aside to his fellow sergeant. "We are only going to fix a fething probe; do you think we need to load missiles?"

Tag: Dubya Scott, other players jump right in.

 

IC: Kesler and Nikki
spacestation

Nikki felt the hand on her shoulder. "Good," the man said. "You're elected. Get your flight gear, get set up in the cockpit."

"Yes, sir," she responded. "Give me just a few minutes." She turned and hurried back toward the living quarters of the spacestation.

As Nikki disappeared from the hangar, Kesler heard Mother say that an M61 Vulcan was loaded on the dropship. M61 Vulcan? That was some heavy duty firepower. What were they expecting to find?

Considering they were landing on a...well, pretty much unknown planet, maybe some heavy weapons weren't that bad of an idea.

"We are only going to fix a fething probe; do you think we need to load missiles?" Scott directed toward Kesler.

Kesler was still facing the dropship, thinking. After a brief hesitation, he turned his head to look over toward Scott. "Probably should. We can't be too careful."

TAG: Sithy and any others...

 

IC: Scott Tracy, Ian Lamb
Location: The Marco Polo


"Probably should. We can't be too careful." Andrew decided.

Even though he had asked the question himself, Scott felt loading missiles to be a bit overkill for what they were going to do, but now that he had asked, and Kesler had answered.

"Alright, head back to the party and cafeteria; wrangle a team to start loading those missiles. I'll go after the spacesuits."

The sergeant walked into the corridor, then heard footfalls as someone ran up behind him.

"Sergeant, I cannot reach Agent Palmerro." SAC Lamb called after him, panting as he caught up.

"Leave him." Scott advised. "You can help me get the suits."

Tag: Andrew, all

 

OOC: Screw it. Since there are no other players to "wrangle" for the team, I'm gonna make an executive decision here and bring in some more characters. If the GMs return and don't like that...well, we'll deal with it when the time comes.

---

[b]IC: Kesler and Nikki
[i]still on the space station[/i][/b]

Having been told to wrangle up some more people, Andrew Kesler headed back toward the party. When he arrived, everyone was still stuffing their faces and chugging down alcoholic beverages. Did they not realize they had a mission to carry out?

Kesler had to pick the right people for the job. The only one's he had met so far were that girl Lisa, who apparently had a questionable background, and the young French woman, who had a mental breakdown. He didn't know where either of them were. That was probably a good thing, considering the seemed to be a little "unstable".

Wait... What about those three people he had met on the trip out to the space station? What were their names again? If he saw there faces, he would remember.

He glanced around the kitchen. Didn't recognize anyone. He pushed his way through the swinging doors into the party area. He didn't see- Ah! There was one of them now.

Two men and one woman were standing together talking and laughing. Each of them had a glass of wine in their hands. Kesler stepped up to them. "Pardon me," he interrupted with a smile.

"Hey, Kess," [b]Tim Warren[/b] said, turning to Kesler. Warren was a big, burly black man (think "[link=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/archive/1/1b/20090730195726!Roadblock.png]Roadblock[/link]" from the old [i]G.I. Joe[/i] comics) who looked like he could handle an entire SWAT team on his own. "What's up, man?"

Kesler shook the man's hand. Wow, what a grip! "Timmy, good to see you again," Kesler responded. "Got a little situation I hope you'd be willing to help with."

"Sure," Warren said. "What is it?"

"Head down toward the Launch Bay. We've gotta load up the dropship that's there," Kesler briefly explained. "I need to round up a few more people so wait for me there."

"You got it, brother," Warren said as he handed the glass to the other man he was standing next to. "'Scuse me, folks," he said as he walked away with Kesler.

- - -

Meanwhile, back in the Launch Bay, Nicolette Riley came rushing back toward the dropship carrying a small backpack with her. "Okay," she said to herself. "You can do this, Nikki. It's just like the simulators back home." She stopped when she reached the ramp leading into the ship. Taking a deep breath she added, "Except for the fact that this is the real deal."

[b]TAG: I'll give you 3 guesses, and the first 2 don't count...[/b]

 

OOC: It's OK with me. I'll try and see if I can round up the people who aren't posting.

 

OOC: Cool. Thanks, cdgodin. These will be the last "new characters" for me.

---

[b]IC: Andrew Kesler
[i]space station[/i][/b]

Kesler took one last look into the party room before leaving to search for the other familiar faces he knew were somewhere on this space station. As he turned, back toward the corridor, he spun around and bumped into a young man about his height. The man wasn't very big, but he was in shape. "Oh, sorry," Kesler responded, just as he realized it was the man he was looking for.

"Hey, Kesler," the young man replied. "Don't worry about it. I wasn't watching where I was going either." The fit young man, [b]Dave Rosefield[/b], gave a little punch into Kesler's shoulder. "What's up, man? How are you?"

"Good, good," Kesler said. "Hey, looks like we might be shipping out soon for a little mission to the planet's surface. I was hoping you'd join us."

"Yeah, of course," Rosefield responded happily.

"Mind if I tag along?" a feminine voice came from behind Kesler. "Anything to get out of this space station."

Kesler turned to see the third person he happened to be looking for: [b]Tiffany Deas[/b]. She was short, had her hair cropped just above her shoulders, and wore thick-rimmed glasses. She was carrying a couple extra pounds, but wasn't fat at all. (Just a little "junk in the trunk", one might say.) She was actually quite attractive. She was one of the scientists that was recruited for the mission.

"Hey, Tiff," Dave said to her. "I need to get out of this place too. Getting too cramped in here."

"Perfect," Kesler responded. "Let's head down to the Launch Bay. Tim Warren is already down there waiting for us." Kesler started heading for the lift.

[b]TAG: any...[/b]

 

OOC: Sorry for inactivity. Got RPF Adoptions business, posting elsewhere, and cdgodin won't tell me whether X327 has an atmosphere or not.

 

OOC: It has an atmosphere, OK? How else will the aliens breathe?

IC: Hirkz

Hirkz was calmly waiting in the pilot's seat of the Predator spacecraft when he noticed activity on the surface of X327. It appeared the stupid oomans had sent a drone to the planet. Well, at least the Xenomorphs and oomans will be in the same place, he thought.

TAG: Any predator.

OOC: Yes, I'm finally continuing the Pred storyline. You got a problem with that?

 

OOC: It has an atmosphere, OK?



How else will the aliens breathe?

First two movies suggested hard vacuum was not an impediment.

Yes, I'm finally continuing the Pred storyline. You got a problem with that?

No.

---

[b]IC: Scott Tracy, Ian Lamb[/b]
[color=red]Location: Launch Bay[/color]

If the launch bay was quiet, then anyone within would be able to hear the approach of the two that had gone for the spacesuits.

?So what do you think, Sergeant; will I be able to handle a box of matches while wearing the suit gloves??

?Er, why do you want to know??

?Well in the absence of any data from the drone, and in case the sensors on our suits don?t work, I was thinking of striking one of the matches while we were on the surface, and extra-vehicular from the dropship. If it doesn?t light, we know there is no air; if it does, if we get little flame, there has to be an atmosphere.....what??

?Suppose it?s hydrogen?! You could ignite the atmosphere, immolate [i]us[/i], take out the planet and maybe the [i]Marco Paolo[/i] too!?

?Didn?t anyone teach you not to snatch!?

?Stick to solving crimes. Leave atmosphere yes-no questions to the scientists.?

A kind of wheeled coat-hangar arrangement rolled into the bay, both men at either end. Sergeant Tracy had a face like red thunder. ?Don?t park it on any of the yellow and black lines, either.?

S-A-C Lamb stopped pulling on the metal frame, from which hung five bulky suits, with segmented limbs, and ornately designed helmets with expansive viewplates. Two were white, the others, various shades of metal, sometimes on the same outfit.

Lamb looked around the bay for sign of activity, then glanced back at the marine. "We did ask Mother if the planet had an atmosphere, didn't we?" He looked up. "Mother, does-"

[b][color=green]Planet X327 possesses an atmosphere, Special Agent.[/color][/b] The artificial maternal voice confirmed.

Tracy ceased pushing, and stood to wipe his brow. "Thanks, Mother. Is it one we can breathe?"

[b][color=green]Unable to clarify.[/color][/b]

The cop chuckled grimly. "If we ever meet the mope who programmed her, I'm booking them for incitement, and throwing away the keycard."

[b]Tag: Dubya?s guys, any other players[/b]

 

IC: Tim Warren, Nicolette Riley
Launch Bay - The Marco Polo

A few minutes before the spacesuits arrived, Tim Warren entered the Launch Bay, just as Kesler had asked him. But...there was nobody here?

Hearing footsteps on the metallic floor, Nikki peeked around the side of the dropship to see the big guy staring back at her. "Hi," she said.

"Hey, girl," Tim said as he walked toward Nikki. "What's goin' on down here? Kess told me to come down and help with the dropship."

"Oh," Nikki responded simply. "Yeah, I think we're preparing to head to the surface of X327...or whatever the planet is named..."

"Alright," Tim said happily. "I'm definitely in on this mission."

Then he heard a high-pitched noise that sounded like a squeaky wheel. Then he heard two men talking. He and Nikki both walked around from behind the dropship to see Tracy and Lamb wheeling in the cart full of spacesuits. One of the men looked upward, and then came the feminine voice called "Mother".

Tim Warren walked over to the two men. "Hey, boys," he said cracking his knuckles. "Kesler sent me down here to help. What d'you need me to do?"

TAG: Sithy...

 

OOC: I did consider putting in a squeaky wheel!

IC: Ian Lamb, Scott Tracy

As two waited by the spacesuits, two more people showed up from behind the dropship.

One was Miss Riley, their new pilot. The other was a big dude that- Ian?s mind?s eye flashed to a holo-ID on the personnel files he had looked over - was Tim Warren.

He had not seen him at the party.

?Hey boys,? Said the man, coming over, ?Kesler sent me down here to help. What d?you need me to do??

"Hi. Special-Agent-in-Charge Ian Lamb. It's a pleasure." Lamb winced at the knuckle-cracking. He gestured to Tim?s big brown hands. ?Does that serve any actual purpose? That cracking knuckles thing??

Sergeant Tracy but two fingers down the back of the cop?s collar, and hauled the smaller civilian behind him. ?Down boy.? He had lost all respect for the man after the matchbox idea, and was making no secret of it. ?Tim, glad to have you. Can you get set up in one of the load lifters, and start loading missiles.? The marine started glancing about for the larger-than-life tools. ?No need to fill ?er up. Maybe four on each side, total of eight? Where the hell are the lifters??

Tag: Tim, Nicolette