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Blood, Sand, and Mechs

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Trixie

Super-Earth
Joined
Jun 18, 2013
Diadem raged. Of course, it always did, with sand storms sweeping the strip of sand, stone, and mountains that hugged tight to Diadem’s center like a belt and gave the planet – and its most unique feature, the Sand Belt – its name. It was a core of chaos – sandworms, great hairy beasts with claws that could cleave stone and a nose for flesh, and other horrors stalked the low dunes and high plateaus while the foolhardy mined for ores to be processed in one of the great mining cities of Diadem.

Ganymede was one such mining city, built of blocky, windowless buildings and protective domes all along the south edge of the city, looking more normal the further one got from the Sand Belt. A wall, fifteen feet high, wrapped all around the city, with protective turrets lining the edge manned by veteran gunners and the finest in heat-sensing, hostile-destroying soft and hardware.

It was a nice, homey place for a skewed definition of the term.

The Ganymede military base, a stout structure at the heart of the city was alive and ready for duty by six AM every morning, and it was fifteen ‘til just now. Soldiers were out in the training yards doing drills, while the mechanics worked on running the basic diagnostics for the base’s armored soldiers, the E-series mechs, the great scientist Emberg’s gift to humanity.

The clock turned 5:46.

An alarm was blaring, though not one of chaos and warning… but of an alarm clock.

Aleta's hand swept at the alarm, before remembering that it was a holographic display rather than the clock itself. “Aaaagh…” This and other mildly inhuman sounds were muttered as Lieutenant Rook edged off the side of her bed, her hand batting at more or less everything in reach; the nightstand, her headset, her… clock! The alarm shut off, and Aleta slumped back against the bed.

“Mrr…” Aleta managed before a voice broke into her room.

“Lt. Rook. Your presence is requested by in the west commons room by Captain Krieger.”

There was no off button for the speaker for her room, so she dragged herself slowly out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I’m up! I’m up,” she protested, standing up in her room.

She was quick through the shower and out in minutes, seeing the clock turn to 5:52. She pulled on her bra, panties, white shirt and her actual uniform, being a light khaki color with the green accents that told the world she was an officer of Ganymede. She put on her boots nearly at a run, the clock turning 5:55 as she departed the room.

6:00

Aleta hit the commons room with a hefty half-second to spare. It was a fine room, designed as a lounge of sorts. It was a favorite of the captain’s, and was designed to appeal to the tastes of even the executives and dignitaries that would come to stay at Gaynmede’s EOREF HQ. It was also, at the moment, bereft of one Captain Krieger.

His message had gone out to more than just her, however, the message sent to other operatives within Kaiser Company to meet up with Lt. Rook in that lush commons room…
 
0545:
Alex Newheart had been up for a couple of hours already, working with one of the base techs to resolve a feed issue on his mech, the Ms E. During a drill the other day, the feed line to AC had jammed, leaving a gap in the artillery line he was working for during the drill. Luckily, since the shells were dummies, it didn't really do anything, but it was embarrassing. The night before they had figured out that the problem was a sub-standard bolt that had escaped some morons quality control. He and the technician were just finishing up on checking all the other one hundred and five bolts and rivets in the feed system to make sure they were good when his base com squawked and called him to the West Commons Room. Letting out a string of cuss words, he slid out of the tight confines of Ms E, and told the tech to finish up as he grabbed a sani-wipe and began to wipe grease off his hands as he headed across base.

0600
Alex arrived at the room just as it's door was closing behind someone else. It opened for him, still rolling down his sleeves of his maintenance coveralls and he stepped in behind the lieutenant. "Good morning Ma'am," he said to her as he stepped around her, adjusting his tool belt in an attempt to look a little less out of place in this room.
 
Corporal Murdoch * - Special Forces[SPC]

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It was around 0630 or so when Corporal Murdoch eventually came to. Uncommon for him, this was a man who had never known the use of a clock and yet he was sleeping in later and later it seemed. Unrolling the cheap futon back into its original position. Murdoch spent the later half of that hour trying to recall the experience the night before.

It occurred to him that he was having the recurring dream again. This time involving the lieutenant, he wasn't much for putting his life under a psycho-analytic lens, but the graphic nature of the spell disturbed him quite a bit. Did he really bite her until she bled out? This wasn't healthy he thought. The past few days or so he felt an unease in her presence and made an effort to distance himself. Eventually, he would have to confront these instincts. He wasn't worried that he would act on them, rather his concern was the strain on their friendship or commandership whatever they were.

He found that running always helped to clear the mind and so he went on his usual 4k race outside the facility.
 
... huh.

Aleta had honestly not expected to be the only one who had actually shown up in the lounge -- she had, after all, come in just under the wire. She tapped her chin briefly, but it was only a few seconds that she had to ponder where Captain Krieger was before the pneumatic hiss of the door opening caught her attention. She turned on her heel to find the reassuring bulk of Corporal Newheart. She gave him a brief nod -- the EOREF didn't exactly stand on a whole lot of ceremony, given its nature. Besides, it was early.

"Good morning, Corporal. Nice to see you up and about." Aleta glanced briefly around the room, tapping her chin (as she was really apt to do when she was considering something). "Have you seen Corporal Murdoch?"

"Well, Lieutenant. Perhaps you had best see to waking your man up, hm?" came a familiar voice as a man stepped through another door, leading to the administrative core of the building. Captain Krieger smiled, offering Rook and Newheart a thin smile. "See to it, will you? I'd rather speak to all of you at once," the captain said.

"Ah, yessir," Aleta said with a quick salute. "Newheart, come with me. We'll bring a cart by the barracks. If he's not there, I know exactly where Murdoch will be."

0700

It did take a little while to find Murdoch, but the cart came rolling across the dusty ground around the outside of the base. She'd left it to Newheart to drive, while Aleta tried to get in touch with someone at the barracks. Nothing, of course, but she'd expected as much. Murdoch did always enjoy his runs, and she knew where he did it. Heck, sometimes she joined him on his runs.

"Murdoch! A word, please!" she called out when she caught sight of the quite familiar bronzed back of their not-quite-human comrade.
 
Corporal Murdoch * - Special Forces[SPC]

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Corporal Murdoch was approaching the homestretch of his 4 mile trek when none other than the lieutenant herself intercepted him on his way back to the base. When she called out for him he begrudgingly gestured a single finger to let her know that he needed a minute. Admittedly, Murdoch was far from tired. He could go at least another 10 before showing signs of fatigue.

If anything he was known on the base for his exceptional conditioning but yet he seemed somehow unraveled right then. He needed to collect himself before engaging his superior officer. He couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the eye but he did eventually engage her. "Something tells me you're not here for a blinddate. So...tell me, what brings you out here Miss Lieutenant? " He said, resting his arms in a folded position across his chest.
 
Newheart just followed Murdoch on his run until he came to a halt and turned to address the Lt. He knew about the cyborgs morning runs of course, they were almost a legend on base when Murdoch decided to do one of his marathon runs. But not hearing the muster call and having to chase him down was not a good thing. Setting the cart into park, he sat back and waited to see what the Lt would say, his eyebrow cocked at an angle.
 
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