Ajax gather his additional gear, then departs to learn some new spells. Once there, he will atempt too learn as many spells as he can that have any value to himm...
This message was last updated by the player at 00:01, Wed 15 Mar 2006.

 For his part, once the equipment has been appropriately divvied, the prisoners turned over to Proper Authority (and signed for), various injuries seen to and the world as a whole set to rights for one more day, the hulking cyborg takes off to browse the many and varied delights of the market stalls.

 Of course, he's already about as well armed as he's likely to need to be, but it never hurts to do some window shopping - and as ever, if someone wishes to tag merrily along, they're more than welcome.




]

Xion will go to the exchange and look around at the wares they have to offer. Speaking to the first attendant who he can get to, "I need grenades, preferably some with a little more pop than the average grenade, any recommendations, and probably a little bit better side arm."

As the Russian 'borg walks past her extended hand, Callie looks put out for a moment, then shrugs and heads back to the exchange.  Her mood improves considerably as she is once more immersed in the technological cornucopia (or as close as one can find to such in Hillcrest).

[Oops]

 The quiet words of the small humanoid woman went unnoticed at first of course, and this is unconscionable in and of itself but the big 'Russian was rather busy, in his slight defence, handing out the various cash shares to those entitled to them and making sure all the various bits and pieces got suitably stacked on the Armourer's truck.

 But the minutes pass by, she pouts and little and wanders off as he in his turn (thoroughly distracted in a way that would be positively dangerous on the battlefield, but is perhaps forgivable given how many holes he's had blasted in him) he seems to recall the words, and since they're both stalking around the stalls, he redirects his attentions to locate her.

 Of course, how successful he might be is another matter - after all, /he/ stands out in a crowd... she might not.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:41, Thu 16 Mar 2006.

The rest of the day is spent differently for each member of Third Platoon...

Some, shop. Spending all their profits on more weapons. Some sit in on teachings, in an attempt to learn new ways to craft the mystic energies of the Earth. Others wait for medical attention, and others for mechanical repairs.

The two officers of Third Platoon return from their briefing. Some members of the platoon are in desperate need of repairs or medical attention. Others ahve already begun learning new spells. The Officers schedule a meeting in 6 hours by the command building.

At least one spell is available to each who need it, and full medical recovery is finished. (the overflow of wounded are the fatally wounded who are being kept alive - and the sheer number of mercenaries and soldiers moving about. Most of Pluto Company is in Hillcrest now.

Silvermasque gets patched up by a companion of Zeds' and the Mystic Knights'. An armorer named Smith. A good four hours of solid work on Silvermasque will restore 50% of the damage. Smith suggests he buys armour, rather than replating himself after every battle. And to save up for a new body model...

(If anyone wants to buy anything still - private message me.)

(Also, it would appear Ren has wandered off...)

   Lotus wanders around the inside of the infirmary looking for Arven.  She knows his bulk would be far too much to rest in a normal-sized cot.  Its quite possible his ego wouldn't let him rest anyway, so she tries asking an attendant where she can find the thirteen-foot-tall rahu man.  It is unlikely he could have passed through here un-noticed.
   When Lotus eventually locates the four-armed gunslinger, she walks up to him quietly and removes her helmet before speaking...

   Zephram leaves the briefing alongside Xion and makes a few radio transmissions to his team.  He is starting to gain some respect for Xion, and hopefully the feeling is mutual.  He feels it is acceptable for him to issue some orders across the platoon in Xion's stead.
   "This is Zephram.  The briefing is finished.  We're going to be on light-duties for the next couple of days until the next assignment begins.  That means we'll be assisting Hillcrest with perimeter patrols starting tomorrow morning.  We'll gather at the main entrance at 0800 hrs to work out the details.  We'll also be splitting into two approximately equal teams.  These will be set up in the morning.  Until then, everyone is on their own merits.  Also, Sarah, come see Xion or myself immediately for reassignment.  In case you haven't met them yet, we'll be taking on a few new people from 2nd platoon.  But we'll cover that in the morning too.  Only rule for the night everyone is to keep your radios on.  That's it."

   Zephram will then signal to Xion that he's going to leave him for now and go visit with an old friend.  Zephram wanders for a bit until he spots the massive behemoth.  He walks up from behind and clears his throat to signal his presence.  "Sir, it is I, Zephram.  Ummm, how are you doing?"  Zephram looks up at Obidiah with expectant eyes and a bit of hesitation.

After some looking around, Saul finds an armour shop run but a man named Smith.  Saul steps into the shop and finds that Smith is busy repairing Silvermasque's armours.  Turning to Smith's assistants, Saul asks,  "Hi,  would any of you guys be able to spray paint my armour?"

Lying on a blanket on the ground hooked up to two different I.V.'s Arven smiles when he sees Lotus. "Nobody sent me a get well card or nothing unless you are here to do a strip-o-gram." The giant says jokingly. When Zephram calls on the radio he rolls his eyes at the Mystic Knight. "That dumbfuck thinks I am doing guard duty he is stupider than he looks. Im on injured reserve till we get the fuck outta here. Speaking of I need to get my creds and get over to the exchange to try and find some kinda mystic armor or protection and maybe even some kinda chestplate. I am used to killing guys two or ten at a time but not fighting armies. I need a little bit of insurance ya know." Arven unexpectedly smacks Lotus on the butt with one of his lower arms and gives her a wink.

As Zephram approaches the golems massive head turns rock grating against rock as it does. When the warlock addresses him Obidiah remains silent and completely still for a moment. Given the way he communicates though it is likely Zephram is hearing something everyone else is not. The golems face stays as it of course always will but he becomes more animated than he has been since he walked up to the group. He moves forward as if to embrace Zephram in a huge hug but then stops and instead reaches down and pats the man very gingerly on the shoulder obviously taking great care to be gentle.

While Silvermasque is in a modified Coalition APC having patchwork done by Smith, Saul mentions he wants to be painted.

Naturally, another of Zeds' companions steps forward and offers to help, using an old security system of Smiths' APC.

The Large 'Borg mentions he can paint Sauls' armour. Big Greasy Mac as he is called now goes on to say "There are alot of mercenaries with stolen suits of Coalition armour coming around, looking to change it so they don't get shot by their own side... Most of 'em go with a green camoflauge job. Whadda ya want?"

Not really having anywhere else to go Sharp stands idly by and watches all the goings on. Haering the ex-coaltion soldier he had previously considered killing talk with the borg about a paint job Sharp chuckles. "Green camo at night is not far from black mate. Flourescent orange or green that glows might be a better choice. If you had even a bit of sense you would trade that clown suit in for a new one. Sharp goes back to leaning on his hovercycle honestly not caring much one way or the other if the turncoat gets himself fragged by friendly-fire.

Callie, once she calms down a bit, spends much of the day perusing the exchange for things that may be useful.  She is fairly selective in her choices as well, spending a bit of time with this merchant explaining how she needs the " . . . left shoulder actuator from a Mark 2.1 Skelebot.  This one is plainly a right shoulder motivator from a mark 2.03, and the molycircs aren't compatable between the models." or with that pile of printed circuits looking for some esoteric version.  Say what you will about the flightiness of teenage girls in general, this one plainly knows her stuff when it comes to machines.

After hearing Sharps remarks, Saul decides to simply ignor his comments and not take the risk of being attacked again. Saul then turns to Big Greasy Mac and says,   "I think I will take my suit in a dark red.  I don't think that camoflage will do much against the coalitions scans and thermal devices.  At lest, I might look somewhat cool in red."

In a deep metallic voice, The 'borg respends to Saul.

"As you can tell I have been around. Met alot of mercenaries. I've seen alot of young ones come and go,  and even a few friends. You are new to this profession aren't you."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:06, Wed 22 Mar 2006.

Eventually most of the team find their way to the sleeping area - the rows of cots. The cots are human sized, with only a limited few larger, alien-sized. The biggest being ten feet in length.

The morning comes, and it is time for this meeting. Arven is cured eventually when the mage finally finds the time, and energy to do so. Unfortunately for this lazy quad-opus the medical station reports in to the officers, and do so regarding Arvens' status, and availability for the upcoming platoon briefing.

It is now meeting time, and all are present, in front of the Hillcrest - army head quarters. Everyone (willing) are present. The officers may begin.

Sarah and Ren are not present. Perhaps the officers will explain that as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:19, Wed 22 Mar 2006.

   "Alright, let's just take a quick role-call.  We have a few new members now, so I want to make sure we're not missing anyone who didn't think I was serious when I said 0800 hrs..."
   Zephram looks about the group gathered around to make sure no one is missing.

   OOC - I suppose this would be a good opportunity for anyone intending to blow off the patrol duties to let us know :)

 Bright and early and on the dot of 07:50, the hulking (and now mostly patched-up, but still visibly battle-damaged) figure of 'Masque stomps into view, clutching an oversized mug of coffee in one vibro-clawed hand and a cigar in another.

 However, or whatever he spent his night doing, he certainly seems to have settled in with commendable swiftness and sets about doing so once more, picking out a convenient spot to seat himself next to a chair.

 "Silvermasque, here." he states, quite uneccessarily, when the time comes.

Harmon spends most of his free time at the spell-clinic presumably learning something useful. The rest of the time he simply complains in his rumbling voice about the teachers, I mean, these people couldn't tell a ley line from a simple dimensional anamoly. And they're gonna teach ME? No wonder the CS is makin' headway!  He falls asleep almost as soon as he hits the cot, as it groans under his considerable - though still human - weight.

By the morning, he is still snoring contentedly. Only by some accident does he snort, mid-snore, catch his breath, and find himself rattled awake. Grumbling again, he is about to slide back down to the cot when he glances at a clock.

Oh crap! He reluctantly pulls himself out of the bed and hustles himself over to the gathering just moments before Zephram begins. He is fully rumpled and grouchy from a night of poor sleep on the ratty cot, but then, perhaps he doesn't look so different from the previous day. In fact, maybe the sleep has nothing to do with it.

0800hrs... like a well-oiled machine... he mumbles, happy that he made it.

The orc arrives with Silvermasque. He sits cross-legged on the ground and waits for the meeting to start.

After gathering weapons gear, learned a new spell, Ajax a few hours doing some modifications on his weapons, Power Armor. Once is to his liking, he get some rest for the night. At 0600 hour, Ajax wake up and starts getting ready for the miission of day. Doing a final check on weapons and power armor systems, Ajax travel to the meeting area just in time him to respond for roll call, "  Ajax here! All weapons are ready, armor at full readiness, all system are ready for the mission, Sir!"

Mephisto appears, as if he had teleported.

He awaits what is next.

Mephisto is glad to see that Ren still has not returned.

After everyone who needed sleep retired Obidiah walked out to the perimeter of Hillcrest and waited the night out. He forced himself to think of his family and recall all the wonderful details associated with them. Including the things like the touch of his late wifes caress, the smell of his childrens hair after bathtime and the taste of Sunday afternoon dinner which was always the same and always wonderful. Touch, smell and taste are things he will never experience again. When he thinks of what he has given up he thinks of the Coalition and how if it were not for them he would not have forsaken his humanity. The fires of hatred are starting to burn strongly within what is left of the once peaceful man inside the golem. When the first of the company arrive early that morning Obidiah has already been present for a good while. He only waves a massive hand in greeting but does not address anyone with his telepathy.

Sharp shows up right on time wearing a set of black fatigues he must have liberated from one of the dead C.S. soldiers in Izmit. He was up drinking most of the night but does not look nearly as hung over as he should. It is hard to be a proper alcoholic with M.O.M. implants.