In reply to helbent4 (msg # 42):

The passenger riding shotgun got out. It was Rachel, an RCMP officer that had been assigned to the team and had since gone on to lead the ERT out of the government enclave at the University. Rachel was very familiar to all the older-serving members of the team. She was dressed in plainclothes: not quit casual, more like mercenary casual (boots, cargo pants, dark top, unmarked police-style Kevlar vest). Her RCMP-issue S&W 9mm was in a drop-holster on her thigh.

"Hi guys! Miss me? Love the new base!"

Kelsey pokes her head out of the new LAV at the sound of the vehicle approaching, then breaks into a big grin.  She quickly slides off the side of the LAV and onto her feet.

"Rachel!  What a surprise, what brings you out here?" 

Kel pays no mind to the tactical, the men in it.. or even the mule, she instead chooses to focus only on the passenger, rapidly approaching her.

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg # 44):

Perking up, Rachel sought her out, Smiled broadly walked over, grabbed Kel in a tight hug and said, "hey, I wanted to see you! Khandola told me to take some time off. I don't need to be back at UBC for a couple days at least. I figured, you know, we could spend some time together. And I wanted to see how everyone's doing." Inspector Kam Khandola was her boss at the UBC detachment, and while he expected the best was also considerate of his personnel's needs.
This message was last updated by the player at 19:49, Sun 09 Aug 2020.

Now that the expected addtitions to the team had arrived, Mac kicked into high gear, grilling the hamburgers and as they were ready, building them with what trimmings he'd managed - onions and a slaw, mostly. He also had some baked potatoes wrapped in foil.

Kelsey hugs Rachel back, lingers for a bit before letting her go.

"That's nice of him, tell him thanks for me too.  Bet Mac can set you up with a hamburger too, if you haven't eaten.  They aren't really giving us any time off before we roll out again, but you are welcome to stay a bit if you want."

She finally looks past.

"So.. who brought you here?  That technical our new rig?  Is that a ... mule?"  (She says 'mule' w/ French pronunciation 'MOOle'

She's not complaining about the technical, That's an M2, which speaks with excellent if rare authority around here.  She focuses on the men.. and the mule, and in the absence of Taras she will turn to greet them, but will tug on Rachel's hand a moment to keep her close.

"Gentlemen, I am sergente Champlain, second in command of this little gong show, our commander is Staff Sergeant Shevchenko, who should be back soon.  Introduce and report on your travel."

Where she had spoken casually till now, there was a snap and air of authority to her now.  She is wearing a standard CF infantry uniform with a beret that has a distinctive beaver crest emblazoned 'je me souviens' of the Royal 22nd Van Doos.  (Her glengary being kept in it's hat box for dress uniform wear)

"You need any help with anything Mac?  Feels like I'm just standing around doing nothing."

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg # 47):

"Going someplace? Aw, I thought you'd be staying put for a couple days." She looked genuinely puzzled, obviously word of the team's relocation was news to her.

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg # 47):

The man who most have not met before climbs off the bed of the pickup, after speaking softly to the mule. He towards Kelsey and extends his hand to shake her hand, speaking with a soft german accent;

Hello Champlain, I am Father Nikolaus, but you can call me Father Nick. I am a volunteer from the Red Cross to aid your team. I am a trained to take care of the body and soul of anyone in need. With my I have my mule, Bucephalus. The travels went well, thanks to the expertise and knowledge of my companions. The floods made us take a detour, but that is all. At least to me as a man of the cloth.

She shrugs slightly and shakes her head, looking apologetic.

"Sorry Rachael, last I heard we were rolling out again pretty quick.  But you are welcome to stay until we go.  Taras will have the full brief, maybe we will get a little time to shake down new equipment and get to know each other first."

She turns to the priest and when he takes one of her hands he finds it kinda... like holding a dead fish for a moment until she pulls it away with a bit of a grimace.

"Right... Father..." she closes, opens, closes her mouth.. seemingly at a loss for words.  "I am sure you will be a great comfort to some."  She manages to pull her expression back together into firmness.  "But I'm not Catholic."

Anyone watching won't have to think hard to see that a Catholic priest's mere presence bothers Champlain.  Her name, appearance.. and especially that Van Doos beret point to her being Quebecan, which means she is almost certainly Catholic.  Anyone that knows her would know her sexual orientation would be a reason she does not do well with the Catholic church.

Admittedly, the Canadian church had been more accepting overall... but many individual diocese do not.

NOTE, Kel's dog tags are tucked in her blouse, but her tattoos are very visible.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:56, Mon 10 Aug 2020.

Eric shoved a spent .50 casing under the butterfly trigger of the M2; an improvised safety, then hopped down from the bed, suppressed C8 still slung across his chest.  His entire uniform; from hiking boots to his unusual flecktarn fatigues, to his plate carrier and scrimmed helmet were well-used but also well-maintained.  His RCMP auxiliary windbreaker and credentials hanging around his neck gave away his origin.  He pulled off his PASGT and tucked it under one arm, walking over to Kelsey and shaking her hand as well once she finished with the clergy; a good strong grip.

"Aux Constable Wright.  I'm transferring in from HQ.  One vic, three pax counting me."

Champlain seems to be glad to shift away from the priest and takes Eric's hand in a surprisingly strong grip, especially for a woman, be even for a man.  Though seeing her closer, the woman was exceptionally well fit.

She speaks with a very Canadian English accent, but no trace of a French accent is noticeable.

"Welcome aboard Constable.  Our CO is also RCMP, a Staff Sergeant.  Always good to have you folks, you tend to be better with civilians than us military."

he chuckled a little to himself, not seeming t be bothered by her grip.

"Well, I'm actually a contractor from Ravenwood, not a real cop, but I've done a little of everything.  I'm lucky enough, I guess, to have seen the shit from the private sector, military & police sides." he said with a slight Texas twang.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:43, Mon 10 Aug 2020.

She smiles, but doesn't try to truly test his grip with hers, keeping it friendly.

"Ravenwood, huh?  Professional, certainly."  She smiles oddly.  "As long as... ah.. 'Avoir du front tout le tour de la tête'.. you are not.. impertinent."


She grins.. the translation is something like "To have a forehead around your head".

"Glad to have you aboard, what skills do you have?  Not a one of us wears but one hat."

He didn't shy away from her grip; keeping his poker face, keeping the fine line of neither shirking nor aggressing.

"There's a fine line between confidence & arrogance; experience helps one tell the difference though, eh?" he said with a slight smirk.
"I have a few talents.  I'm good with a longarm or a pistol, plus heavier weapons and a bit of experience on mortars.  Pretty good with open hand, closed hand and close-combat weapons too. Good at skulking about and okay with security systems.  Picked up some demo know-how doing de-mining & local insurgency. Pretty good mind for tactics.  Not to bad at talking to people either.  Or interrogations.  Have a bit of experience instructing combat skills too.  Picked up a trick or two from some cooking classes.  And uh, moy russkiy tozhe neplokhoy."

---

Roughly translated:
'My Russian isn't bad either.'
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Wed 12 Aug 2020.

She smiles, nods.. and shows no signs of understanding the Russian.

"Ah cooking, good.  Go introduce yourself to Mac, our chef.  He is fixing us all up a get to know you dinner."

She holds up one hand.. and did drop the shake at a reasonable time frame.

"How is your fieldcraft?"

"Decent to good.  Same for streetcraft.  Not much point in lugging around a can if you can't creep." he said, rapping his knuckle on his C8 with suppressor & grenade launcher.

He walked back to his truck, and pulled out a beat-up, closed cardboard box, swapping it out for his helmet.

"I expect y'all aren't gonna rat-fuck my truck while I'm working on a meal, right?" he asked with a smirk.

And with that he walked into the billet, seeking out the cook.

---

"Mac?  I'm one fo the new guys, Wright.  They send me to help you out?"

He found Mac quick enough; the sound & smell of cooking a pretty good indicator.  he slid in next to him in the kitchen.  He set his box down on the counter and unfolded the flaps on the top, revealing an eclectic mix of spices & seasonings, scavenged & bartered for.  He looked over at the hamburgers he was measuring out and looked through his box, pulling out a mason jar of dark liquid.

"Some this mixed in with the meat.  That'll add a little somethin' to it.

"Hello," said Mac.

Then he saw the box.

"Wow, that's quite the collection. I just had to make do with what I found here... what's this?"

He sniffed at the contents of the Mason jar.

“It’s more or less Worcestershire sauce.  Homemade by a guy I used to roll with out in Lilloet, so it’s a little stronger than the old-school stuff.  I got some crushed dried garlic in there too.  And some cayenne if your group is up to it.”

Eric moved his slung rifle to hang behind him instead of in front.

“The sauce & some garlic are pretty standard.  Cayenne isn’t, but a little gives it a nice bit of a kick, especially if you even it out with some veggies.”

"I used chopped onion, crushed garlic, and egg along with the mince," said Mac.

"And a dash of mustard. There wasn't much left. Try one..."

He selected a cooked patty off the grill and offered it to the newcomer.

Looks to the woman named Champlain, sensing that there is more to her than what shows. Especially so after seeing how firm her handshake was with his road companion. But. There is a time and place for all things, this was neither to try and understand the painful burden on her soul. He simply smiled and made his excuses to go and tend to Bucephalus.

He knew that when he volunteered for duty tjat he would need to heal both the corporal bodies and souls of those the team met. He did not quite expect that he would need to heam the souls of his team.

Speaking softly to his mule, possibly overheard by those near or with good ears;
"As you carry my burden, I will need to share the burden of my companions."

Keith shrugs his shoulders at Mac and goes to find a seat.

Stan wandered over to where mac was cooking and introduced himself to the new guy.

"Hey there. Stan Abbot. Corporal. Good to have another troop in the squad."

Eric nodded, taking the proffered meat, taking a bit.

"That's good; the mustard is nice." he said, taking another several bites.
"I think I have a little ground mustard seed in there somewhere.  It's really a mix; whatever I could find or barter.  Some homemade concoctions.  And it does generally trend towards my own palate.  Need any help with anything else for the meal?"

Mac grinned.

"Perhaps you'd like to dish up the baked potatoes... they're in there, in foil."

He pointed, then turned to greet the other newcomer.

"Hello, Corp. I'm Mac, sometimes sniper, sometimes cook."

Eric turned to shake Stan's hand, giving him a warm grin.

"Good to meet ya.  I'm glad to be goin' back to the field.  Y'all look like a pretty squared-away bunch."

He turned back, starting on the baked taters as Mac directed.

"Good.  Precision fire makes a difference.  Myself, I do a little of everything.  Mostly a shooter; good on infantry arms up to & including mortars, close combat, plus some fieldcraft & streetcraft, demo, did some instructor time too."