|
|
| This thread is on the eve of closing. Is anyone interested in saving it by being the new mod? |
| Mod me! |
|
0% |
[ 0 ] |
| T.T |
|
100% |
[ 1 ] |
| Good riddance |
|
0% |
[ 0 ] |
|
| Total Votes : 1 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:51 am
Currently: Under construction ✦ Open ✦ Closed ✦ Not yet accepting ✦ Accepting ✦ Full ✦ No longer accepting
Created by: Ra Ra Rumpleteaser
Moderated by: Ra Ra Rumpleteaser
References from: 1001 Sci-Fi Weapons₁ and the D20 Modern Series₂
IC thread
Profile thread
OOC thread
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:52 am
STORY The year is 2337AD, or 145AE (Anno Exodus).
It's been 145 years since the Earth was deemed too ravaged to sustain human life. Solar radiation, nuclear wastelands, ultra-high temperatures and oceans engulfing the land, these were all things nature evolved to withstand but we did not. We chose to adapt our environment more and more rather than let Mother Nature change who we were as humans. Finally, we could no longer bare the forces we fought against, the forces we had put in motion. In one week, eight billion people took to the skies in a mass exodus.
We fled. We fled on any vessel strong enough to escape the Earth's orbit, bound for the only colonies capable of sustaining such large numbers. These colonies were on Mars, Space Station Omega and the Moon. Only twelve-million people chose to remain on the last inhabitable continent on Earth, Antarctica, and the small "bubble communities" pocketed in havens throughout the globe. Many of the bubble communities did not last a decade.
And so, humans are split into five groups: the Martians of the Mars, the Populi Luna of the Moon, the Citizens of Space Station Omega (which currently orbits Mars), the Polarii of the Polar Region and sixteen autonomous bubble communities in the Southern Ocean.
For many decades, a peace reigned throughout the five nations. Each had its wares to trade; each was able to support its growing community. It is a shame this peace did not last. Negotiations between the Citizens of Space Station Omega (SSΩ) and the other groups became tense. SSΩ had reached its holding capacity and the Polarii did not appreciate being turned to for immigration. The Citizens were known not only for their superior cybernetics but for their criminals. Constricted living arrangements meant coupled with the rise in human modification meant that they considered unadulterated humans to be "unevolved" and even looked to them for spare parts. As such, a roaring cybernetics hack trade burst forth. Cybernetic hacks₂ were blackmarket specialists in replacements, enhancements and implants. They take organs, limbs and cybernetics from living or recently dead bodies without a care to who the person may be. It is for this reason the Polar Region closed its borders to anyone born on or coming from SSΩ.
Taking the Polarii's actions as a threat of war, the Citizens sent a pre-emptive attack to the largest agricultural centre on Earth. The attack wiped out nearly half of the Polar Region's food supply, thus decimating the nation's main source of trade. They had enough to last until the ground could be rehabilitated and the food regrown but in the meantime they had very little to export. The government's credit (the universal currency) has reduced by half, making it hard for them to build on their military. To make matters worse, the Citizens joined forces with their closest allies and neighbours, the Martians. Though the Martians have yet to engage in the war, the foreboding of their attack is ever real to the Polarii.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:54 am
SETTING Radiodurans (see image) is the capital city of the Polar Region, a place where 60% of the Polarii live. Unlike the Martian capital city, Radiodurans does not have distinct districts. Instead, it is a spread of intermingling shops, government buildings, apartment blocks and everything else important to the Polarii lifestyle. The only buildings that are grouped together in some sort of order are the military buildings, which can be found on the Prime Meridian side of the city. Being on the South Pole means the Polarii use polar coordinates rather than the conventional north, south, east and west. Northward to them is going towards the Polar Border and beyond while southward is going to the approximate centre of their homeland. The four chief directions for polar coordinates are 0ﾟ (Prime Meridian), 90ﾟ, 180ﾟ and 270ﾟ.
Within a month of turning ten years old, all children in the Births and Deaths Registry undergo a series of tests run by the government. These tests are designed to identify what a child is most interested in and what is their best course of training. Those who are offered a place in the military undertake an accelerated educational program. At age fourteen, the top twenty per cent in each birth month are implanted with a cybernetic headband that induces technopathy. Upon completion of a practical education program, they are able to control most space vessels, communicate with others with headsets and access information by thought alone.
After graduating from the Polar Region Military Academy (PRMA), the young soldiers are given twin-shared apartments in the Radiodurans Enlisted Barracks (REB). Both these buildings are part of the Radiodurans Military Complex, which is made up of six buildings: the military academy, the barracks, the research facility, the main building, the military factory and the general purpose building (to be expanded). It is in these six buildings this thread is based.
PLACES
PRMA: A large, dome shaped building where recruits are tested, trained, taught and housed. They are allowed to request leave or visits to the general purpose building. The bottom layers are for recruit housing, eating and general life. Next comes classrooms, practice laboratories and training rooms, then the artificial simulation rooms. Finally comes the large dome, which acts as a massive gymnasium, student observatory and anything else that requires a massive space. The dome can even open up and be used as a landing site for student demonstrations and space vessel operating practice.
REB: A multistory building where the enlisted soldiers live. The outside of the building is a vertical garden, much like the style of many buildings in the Polar Region. It and the other vertical gardens in the military complex grow 40-50% of the inhabitants fruit and vegetable requirements. Each apartment has three to four bedrooms, a study, a kitchenette, a tiny bathroom and a living area. The couch in the living area folds out in case a guest is requested.
Sir Walter Binovera Research Facility: This is where new technologies are created and tested before being implemented by the military. This building works in partnership with Radiodurans University, the second largest university in the city.
The Polar Region Military Block (PRMB): This is the man building, where the soldiers work and undergo any extra training. The administration takes up the bottom seven levels and the rest of the building is for military operations. It too has a dome but it is much taller than the academy building, thus getting less light interference.
The Military Factory: This is where all vessels and large equipment are built and stored. It is composed of many hangers that open on the sides of the building and factory floors on the lower levels.
General Purpose Block: This building contains a hospital, vertical gardens, officer's living quarters, brasserie (where they actually have good food), general supplies and anything else the soldiers may need to live. The officer's living quarters are either two bedroom or one bedroom apartments. This is the only building where civilians are allowed, though there is a ton of paperwork to go through for them to come in. The officer's children are allowed to live in the General Purpose Block but they must be supervised when not in their apartment.
Aurora Australis: The biggest shopping mall close to the military base. It has every kind of store imaginable and even two cinemas: a flat screen and a 20625 steradian (3D and hemisphere). It is named after the Southern Lights, which can be seen throughout the Polar Region. Recruits and enlisted soldiers need to file a request before leaving the military complex. This is just background information; you don't actually have to send a request to me.
INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS
The Martians have offered their aid to the Citizens, seeing it as an investment in recolonisation of Earth. So far their aid has come in the form of finances, raw metals and food supplies. They have not yet attacked the Polarii because they are far more concerned with sustainably inhabiting Mars and expanding their colonies across the planet. They are also more concerned with upgrading their border security in preparation for the possibility of going to war.
SSΩ is over-packed and the Citizens are unable to grow enough food to sustain their population. They have to rely on imports from the other nations, which means pumping out as much cybernetics as possible. Mass producing quality exports is hard work for an overcrowded space ship. There's increasing crime and they need a way out. They believe the Polarii's ban on immigration is unfair, as it judges the entire nation by the actions of the few. The Polarii are being greedy and not allowing immigration. SSΩ is down to its last resort: war.
The Populi Luna resolutely remain neutral. Unfortunately, this does not mean they are unaffected. There is a lot of tension on the Moon because people fear that Mars and SSΩ will attack them if the attacks on the Polar Region fail. After all, they and the Polarii have the longest standing infrastructure. Both places were colonised before the Exodus and have the most successful agricultural efforts. SSΩ could easily use the Moon as a stepping stone to the Polar Region. Despite this, the Populi Luna are neutral and have no intention to sway their neutrality. They do not send aid or assist either side, they do not have secret agencies set up to help either side and they do not attend war negotiations. Why, you may ask? Being neutral means they are able to trade freely with either side. It means the possibility of invasion by the Citizens is neither inevitable nor imminent. This said, it is not impossible that sympathetic merchants or support groups help one side or the other. They do this beyond the knowledge of the government or law enforcement and any person or group doing so is given a slap on the wrist for endangering the nation's safety.
The bubble communities cannot live without trade with the Polar Region. They don't have the technology to leave the Earth's atmosphere without the Polarii and often send convoys to and from the Polar Region for aid. They do not have the political or monetary power to defend themselves from human attack. Already rumours have reached the Polarii that the Citizens have taken control of a few communities.
TECHNOLOGY
✦XXXCyborg: anything controlled by a biological central nervous system and has cybernetic adaptations. This includes animals.
✦XXXUnadulterated human: a human without implants (as opposed to grafts). They are also known as "naturals".
✦XXXAnimal derived biological implants: animal organs grown in situ to have the cell membrane and surface antigens of the recipient. They are a safer way to accept animal organs than by organ transplants, which require immunosupressant drugs.
✦XXXCell culture derived grafts: human organ grafts specifically designed to be universal or specific to the recipient. They negate the need for immunosupressant drugs.
✦XXXInduced technopathy: a cybernetic enhancement that allows organisms with central nervous systems to directly communicate with and control technology. The implant responsible acts as part of the sensory and somatic nervous systems. It sends and receives signals between other devices. These devices are often gated and encoded for security and privacy reasons. Gated and encoded devices require skill, patience and force to get into but it is possible. Induced technopathy has not yet reached mainstream culture. It is restricted to the military but some devices are available over the blackmarket.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:55 am
RULES ✦XXXObey the ToS and Guild rules.
✦XXXYour reservation and profile must be accepted before you post in the IC thread.
✦XXXMention any changes to your profile in the OOC.
✦XXXNo godmoding, autohitting, autoblocking or puppeteering.
✦XXXPlease be at least semi-literate.
✦XXXDon't leave people in post lock.
✦XXXObey the laws of science. This means no time travel, warp speed or fully suspended animation. Semi-suspended animation (slowing down of the body's processes) is possible.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:56 am
SKELETONS RESERVATION CODE[imgleft](100x100 image)[/imgleft][size=11][color=white]XXX[/color][/size][size=16](Reservation title)[/size]
[size=11][color=white]XXX[/color](Character's name)
[color=white]XXX[/color](Age)
[color=white]XXX[/color](Description, description, description, description, description)
[color=white]XXX[/color]✦✦✦✦✦ (Posting colours)
[color=white]XXX[/color](Username)[/size] PROFILE CODE[size=16][b][u](Reservation title)[color=white]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX[/color][/u][/b][/size]
[align=center][img](Image of any style)[/img][/align]
[size=11][color=POSTING COLOUR]Name: (Character's full name)
Occupation: (What does your character do for credit?)
Age: (Self explanatory)[/color][/size]
[size=14][b][u]Statistics[color=white]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX[/color][/u][/b][/size]
[size=11][color=POSTING COLOUR]Weapons: (Insert weapons here)
Enhancements: (Insert any other cybernetics and animal derived biological implants here)
Strengths: (What does your character do well?)
Weaknesses: (What hindrances, failures, faults does your character have? What does your character do poorly?)[/color][/size]
[size=14][b][u]Biography[color=white]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-[/color][/u][/b][/size]
[size=11][color=POSTING COLOUR](Insert biography here)[/color][/size]
[size=14][b][u]Personality[color=white]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX[/color][/u][/b][/size]
[size=11][color=POSTING COLOUR](Insert personality here)[/color][/size]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:57 am
RESERVATIONS  XXXMilitary DoctorXXXDr Zeidorzha Backofen
XXXForty-seven
XXXStern, blunt, uncaring, practical, smoker
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXRa Ra Rumpleteaser XXXThe MechanicXXXJason ‘Grease’ Fletcher
XXX26
XXXOptimistic, smoker, perfectionist, simple minded, slightly dense
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXKaze Kaiser XXXThe Techie XXXAnnabelle 'Flicks' Ross
XXXTwenty Two
XXXIntelligent, Alcoholic, Arrogant, Calm, Self Reliant
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXiAriana-x XXXThe Spec OpXXXAlexander Emery
XXXTwenty-nine
XXXKind, Light-hearted, Protective, Playful, Amnestic
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXIIx AcidicAddiction xII XXXThe Young LieutenantXXXOsiris Ramakhen
XXXTwenty-three
XXXLaconic, Alcoholic, Leader, Flirtatious, Gun Nut
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXSweetcoco26 XXXReservation titleXXXCharacter's name
XXXAge
XXXDescription, description, description, description, description
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXUsernameXXXReservation titleXXXCharacter's name
XXXAge
XXXDescription, description, description, description, description
XXX✦✦✦✦✦
XXXUsername
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:58 am
ANNOUNCEMENTS XXX✦XXXFri Jun 17, 2011 12:56 amXXX✦XXXThe thread is now under construction. Everyone is welcome to chat in the OOC. Any additions, subtractions and changes are welcome. Thank you.XXX✦XXXSat Jun 25, 2011 6:32 amXXX✦XXXProfiles and reservations are now being accepted. Good luck guys!XXX✦XXXSat Jun 25, 2011 6:48 pmXXX✦XXXThe thread is now open.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 1:59 am
PLOTS XXX✦XXXFri Jun 17, 2011 1:22 pmXXX✦XXXNo plots yet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 2:00 am
RANKS O-10 General
O-9 Lieutenant General
O-8 Major General
O-7 Brigadier General
O-6 Colonel
O-5 Lieutenant Colonel
O-4 Major
O-3 Captain
O-2 Lieutenant First Class
O-1 Lieutenant
E-9 Command Sergeant Major*
E-8 Sergeant Major
E-7 Master Sergeant
E-6 Sergeant First Class
E-5 Sergeant
E-4 Corporal First Class^
E-3 Corporal
E-2 Private First Class
E-1 Private
R-5 Technopath Recruit*
R-4 Recruit First Class^
R-3 Recruit Second Class
R-2 Recruit Third Class
R-1 Recruit Fourth Class
Players may choose their character's rank, though it isn't necessary. This is just as a guide. Recruits spend exactly two years at reach rank from R-1 to R-3 then at least one year in R-4. R-4 is a completely practical rank and graduation from this rank may take anywhere from one to an infinite number of years, depending on whether the candidate can pass their practical assessments. They are a minimum of seventeen years old All military assessments happen in the month of their birthday, resists happen two months after. The optional R-5 level takes a year to two years but is far more intensive than the other years because students graduate to being a rank O-1. This means they are officers and have authority to command enlisted soldiers and civilians.
* ^ These ranks are considered equal. Graduating technopaths enter at lieutenant level. Graduating recruits enter at sergeant level. Civilians enter at private level, unless they have prior qualifications. Depending on the qualification, they may enter at sergeant or lieutenant level.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 2:01 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 2:02 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2011 6:30 pm
✚XXXZeidorzha BackofenXXX✚XXXmilitary doctorXXX✚
 Damn rookies, Zeidorzha thought as he unwrapped the bandages on his latest patient. In his opinion, medics didn't have nearly enough training to properly do their job and the two boys who had been sent on the mission had been greener than a pair of seed leaves. True, they had not expected to be attacked but it frustrated Dr Backofen that a senior medic hadn't been sent out with the greenies. This was why, to Dr Backofen's frustration, a man had been sent to him with incorrectly bandaged legs.
The man had obviously been hit with shrapnel in his calves and buttocks, which was as expected from what Zeidorzha guessed from the report he'd received. The thing that frustrated Zeidorzha was that the men had pulled out every single piece of shrapnel and protruding metal, which had only endangered the life of the man now lying face-down on Zeidorzha's operating table. Zeidorzha was half inclined to speak to whoever had taught the young medics.
Zeidorzha did the finishing stitches on the last of the gaping holes in the man's legs and washed the surface over once more with an iodine rinse. Without padding the wounds dry, he re-bandaged the legs then wheeled the man over to a fully body machine. The man was slid inside the machine, which hummed softly and emitted a violet light. Within minutes the man's wounds would be healed and the man could be taken to the General Care Ward. Zeidorzha washed both pairs of hands then wrote on the man's chart, requesting one nutrient IV and one haemoglobin IV.
✚XXX✚XXX✚
The mess hall was a hive of activity, as usual. Everywhere small groups of men and women were leaning over "health food" plates, which meant more vegetables than Zeidorzha cared to stick in his mouth. The groups were talking about everything from comparing injuries to that woman in administration to their last trip out of the facility. When he looked around, they all seemed so young. Perhaps I'm just getting old, he thought, then dismissed the idea. Any man below twenty-five was still a boy in his books.✚XXXHarden the ******** up or stay out of the military.XXX✚
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Invisible Conversationalist
|
Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 11:33 am
 AηnαҌeɭɭeƑɭıcƙsRөsᵴ
The ᵀᴱcᴴᴵᴱ
"What in the hell did you idiots do to this?! I just had it repaired last week!" Flicks almost screached, then sighed, pushing herself out from under the wires of the computer to stand and glare at the tech rookies, with bright green, flickering eyes. A few were giggling immaturely at her voice, but a angry clearing of her throat seemed to shut them up.
God, she hated people.
One of the more braver newbies spook up. "Well maybe you didn--" but he was quickly cut off with a intensified glare, as she zoomed in on the kid, focusing her eyesight. "Oh don't you even try to go there with me you little nit. I know what the hell I'm doing. I could fix this crap with my eyes closed, my hands tied, and my damn technopathy removed. So don't you even pull that card kid." This quickly shut the boy up. With a light growl in her not-so-natural throat, Flicks turned too the bot hovering beside her, whilst flicking a bit of long, white hair from her face. "Spector, record. Go tell Gadget that I'm not doing anymore jobs on the west wing. It runs my damn blood pressure up to high working with these stupid recruits.." The little droid beeped and fluttered off from the room.
Flicks cracked her left hand knuckle, as she made her way back to the monitor. She sighed irritatedly, placing her hand on the top of it and closed her eyes, using her technopathic enhancement to repair the problem with the system. The problem itself was easy. So simple in fact, that she could have fixed it on her own, without the use of technopathy. But damn it, she was too irritated and too sick of these recruits to remain her any longer. She just wanted the job done.
--------------------------
Back in her chair, in front of her monitor, Flicks was busy completing the report on her repair earlier for the records. She didn't turn around when she heard the footsteps walk up behind her and stop. She knew who it was before he even spoke. "You should really learn to be a little more social Flicks. Maybe even nicer to the new recruits, eh?"
She sneered, hitting print on her finished report. "Yeah, right. That's not gonna happen Gadget." the white-haired girl rolled her cybernetic eyes, as she moved to stand, walking past the taller, brunette male, but he grabbed her arm before she could get too far, halting her. Flicks turned, giving him a glare that had almost no effect on him. Gladius sighed and lightly dragged the girl to his office.
Gadget began calmly. "Anna, you can't just blow up at every person who happens to piss you off. You're not any more important than the others here. Jus-" he was quickly cut off.
"Don't call me that, damn it. And don't start with this speech again, I know the lines. Not interested." she stared at him, her eyes blank.
"Flicks, you almost made one of them cry. And you called them all stupid recruits. That's offensive. " She folded her arms defiantly. Not nearly as offensive as the things I wanted to say.. Her glare on him hardened. "I'm not doing anymore repairs for rookies. They need their own technopath. Send Skitter or someone else." she shrugged a little, referring to the perky, but clumsy technopath apart of their group.
As she turned to leave, he stood to tried again, this time with the authority he possessed as a leader. "Annabelle, you'll do what I say under my orders. That's final. I'm your superior and commanding leader. Is this understood?" Flicks balled her fists and bit her lower lip to keep from going off. "Yes... sir." reluctantly forced its way from her lips, bitterly. Before Gladius could say anything else, she left. The slam of the door made him wince a little.
Spector, seeing Flicks walking off to leave, quickly followed after its creator, fluttering at her side. she grumbled, making her way down to the mess hall, knowing good and well that the food they served would make her more angry. Honestly it wasn't even good food. Just fruits and vegetables. Spector dodged a few people, keeping up with Flicks as she weaved her small figure through the mass of soldiers and military operatives.
"Well excuuussee me for being ********> honest. Christ!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 6:28 pm
Jason 'Grease' Fletcher. The Mechanic
"Here it is boys!" Grease roared as he slammed a cardboard box down onto the steel bench, "The newest cybernetic parts, straight from the boss!" The boys all dropped what they were doing and gathered around the box. "No way!" Nixon, the youngest of the team, exclaimed, "these weren't due in till next week! How didja get your hands on this stuff?!" But Nixon wasn't really interested in a reply, because he had already started rummaging through the box. "Nice work, Grease!" yelled Skeet, as he slammed his hand against Grease's back in triumph. As the team all spread around the box and pulled out new Gadgets, Dex, the quietest of the boys, stood back and beckoned for Grease to come close. Grease waltzed over, a smirk spread across his face as he reached the young man."What's up, Dex?" he said smugly.
"You know damn well what's up," Dex said quietly, a small smile forming on his lips, "you nicked those from the boss, didn't you?" He looked up at Grease with his eyebrows raised. "I prefer to call it getting ahead" Grease replied, still grinning.
"Now boys!" Grease roared over the commotion to his team, "l think we can all agree that this is gonna get us ahead of the guys in the C wing, so what happens in the garage, stay in the garage. Got it?"
"Got it!" The boys all yelled in unison, as they gathered together the gadgets they'd need and disassembled to their own benches. Grease picked up the leftover parts and strode over to his messy bench. There were blue prints and old gizmos that had piled up into the result of every project Grease had ever worked on. He rolled up his sleeves and cleared the table and dumped down his new toys. His latest assignment was creating a biomechanical shoulder and leg, for a rookie soldier that was stupid enough to step on a land mine, and these parts were exactly what he would need.
----------------------------------------------------
"See ya, Grease!" Nixon and Blink said as they passed Grease's bench and walked out the garage door. Grease looked up, startled, and gazed around the room. There was almost nobody left. "Oi Smog! What time is it!?" He bellowed across the room. "Lunch time, dumbass!" Smog yelled back. Smog was the oldest of the team and even though he was only thirty four, he had a hot temper. Grease's face twisted into a frown. He hated lunch. How the hell was a mechanic supposed to live off vegetables and water? It was ridiculous.
Grease picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. Maybe Hero had smuggled in some chocolate or meat again? It had been a while before Grease had a good steak, and thinking about it just made his mouth water. He walked down the hall and stepped casually into the mess hall. You had to be inconspicuous when dealing with food smuggling. If the military found out, it would be off with your head! Grease picked up a red apple and sat down where the rest of his team always sat. The boys all had their heads bowed low, and Wicker nudged Grease in the ribs, bringing him down to their level. "He's got the stuff" Wicker breathed as a smile formed on Grease's dirty face.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 6:09 pm
✚XXXZeidorzha BackofenXXX✚XXXmilitary doctorXXX✚
Zeidorzha was about to sit down when a burst of noise came from one of the tables. A quick glance at the men's uniforms told him they were all recruits. Either they were part of a class excursion or were on work experience. Either way, Zeidorzha had an irritation with recruits that he just had to scratch. He put his plate of "vegetable pie" on the table and walked over.
'Attention!'
The men (and women) jumped then stood erect. That was good. At least they'd had basic orders drilled into them. The doctor stood to study them. Their uniforms were well pressed and the only marks on their uniforms looked like ones from working in various sections of the military base, which meant they were here on some sort of work experience. Over all, their presentation was acceptable but not immaculate.
'Which of you are here on a medic work placement? Step forward.' he ordered.
Two men and one woman stepped forward.
'Where are you situated? You first,' he said, pointing to the closest man.
The young woman saluted then said, 'Yessir! The three of us just got off a three-day assignment to one of the satellites.... Sir!'
'Which one?'
'Classified information, Sir!'
'Were there any casualties?'
'Nosir!'
Zerdorzha then turned to the next recruit who had stepped forward.
'How do you dress a lesion to the thigh in a safe zone?'
'Wash the wound with saline solution, place a sterile pad over the wound and wrap a compression bandage covering the pad. Sir!'
'Correct.'
Zeidorzha moved to the third recruit who'd stepped forward.
'How do you bandage a lesion with a protruding object?'
'You remo-'
'Incorrect! Never remove embedded or protruding objects. Why is that?'
The man looked straight forward but it was obvious he was ill at ease. He had to think for a moment before speaking.
'Sir! You risk infecting the wound and ... disrupting the clot. Sir!'
'Never show uncertainty. If I were a Citizen I could crack you open like* a fresh tin of coffee. I will not see weak medics who can't properly dress a wound in this military base. What is your rank and name? Expect to be reprimanded by your training officer.'
'Yessir! R-3 Jesse Vivero Bouher, Sir!'
Zeidorzha eyed the recruit, not saying that he thought Jesse to be a gir's name.
'Dismissed.'
The group visibly relaxed and Zeidorzha walked away. How men like that passed their exams, he'd never know. People like that were dangerous. They were cowardly and useless, much like his son, but that was another vein of thought entirely. His son had not gotten into the army and frankly, Zeidorzha was glad. As such, he didn't have to see the kid more than two or three times per year.
Just as Zeidorzha was about to sit down, for a second time something caught his attention that he didn't like: Flicks. Flicks was a technopath, which meant she'd been able to enter the military at an officer's rank. There were three things Zeidorzha didn't like about this: one, he hadn't made it into the technopath training, two, she'd graduated at a higher rank than he had and three, she chose not to go into active service. What was the point of being trained to be an officer who could control ships if you didn't do active service?
OOC: *I am totally thinking "a fresh can of napalm in the morning."✚XXXHarden the ******** up or stay out of the military.XXX✚
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
