UNSC Dominion, Sickbay
November 3rd, 2133 Local Time, 2552
During Ben's stay in the sickbay, he had been doing his best to pass the time by researching the capabilities that were offered by Aura, most notably, those related to healing injuries. He'd already seen Aura's healing abilities in action before, but he'd also seen how there were some injuries that Aura couldn't heal, at least, not with any significant speed.
As it turned out, his observations were largely indicative of what he should have expected. A trained Aura user could easily heal something like a small laceration, but something like a ruptured organ or a fractured bone was well beyond an Aura's ability to rapidly heal. Sure, they would help the user recover a little bit faster, but in the end, proper medical care was still necessary.
At least I'm not missing out on too much in that department. He thought, lamenting Aura's pseudo-scientific nature for the millionth time, as well as the fact that he had apparently drawn the shortest of possible straws in terms of aura reserves.
As he read more about the topic, he did learn about a couple of individuals, not all of whom were Huntsmen, who had Semblances related to healing. Meadows had apparently met a Huntress with such a Semblance during the Vytal conference, and she had managed to fix his badly-mangled leg in less than half an hour, a feat that even the UNSC's finest Doctors couldn't match. Unfortunately, he couldn't ask Meadows more about it, since he was in Menagerie.
"Hey Ben!" He looked up from his datapad to see Penny at his bedside. "I figured that you might be a bit lonely, so I came to keep you company for a while!"
"Thanks Penny." He replied, but was confused at why she was alone. "I don't mean to be rude, but where's Curie?"
"She's busy working with the Engineer down in the Foundry." Penny said with a smile, but he must not have done a very good job at concealing his reaction, because she stared at him with a contemplative expression. A moment later her eyes lit up as if uncovering some great secret. "There is no need to be jealous, Benjamin! Funk is very nice!"
"...Funk?" Ben tentatively asked.
"Affirmative! We all agreed that "Functions Inconsistently" was a bit of a mouthful, and one of the Marines suggested that we could just call him Funk." Penny explained. "I think it is pretty cute, and he seems to like it."
Oh, the Marines gave it a pet name, wonderful. Ben thought. "I don't get why everyone's so eager to trust that thing. If the Elite summoned it, we shouldn't just be giving it free reign of the ship, it could be dangerous!"
Penny crossed her arms in frustration. "You worry too much! Funk might look a little different, but he wouldn't hurt anybody. He wouldn't even kill a cockroach that was nesting in an old computer that Curie brought him."
That caught him somewhat off guard. He'd known that Engineers weren't exactly frontline fighters, but from what Penny was saying, it sounded like they just couldn't commit acts of violence in general. "Really?"
"Indeed. Funk wouldn't even touch it, so Curie had to move it." Penny added. "I know that you are worried, I am told that your humanity is at war with a lot of aliens, but Funk is different! If it is of any help, Curie trusts him!"
Of course she does. Ben thought with no small degree of exasperation. Still, he'd learned to trust Curie's judgement, and he knew that she wouldn't put the Dominion or its crew into any unnecessary danger. "Fine, I suppose I could give it a chance."
"Sen-sational! I know you are a bit… opposed, towards him, but this is a good first step!" Penny exclaimed. "We have only been able to get Funk to talk to us two times so far, but he will talk to Set all day long! Curie thinks it is because Set summoned him, but I think he just gets a little nervous with everybody looking at him, he seems a little shy."
"Shy?" Ben asked. "The ONI records that Curie dug up indicated that they don't have much of a social structure."
"Well, that would certainly explain why." Penny thoughtfully remarked. "But even though he doesn't talk much, he is really helpful... Actually, now that I think about it, that is kind of all that he does. I am unable to recall if I have ever even seen him eat anything. Maybe he doesn't need to?"
"He is an alien, they're bound to work a little differently from you or me." Ben reminded her. "What about Set? Have you talked to him yet?"
Penny awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "I did, but I do not wish to talk about him behind his back…"
Oh, great. She's made friends with the sassy one too. Ben thought, although he had no interest in antagonizing Penny again, so he kept that comment to himself. "That's fine. We've all got things that we don't like talking about."
"I suppose that is true." Penny replied. "Since I am unable to tell you about Set, do you want to hear about the time that Ruby and I stopped a Dust robbery?"
His curiosity was admittedly peaked, and before long, she was recounting a grand tale about a fantastical dockside skirmish against a Crime Boss and the White Fang. In another time, Ben would've dismissed it all as fabricated, if somewhat inventive. Now, he knew better than to doubt the wild world of Remnant, or the somewhat mad people that lived there, especially those that were his friends.
UNSC Thunderchild, Menagerie Territorial Waters
November 4th, 1301 Local Time, 2552
Out of all the titles that Margaret "Mags" Jackson had earned over her life, there was none that she held in higher regard than "Captain of the Thunderchild". As much as she would have liked to claim that it was because she had worked very hard for the position, which she certainly had, the truth of the matter was far more simple. She just loved her ship. It was her most prized possession, a symbol of everything that she loved and held dear.
The Thunderchild was a true veteran, not unlike an old Huntsmen, with more than a few good scars and stories to tell. It was one of the very few vessels that was still around from the time of the Faunus Revolution, and amongst them, she was likely the most legendary. After all, Mags had yet to hear a good shanty about any of Atlas's airships, but she'd heard half a dozen about the Thunderchild and the ships that she'd served beside during the Faunus Revolution.
Every chance that she could get, she'd climb out of her old captain's chair and walk down to the forecastle, leaning over the railing enjoying the gentle spray of ocean mist and the cold calming winds that perfectly matched the hot Menagerie Sun. There was no other place in the world that she would rather be, where she felt more at ease and in control. Today, however, there would be no room for such pleasantries, as this cruise was no ordinary patrol.
Jorge and Captain Clark had pitched the idea of hosting a couple of training exercises or "wargames" as they put it, to freshen up everybody's skills in preparation for the inevitable battles with the White Fang that awaited them in the future. Beneath those professional words, however, was an unspoken challenge, a belief that the two Human Officers were unwilling to admit perhaps even to themselves.
"We don't have faith in your crew, and we'd like you to prove that they're as good as you've claimed."
As any good captain should, she took great pride in the brave men and women under her command. She had Faunus from every corner of Menagerie managing the boilers, manning the guns, even sharpening up the fine white paint. There were even a handful of Humans amongst the crew, with Stan being the most obvious example, although she hadn't selected them for the sake of diversity.
Every member of the crew was hired purely because of their talents and merits, and in that regard, they were in no short supply. Most of them had years of experience manning their posts, and all of them were qualified for their roles, so having them be demeaned like that… was undeniably an insult. Even so, it was an insult made with good intentions, the UNSC had all the reason in the world to be concerned about the White Fang.
With that in mind, she'd agreed to the proposal, as a bit of practice could help sharpen up even an already skilled crew, and it offered the perfect opportunity for her little band of sailors to prove that they were no amateurs. "Oh sure, we'd be happy to kick your butts! What's a good time for ya?"
Oh, they'd given a hearty laugh at her "joke," but she had caught the look of realization that had flashed in Jorge's eyes. He knew that she was going to put up a stiff fight, and she also knew that a man like Jorge wasn't going to roll over and lose easily, even for something with no real stakes like a training exercise. It was going to be a serious challenge.
Of course, not every training exercise that they had planned involved going head-to-head with the UNSC, and so they'd started off the day with the basics. Getting the ship cleared for action was something that she and Stan had already feverishly drilled the crew on for years, and he had done a good job at keeping them sharp while she was away working with the UNSC.
After that, they sent all of the Engineers and dockworkers ashore for the day, fired up the boilers, and steamed out of the harbor to open waters. The next exercises would all take place at sea and would start with Mags and Stan drilling their crew on all of the Thunderchild's weapons. Thankfully, the weather was marvelous, with a calm sea and hardly a cloud in the sky.
What a perfect day to make a little ruckus. She thought with a wild grin.
The true test of skill would come in the form of a boarding action, undertaken by the UNSC's Marines and personally led by Jorge's Team. The mock-ambush wasn't going to be a total surprise, as the whole crew had been given a briefing on all of the things that they could and could not do during the fighting, as well as being issued training rounds by the UNSC, but the actual time of the attack was left a mystery to mimic the White Fang's ambush tactics.
The UNSC had also intentionally neglected to mention how they would be boarding the ship, but it wasn't exactly hard to guess. Without any ships of their own, the UNSC would be reliant on airborne transport, likely their Pelican Dropships. Seeing how there wasn't any kind of landing pad on the Thunderchild, they would also likely have to deploy their Marines by descending a rope, a bit like Atlas' soldiers did. As such, that was what her crew had trained around, if the UNSC attempted to board in some other manner, they would just have to improvise.
I suppose they could have rented a few small boats for the sake of emulating the White Fang's tactics… Mags thought, before shaking her head clear of the useless speculation, it was a bit too late to think up entirely new strategies now.
"Captain." Stan's voice captured her attention amongst the general noise that the bridge crew was making. "We're about seven er… "kilometers" away from Kuo Kuana. We should be coming up on the first targets now."
It's nice that he's trying to learn. She thought, knowing that it couldn't be easy for an old seadog like him to learn an entirely new measurement system. "Be honest Stan, did you actually do the math, or did you just use that new rangefinder?"
Stan gave a guilty chuckle and smiled. "Hey now, you can't fault me for being excited! That thing's amazing! No calculator needed, ya just push a button, and boom, you've got your range, it's like magic!"
"Fancy tech ain't an excuse to let your mind go numb. Still, you're right, it's a wonderful little tool isn't it?" She rhetorically asked. "Now if you'd be so kind, hop on the horn and make sure the guns are ready to get to work. I ain't about to get humiliated while we're shooting at stationary targets, understood?"
"Aye aye, Captain!" He replied, reaching for the ship's intercom and barking out orders to get the Thunderchild's two twelve-inch guns cleared to fire.
The UNSC had been kind enough to donate a handful of great big balloons to serve as hard targets for their little training cruise. Apparently, they were already intended to serve as targets, only for land-based artillery practice. However, given that they were suitably buoyant, they could also take on the role of a naval target.
Let's see if that new rangefinder is all that it's cracked up to be. Mags thought. She'd admittedly been a little sad to see the old rangefinder come down from its post, but in theory, the new system was a straight improvement.
"I've got eyes on the first target, marking it with the laser!" The ship's lookout, a Falcon Faunus named Philipe, called out. "About four kilometers out!"
The turret turned to face the target only a few seconds later, simultaneously adjusting the elevation of the guns to account for the range.
"Guns are ready, Captain." Stan said, an undercurrent of giddiness in his voice.
"Fire!" Mags ordered.
Moments later, the guns of the Thunderchild spoke. Two massive shells were cleared from the barrels, creating a deafening roar and spewing gouts of fire from the muzzles.
Stan cackled like a madman at the display. "Whoo-ee! Those folks weren't kidding! These new powder charges have some bite!"
"Oh yeah, we handed out new earplugs for a reason!" Mags replied. Truth be told, she was just grateful to see that the guns could handle the massively increased pressure offered by ARM powder. As much as she would've loved to use the UNSC's own chemical propellant, Curie had calculated that the guns would've broken after only a few rounds.
The shells landed much quicker than she expected, owing to their improved speed, and remarkably landed directly on target. Scoring hits during the first volley was far from unheard of, but it was still some pretty solid evidence indicating that the new rangefinder was indeed a major upgrade.
"Direct hits!" Stan announced as the crew stared in awe at the growing cloud of smoke, emanating from where the balloon had once been. "Come on people, we ain't done yet. Get those guns reloaded!"
Two more of the target balloons met a similar fate in short order, with only a single round missing its target. It was the kind of accuracy that she had dreamed of as an impossibility, and now it was reality. Hot damn, all of that from two little upgrades…
"I've got some bad news, Captain." Stan spoke up only moments after the third volley touched down on its target. "The turret's recoil system is looking a little… er, stressed. Now nothing's broken yet, but I'm thinking that maybe we should hold off on firing the big guns anymore for today, let the Engineers have a look once we get back."
Mags sighed, perhaps everything wasn't quite as splendid as it had first seemed. "Agreed. I suppose it's better that we run into this problem now rather than in a battle. In the meantime, let's give some of the other gunners a little action."
The Thunderchild's secondary armament was fairly conservative when considering it's massively oversized main guns. Six quickfire five-inch guns, and a single rear-facing quickfire nine-point-two inch gun. Nevertheless, they too had been issued new ARM powder charges, and so it made sense to make sure that they could handle their new power. The fourth balloon was already visible in the distance, and so the gunners took aim.
However, before they could fire, something very unexpected happened. The balloon, which had been idly floating on the surface of the water, suddenly began to drift away, rapidly gaining speed. What in the world...surely that's not just the wind?
A peek through one of the periscopes on the bridge proved that she was correct, as a small propeller was the cause behind the balloon's sudden locomotion. "Oh those sly dogs, upping the challenge a bit are we… Well, go on lads, fire away!"
Two of the five-inch guns fired, sending bright red tracers soaring over the ocean's surface, but both of the shells fell short, landing where the balloon had previously been. Undeterred, the gunners adjusted their aim and fired again, firing four volleys in quick succession before they managed to score a hit, destroying the target.
"Well, I'll be damned, I think we scared the poor bastard." Stan said. "Keep your eyes peeled folks, we aren't done-"
Mid-sentence, he paused, his eyes fixated on one of the digital screens that the UNSC had installed on the bridge. The monitor in question was connected to the Thunderchild's radar, and unlike earlier in the day, it now showed a pair of contacts. "-wait a moment, here Captain, take a look."
Remembering what she had learned about the UNSC's radar and aircraft, Mags put the pieces together very quickly. The two targets were close together, about the size of Pelicans, and they were traveling faster than any Grimm ever could. "That's gotta be the Marines. Sound the alarm!"
Stan wordlessly obeyed and threw the switch, causing a series of alarm bells across the ship to begin ringing. Most of the crew were already at their battlestations, but it was still important to make sure that everyone knew what was coming.
"They must be using Dropships." Stan came to the conclusion that she already had. "Shall I order the flak cannons to stand down?"
"Yes, we don't want to kill anyone, or cause any permanent damage. We can always find something else to shoot down later, preferably something that's not filled with our friends." Mags replied. "Of course, we're still free to shoot them with our other guns."
Stan gave a cheeky smile as he drew his old peacemaker revolver. "I was hoping you would say that."
Meanwhile
Pelican Zulu One Nine Eight
Surely these guys don't need a Sniper for a goddamn boarding action? Nathan grumpily thought as he performed a last-minute inspection of his weapon. A standard Sniper Rifle would've been too bulky and unwieldy for the mission ahead, and so he was using the far lighter Battle Rifle instead. Regardless of the gun that he was using, he always hated firing training rounds. They failed to fire far too often, and the paint always seemed to get clumped up in the gun's innards.
"Two minutes to drop." Fireball's voice came in over the radio. "If you've got any regrets, you might wanna share them now. I've got two-hundred credits on Mags sending you all to Davy Jones' Locker... no offense."
Now that's just an opportunity that's too good to pass up. Nathan thought. "Hey uh, Yu? I just wanted you to know; I'm really sorry that I cleaned the latrine on Concord with your mess kit."
He heard a few faint chuckles, but with the icy mood that seemed to hang over everybody like a depressing raincloud, his little joke ultimately fell flat. Man, people are taking this really seriously. I get that we all want to win, but they act like Mags is actually gonna kill us!
"Oh come on Nathan, toilet humor?" Yu said, her exasperation apparent even through her polarized visor. "Please, I know you can do better than that."
Hell, I think that was almost a compliment. He thought. "Hey, give me some credit, at least I tried to break up the mood. You guys act like we're all gonna die."
She gave an indignant huff, which Nathan took to be a sign that she wasn't really in the mood for conversation. Granted, it wouldn't have been a long one anyway. Maybe she's got the right idea after all.
"One minute." Jorge relayed from the back of the Pelican. He was standing in the doorway, one hand clutching a handrail on the ceiling with the one on his machine gun. "Remember, don't hold back, but don't kill anyone."
Hmph, no headshots then. Nathan noted. Even if he was firing training rounds and his targets had Aura, he didn't want to risk punching a hole through somebody's eye socket if their Aura broke.
"Let's just hope Mags and her crew remember that too!" Meadows added. "If I've lived this long just to get done in by friendly fire, somebody's getting haunted!"
Seconds later, the sound of rockets firing filled the air as the two Pelicans each fired a salvo of seven Anvil-II missiles towards the Thunderchild. Each Missile was loaded with a very powerful smoke producing agent rather than a traditional warhead, with the intention of the barrage being to cover the whole deck with a thick smog. It would also put the crew of the Thunderchild on their back foot, as while they may have anticipated an airborne insertion, who could predict that they would be on the receiving end of an airstrike in a training exercise?
"Smokescreen is up! Get ready boys and girls!" Fireball's voice rang out over the intercom once more.
Jorge must've had a better eye of what was going on from his position, as he manually threw the switch to release the rope from the back of the Pelican. "This is it! Remember, keep a three meter gap between the man beneath you!"
Without any further ceremony, Jorge leapt for the rope and quickly descended. He was followed in rapid succession by Fairfire, Yu, Meadows, and finally Nathan. The moment that he touched down on the deck, he got out of the way to make room for all of the other Marines who were coming down the rope after him.
The smoke covering the Thunderchild's deck was much thicker than he thought it would be, completely obstructing his vision, but also offering valuable concealment from the Thunderchild's crew. Without the smoke on the open deck, they would have no doubt been torn to ribbons in a matter of moments.
Engaging his VISR, the smoke suddenly became a lot easier to see through, and with the aid of his Semblance, he was able to effectively see normally. So far, he didn't see any of the sailors, although that was likely to change very quickly.
"Push down to the superstructure, check every corner!" Jorge ordered.
The team moved out in staggered column formation, moving down the ship while expertly clearing every nook and cranny to find anybody who might've been hiding. There were only a small handful of sailors to be found in the smokescreen, and they were all taken into "custody" without any shots being fired. So far, it seemed like everything was going perfectly well, perhaps even a bit too well.
The realization had barely even begun to register to Nathan when the trap was sprung. A massive explosion erupted from somewhere behind him, shaking the deck and forcing him to stumble forward. At first, he thought that maybe there had been some kind of accident, but then the horrible realization clicked.
The blast had come from one of the seemingly dormant forward guns, which hadn't even been aiming at anything in particular when it fired, as the gunners had never intended to hit a target. When the gun fired, it created a massive shockwave and burst of hot air that had spread across the whole forward deck, knocking the Marines off balance, and more crucially, dispelling the vast majority of their protective smokescreen.
"Take cover!" Jorge shouted, but it was already too late. Machine gun fire poured down upon them from the Conning Tower, and in the span of seconds, at least a third of the team was paralyzed beneath a thick layer of training paint.
Nathan's subconscious warning had been the only thing that had kept him from the same fate, giving him that crucial extra moment to hit the deck. Even then, he was still caught in the leg by a stray round, but his Aura took the brunt of the impact.
The whole squad immediately returned fire, trying to suppress the gunner in the Conning Tower with middling success. Amid the chaos, Nathan could hear Jorge and Fairfire both shouting for him to take out the gunner, but he was already way ahead of them.
Lining up his scope on the muzzle flares, he found the culprit. One of the crewmen was manning a UNSC-made AIE-486H Machine Gun, and was protected by the armor plates of not just the gunshield, but also the same plates that protected the Thunderchild's bridge. It was a truly excellent position, but fortunately for him, it had a single weakness, a small gap around the iron sights of the machine gun. He fired three bursts from his battle rifle, and scored just enough hits to incapacitate the gunner, offering them merciful relief from the barrage.
There was no time for respite however, as a familiar face slammed into the deck directly in front of them, seemingly having fallen from the sky. Mags must have issued some kind of taunt, as he could've sworn that she said something, but it was drowned out by the rancorous din of dozens of sailors giving a battle cry as they emerged from the lower decks, charging at the Marines in an admittedly terrifying manner.
Nathan opened fire, joined by the rest of his squad, and the crew of the Thunderchild returned in kind. It was a brutal exchange, with little in the way of cover on either side, and in only a matter of moments over a dozen bodies had hit the ground, utterly coated with training paint.
As the scrimmage rapidly descended into chaos, Nathan's Marksman training took over, and he began to scan the battlefield for any sign of where Mags had gone. If he could take her out, perhaps there was a chance that they could somehow salvage their original plans to sweep over the deck. Finding her wasn't particularly difficult, as she was caught in a melee with Fairfire, using her shoulder-mounted naval cannon as a club, while Fairfire did the same with her shotgun, occasionally taking a potshot out at the crowd of sailors around them whenever she got the chance.
Liz is good, but she's no match for a Huntress in close-combat. He recognized. Lining up a shot on Mags was pretty difficult, given how quickly she was moving, but he eventually managed to score a three-round burst on her leg. Mags retaliated by turning around, aiming her cannon squarely across the deck directly at him, and firing.
Nathan barely even had time to emit a scream of panic before a kilogram worth of cast iron bounced off of his helmet at surprising speed. To say it hurt was an understatement, and even with his Aura and helmet protecting him from any serious damage, he was still incredibly dazed.
For at least a minute, he lay there on the deck, helplessly watching as the battle began to grow more and more dire for the Marines. Fairfire eventually fell victim to a mob of sailors with sidearms and cutlasses, and Yu met a similar fate shortly afterwards.
Most of the Marines had already been pinned or buried beneath an avalanche of paint by that point, but what few remained stood in tandem with Meadows and Jorge. Finally having regained even a sliver of organization, they turned their firepower against the sailors with devastating results.
They too would meet their rather embarrassing defeat as Mags blasted their formation with a salvo of gravity-based cannonballs, knocking all of the remaining Marines, including Meadows, cleanly overboard. They weren't in any serious danger thanks to their emergency flotation devices and locator beacons, but they were most certainly out of the fight. Now, only Jorge remained standing.
Around that time, Nathan's senses finally began to return, and he tried to get up to his feet to assist the Spartan, only to feel the barrel of a gun press up against the back of his helmet.
"Hey now, don't be doing that." Stan instructed him with a surprisingly jovial tone. "Look, I don't wanna shoot you, and I doubt you wanna get shot, so why don't you just let your boss handle this last battle, alright?"
Reluctantly, Nathan complied. His Aura wasn't strong enough to withstand another direct headshot anyway, so he was effectively out of the fight. Instead, he watched alongside Stan as Jorge made his final stand.
Unsurprisingly, the Spartan never actually went down. For a while he matched the whole Crew in hand-to-hand combat, even withstanding several waves and jets of seawater that Mags forced upon him with her Semblance. However, once it became apparent that the rest of Onyx Team and the Marines had been knocked out of the fight, Jorge willingly lowered his weapon and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Enough." Jorge simply said, and just like that, the battle was over. The Pelicans came back around to retrieve those men who had been knocked overboard, and Mags used her Semblance to start washing the paint off of everybody.
Oh man, we are never gonna hear the end of this. Nathan wearily thought.
UNSC Dominion, War Room
November 4th, 1656 Local Time, 2552
So Mags cleared the smoke with a blank from the main gun, and then the crew used that surprise to execute a textbook ambush… on our ambush. The survivors were then encircled and subdued by overwhelming force. Richard recounted the events in his mind as he watched it all on his terminal. It was a very impressive display of tactical ingenuity.
He had known about the massive gusts of hot air that the Thunderchild's cannons would produce, but he hadn't ever considered that they could be deliberately used to clear a smokescreen, and it seemed, neither had Jorge. "I've gotta hand it to you Lieutenant, that's a fine bit of work that you and yours pulled off… although I'm not sure that you could've taken Jorge."
He saw her grow a very smug grin on the comm terminal. "Hey, it takes a strong man to admit that they've been defeated, I'd argue that's well worth respecting."
"You make a good point." Richard admitted, he'd seen arrogance claim the lives of god knows how many ONI agents and UNSC Officers, all of whom had somehow managed to convince themselves that defeat was an impossibility. "Still, don't let this go to your head. You might've beat us today, but the White Fang will be playing by a whole different rulebook."
"I wouldn't dream of it, your boys put up a real stiff fight. I had to hose down a little over half the crew when all was said and done." Mags replied. "I'd say that we've certainly learned a few valuable lessons."
"I'm glad to hear it." Richard said. "On the note of learning, I was hoping that I could ask for your help with another matter."
Mags sighed. "I'm a little busy already Commander, and that ain't all that likely to change. It's gonna be at least another week before the Thunderchild's upgrades are completed, and that's with around-the-clock shifts."
Her reluctance was perfectly understandable, the Thunderchild was her ship, so of course, she would want to be present to make sure that her refit was going well. "I'm sure that Mr. Stanforth and Captain Clark are more than capable of overseeing the upgrades in your absence, and this assignment would only last for as long as you deemed fit."
"...Alright Richard, you've got my attention." Mags said.
He selected a handful of reports that he had received earlier today and forwarded them to the datapad that Mags had been issued. "We've made some serious progress on our new Planetary Headquarters. Most of the Barracks are complete, as are training grounds. As such, I've given the all-clear to begin the training for our first class of Marines."
"Ah." Mags remarked. "Let me guess, you want me to help with the training and… wait, what's this that you're sending me?"
"Our training regimen." Richard answered. "It was put together by Jorge, Ben, Gunnery Sergeant Moerdani, and myself. I actually used to be an instructor myself but… well, maybe I'll tell you that story when things are a little less hectic."
Mags softly chuckled as she skimmed the file. "Oh man, you guys are right bastards, you know that?"
"The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in battle." Richard replied. "As I said, you'd only be staying for as long as you decide to. I would obviously prefer that you return to Menagerie at some point before we begin our offensive against the White Fang, but you've proven your value as a teacher already."
"I see…" Mags said. "Alright Richard, I'm in. I'll pass the conn over to Stan and pack my bags, when do we get started?"
"The candidates will begin selection in two days." Richard answered. "And Lieu-... Margaret, thank you."
She gave him a wide smile. "Anytime, Commander."