G E A R S


LDF Landcruiser Docks
City Outskirts
Ourvan, Landren Capital
07:30 hours
Mid-Summer


Colonel Silverwind Blade stood in the shade of the Parvan's Claw's loading ramp. Even this early in the morning, the sun was blazing. Dust had blown up from the cement and asphalt, stirred by the passage of trucks, mobile cranes and loading GEARs, and it tickled his nose and tangled through his fur. At least in the shadows of the doorway to the cavernous vehicle bay there was some respite.
To one side of him, the procession of vehicles in and out of the cut-size Land-vessel had slowed. Now, it was more a case of multiple vehicles being parked and unloaded at once, more than many streaming in and out.
The GEARs had already arrived, maneuvered in on the back of GEAR-hauler flatbed trucks, and moved into position in their stalls in the hold. Maintenance crews were already at work, carrying out routine evaluations and maintenance as per the norms.
Casting his single eye back to his PADD, he tapped a single icon the the devices glossy black face, and a holographic display shivered into existence in the thin air a few millimeters above the surface. Angular Arvaran script displayed the names of the team he was waiting for, his own name at the top.
Footsteps on metal decking approached, and he looked back over his shoulder, and straightened as he saw a female deer approach. Around the same age as him, she carried it with an air of easy elegance and refinement, but had humor and warmth in her expression.
"At ease, mister," she said as she stepped to his side, staying in the shadows alongside him. Her uniform was on of the 'cruisers crew, and specificially of a captain, but the fox knew her well enough to stand easy beside her, and with a familiarity he knew she appreciated.
"How are things coming along?" he asked her, glancing back at the bay, and then to her, as she followed his look.
"Well - we'll be ready to get underway within an hour. We're just waiting on your people now. Any sign of them?"
"Not yet. They're all due to turn up now and get the tour. The chopper and it's pilot should be arriving around the same time too... Rhilly think this is gonna work?"
"Combined arms is what we've - the LDF, I mean - always practiced, and the same for the rest of the Arvaran militaries for the most part. Taking it to the next level like this; it's a risk, but the rewards stand to be pretty great. A small, flexible unit, with powerful firepower and high mobility. It has a lot of possibilities".
"Let's hope so. We took a bit of a risk with some of the people we pulled in too. Guess we're gonna have to live wi' that though."
"If anyone can make it work, you can. You know what it's like, after all. You've had it tough enough".
The foxes lips pressed into a tight line for a moment, before he nodded sharply and uttered a simple "Yup" in response.
"Let me know when they're aboard. Good luck". She squeezed his shoulder briefly, before stepping away to observe and supervise a bit of equipment placement, while Blade turned his attention back to the busy quayside, his tail twitching in the early-morning heat.
Who would arrive first? What would they be like in person - he'd read the files, but the reality was always different to the cut-and-dried words in a file on a screen.
Whatever they were like, it would be his job to try and mold them and coax them into a unit that was capable of working together, no matter what their divisive qualities or affecting backgrounds might be.
The LDF was a melting pot, much as Landren itself was. People were trained and taught, and they knew the ways of war and soldiering, but that wasn't enough to work well, to really be effective. That took trust and understanding. A closeness and familiarity that took time, and experience. Would this unit be like that? Eventually maybe, but as he reviewed their service records one more time, he felt a certain sense of optimism; it'd be rough and there'd be tears and shouting before it was through, but one way or another, he felt that, somehow, things might work out. Which was good, because he had a sense of dread that, as he looked off toward the mouth of the Landcruiser Harbour, and out into the distance, where the patchwork quilt of fields began to turn brown and dusty and further still, into the places where the wastes took over and the country turned into the rough and raw Badlands, something was brewing.
The fur on his tail fluffed up briefly, and a shiver ran down his back - for a moment, he felt as though something was looking back at him, which was absurd - and then he turned back and squinted at the head of the quay, and tried to make out any approaching persons that matched the mug-shots on his PADD's display.

Oliver looked at his watch as he was walking across the base in the early morning. Still 30 minutes to go before he had to report to colonel Blade of the 101st Tactical GEAR unit. For some reason the top brass decided to select him as a GEAR pilot out of all people. An odd choice considering usually the highest grade students would get such jobs. None the less Oliver was excited to start this new adventure. Some might find joining the military their patriotic duty or joined out of sense of idealism. Not Oliver, his motivation was utter adventurism. New and exciting experiences, new people to meet and new bonds to form. But first there was time for a cup of coffee.

As Oliver looked around the mess hall to see if any of his friends from training where up already but none where around. Last night Oliver’s friends had thrown him a Farwell party where the ale flowed richly. Most of them where lucky that they had either a day off or had to report with their new unit a lot later. Unlike the tiger, his friends had plenty of time to sleep away the hangover but Oliver was less fortunate. He had to do it with a couple of aspirin, a shower and a lot of coffee. He quickly ordered his coffee and a few sandwiches for breakfast and continued his journey towards the loading platform where the landcruiser was located.

As the Parvan’s claw came into sight Oliver thought back about his first day training on a landcruiser. Much to the annoyance of his instructors he had parked his GEAR on top the giant machine with some heavy scolding and 100 additional push-ups as result. None the less the view and the look on the faces of the instructors where worth the trouble. The young Tiger smiled at the already great memories of his first year in the Landren’s military. Even though it was all training , he has had fun doing it. Most of the time at least. Now a new challenges lies ahead. Active deployment would be a lot different than training.

Oliver climbed the stairs onto the loading platform and looked around for a middle-aged red fox. The tiger didn’t know much about his new commanding officer apart from some vague descriptions the desk lady at the human resource department gave him after a smile and some friendly words. Oliver actually wanted access to colonel Blade’s file but the girl was professional enough to not fall for the tiger’s charms. It only took a few seconds before Oliver spotted a weathered looking fox standing in front of a loading ramp. The tiger approached the men and kind of saluted “Colonel Blade? Private Oliver Stone reporting for duty”. This was about the maximum formality Oliver usually gives. As Oliver spoke the words he just hoped the signs of a short and rather wild night weren’t too obvious.

Memories coursed through Kradis, as he sat on the stairs of the sleeping quarters just outside the Parvan, He ran a finger down the picture found in the silver pendant, and a twinge of... Something, caused Kradis to shiver ever so slightly. He than ran his hand down his face, along the scar that crossed his eyebrow and down his cheek bone, in remembrance of that fateful day. Kradis looked up, into the blazing Arvaran sun, felt the wind through his short, crew cut hair, and noted how he was still unused to the heat of Landren, as it tore through him and made him sweat more than most. Whatever the cause, Kradis had concluded long ago that he would most likely never get used to this heat, or anything that goes on in this land, for that matter.

He got up, and made his way to the Parvan's Claw, slipping a tab of Overdrive when he was sure no one was looking. He held it under his tongue, and felt his face go warm, his ears hot and energy flowing through his tired, aching limbs. The dust caked his fur, and stung at his eyes, as he walked passed various tents and buildings, on his path to his new home. Loud conversation pierced his ears, as he heard his name mentioned between two soldiers and a mechanic:

"...How can you be sure?"
"He's not a spy, man. He's been here for ages. Kradis isn't a good person though, that's for sure. Heard he was a part of the Empire's little 'dog catching' service, did some really messed up shit in his time..."

Hushing themselves and moving out of his way as Kradis walked past, he said nothing, and pretended to have not heard their discussion. Inside though, Kradis was now pissed off. But he did nothing, and boarded the Parvan. He made his way to the loading ramp, and saw a face he remembered from his placement notice: Colonel Blade, his new team leader. Accompanying him was a tiger, who Kradis guessed was probably one of his team mates. He looked young, and Kradis hoped that his inexperience didn't get them into trouble. He walked up to them, and snapped to attention, saluting Blade.

"Officer Kradis Topha, reporting for duty, sir." He then glanced at the tiger, and his ear twitched, as he spoke to him in a 'somewhat' friendly voice. "New blood? Try not to get yourself killed, kid. Or anyone else, for that matter."

Logan walked along at a steady pace. He was supposed to meet Colonel Blade aboard the Parvan's Claw soon. He had seen a picture of Blade, and he looked like the kind of guy you wouldn't want to piss off. He shuddered at the thought of how he would react if he was late. Logan quickened his pace a little. After all of the crap he'd been through, that was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
This was the first time Logan had ever been on, or even seen a landcruiser. When he finally arrived at the landcruiser docks and saw the Parvan's Claw, his jaw dropped. He heard these things were big, but this wasn't what he was expecting. It was a lot bigger than he thought it would be. He admired the Paravan's Claw for several minutes before he remembered that he had to meet someone.
His eyes moved back and forth, searching for Colonel Blade. It only took a few minutes for him to find what he was looking for. A one-eyed fox with a prosthetic arm; that was definitely Blade. Two others stood with him, a tiger and a jackal. Logan approached the group, and saluted Blade.
"Private Logan Sheridan reporting for duty, sir."

Mike tugged the rolled up sleeves of the blouse until they matched on both sides, and pinned the matte painted rank to the collar as he looked in the mirror. today he would meet his permanent unit, he wasn't sure how he felt about this. he frowned as he sat on the rack and slid the holdout knives into his boots, his trench knife buckled onto his left thigh. figuring all he was doing was waste time, he grabbed the remote from the table and shut off the droning news channel that served to cover the silence and stood. setting his shoulders and readying his cover, he strode through the hallway, and out the door, donning his cap in the bright sun.

As mike marched through the brittle grass and dust thoughts kept going through his head, was this a suicide group? maybe it was the dumping ground for those that didn't play well with others? growling he shook his head and continued along his way, thankful that his gear was inside Prowler, so he didn't need to lug all of it. digging into his pocket he found his last stick of teaberry gum, tearing the wrapper and flipping it into his mouth. a short walk later he found himself at the security gate surrounding the land cruiser dock, readying his I.D. he walked up to the pair of guards carrying high cap PDWs.

"Mike, Nawlin. Pilot of Prowler, I'm with Parvan's claw" mike said, waiting for the usual dismissive wave and unlocked gate.
"quite a knife you got there, a little excessive don't you think" the guard said, blocking mike and making it a point to show mike the polymer rifle.

"that's why I love contracted security, lets pay civvies to have pissing contests with soldiers." mike thought, catching his slouch before it started. "no, it's not. it was with my father, and his, and I will carry it on me." mike said, granite stubbornness coloring his voice.
the guard fingered the carbine as he poked mike in the chest. "No weapons past this checkpoint means no weapons" he said as mike crossed his arms staring the guard down.
"tell you what," mike said scratching his chin. "I know you're full of shit, and he knows your full of shit." mike pointed to the other guard. "I bet I can disarm you with a single finger, you win, you get to take my knife, I win, you let me in" mike offered, holding his right index finger up innocently.

"you're on!" the guard said as mike simply jabbed his finger forward, hitting the mag release on the PDW, and walked triumphantly through the gate as the mag landed in the dirt.
"your rifle's empty, you have no sidearm, you are disarmed sir." mike said knowing protocol demanded no rounds be chambered unless engaging an enemy. smirking he walked to the land cruiser as the guard partner golf clapped. "that's why I carry a knife."

the guard flushed with embarrassment as he picked the mag up out of the dirt shouting at his partner to shut up as mike oriented to the shining eagle rank on blade's collar.
"Mike Nawlin, Reporting for duty Colonel Blade sir" mike barked snapping into a salute. "my apologies for the gate incident"

Meanwhile, in a nearby fueling depot, Shona Bell jumped down from the crew cab of a cargo hauler, sliding her anti-glare sunglasses down from her forehead as the blazing sun it her face. The trip between Ourvan AFB, where her unit - no, her former unit now - had been based, to the landcruiser dock was a pretty familiar one. She'd driven, or been driven, up and down it heaps of time over the last few months, and there was always a steady stream of trucks and staff cars going back and forth. It had been easy enough to find a transport with a free seat and a friendly driver.

Waving her thanks, the bat hurried off towards the dockside, smiling brightly as her new home came into view. She'd studied the Paravan's Claw's file extensively ever since she'd received her assignment - the landship was beautiful, no questions asked. Smaller than most cruisers, but that just made it seem sleeker, faster. Fishing her PADD out, she pulled up her reassignment letter and opened some of the attached files, thumbing through them until she found whats he was looking for - her new CO's file. Checking the time with a hint of nervousness - it would be absolute hell to be late on her first day - she looked around, comparing the file photo to the scattering of foxes she could see around. Loading ramp, it says... which one? I can see three from here... ah!

Spotting a small group of soldiers standing in a loose line before a red fox, she pocketed her PADD and hurried over, taking a deep breath. OK, here we go. "Shona Bell, also reporting, sir!" She said formally, raising her voice over the bustle of the quay, snapping off a salute and trying to ignore how most of the assembled pilots were at least half a head taller than her.

Myrina snickered as she caught the exchange between the tiger and the security guards. Compared to her neck of the woods, the security was noticeably light. But she supposed that was to be expected, when more resources needed to be allocated to the more 'hot' regions around the fringes of Landren. Indeed, she'd had to play that security role more times than she could recount, although she prided herself on having done a much more professional job. Myrina continued down the walk, tilting her cap down to impair the swirling dust from nipping at her face. She toted her belongings over her shoulder in a green, surplus duffle bag, which had "Cheshire Militia" stamped on it to mark her district. Much of the gear she brought along were her holdovers from the militia; the LDF hadn't issued her much in fact. Maybe it was assumed she didn't need to replace any of it. Fortunately, Myrina's belongings were still in working condition. Whatever she needed she'd probably find on the Parvan's Claw.

The ridiculed guard straightened himself out by the time Myrina reached the checkpoint, and she flashed him her identification with a glint of her teeth and a teasing "I'm with him!" Wearily, he let her in without incident. Her eyes lingered on the 'Claw as she stepped through, taking in its breadth and complexity of its design. She'd never worked with something as massive before, and although she'd seen the photographs, standing next to the real thing was a much different experience. Clustered on the ramp of the metal leviathan was a group in BDUs, who she reasonably assumed to be her new unit. Myrina picked up her pack and fell in next to a bat who'd arrived a few seconds before.

"Warrant Officer Myrina Michelete, reporting in, Sir!" Myrina's salute was perhaps not so textbook and finely-tuned as the pilot to her right, although she though it formal enough. By the way the Colonel looked, he wasn't much of a "prim and proper" type, which suited her just fine. A dart of her eyes around the company that had arrived earlier revealed sets of grim, hard-edged faces. The jackal, for one, looked as cold as a stone, and unnaturally attentive and the lynx was just as stern. "What's everyone so dour for?" she whispered to herself; only loudly enough perhaps, for the bat at her immediate shoulder and the Colonel himself to pick up.

Ashers lay on the bed looking up at her bandaged hands and forearms. Throughout her training with the LDF and even during the examinations her fierce confidence had never faltered but now, as she prepared for deployment, she was beginning to feel the fear that should have caught up with her ages ago. In training it was all well and good to be confident, even reckless. If you screwed up the consequences were unpleasant but not final. One could run a thousand laps of the campus over the duration of the course and survive ultimately unharmed. In real life however things would be different, dangerous. The slightest mistake could end her life or worse, someone else's. Ashers blinked and suddenly she found herself elsewhere.

The eager thrum of the shock racers engine reverberated through Ashers body, its immense power pressing her back into the seat as she accelerated along the straight and across the chequered line where the race had started and, very soon, would end. The cheers of an entire arena managed to reach her over the roar of her engine at a volume so loud it was almost all-consuming. The fans had come here to see a spectacle of speed, to share in the excitement of the drivers as they pushed themselves to the limit in the search for the perfect lap and bathe in the glory of a victor. Ashers was going to be that victor. She had decided it long ago. She would be the first rookie driver to top the leaderboard in the shock racers most prestigious global event and that would all start here. Today.

Third place and two laps left. Ashers was going to have to pull a miracle out of her pale arctic wolf backside if she was going to come first butt Ashers intended to do just that. Ashers passed through the next tight chicane with almost disdainful impunity, not even letting her foot off the gas as she catapulted herself around the following wide, left hand corner and onto the next straight. As Ashers came to the end of the corner the faint thrum of a second engine met her ears over the cacophony of the crowd and the roar of her engine. There! Just in front of Ashers was the driver placed second in the race. A sloppy exit from the chicane had cost him valuable time on the next corner and dragged him back to within overtaking distance of Ashers from which she could practically smell his exhaust gas. The opponent had a flashy vehicle with a lowered suspension and underside mounted neons that lit up the track in a bright orange which matched the chromed orange of his vehicles paint job. Anton Zachaeiv. Top placed racer from the Northern Empire and renowned for being brutally difficult to pass on the track. This was going to be a challenge.

The next three corners and S-bends turned into a kind of horrid cat and mouse play between Ashers and her opponent. Each time she found a new line that would take her past her Anton he would slide or accelerate his racer into her path, forcing her to back off and try again on the next twist or turn. Finally following one of the tracks two splits where she and Anton had diverged down different paths Ashers found her opportunity. The pair had reunited back on the track neck and neck with Ashers to the left and Anton to the right. The following corner was this arenas infamous corkscrew turn. A sharp descent straight descent leading directly into an incredibly tight left handed, 270 degree speed-bend that would take them back under the track they had just sped down. Anton was pressing her to the left, clearly hoping Ashers would retreat back down the track in order to avoid overshooting the corner which would put him back in the lead. Ashers did no such thing. Instead she matched his speed and, immediately before the corner wrenched the steering to the left and accelerated causing the tail to flick out into a drift that would glide her around the inside of the corner if she could execute the manoeuvre correctly. Anton hadn't anticipated this course of action and, as a result, disaster struck.

The two racers came together with a force akin to a fully equipped GEAR belly-flopping onto concrete. Before Ashers could react her vehicle was floating upside-down in midair. For a moment time seemed to stall and she could see the wreck of Antons vehicle spinning off beneath her, the front crumpled into the drivers space as though the racer had been comprised entirely of paper-mâché and with blood splattered over its fractured windscreen. In that moment everything was silent and still and Ashers had almost wished it would go on for ever but, as it tends to, time moved on. The screeching of buckling metal and the icy smashing sound of glass breaking assaulted Ashers ears. Her arms flew up in front of her face and then there was only screaming and pain.

"Ashers... Ashers? ASHERS?"

Ashers snapped back to reality with a start, her bandaged arms still suspended in midair before her.

"Are you ok?" Her dad queried in a concerned tone as he invited himself politely into her room.

"Yeah dad. I'm fine. I was just... Reminiscing." She replied in an earnest voice that masked her true feelings."

"You know Ashers. It's ok to be nervous from time to time. Heck I never regretted my marriage to your mother and that was one of the most nerve wracking experiences I ever had, besides letting you race for the first time." He he said, sitting down beside her with a chuckle in his voice. Ashers returned the chuckle with a smile and a chuckle of her own.

"Don't lie dad. You hate her guts and rightly so! What she did to you was unacceptable!"

Dad's smile immediately turned sad and he sighed. For a moment Ashers felt guilty, worrying she had ruined the last time they would be together for a while. She had been about to apologies when her dad replied.

"I guess you're right Ashers but still... I never regretted marrying her. If I hadn't taken that path in life where would I be now? Where would you be?" He said before pausing for a moment whilst he gathered his thoughts.

"Regardless. I am confident that whatever you do and wherever you want to go, as long as you truly want to do it you will be successful. That's not something I say about everyone you know." He said before grabbing putting Ashers in a headlock and giving her a noogie. "Now hop to it. We need to get moving."

Ashers laughed for real now. Her legs and tail squirming violently as she tried to press herself free of her fathers grasp. "I'll "hop to it" the moment you let go dad." She told him before grabbing her rucksack and getting up off the bed the moment he let go. Today she had donned an orange tank top, a pair of casual camouflage combat trousers and a pair of plain white bandages to function as handwraps for her hands and forearms. The two dyed in black streaks finished the look by giving her a tomboyish "not to be messed with" appearance stolen straight from full contact ball sports teams. Ashers double checked the contents of her rucksack, plenty of spare clothes, dyes and the other hygiene related products she would need whilst aboard the Parvans Claw. Once she was sure she had what she needed she went downstairs and met her dad in his 4 wheeler where he had been waiting for her.

"Are you ready?" He asked raising an eyebrow as he looked her over. To which Ashers simply replied.

"Yeah."

It took some time for Ashers and her father to reach their destination with the roads in and out of the rough suburban area they lived in being unfortunately congested despite the automation of most vehicles. Both of them suffered heavily in the desert heat, something they blamed on their arctic wolf genetics and, lacking the means to sweat, they ended up panting significantly even with the windows rolled down. Matters weren't helped by the fact that the conductive metal of her fathers vehicle amplifying the suns rays. Nonetheless when Ashers arrived she felt herself again. Full of confidence and raring to go. She hugged her father goodbye at the gate and then went in standing proud, rucksack slung casually over one shoulder.

Ashers encountered little trouble as she passed through security although she did bark a warning at one of the security guards made the bag search a little intensive on her underwear collection. The guard quickly backed off however embarrassed and seeming to be particularly wary of his weapons magazine. He seemed to be handling it incessantly as though to be sure it was still firmly in the firearm. Ashers asked him for directions and when she was cleared to go she went straight into the docks and followed his instructions.

Ashers took long, quick strides as she made her way through the dockyards, enjoying the freedom to stretch her legs once more after what felt like and possibly had been hours sat in her fathers 4x4. As she moved she let her eyes wonder the bustling dockyard. Workers and vehicles of all descriptions scurried around each with a clear sense of purpose. As lax as the guards might be this was still clearly a very smooth operation. Finally Ashers eyes latched onto the main event. The landcruiser loomed like the behemoth it was before her and it was hard to believe she had missed it when she first walked into the yard. Ashers knew from school that such things could float but now, with one right before her, it seemed an impossibility once more. Ashers was so distracted by the scale of the landcruiser that, when she reached the group at the loading ramp she almost bumped into them and had to stop suddenly causing the dogtags she wore around her neck to bounce from between her cleavage. Realising she was where she was meant to be Ashers grinned and found something to lean against whilst she waited.

Blade had no sooner lowered the PADD to check the time, when the majority of the squadron arrived in a short stream, one after another. Rather than return the flurry of individual salutes and greetings, he threw one out to the assembled group, as casual as he normally did; a touch of fingers briefly to his brow, and then dropped it with a slight smile and a nod.
"Well, now. Y'all are impressin' me rightly by turnin' up so punctual, an' bein' all polite-like. I'm mighty impressed, and flattered fer yer kind manners." He nodded at Ashers - and did something of a double-take at the curvaceous arctic fox - before returning to cast an appraising look over the group. They were a motley, assorted bunch of folks, but that was no bad thing; none of them were out of what passed for uniform among the LDF's somewhat loose regulations - one of them was even dressed smartly in his Class-A uniform, which he acknowledged with a positive sound and a pat on the shoulder as he walked around the small group - and all of them were more-or-less attentive.
"Okay, boys an' girls. There's still a coupla folks we're waitin' on, so I gotta hang around. I'll give y'all the full welcome and th' official speech once we're all assembled and the land-boat's underway. Fer th' meantime-" he whistled into the hold, and a female Red Panda wearing standard BDU's and GEAR pilots' insignia stepped over to the group.
"Sir," she said in a warm, melodious voice. "Glad to report, but please don't whistle for me like a pet again."
The Red Panda stood half a head taller than the fox, and was sleek and athletic. Keen intelligence was in her eyes, and her voluminous hair was pulled and tucked neatly into a no-nonsense style to keep it off of her neck and out of her eyes.
"This is Iriana Jacquo. Or Irry, as she ends up bein' called. She's my go-to person, and knows the nuts an' bolts that keep things runnin' around here. She's also GEAR-qualified, so she's been on th' field more'n once too. If y'all can't find me, and ya need to know where somethin' is, ta request anythin' like paperwork, pay, or administrative stuff, or stuff like supplies and whatnot, then this is yer lady. She'll show y'all to yer rooms an' all".
She flashed them all a winning smile, and then nodded to Blade, who dismissed them all with a light wave.

Irry lead them through the noisy chaos of the main hangar, where unloading and parking was still underway. Trucks off-loaded munitions for the Landcruisers' batteries of missiles and cannon, and for the GEARs that stood in their stalls, hooked up to umbilicals and with techs swarming over them. Other vehicles were winched up into the rafters and secured with chains, or tied-down with chains onto floor points for transit. The view was lost a moment later as she lead them through a thick bulkhead hatch and into a corridor, before taking them up a steep stairwell.
"As you all probably know," she called back to them loudly, "If the alert sirens sound for battle-stations, the ship goes into 'traffic' mode; that means the port staircases and ladders become up, and the starboard ones become down. Your assigned station - unless we're called into action - will be to stick tight in your quarters, to keep outta the way of the crew getting into place for their duties. Sucks, but if we screw something up, anything could happen. Anyway, the rest of the info about the ship, you'll find in your PADDs as part of the assignment data dump the 'net will have sent down".
Another few sets of stairs, and then a narrow corridor - though, on a Landcruiser, they all were - toward the stern, and Irry lead them through another bulkhead door and into a slightly larger room, with small doors splitting off. Round tables and easy chairs were dotted about the main room, and a large screen took up one wall. A few potted plants dotted the area, and an arched doorway lead through to a small kitchenette area.
"All right. This is what we call home. Through the doors on the far wall are your personal quarters. Each has a personal bunks with closing partition curtains, a separate bathroom area, and a personal work and relaxation space, as well as ample storage for your clothing and personal effects. Choose a room yourselves, mine's already done. Blade's room is at the end - he's higher rank than us, so he gets a personal room. I'll be right here if you need anything.
A double whistle on the intercom sounded, and a clear male voice came over the system.
"All hands, all hands. Be advised that the ship will be getting underway in approximately thirty minutes. Stand by to secure from dockside stations. Make ready to cast off all external lines and switch to internal power. All crew at ready positions"
A low throb came through the decking as the ships' engines came to life, and the overhead lighting flickered briefing as the power revved up. Booted feet moved past at a rapid pace in the corridors outside, and voices shouted back and forth as the ship got underway.

Bah, most of these guys look like they just passed basic. Too many young people, not enough experience... Kradis was already unimpressed with the make up of the team, and wondered what the hell his superiors were thinking. Whatever the case may be, this was his new unit now. At least he would get to see some action again, something he hadn't had reliably in nearly a year and a half, so there was a silver lining. He was already dreading to think how many losses they would sustain in their first foray against anything larger than a bandit troop, but left open the possibility that these guys would pull through. Fact is, these guys WERE selected for a reason, so maybe it wasn't all bad. Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious. Ignorance gets people killed.

As they passed through the ship, Kradis kept to the back of the group, and observed the hangars and, in particular, looked for Gammorah. Straining his eyes a bit, Kradis spotted his prized GEAR, loaded towards the back of the group, alone and having it's weapon pods fitted. Chip of the ol' block, eh Gammorah? Sometimes Kradis thought that his GEAR was his only companion, and that didn't bother him in the slightest. They had worked together for some time now, since he first signed up with the LDF and Gammorah knew him well. Sometimes the GEAR would even twitch, just like him. As a result, Kradis felt he had a spiritual bond with his machine, as absurd as that sounds. And because of that, Kradis would rather die himself than let Gammorah get destroyed. It made sense, at least to Kradis, that Gammorah had more to live for than himself.

Eventually, they made it to their quarters, and were dismissed, albeit confined to their rooms for the time being. Kradis sighed, and went to his bunk. He'd set it up hours before, when the Parvan first came into dock, so as to avoid the rush and hustle of various personnel running about to get ready for departure. He laid on the bed and rested his head, before booting up his PADD and reading the Landcruiser's file. He swept through articles, and took particular note of it's combat history, previous deployments and armaments. Quite a decorated vessel, and armed with enough fire power to level a settlement. In all actuality, it seemed a bit overboard for border patrols. Bandits don't stand a chance against a lone GEAR usually, let alone a Landcruiser...

Kradis continued to read, and ignored what was going on in the main room. He'd been on this ship for forty minutes, and he already missed the open air.

((Well... I hated doing this but I got no options since I noticed the second post developed the rp rather too dramatically for me to find any other alternative. There isn't much to write on this approach but I got my hands tied this time. I hate my schedule compared to others already if it goes like this the whole rp :c))

The sun seemed to rise pretty high for a 7:30 morning according to the young pilot Kensington who was making his way through the base. It was a gift though since the wolf needed to get all he could from a file he was recently handed. He was looking it over, unaware of the elevation change as he proceeded towards the ship he was assigned to without glancing up and around to take in it's outer image. The file in his hands contained his orders and from the looks of it seemed to be fresh out of the file cabinet, a good sign this was a last minute message to the pilot regarding his orders. Regardless, orders were orders and Kensington was going to fly for these people whoever they may be.

It wasn't long until he came across a lone fox standing on the ramp, as a matter in fact he had been so glued to the words he had to take a step back in order to have a decent posture before the man. After adjusting his scarf around his neck the pilot gave a nod followed by a salute. "Kensington Maxwell from the air control quarters sir. They said you needed an airman?" The pilot stated in his light country accent with a slight smirk on his face, his eyes drifting around in slight wonder. Was he the only one deployed to this ship? Where were the others. IT wasn't long until the pilot couldn't resist the urge any more to look at the time, and when he did he growled under his breath and took off the pair of aviator shades he wore before speaking to the fox in a more nervous manner. "S-sorry if I am late... The guys upstairs just gave me this file last week and the practice sessions were rather frequent so I had no time to get prepared properly." He took the time to tug on the strap of a duffle bag he was carrying along, full of his weapons and personal belongings.

"Howdy, Pilot" replied Blade as the younger fox arrived. He looked nervous, but had a smile on his face all the same. Blade couldn't help but smile slightly at that, as it reminded him of himself in younger days.
"Don't fret about it," he replied to Maxwell's explanation. "Things are always like that in the military, especially when you're joinin' a bit of an unorthodox unit like this. Once we're underway, I'm sure things'll get a bit more squared. We're kinda re-writin' the book as we go, here."
He nodded to the kit bag the vulpine was carrying. "Leave yer weps with the quartermaster over by the staircase, he'll sign 'em into the armoury fer you. Then sync yer PADD up to the shipnet, and y'all should be able ta find yer bunk-room... or hang around here fer a few, an' come wi' me."
He glanced at his PADD and tapped a flickering holo-icon, before nodding. "Yer chopper's not aboard yet, it'll catch up with us once we're a coupla hours out, as per the regs. I'll make sure y'all get time to check it over once we're runnin' tho. Welcome aboard, and ta the 101st. I'll give a proper brief later, all right?"

Jens stood back and dusted his hands off, thanking the crewman for his help. The man nodded and left, and Jens looked around at his new quarters. He had arrived on the cruiser just after the group had left, but one of the crew had been kind enough to show him around. They had just finished stowing his trunk, and the Private was a little worn out. The heavy chest held most of his belongings, neatly ordered into compartments, as the Academy instructors had told him.
Three of the walls were painted a dull grey, with ventilation and water pipes clinging near the ceiling. The fourth wall wasn't really a wall, more of a heavy curtain pulled across. He guessed this could be removed, or stowed, to allow more room in the common area. A narrow bunk was folded against one wall, above his trunk, and a small sink, cupboard, and mirror were on the opposite. The back wall had a small, round, window over a desk. The young man had nothing to put there yet, so didn't bother with it.
He was officially off-duty, so wasn't required to wear his full uniform, but he wanted to make an impression on his CO, an older fox by the name of Silverwind Blade. Jens would already be in enough trouble for being late, and didn't want to make anything worse. A whistle sounded, followed by deep rumbling, and a slight vibration in the deck. Jens jumped, and tried to look through his porthole, but the desk was in the way. Hurrying instead to the common room, he hoped to find a larger window to look through.

"Crap. Crap. CRAAAP!" Vulgarities, irregularities, escaped from Raisa's mouth as she attempted to the navigate the interior of the land-cruiser. Wiping the fatigue from her eyes and wearing an urgent expression, she ran up stairs, throwing salutes at every man or woman she passed, not having time to look at rank. Breathing heavily, she turned a corner and ran up some stairs to get to the deck of the land-cruiser, just in time to see her comrades leaving. "Oh, you're kidding me!" She uttered as she ran up to whom she suspected was her commanding officer. Standing in front of him, she spoke clearly while delivering a salute. "Efreitor -erm- Private Raisa Yurievna Biryukova reporting as part of an exchange program, sir!" She messed up on her rank, using the Iyulian rank instead of the Landren equivalent, but quickly corrected herself. "Sorry being late. I guess it doesn't make for a great first impressions, huh?" Keeping the salute, she cracked a joke in an attempt to keep the man from going too berserk on her.

As she awaited her response, she reflected on the events that led up to her being late for the meeting...

It turns out that Iyulian GEAR seats are exceedingly comfortable. Dangerously so. Shortly after her Flanker's arrival in Landren, Raisa had decided to check on the machine after being loaded onto the flatbed that would transfer it to the land-cruiser. Climbing aboard despite it being in shackles to keep it from falling off, she discovered upon entry into the cockpit that she was more than a little tired from the trip over. It was thus that she found herself falling asleep as she sat in the seat of the machine, and it was thus that she didn't even notice the flatbed beginning its move to the land-cruiser. Of course, by this point, she was fast asleep and would spend the rest of the trip in the GEAR, instead in one of the official transports. Due to this, she wasn't awoken until a mechanic discovered her inside the machine when it had been unloaded.

"Crap."

And now we return to the present scene.

Kensington nodded and adjusted his scarf which already had traces of sweat present. "Y-yes sir I might drop off the weapons and stuff first bu..." The airman trailed off when his eyes came across another young pilot came their way, seeming to be more frantic and in a hurry as he was just a few seconds ago. He held his right fist in his left hand and adjusted his stance as she introduced her name and rank. Hearing it to be not any high official rank the airman relaxed again, letting out a quiet sigh under his breath.

"Good morning miss." The airman said with a more comfortable smile, feeling he dodged any complications regarding his 'not on time' appearance.

Blade was about to answer Kensington when the young woman arrived, all in a fluster. Bemused by her rapid-pace explanation as it tumbled out of her, he held up his left artificial hand to halt the explanation, a slight smile on his muzzle.
"Easy there, slow it down a little. Don't worry about being late; you're here now and that's all that matters. I'll be giving the official welcome once the ship's underway. Kensington here was jus' heading up to the squadron barracks rooms. Follow him, and y'all will be fine. I'll be up in-" he checked the PADD again "-five minutes. I'll wait that long fer anyone else, then we're movin' out."

Ashers head snapped round and her ears (literally) pricked up as her future commander began to speak. She had to suppress the urge to chuckle as she noted his incredibly strong accent and instead she contented herself with a wolfish grin and listened. Ashers was relieved to find Silverwind was not what she considered to be a "stiff". Had that been true she knew she'd have had a particularly rough time ahead of her. As it stood this guy actually made her laugh when he whistled for a rather attractive female red panda by the name of Iriana or "Irry". Ashers quickly dismissed Iriana's actual name as tricky to say and substituted in Irry in its place. She did something similar for Silverwind. Provided he didn't gut her for it when she used it first time he would simply be known as Silver. Ashers threw him a casual salute and a smile as she passed him with the rest of the group on the way into The Parvan's Claw. "Nice t'meet you sir." She added cheerfully.

Ashers walked with a slightly excessive bounce in her step and couldn't stop fidgeting with her khaki green rucksacks bag straps as she followed Irry through the Claw's maze of tight corridors, doorways and steep staircases. Ashers actually felt quite at home in these small spaces. They were somewhat reminiscent of the service tunnels she had spent countless hours of her childhood in back at the racetrack and the various pipes and notices that occupied the spaces added character and meant the eye always had something to gaze on rather than a featureless wall. As always seemed to happen when one moves with a group they were walking painfully slowly and it felt as though if she didn't keep her paces short she would ultimately be stepping on someones heels or worse their tails. Ashers didn't let this bother her long and instead examined the other members of her group as they travelled. There was a jackal, two tigers (one of whom appeared about Ashers age and the other of the much rarer grey/white furred variation) and a lynx all of whom were male. There were also two females besides Ashers and Irry; a rather short bat and an extremely effeminate yet somewhat flat chested goat. Eventually, despite the plodding pace the group had moved, they arrived at their destination.

"Your assigned station... stick to your crew quarters." Irry informed the group which immediately drew a groan from Ashers. Being confined to such a small space was not exactly Ashers idea of a good time. In fact Ashers had been somewhat looking forwards to spending a fair amount of her free time tinkering with the vehicles here and her GEAR when she could get her hands on it. Nonetheless Ashers decided to make the best of a bad situation and the moment the group was dismissed she paired up with the younger looking tiger (oliver) and, once the group had dispersed somewhat, let out a great big wolf whistle she was sure would be attributed to the tiger she was with and was bound to get him in all kinds of trouble with the teams females.

Mike listened intently to blade, taking in the relaxed stance and accent. It was odd considering his other CO's, he smirked at the fox's double take but hid it quickly before receiving a pat from him. looking around himself and seeing as everyone else seemed happier in less formal attire, mike unbuttoned the blouse and stood at-ease. the informal meet n' greet continued as blade whistled to the land-cruiser, and a slightly miffed red panda exited, giving a mild warning to the grinning fox. mike supposed they would go to her before bothering the CO directly. in either case, he liked her reaction, direct and dignified.

As the group funneled into the cruiser, mike waited until he was in back, and matched pace with the others, head swiveling to familurize himself with the beast. looking around the gearbay and finding Prowler among the groups GEARs, and then noticing the COs very similar mech.

"huh, who'd have thunk" mike muttered to himself as they were lead through the corridor, the panda explaining the changes that would happen during "traffic mode" apparently they would be confined to their rooms, he wasn't entirely sure why the GEAR's wouldn't be deployed. he looked in at the meager spaces that the pilots had, but they still were better then the engineers barracks, so he couldn't complain. overall he found the small spaces cramped, but comforting, it would be hard for a force to infiltrate and easier to hold out in if need be.

that was when the call to stations barked from the various speakers in the ship. stifling a chuckle as ashers groaned he strode for the room ahead of him when a loud whistle made him look back. finding a confused, Oliver next to Ashers, who was trying to hard to look disappointed despite the micievious glint in her eyes. deciding it wasn't of any major concern, he walked over to a chair and flopped into it. to his amusement, he realized it had a rotating base, putting it to use, he lazily kicked at the ground rotating slowly.

Shona had quickly fallen in step behind the others as they followed the Jacquo – the colonel’s 2IC? His adjutant? She wasn’t quite sure. The young bat pulled off her sunglasses as they entered the shadowed interior of the cruiser, deftly hooking one arm over her BDU’s breast pocket as she listened to the red panda’s instructions. She’d never served on a landcruiser before, so even though she’d read up on the regulations before arriving she was glad to get an intro from someone with first-hand experience.

The ship’s narrow, low ceilinged corridors weren’t much hindrance to the diminutive bat, a face she noted with a wry smile. Soon enough, they were shown to their quarters and essentially told to stay there for now. Fair enough, she thought, easily imagining the traffic jams that would inevitably occur if they started bumbling around while the crew were working.

Shona’s ears perked up as the low rumble of the ship’s turbines filled the air, and she couldn’t help but grin. This is exciting! She quickly darted into one of the side rooms and tossed her kit onto a bunk, making her way out into the common area. There had to be a porthole or viewing window around here somewhere, right?

The preoccupied bat jumped as a loud whistle sounded from somewhere behind her, the noise particularly piercing to her sensitive ears. She winced and turned in the direction of the sound, raising one eyebrow as she spotted the tiger and fox standing nearby.

The vibration through the Landcruisers' deck increased, and there was a momentary shudder as the land-ship got underway. The sensation of movement soon diminished as the ship began to move smoothly.
Not more than a few moments later, Blade stepped through the entryway into the common area, content to just watch for a few moments, gathering an idea of how his people behaved with each other, before he took a breath and yelled, in his best parade-ground voice:
"101ST! FALL IN!"
And waited for them to form a proper square for inspection and address in the centre of the room.