Roughneck's at the Ready

Posted on Sat Oct 21, 2017 @ 8:53pm by

Mission: Falling Star
Location: USS Ragnarok, XO's Office
Timeline: MD 1 || 0900 Hours

As the shuttle pod docked with the USS Ragnarok, the pilot allowed a sigh of relief. As a Marine Pilot, he was a little nervous about his passenger. Not because of him being a hard ass, but because in some circles, he was already carving out a legend, of sorts. He had been in the Corps for a long time, and had a lot of victories under his belt.

His passenger placed a hand on his shoulder, and smiled at the pilot. "Excellent flying, son." He said.

"Thank you sir." The pilot replied.

"Have the rest of my men prepare to come up to the ship. Always polite to check with with the brass first." He said. He then went to the hatch, and ensured it was unlocked, before opening it. Stepping out of the pod, he stepped aboard the brand new ship, and smiled.

He was wearing his Marine Dress Uniform, which was not only perfectly pressed, but it was brand new. He usually preferred outfits that were worn in, but with a new ship, he preferred a new uniform, and new boots.

He smelt the air - and the scent of the new ship hit his nose. He liked the feeling of a new ship, but at the same time, knew it would need breaking in.

As long as it didn't get completely broken, of course. He had checked the layout of the ship, and knew exactly where to go.

The first thing he did was to check the location of the First Officer, and then immediately made way to the man's office.

He passed a number of officers, saluting at them as he did, and as he reached the office, he rang the chime, and awaited permission to be granted entry.

"Enter!" came a distinct brogue voice which rolled the r slightly before the door opened to reveal a redhaired and bearded short man in a Command red uniform with the pips of a Commander on his collar sitting at a desk.

As the doors opened, Major James Racktor walked into the room, and stood at attention. "Major James Racktor, reporting for assignment as Marine Commanding Officer, USS Ragnarok." James said, formally, saluting the man.

"Have a seat, Major," Brayan said as he assessed the man and pulled up his personnel file. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Brayan Ciannot, the Executive Officer of the Ragnarok," he said by way of introduction and pronounced his name Brian Key-in-not with a soft t at the end.

James accepted the offer and sat down. "Thank you Lieutenant Commander Ciannot." He said. He handed a PADD to the man. "My orders, assigning my unit and I to this ship, sir." He said.

Brayan accepted the PADD and perused it before he set it on the desk and looked at the grizzled Marine veteran. "I dinnae give a crap about your record, but I do need tae know what ye'll be bringin' tae the Ragnarok, Major in the way of service. Can ye tell me that?"

James looked at the man. "I can assure you Commander, I'll be bringing the same level of service I always bring. I make sure my men cultivate a strong, mental attitude, especially given that we have no idea what we're facing out there. I refuse to give any less." James replied.

The Lieutenant Commander leaned forward. "What would ye do if the ship were tae be boarded, Major?" he asked. "Say they've taken me and the Commander prisoner and threatenin' tae kill us both and only you and yer men stood between them and the exit."

"Honestly? I'd give the order to shoot, or I'd shoot, and make sure we were either good shots, damned lucky, or both. Ship gets boarded, and I let them loose, then the rest of the crew is at risk. They get away with you, they have access to Starfleet information which shouldn't be in the hands of the enemy. Would it be an easy call to make? Yes. Would it be easy to live with? Not at all. But I've had to make a lot of similar calls. But I'd expect my men to do the same thing if I was the one being held." James replied.

"Just make sure ye'll not shoot the Commander," Brayan told him. "I have a feelin' that she'd shoot you back if she survived. As for me, I donnae mind a flesh wound if it means takin' out an enemy, but try tae talk first before ye shoot."

James nodded. "Don't worry, my men are the best shots. I drill them every day, and I refuse to accept any less than the best." James said. "I'll give them a chance to surrender first, don't worry." He added. "I've got my men ready to come aboard with your permission. If you like, you're welcome to join me when I meet them here. I've got some fresh meat to train up, so I need to induct them into the Roughnecks."

"I'll trust ye to handle yer men, Major," the Executive Officer said. "And I trust ye'll let me handle Starfleet personnel. Speakin' o' which, I donnae expect tae hear a mumblin' word of a scrap between yer men and Security on the ship."

"If there is, any Marine who is a part of it will be booted from the corps so fast it'll make their damned head spin. I don't subscribe to the bullshit between Marines and Security. My brother was security. Only difference between Security and Marines are the colour of our uniforms, and possibly the tech. We do the same thing, fighting to keep the Federation safe." James told him.

"Good," Brayan told him. "Is there anything else ye'll be needin', Major?"

"No, sir." James replied. He wasn't sure what to make of the man, but he was sure he'd find out in time. "Just permission to get me men aboard and squared away."

"Do it," the Lieutenant Commander told him. "And if ye need anything, come tae me and I'll get it sorted. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." James said. He stood up, saluted the man and left the office. As he walked down the corridor, he tapped his comm. badge. "Racktor to Roughneck Transport, get permission to dock and have the Roughnecks square their gear away." He ordered.

He did wonder, though, how long it would be before the ship got broken in. He wasn't always looking for battle, but he expected it. Now, however, he had a major battle to win.

Ensuring his wife was happy being on a ship. He had only received the orders earlier in the morning, so hadn't had a chance to talk to Lucy.

But this was a battle he knew, if he handled it poorly, could be his last.

Wives could be so unforgiving.