“Right, asses in gear and move it!”

A bit later, and the troopers executed a crisp salute at the female Senior Sergeant who gaze sternly at them so early in the morning.
“Once again, I don’t give a rat’s ass about which you are, Now report to the Simulator room in ten minutes sharp. We’ve got a training mission I’d like to get started with.”
*Ten minutes Later*

The stood in one of the Simulated Missions.  Already loaded to the server and their headgear. Around them was a destroyed city, only piles of debris remaining of the houses in the urban area. The large buildings that once stood so fierce and proud reduced to half their size and crumbling. Flames was still blazing about in a thick smoke of ashes and death.

“I want you lot to spread out and search survivors, your gear will be a DC-15 blaster pistol, grapple guns and a med-aid kit, anything else you need to fashion from the junk lying around, now get to it!”  Aeos snapped while handing out the gear.

OOC:

Now guys, its simple. All I want you lot to do, is rescue the damsels in distress. You're allowed to add your own personal plot line if you want, but please refrain from messing with my story like adding in rebels,

Amazed again at the complexity of technology, Etai immersed himself in the simulation.  This is a lot better than real fire zones.  That way if one of these recruits isn’t so apt, some other good trooper won’t get his head burned off.  Once they were released into the burned city, Etai set off at a pace equal with his other comrades.  His path arched out, over streets cracked and splintered at the duracrete stress points.  Small plumes of fire added warming layers of heat that seeped through the armor when he leered too close to one. 

    He focused on the debris and his headgear.  He had his optical interface set to temperature variance, wind direction, and sound amplification.  These helmets are a wonder.  Why don’t they just use droids?  Angling sharply to the right of the main road they started from, Etai had to holster his pistol and use both hands to hurdle and climb the ruined sky towers.  Over a short time, he found himself becoming weary, but pressed onward.
A few times he had to crouch and moderate distances to continue his route.  Mostly, though he watched his armor get continually scuffed and scratched with black marks as he scrabbled and wriggled through the wrecked building.  Finally, as he neared the foundation of the former structure, he saw a ruined stairwell that would have led up to the second floor.  On the other side of the room, the turbolift doors were crushed inward.  No service, there.  Guess I’m using this nifty thing, he chuckled to himself pulling out the grappling gun. 

              He took a minute figuring out how it would fire, then braced himself and shot the compressing spike into the layer of duracrete above.  It stuck underneath a leveled windowsill, and Etai engaged the rappel.  The gun had a long thick bar at the rear of the weapon just for these movements, so he latched himself accordingly and held on for all he was worth.  On the way up, he scanned the area with his headgear.  The readings yielded no life, but with all the fire around he doubted that he could detect a specific sentient heat signature.

              As he arrived below the sill he swung his legs onto a short, jutting lip and pulled himself over.

As Doriana glances at her surroundings, the building on her left seemed to have a hot spot of flames in it. There was no emotion on Doriana's face as she stepped up to one of the ruined buildings, There was a crunching of glass at her feet as she stepped upon it. What the hell happened here?

She thought to herself. Doriana thought she heard groaning coming from an area near her in the rubble. She stepped up to the area without hesitation and started to dig in the rubble with her grappling hook. Doriana uncovers the rubble from on top of a woman who cries out as she is pulled from the rubble with Doriana's help.

The woman appears to be in pain and tells Doriana that she hurts too much and to let her die in peace. "Nonsense, ma'am you'll be fine we just have to get you out of here." The woman sighs as she is laid upon a stretcher. Doriana pats her hand as the woman is evacuated out of there and Doriana continues on her search for more victims.

Doriana came upon a building where she heard cries for help, firing her grappling hook she climbs to the window and says, "I'll help you in a bit soon as I can get inside if I can get inside." She kicks at the wall surrounding the window making the window pop out and she pulled her smallish frame into the room,

She coughed as there was a lot of smoke in the building as the building was on fire and could come down any minute. She looked around at her surroundings. The walls were blackened with smoke and soot and ash was on the walls,

"Quickly, those who can and will get out the window and slide down the rope, i'll follow you!" Doriana made sure the people were out first and sliding down the rope to the ground before she, herself climbed out the window, slid down to the ground and retracted her grappling hook just before the building explodes as the rescued and Doriana run about a block away.

Oh damn! If there was anyone in that building alive, there isn't now. She breathed a sigh of relief as she checks over the rescued seeing not a scratch on them. Some of them were coughing. "Are you all alright?" One of the youngest ones frowns and says with a sad tone in her voice. "I want my mommy!"

"Funny how I always seem to go out at night," Hart thought to himself. Of course, it was necessity which led him to pursue his missions at night, where the darkness would hide his movements, but still.

Sitting in an abandoned warehouse across the street, Hart watched the front entrance to the warehouse with sharp eyes. One days had passed since the satellite images had led them to the exact locations of the survivors

Hart had immediately ruled out residential areas. While it was possible that the Survivors could be hiding inside one of the houses or apartments.

Hart stared hard at the warehouse with his macrobinoculars. It was as good a lead as any.
Hart strapped a vest around him. It held a series of blocks of detonite, moldable high explosive. Hart had attached it to a sensitive firing system, and keyed the firing system in with a tiny remote detonator. Opening his mouth he slipped the detonator between his back teeth.

Finally, he donned a black mask. The only uncovered part was a small oval slit that allowed Hart to see. The Trainee adjusted his headset, making sure flip down visor was good over the mask.

Hart stepped outside onto the dark street, checking the charge on his rifle.

Hart double clicked his comm, signalling a acknowledgement. His steps brought him to the suspected warehouse, He ducked into the alley, looking for any kind of side entrance that would he preferable to knocking on the front door.

There was movement on the wall. Hart realised it was a security hammer, slowly turning to scan both sides of the alley. Hart waited until the right moment, ducking out of the camera's field of view as it turned and hugged the wall underneath it.
On the far side of the camera, Hart's gloves gripped a ladder than ran up onto the warehouses ceiling. He ascended, taking care to give a quick scan of the rooftop before he climbed silently onto the roof.

A small series of vents dotted the warehouse roof, but Hart ruled out trying to scamper through whatever air system this building had. 
The only other point of interest was a small hatch. Hart crouch-walked over to it, tugging gently on the handle. It didn't give.

Running a small scanner over the hatch, Hart checked the thing for booby traps or alarms. He also tried inserting a fiber optic cable inside to view the space beyond, but all he got was darkness.

Finally, Hart went to work on the hatch lock with his lockpick. After a minute or so, there was a click that told Hart he had unlocked the hatch. He pulled open the hatch, lowering himself through, blaster carbine ready.

He found himself on a metal catwalk, suspended high above a dark warehouse room. Hart slid a rappel cable out of his belt. He secured it to the catwalk, swinging out over the darkness and flipping on his night vision as he hit the deck below.

Hart was confident he and his team could manage. Presently, the hall was deserted and not a single sound issued from the surrounding rooms.On high-alert, Hart sensed fleeting movement within the room, though his eyes weren't quick enough to spot the source. In his periphery there was another flash of motion with no indication of what or where it was, for not a sound had been made; there was still only deafening silence and darkness. But Hart definitely had a guest or two.

He turned slowly around in a circle, rifle panning the darkness, his breathing quiet.
Slowly, Hart unslung the weapon, pulling it away from his body. It pained him to do so, and went against every facet of his training, but he did so anyway. He set the E-11 down at his feet, taking a step away and opening his hands, palms outward.

There was a faint rustle behind Hart that brought him about. Then, darkness as his nightvision visor went dead. Even without the aid of his equipment, Hart's trained ear could detect the minute change in air pressure indicative of a solid object shifting into position before him. Flanking him, another unseen body moved in behind him.

"Dont shoot" said a women voice.
All lights in the room sparked to life. A figure moved into view. Younger, smaller than the others...

OOC:

Right Hart, just to let you know, the basic format we use here in the VE is as follows.
We use our italics to indicate thoughts, not speech.  Just remember that in the future.

"I requested an immediate evacuation protocol, I am with a survivor and she need to be questioned about what happened here."

"ETA Ten minutes."

Is that so?? Aeos thought to herself as her eyes narrowed.  She allowed her thoughts to run over things.
“Trooper, you can bring her in yourself, report back to me asap,”
“Yes, Ma’am” he retorted after a while.

Aeos walked a small circle around her standing spot in the clearance between all the rubble before she made herself comfortable on the closest boulder to her side.  The silhouette of Hart and his company was dimming out from afar through the thin layer of debris mist.

“Private Hartigan reporting Sir!”
“At ease Private,” Aeos muttered flippantly while her eyes traveled to the female survivor.
“Terminate this pedestrian Operator,”
Hartigan’s mouth opened in protest nthough he refrained from any vocal sound while the image of Talira distorted into nothingness.
“I take note of you initiative trooper, but the objective is search and rescue, that clone was of no priority to be rescued, taken into custody yes but not to be rescued. When I mean rescue, I mean the those who are not able to help themselves, if the civilian is fine, you leave him be, because another civilian might be in need of more urgent assistance, remember to distinguish between those you can save and those you cannot save. My personal opinion is a shot through the head can also be an act of mercy,”
Aeos stared up at trooper in front of her. He was taller by far and he held himself composed. Already he was displaying the qualities the Army wanted in their troopers. Initiative, efficient and no bullshitting.
“You’ve done good so far Private, I fear there is still so much you need to learn, but I’m of meaning that what you need to learn can only be taught by experience in the field, “
“Yes, Ma’am,” Hartigan replied keeping his face and focus straight, stern and unwavering. ‘
“You’re dismissed to continue with the objective,”
Hart executed another crisp salute, turned on his heel as he started walking away from her.
“And Hartigan…” It was the first time she called a private by his name.
“Yes, Ma’am?” he asked turning around, slightly confused.
“Watch out for getting attached to people, and I’m not talking about the simulator,”

There was still about seven floors left of the sky unit, as Etai figured it.  He rolled his head to work out the slow aches building at his shoulders.  As he walked briskly between small piles of burning debris and smoldering ruins he continually scanned the area.  Nothing came up, but the levels of the sky unit were meter thick slabs of duracrete that his helmet HUD couldn’t read through. 

This time, the stairwell wasn’t knocked out at the base.  Etai kept his back flush against the building wall and shimmied up the steps.  Occasionally, a step would crumble beneath him, and he’d have to lean upward to keep from falling.  At another point a series of three steps turned to rubble beneath him and he bounded across the stairwell to the other side.  He sweated the entire climb, the joints of his suit becoming sticky and uncomfortable.  With a quick vocal command, and a tone of irritation unconsciously added, he adjusted the inner temperature of the suit. 

At the top of the stairs, he turned and found an obvious heat signature ahead of him.  It was an adult sentient body, laying prone.  Being crushed more like it!  He thought in surprise as he identified the position of the arms and legs.  The body seemed to pinned and straining to rise.  It would flex and move – then after a  few seconds give out and go slack.  Definitely a survivor. 

Etai had to traverse several mounds of smoldering and flaming debris before he got into line of sight to the victim.  It was a human male trapped beneath a fallen duracrete pillar.  The pillar was boxed against a large chunk of fallen rubble from the ceiling.  The man’s head, chest, and one leg were visible, but the other leg was underneath the concrete.  A small line of blood had formed at the jagged edge of the crushing pillar where it was steadily cutting into the man’s thigh. 

Etai rushed to him, he took his helmet off and crouched down.  “Easy, easy, “ He cautioned as the man attempted to squirm and buck.  The only thing that happened was an additional few droplets of blood ran from the wound across his thigh.  “I’m going to help get you out of this.  Just calm down.”  The victim seemed afraid and in shock, but he eventually stopped the resistance to Etai. 

First, he scoped out the area around the fallen pillar.  The cylindrical piece of design had landed squarely on an angled groove in the piece of ruined ceiling.  “Well, there’s no moving this thing by rolling it.” He said out loud – more to himself than for the man.  After a few seconds he asked, “ I’m Etai, by the way.  Are you well enough to speak?”
“Mord.” The man muttered after several seconds of silence, “ I’m Mord.” 

He sounded fraile and weak.  Etai couldn’t imagine the amount of pain the man must have been going through.  He needed to resolve this quickly.  Every moment he spent thinking instead of acting was another moment that Mord’s life slowly ebbed away.  Working up a passion in himself, he stood with a fire of his own in his eye.  “ Well, Mord, I’m going to get you out of this mess.  Just stay with me, listen to me, and we’ll get through it.” 

He knew that he sounded brave, but inside he was biting his nails.  There’s no way I can move that pillar, and I’ve no idea how long this building is going to keep standing.  Here, he glanced at the rooms around him, watching ironically as part of an adjacent wall cracked and fell inward.  The flurry of sparks coursed up and Etai brushed them aside with annoyance.  It was then that he noticed a piece of plasteel plating thread, used to join sections of duracrete together.  It had been snapped smoothly off the wall.  Etai stared at it, enthralled – beginning to mull over a hazily forming idea. 

Then he had it.  Picking up the piece of plasteel he walked around to the trapped man and looked him in the eye, hoping that his fear would not be as visible as it felt.  “Mord, you’re going to have to settle with a prosthetic replacement.”

The man’s eyes went wide with terror and his mouth started to open in protest.  Only a harsh croak came out, and Etai wasn’t going to wait until a plea could be formed.  He struck down powerfully on Mord’s thigh.  He could feel the sharp rod vibrate in his hands at the moment of the bone's break.  Mord screamed once, and Etai swung again quickly – cutting towards himself as he did.  The motion separated most of the thigh and he had to try for one more.  Mord was bellowing in pain and Etai turned his anger on anywhere but himself.  Damn Army should give us pain meds!  For every soldier going into training scenarios!  The last cut separated the leg, and the man was free of the pillar.

  Within the first sight of his remaining stump, Mord fainted.  Etai swallowed back the impulse to vomit and forced himself to look at the sloppily done amputation.  He sighed and drew a deep breath.  Part of the job, I guess.  Better he have no leg at all than be dead and unable to use either.  He slumped down and pulled the unconscious Mord over his shoulder.  As gently and carefully as he could, he made his way out of the building and through the surrounding destruction.  He radioed in to his drill instructor, “ Private Etai coming to the jump zone with severly wounded.  My ETA is three minutes.  Survivor needs immediate medical attention.  Have a prosthetics team brought up – he’s lost a leg and is in shock.”

OOC:

You lot are free to exit the simulators and take a break, wirte about what you want to with your character, interaction with other people outside the battle field, example: take a look at my post

Aeos bit her lip grinning impishly as the older male tapped his finger against the glass muttering a sentence along the way. At least, where she lacked in age in comparison with him, she made up with field experience.
“Call it a personal congratulation,” she muttered in reply, her hand reaching to her pocket and pulling out her datapad. She placed it on the smooth reflective surface of the counter and slid it over to him.

Curious, Hart reached out for it, and dragged it till his eyes could read the screen.
“Wraith Squad? The next level in the Academy?”
“No, it’s a squad in the Wildcard platoon,”

A grin broke across his face, his drink suddenly forgotten.
“ Easier than I thought, oh-“
Her screen glowed brightly before it the light dissipated again.  Curious Aeos took the datapad from Hartigan to read the incoming message.
It was her turn to grin.
“Good news I assume?”
“Promotions and payraise,” she muttered still grinning.
“Anyhowz-“ she stuck her datapad away and turned back to him, staring at with azure eyes fringed by spiky gold bangs.
“Congratulations, you’re no longer my business in the Academy,” she muttered while making another order at the barmen to fill glass a up. It was quite clear to anyone that Aeos frequented the bar often.
“No longer your business? So that means we can be friends, right?”  he smirked as he took a swig to his glass before hopping onto the seat next to her.

“I don’t throw the word friends around that easily,” she replied dryly while stifling a yawn.
“By the way, where’s the recruits?”
“Still in the sim, I’ll head over in a minute to cut them break,” \
“Till then, we call it quality bonding time?”
“You’re a Private, “
“I’m older than you,”
“So child-like to bring that up,” she retorted while trying to hide the grin.

{Private Jearen Malix had never seen a simulator like this before. To him it seemed foolish to send him into a room to pretend to rescue civilians, when he had plenty of experience dealing with combat and death in Compforce.}

{He stepped into the simulated war zone with his weapon at the ready. He saw many of his fellow trainees had already began their searches, and were spread out with little regard for their surroundings. It wasn't his job to play nursemaid. In Compforce you either learned to be tactical or you practiced being dead.}

{He made his way down the street to what once was a four tier apartment complex. Now the only thing left was shabby walls, and a cracked floor that suggests a basement is underneath. He moves inside with his weapon at the ready and after a few moments finds some stairs leading into a pitch black hole. With a piece of canvas, and a chank of wood, he manages to fashion himself a torch. He dips the fabric in a nearby fire and lights it before pausing at the top of the stair.}

{He looks at the hole then at his comrades before clicking his helmets com unit on.}

Malix: "Someone break away and cover me?"

OOC:

Doomblade, please refrain from writing in that form, we write from third person's view in the past tense:

Example:
Man: "Your wasting your time..."
[23:12] Malix: "Anyone I can contact for you?"
[23:12] {The man shakes his head and winces as the weight on his lower half shifts. Malix pulls out his medkit and loads up his airhypo with a lethal dose of painkiller.}

"You're wasting your time..." the man said to him,  Malix frowned at this.
"Anyone I can contact for you?"
The man shook his head and winced as the weight of his lower half shifted. Malix pulled out his medkit and loaded up his airhypo with a lethal doese of painkiller.

We write in a RPG/Fanfiction style, if you understand what I mean?

Aeos glanced at her wrist chrono, she was already back at the simulator room.
"Cut the mission," she snapped at the sim-operator.
"Yes, Ma'am,"  he muttered back while flipping the various of switches, returning the troopers back to their original positions in a square grey room.

"Right! Grab your rifles, target practive at three in the court yard outside the Academy, move it!"

Vek walked down the hallway towards the simulator room. In his hand he held a datapad pad for a one GSGT. Aeos. Attached to his back was his DC-15 blaster rifle, and in his left hand, his helmet.

Stepping up to the sim rooms door he nodded to the man in the control room. The door buzzed, and slid open. Vek stepped inside, then made his way over to the group of soldiers, and a female officer giving commands.

Vek stepped up to the officer he spoke.


"GSGT. Aeos?"

She noded.

"This is for you."

Vek handed over the datapad, and saluted.

"Private Verkur reporting."

After the little show, Verkur spent a few seconds wiping the apple sauce off his head. He made his way over to where he had been practicing, the gravel of the courtyard crunching under his feet like the skulls of future enemy's, ones he would take pleasure in crushing. Verkur picked up his rifle, and began to take aim.

He shot off a few rounds. The kick of his rifle was definitely something he was not used to, but would with time. The next few rounds were placed with terrible accuracy, none hitting were he wanted them to go. Verkur ejected the clip and popped in a new one. This time he decided to make every shot of this clip count. Every round was placed on his target. Not perfect hits, but an improvement.

Verk went through at least six more clips. Still he was not happy with the small amount of progress he had made. However at least he would be able to hit his target if he ever got into a fire fight. Verk moved across the court yard and up to Gunnery Sergeant Aeos. Saluting her he spoke.

"Mam, I need to get some more ammo. I'm all out."

Entering the gunnery range, Kalor approached the Sergeant, orders in hand.

"Ma'am, Private Kalor Alros, reporting for training."

The instructor took his orders, and ordered him onto the firing range. The private did as instructed, moving to a firing position, without unslinging his rifle. Once there, he moved quickly, swinging the rifle up to the ready position, and began firing as soon as he was on target, two shots at a time. He fired until the magazine emptied, and reloaded, before moving to the next target. He missed a few shots, but more often than not, one of his two rounds hit the appropriate target.

He continue firing, reloading when necessary, until he was out of ammunition. He removed the magazine, safed his weapon, making sure it was pointed at the ground, and approached the instructor.

"Ma'am, I've used all of my ammunition. What would you like me to do?"