No Place Like HQ
Posted on Mon Mar 31st, 2025 @ 2:38pm by Major Amelia St Lacroix
Mission:
Take My Hand
Location: USS Vesta - Marine Barracks
Timeline: MD01 (Prior to Unto the Inky Black)
1184 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure
On the flight line of the Marine hangar of the Esquimalt, ground crews secured goods and moved the last of the supplied towards the Albatross dropship. A few boxes were moved about, stashed in the hold of the craft to move over. Brand new projectile weapons lined the boxes, fitted and field tested to ensure they were ready before being swapped into the Vesta's armory. With the ship's full upgrade to flagship status, it meant a very different set of operating procedures that came with it. One of the most interesting part was the collection of what most referred to as the "colour guard duty" uniforms. Looking like the standard Starfleet duty uniform, though green to match the Marine duty colors, they were laced with energy dissipating threads and thin armour sheets sown in to look like regular uniforms. It would allow the Marines to look less scary than their battle armour offered, though with the drawback of not being as useful to protect them. Each was tailored to their user, carefully and painstakingly built by hand to ensure no issues that a replicator might induce when generating from a scan. Once created, the Marines could then replicate them to the same spec, though many would tell you nothing fit quite like the original. The last box in the selection was a new collection of equipment for their Recon armor, allowing for a baked in transport enhancer. Again, not as good as the full deal Starfleet could produce, but in testing allowed for a squad grouped together to be able to produce a large enough signature that all but the most dedicated of fields would pose little threat.
All in all, it made for a massive upgrade to their kit, and would make the Marines of the USS Vesta a far more potent force to be handled should anyone get any wise ideas about their posting. Amelia walked along the boxes with a quartermaster, each with a PaDD in hand, as they went through box by box to make sure nothing was amiss. It was a slow, tedious work, but it had to be done. As the pair moved past the last box Amelia let out a heavy sigh, and placed her PaDD down. "That is about all we need Warrant," she said, turning back to the entrance of the craft she nodded and paced back towards it. "I do not know if we will be out for long, but if we are, I expect there will be another round of this when we return." Not far behind her, the Warrant Officer in question followed both PaDDs tucked under his arm. The Betazoid man looked weary, it had been a large undertaking to get all the Marine supplies sorted, especially since the translocation of the station.
"I don't expect we'll be too busy ma'am, we'll sort an allotment aside for you when you come back regardless, and cycle in what we need. I expect it will be more than either of us expect knowing your post," he said almost with a chuckle. The scuttlebutt around the Marines about the Vesta had spread further, about their seemingly smooth integration, and more importantly the shift of the once vehemently anti-Marine Minawara into a strong supporter. Someone had even joking suggested submitting a memo to General MacTaryn to send him a bottle of the General's favourite whiskey as a thank you for making the Marine presence in Task Force 72 more prominent. "I took the time to get your flight path cleared, you are good to go. Unless there is anything else Major?" the man asked, stopping and stiffening as the flight crew approached.
"No, Warrant, I think that is perfect. Thank you as always for your hard work and dedication. Catch you portside," the Major said, returning the quickly offered salute as she followed the other Marines back aboard.
The Albatross banked across the dorsal section of the Vesta, pulling around the back of the nacelles to line up for the runabout pad. As it drifted toward, it pulled the nose up, deploying the landing gear and allowing the magnetic locks to come alive to seal the craft to the pad. A shudder through the frame of the vehicle as the pad began to descend, the wings folding up to allow it to more easily sink beneath the levels and into the belly. As the platform reached the bottom it began to slide forward until it reached the main bay with the rest of the runabouts. With a bit of engine input the craft rolled forward on it's wheels, the magnetic wheel locks snipping away. The Danube and Delta Flyer class passed by as the four bays empty at the rear came up. The pilots expertly rolled the craft forward, nosing into one of the empty bays and killing the engines and dropping the ramp. Already a group of Marines had arrived, snagging crates and moving it, Amelia nodding as she passed. She took a deep breath of the space, and sighed to herself looking around at the dimly lit space. Recycled air was recycled air, but there was a specific smell that she'd become acclimatized to on the Vesta. Did the Fleeters even notice, she wondered to herself. Did they really care?
Grabbing her own ruck she made her way past a few of the gathered members around, nodding politely to the few NCO's Fleet and Marine alike. It was a busy space, but it was the kind of busy where you knew little of it was for show. Everything was carefully choreographed to make sure that nothing got damaged and no one was injured. It was a short ride from the access point up to the the Marine barracks themselves where she could drop her kit. Much like the rest of the Vesta large potions of the barracks had seen minor upgrades, small tweaks to improve the use of the space and better integrate with some of the upgraded systems. One thing she mentally clocked as she passed was the new weapon racks outside each of the rooms for bunks. Care an attention had been given to make sure the Marines aboard were more of a ready response force for the vessel and her needs. It wasn't hard to see the small details that Admiral Minawara had allotted as part of the upgrades. Couches occupied the main space, and looked towards the centre of the room, with Amelia's eyes following the space to the floor. Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed a foot over a section and watched as the floor pushed open and revealed a holotable. It was a simple change, but it made space feel more complete in a way that she hadn't noticed missing. Tossing her stuff into her personal bunk she turned around. There was a bit of time before they launched, but she knew she had some work to do before then anyways. And she needed to make sure Buck wasn't up to too much trouble.
