The Baldie, The Clone, and the Sabre: Chapter 1

[Martzin]

April 2150
U.S.S. Sulaco

Reno's eyes slowly drifted open, feeling his senses coming back to him. He was almost immediately met with a dull soreness across his body from having laid in 1 position for so long while out in deep space. His thoughts began to piece together, and he was regaining his memories and what situation he was in. He began to writhe inside the pod, getting his body used to moving again.

Soon enough though the cryopod door hissed, and slowly lifted itself up. Reno leaned up and watched the other marines sluggishly get out of their pods, making their way through the showers to the Mess hall. Reno lifted his legs out and the second his feet hit the ground, a burning coldness darted up through his legs to the knee. He was use to this feeling though, after spending all his time out on space stations. His eyes squinted at the first sight of bright light, but he forced them open knowing he would need to get use to it. Reno stood himself up and twisted his back, popping it satisfyingly. Soon enough he heard the loudspeaker crackle and the CO announced:
"Reveille, marines, reveille! Briefing starts at 0010, get some chow and square away your shit!"

Reno walked over to the Mess Hall, where the troops were already emptying out vendors of pizza MREs. Reno quickly snatched one himself, and munched it down as he walked over to Charlie Prep, being one of the earliest marines there. The door slid open for him with a whirring sound, and he walked into the SL's room.
There, Reno opened the locker and took off his stinking underpants, and in place of it put his uniform and armor on top. He thought about the helmet for a moment, and pondered; Maybe I could try the B12 this mission? He hadn't used it before, and he said he would try it out some time. So he grabbed the B12, and placed it onto his head. He grasped the map of the colony on the table near him and stuffed it into his backpack, and then tuned his headset and ordered his marines to report in.
Most were still eating or in prep.

Reno went to the vendors, and ordered himself an M44 and some quickloaders-- and that was it. He figured he should focus more on leadership rather than combat, and so he took only the bare minimum required. As Reno was walking out, the bulk of the Platoon began to pass by him into Prep; they filled the hallways, completely crowding the rooms, and emptying the lockers and vendors of their possessions. Reno walked through the mess hall and into the Requisitions room, where to his delight, the RO line was still short. It was a bit surprising, but he wasn't going to complain. So he quickly slipped into the line and waited.

After 3-4 marines got their orders, he was infront of the RO's desk.
The Requisitions Officer was standing near the vendor, ready to throw an attachment at his face once he's given the order.
"Do you guys have any machetes?" Reno asked.
"Machetes?" the Req. Officer replied. "Yeah, I think we got a couple left."
The RO walked into the cargo room, where Reno waited for a few minutes. Eventually he came out, holding a machete holster in his hands, and tossed it onto the desk.

Reno quickly grabbed it and began to examine it, rubbing the leather holster with the tips of his fingers.
"It's not a machete," the Req. Officer said. "It's some fancy ass sword Wey-Yu ordered, and I had an extra one lying around, so I figured, why not?"
Reno grabbed the pommel and slowly slid it out of it's holster, where he was immediately taken by it's beauty.
The blade was curved and white, with the light gleaming off of it. The pommel was grey steel wrapped in a rubber handle, which made it easier to grasp in combat and more comfortable to hold. Not only was he gazing at it, but so were the rest of the marines, making witless remarks and loud whoops out of fascination. Reno felt the blade, and the RO asked:
"So, you gonna keep it or what?"
"Yeah..." Reno responded, "I'll keep this."
And so Reno proudly slid the sabre back into the holster, making a gratifying sheathing sound with it. He smugly walked his way towards Briefing, with his chin held up high the whole walk.

He stopped for a bit, looking at the chairs for Charlie Squad. He made his way to the very front row, sitting in the middle seat. Reno adjusted his sheath to make his position more comfortable, and leaned back. He again pulled out the sabre, and gazed at it in a self-satisfied manner.
"Nice sword sarge," He heard a fellow behind him say.
"It is nice," Reno replied. He looked over his shoulder, and immediately recognized the marine behind him. It was Robert Timmins, one of the privates in his squad. Everyone called him Caddy, for reasons he can't recall.
"You think it can go through Commies good?" Caddy asked.
"I guess we'll find out in battle, private."
"Yeah... I guess we will find out."

After that, they both ceased talking. Reno continued to sit back, observing the other soldiers. He felt he had something to be proud of for once; Just one sabre was all it took for him to prove his worth in the ranks of the Marines...
And so he layed back, watching the RO line get longer and longer as time went by. He watched all the marines pile into Briefing, filling up the spare chairs. He even saw 2 marines getting dragged by MPs out of Requisitions for fighting over the last barrel charger. As he watched, though, he noticed how many men were in his squad. He had an extraordinary amount of men, for a minute he thought there wouldn't be enough chairs to seat them all. He probably wouldnt've minded it so much if it weren't for the fact almost all of them were grunts, being unable to find any specialists or medics. The number of men in his squad was just a tad bit larger that of the other 3 squads. Reno did a quick head count and sat down afterwards; 20 people. He only got 1 medic and 1 specialist out of that. He began to evaluate how to keep the Squad in check while they're planet-side.

During his deep thinking, Reno heard the loudspeakers crackle up, and the CO barked:
"Briefing starts now, marines! RO line, shift yer fuckin' asses!"
Reno watched as men and women of the Corps began to flood into Briefing. He could tell they were all boots, and this must be their first drop; they were all idle and confused, not knowing what exactly to do during Prep, wearing their young and bright faces with it. He began to get a feeling of melancholy while watching the boots stumble around looking for chairs, knowing that not many might make it back, depending on the mission.

When most of the marines finally found seats, the CO had appeared on the platform, standing proud and high at the podium. He observed the Briefing room with his hawkish eyes and his wrinkly scarred face, signifying this man was no stranger to the Corps. He opened his mouth, and began to speak.
"For all you new marines out there, I am first lieutenant Simmons, your Commanding Officer."
There was a short pause. In this time, Reno realized the CO must've not been on the loudspeaker the whole time; his voice was too old, stern and calm for it to be the same loud and obnoxious one on the speaker. But before he could think any longer, Simmons continued:
"We've received a message from Wey-Yu on a distress signal sent from a colony called..." The CO looked down at the podium, and then raised his head again. "...A Lazarus Landing, on LV-426. Tonight we'll be dropping down there, boys and girls."
"Yutani has mentioned that there may be a couple of 'survivors' roaming around the colony, so if you find any take them back to the dropship or the pod for evac."
A grunt beside Reno nudged his arm and whispered, "Sounds like we're on pest duty."
"SL's, get out your maps now." the CO sternly said.
Reno pulled out the map: Lazarus Landing. It had the insignia of Weyland Yutani plastered in the far right corner. He studied it for a moment, and averted his attention back to the CO.
"Bravo, you'll be at Engineering getting the power on. Alpha, you will set up a FOB at the Nexus."
"...Delta will patrol along the south side of the river, and Charlie will patrol the colony and look for any survivors."
Reno let out a quiet sigh when he heard this. Charlie was almost always given the order of patrolling or standing guard on these kinds of missions.

"Any questions?" Simmons asked.
The Bravo SL, whom Reno remembered as Powalski, was raising his hand when the CO pointed at him.
"Did Wey-Yu tell us what we're fighting?"
The CO bit his lip for a temporary moment, before answering, "No. They didn't tell me shit about what we're fighting."
The marines, whom were very often rowdy and loud, had grown silent.
Powalski made an expression of surprise, confusion, and disgust all in one face, raising his brow while looking thoughtfully at Simmons.
"Anyone else?" Simmons continued. But this time nobody raised their hand, despite their being a heavy air of hesitance and suspense in the room.
"Alright then, marines. Get ready to head planetside."
Reno stood up and grabbed his backpack, sliding it onto his shoulders. He held the bottom of his sabre's pommel, thinking it might help alleviate the tension in the room.
The shutters quickly lifted open, and the marines went down the ladders, squad-by-squad.
Reno led his squad on-board the renowned UD-4L Cheyenne dropship that serves onboard the Sulaco, a ship the PO named the Rasputin, a name which most of the marines have grown to become fond of.

"Let's go, marines! All aboooard!" The Pilot yelled out, as the marines strapped into the seats. Reno pulled the seat restraints down, securing him safely.
More and more marines began to fill the seats of the Rasputin, and beside Reno sat a recognizable face:
Ray Dubi.

"Alright marines, keep your hands and feet inside the dropship at all times, and enjoy the ride down!" Oorah!"
The Pilot turned around and entered the cockpit.
"Charlie Squad, Charlie squad, come in!" Reno heard on his headset.
"This is Charlie's SL, Reno."
"Reno, I'll be your overwatch officer for tonight's op, executive officer Weaver Watkins! Do as I say and we'll be back in the chow hall by tomorrow morning, oorah!"
"Oorah, XO. Do we have any specific orders currently?"
"Not yet, staff sergeant. Just rally Charlie and carry out primary orders."
"Affirmative. Charlie out."
"Out."
Soon after the conversation, Reno heard on the radio: "Rasp's going down!" And soon after he felt the ground underneath him lift, pinning him in his chair.
Reno took a deep breath in, briefly overviewing his orders and how to go about them.
"Who were you talking to?" Dubi asked, looking towards Reno.
"Oh, me?" Reno responded. "It was the XO."
"The XO? He seems like a big fuckin' glory hound, from what I heard in the mess hall."
"Eh. He seems okay from what I've seen... maybe a bit overbearing on the comms."
"And our CO's a 90-year old man... he's probably gonna have a heart attack when we land, hehe."
"The CO seems like a gruff old vet," another marine responded. He was a private from Bravo, sitting at the seat infront of Ray's, whom Reno couldn't recognize.
"You seen how many scars he's got on his face? He musta seen some fuckin' shit, man."
"Nah, he probably got it in a mumblety-peg accident."
The other marine snickered and said, "Haha, yeah. Maybe."
The pilot finally exited the cockpit and hollered out, "Get ready, jarheads! We're about to land!"
He quickly went back inside his cockpit, and Reno prepared to sprint out as soon as the dropship landed so he wasn't pushed to the very back. Eventually, he heard the thunderous roar of the Rasputin approaching ground, and then the whole ship shook.
He quickly lifted the chair bars and sprinted out of the ship, followed by a stampede of marines stomping on the ground with their boots.
"Charlie Squad, rally right outside LZ1!"
Reno's headset immediately blew up with responses from his tons of grunts, causing him to clench his fists in response to the stinging in his ear afterwards.
He saw a couple of his men line up infront of him, their weapons ready. He waited for the rest of the horde of jarheads to clear out, and once the dust settled he had the whole squad in front of him.
Reno began to leisurely walk by the line, examining his marines. He noticed the boots at the far right of the line in the Position of Attention.
"At rest, boots."
The recruits immediately went into their own comfortable standing position, and Reno began to give his squad the sitrep.
"Alright, jarheads. Our orders are to patrol the colony of any survivors and return them to the LZ's."
Reno kept walking at his leisurely pace, eyeing down the face of a boot.
"Specialist, step forward from the line."
At the very far left end of the line, one man stepped out: Charlie's only specialist, Lochlann Healy. He faced straight forward with his unkempt beard, cigarette in his mouth.
Reno motioned for Healy to turn around, and then he stood next to him.
"We'll be splitting the squad into 2 fire-teams. Mine is Fireteam A, Lochlann's is Fireteam B."
Reno grouped 10 out of the 20 people to Healy's right, and the other 10 to his own left.
All of the troops within the squad went into their respective fireteams, except for one: the medic.
"Is there a problem, Kopchek?" Reno asked.
"Sir, I don't know which fireteam to go with..."
Reno sniffled, and turned to look at the fireteams. Healy looked back at Reno.
Finally, he turned back to Vasilia. "You'll be in my fireteam."
"Aye, sir!" Vasilia responded, and gave a quick salute before running into the line.
Reno quickly pulled the map out from one of his pockets, and observed it for a second.
"Lochlann, take your fireteam and patrol the south side of the colony. My fireteam will be patrolling the north side."
"Aye, sir!" Healy yelled.
"Alright, marines. Let's move out!"
A few marines yelled out a quick 'Oorah!' before they were rallied out. Lochlann quickly gathered his fireteam and led them out through south nexus, whilst Reno had his men go straight west, where they observed Alpha setting up the defenses at the center. They were marching their through the west nexus hallway whilst observing the complete blanket of darkness outside, like it was a wall of vantablack. As they marched closer, a marine yelled: "It's like a closet out there!"
Reno heard the click of the soldiers turning on their armor lights, and so they marched outside, protected by a small bubble of light from the nothingness around them.

[McRipfist]

Really good. Can't wait for the next chapter.

[Eenkogneeto]

Too bad the scouting squad is doomed to die.
R I P

[Martzin]

Yeah, the patrolling squads are completely fucked.
That's pretty normal though.

Anyways, expect for Chapter 2 to be up in maybe 3-4 days, at least by the beginning of next week.
Oh, and go ahead and point out any errors or whatever you might stumble upon while reading.

[Monoo]

Very enjoyable so far... I'll keep an eye out for the next one.