-The Sulaco echoes from constant shouting. The cluster of solider's stampede off the shuttle with sweat dripping from beneath their helmets. The intercom chimes in, signaling all the personnel to make their way to briefing for their acknowledgments.
-The Sulaco's prestigious staff sets aside their work and head directly towards the briefing auditorium. Once everyone is settled down (it's approximately ten minutes before this can occurs) the Commander begins conducting his congratulatory to the marines bellow his podium. No medals are given out but the squad leaders call up their finest men and women to commend them for their valor. The staff is thanked once again for obtaining another successful shift while the marines were away. The speech draws to a close as cheers are expressed throughout the room in ravenous outbursts of laughter and unorthodox shrieks. Everyone talking over one another, spreading the victory aura throughout the ship. A final announcement is made over the radio informing the crew to enjoy their short leisure time before they must get back to cyro-sleep.
-The groups disperse in their own little segments while most of the crowd scurries to the small cafeteria for some brutal war stories and even stronger drink. The room quickly becomes hostile with a nicotine induced fog with a whiff of tainted alcohol. Broken bottles riddle the once sparkly tiles, crumbs and ashes make their march across the tables, it seems the whole place has gone awry.
-Oddly enough, you take notice that someone is missing. There isn't someone complaining about all the cigarette butt's or broken glass sprawled on the floor. Nobody to nag on about the harmful effects of smoking. Nobody to barge through the brawny marines to fetch their emptied plates. Yes, of course, Cub isn't around. For whatever reason, you decide to check his office since it's so close anyhow.
-Upon your short trek, you pass by a hard-hatted male whom you've never seen before. He dons the familiar purple attire that Cub would commonly wear but that's about as much as you could make of the man as he zoomed by. You make it to the glass airlock only to step back as another purple garbed male wanders out with a cart stocked with sprays and boxes in front of him. The only sounds heard are of the squeaky cart wheels Cub always complained about. You take just one glance before entering the tiny room and breathe in the blank and lifeless atmosphere.
-Carefully wandering inside, your attention is diverted to the only spark in the room, a short, simple wooden desk with papers scattered across the deck. Sitting aloft also includes a small nostalgic computer that continues to pulse a green illumination. The monitor gives off a muffled buzz and you can see from afar it supports a poor quality over all.
There also seems to be an advertisement taped on the machine-
► Show Spoiler
Once again you address your attention to the simple little device, it's green ambiance radiates and almost harms your eyes just looking at it.
An application is already opened from a previous user, the above title reads "EMPLOYMENT RECORD"
There doesn't appear to be any other option other than inputting command prompts so you take a look at what is available
You squint your eyes and begin reading------------------------------ PRINT DOCUMENT--> (To actually read it) Print
► Show Spoiler
Glancing down you inspect the random assortments of letters and papers. Some haven't even been opened while others are torn apart.
There's an overturned picture frame on the corner of the desk. After turning it right side up you see see a brown haired man with a close resemblance of Cub. Next to him stands a blonde haired lass with a wide smile and gleaming teeth. Below them is handsome young boy who's frowning and looking in the opposite direction of the camera. One word, "Love," is etched into the bottom of the portrait.
Out of all the the mess and parchments there is a loose pink paper poking out the side of a folder
► Show Spoiler
They make their way down the halls, escorting the shabby desk to the hangar. There awaits a small skiff stocked with Cub's belongings. The Aerospace Sanitation Inc. logo is compressed into the port. It's paint is worn so much that one could simply scrape it off with their nail.
You stumble back into the small cafeteria where things have toned down some.
Once again, the intercom beeps in with it's ear piercing effect.
There's a short pause before anything is said. People look up in question as the channel remains quiet.
"Hello e-everyone.."
After a moment, Cub announces himself over the microphone. Some marines and staff members go back to their conversations as he speaks while some others intently listen in.
His voice lacks emotion and it's rasping and almost strained.
"I just wanted to say, to.. to all of you, that I've had the greatest pleasure of serving under you. It's been a few fantastic years, e-even though you have picked on me, and let me down, and did everything to make my job that much more difficult. That said, at the end of the day, I've always considered you all like my family. A family I've grown attached to and one I never thought I'd see let go. There comes a time when you have to say goodbye. What I'm trying to say is.. I've been fired."
There are some laughs going on among the room followed by comments of "good riddance" and "finally."
"The Sulaco doesn't require my service anymore. My career has come to it's halt. Perhaps it's for the best.. you're all matu- well, you're all grown up and can handle yourselves. I know I can rely on you all to keep the place clean and tidy as I always have. I trust that you will all make me proud and keep the ship as sterile as possible. Due to some budget cuts and other instances, I must turn in my towel and bid you adieu. CentComm has informed me personally that a fine festered crew such as yourselves will clean and take care of the ship with no problem. To that, I wish you luck."
The room has suddenly morphed back to what it once was, an uproar of commotion and babbling. It's so loud you mishear part of the speech so you simply step outside to the hall where it's crystal clear communication.
"Goodbye everyone, I will commemorate you all till my days are done. Thank you, again, for making my job hard all these years. It's taught me to push and strive for anything even when it doesn't seem worth it. Well... good luck on your endeavors, Marines. Don't be too hard on your wonderful staff, eh? Goodbye, and as always, Stay cle-"
The microphone shuts off with a sharp click. The ship retains it's creaks and echoes from before.
Out from the bridge walks a sleazy suited man followed by a depressed elder, barely able to speak another word.
A pat on the back is the only action committed between the two opposite individuals. No conversation occurs from the initial walk till the foot of the craft.
After taking a seat, Cub plummet's his face into the cold clenches of his hands.
A moment after, the lavish man tucks his PDA into the pocket of his blazer. He stares for a moment and sighs towards Cub before speaking in an upbeat fashion.
"So... Pal? How ya doin'?"
There is nothing from Cub. No words. No movement. The question fades straight through him.
"Look buddy. I know you thought you were important, but you're not. Don't you get it? The Marines wouldn't be wasting precious space and the extraordinary expense to house such a useless person. The crew can handle it themselves, like other vessels do"
Silence still commands the room. The Nanotrasen operative steps into the shuttles cockpit, leaving Cub to his own busy thoughts.
Tears emerge through Cub's fingers as the deficient shuttle cringes and cracks upon startup.
The skiff disembarks from the troop transport ship-soon to make it's journey back to Earth.
Everything is well for the Sulaco.
There is one less person to worry about.
Everything is back to normal.
Everything is as it should be.
