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The headquarters company of the Durasteel Tigers is located in an underground bunker, still solid and intact after heavy combat. Rayshielded and concealed from satellite observation, the bunker's location was once a top government secret, and many high-level officials lay in hiding here during the pirates' attack and occupation. The walls are massively thick ferrocrate with durasteel plating along the inner wall as well as the outer, with a layer of composite along the outside to confound ground-penetrating sensors. Inside, the command center consists of parking and maintenance space for dozens of heavy armored vehicles, repair facilities, ammo bunkers, and armories, all connected by a maze of corridors designed to make storming it very costly. All the vehicle facilities are close to the entrance, the interior corridors are much too narrow, barely wide enough for two armored soldiers to pass side by side. The maze of twisting passageways were once all alike, but the Durasteel Tigers have posted markers at key intersections. People familiar with the Durasteel Tigers' route markings are generally able to find their way without error.
[Exits : [LZ] Landing Zone, and [CB] Central Belden ]
[Players : Major_Disaster, and Micheal_Harris ]
[Things : M1A6 Blower #690, M2A4 Ursa #681 'Butcher', FNA21 1100K Skimmer Jeep #663(#663X), M2A4G Ursa #619 'Reaper', Skimmer #669(#669X), M9A3 Combat Car #624(#624X), Tactical Map, and Quartermaster Object ]
Ben Magnan is a thin, nervous-looking man in his early twenties. He's got mousy brown hair that's already thinning, and washed-out-brown eyes. He's got a narrow face and a weak chin, with a sallow complection. His gangly appearance is indicative of his lack of coordination, and he doesn't move so much as stumble along from place to place. He has narrow shoulders and a toastrack chest, but spindly legs, though he keeps it all going well enough.
He's currently wearing the uniform of the Durasteel Tigers - gunmetal gray with subdued rank and unit markings that can be seen close up, but are hard to pick out from any distance. They mark him as a 1st Lieutenant in a Combat Cars unit. His tailor is quite skilled, because he doesn't look like a total dork despite everyting to the contrary. He at least looks very pleased with himself, though his uniform shows no ribbons and he has no service stripes indicating longevity. His heavy utility belt seems ready to fall off his narrow hips under the weight of a pair of Heuvelman H94-X's.
Carrying: 1LT Ben Magnum's Tanker's Vest With Plates, Mitchell T21AR, and Heuvelman H94-X
Sergeant Arnold P. Davis is by no means a pleasant looking individual. Standing 6 foot 3, and weighing in at no less than 240 pounds, it would be easy to mistake him for a angry shaven gorilla. Already half way through his 3rd decade, his features have gained the haggard lines of a veteran, scarred and battered by time and old wounds.
The sergeant's greying black hair has been buzzed down to his scalp, revealing the jagged white scar that hooks from the center of his hairline, over the top of his skull and back down and around beneath his left ear . He has bushy black brows with flecks of grey, set over perpetually narrowed eyes of a crazed electric blue. A web of hard frown lines are etched into his stubbly cheeks, mirrored in the weathered skin of his forehead and the corners of his eyes. The rest of his features are thick-boned and blocky, with heavy cheekbones, thick expressive lips, and a brutish jaw. His equally stubborn nose has been broken and set so many times, it is now the lumpy, crooked snout of a boxer.
Despite his plainly advancing years, there is no slump to the man's broad shoulders. His body is bulky and extremely muscular, with his height and heavy bone structure giving him an intimidating hulk-like presence. Only adding to his intimidating image are the myriad black tribal-like tattoos, and horrible twisted scars visible against the tanned skin of his arms and chest when clothing happens to be absent.
He is currently wearing a gunmetal grey vest of beryllium monocrystal weave, with a simple black patch on the left breast placing his rank at SGT 1st Class. Beneath the patch are 4 horizontal black lines, marking out the terms he has already served with the Tigers. Currently he wears The heavy armored vest open in the front, its armor pouches currently empty, though the extra ammo slots are not. Beneath the vest he wears a tight grey undershirt that strains against his impressive physique, leaving his arms bare. A black fabric belt with a painted black buckle is threaded through the loops of his gunmetal grey fatigues, while On his feet are a pair of black combat boots.
A single Heuvelman 107AP is holstered at his right hip, the simple yet rugged weapon an ever present fixture of the hulking, ill-tempered sergeant.
Carrying: SFC Davis's LMR2 Light Ceramic Combat Shell, Heuvelman 107AP, and Heuvelman IA17
Michael Harris has a light tone to his visage. None the less, one might call his look swarthy. His hair is short and brown, typical for service, but with a slight squarish outline. He's quite obviously scarred from either training or battle and his framing MIGHT belie some combat readiness but...he's a bit on the chunkier side with what looks to be a very average build. His movement is surprisingly dexterous however...especially for such a wide, stocky looking frame. It sure isn't all muscle though. His left eye is probably missing, as an eye patch on that side is a permanent feature. His unremarkable grey uniform has even less remarkable patches on it, barely visible in a slightly darker grey, showing that he's only at an E1 grade.
Heuvelman IA2XSM, and Pvt Micheal Harris's Tanker's Vest With Plates
Captain Jaynes calls the whole company in at the double. Everyone files in quickly, though the last is First Lieutenant Magnum is the last to arrive. "What's this about?" he mutters. "I was filling out the report of delinquent reports report, and I was almost done!" He settles into a seat though, as Captain Jaynes waits for everyone to settle in.
SFC Davis stomps into the room amidst his fellows, jaw working furiously to chew down a bit of food. Even in the base he wears his heavy clamshell buckled about his bulky torso, and his helmet is tucked under his right arm. Seating himself on a small metal chair, he looks absolutely ridiculous. Like a monkey on a unicycl.
Pvt Micheal Harris responds in regular time. He's not an exceptional soldier. He's not a troublemaker either...so he just shows up with probably most of the others, settling into a seat quietly with his platoon and keeping his mouth shut because, you know, business to do. Etc.
Captain Jaynes begins as the last people (Magnum, for example) are getting seated. "Okay, here's the situation: There was a dustup out by where 12 Company is holding the Oscars in Kodar city. Some casualties need to be evacuated back here, but they can't spare drivers or people right now, so we're going to ride out and pick up their wounded." He looks around the room, sighs, and says, "So it'll go like this. Three teams of 3, and you'll pick up 2 men each in the ambulances. So we're bringing back 6 casualties from a pretty hot area. We -should- be good going in, because it's mostly been pacified by now, but stay alert." He names off a Sergeant and 2 others. "You're team one, go in, get the first two, and get back." He names off 3 others. "You're crew 2. Leave 5 minutes after the first group. I'm spreading you out in case they try to hit the ambulances." Which are decidedly light on weapons. He glowers. "Third team," he says wearily, "Magnum, take Harris and Davis, five minutes after Team 2. Go in, grab the casualties, and bring 'em back here."
"The rest of you," he adds, "are mounting up in what blowers we can get running, and you're to make sure there's no Oscars behind 12 Company's lines going to interfere with this evacuation. Any questions?"
SFC Davis remains silent at the call for questions, his squinty blue eyes sweeping the room. Magnum is easy enough to find.. He couldn't be more out of place here if he tried. But the other guy? Who the fuck is...Ah, there he is. The fat guy. Davis scowls a bit as his gaze locks on Private Harris. This is going to be one hell of a trip.
Pvt Micheal Harris returns the gaze briefly. Now, he isn't all THAT intimidated. Some sergeants are angrier than others but, you know, can't run around getting your feelings hurt all the time. He's not a tough guy aside from as tough as one needs to be to go into combat, of course, so he obviously doesn't have a vindictive look on his face. He offers a salute and then glances over to Ben, probably looking to follow his CO. Yeah, Ben's a pile of mush but...guy saved his life, so...there's loyalty there ANYWAY.
1LT Ben Magnum looks nervously at Harris, then at Davis, then ahems to the Captain. "What should we do if we .... er... encounter resistance?" he asks. Jaynes scowls, "You're not gonna get out and ask them to tea, I hope." Magnum looks pained at that, and nods slowly as Jaynes explains, "Call on the Company band." That's the radio channel the company coordinates things on. "And whoever's in the area will get there as quicky as they can. Try not to get killed before they arrive, it's a big area they have to patrol." He looks around for any more questions, but Ben's not going to ask about dessert at the mess. This is going to interrupt supper, but if we've got ten minutes, he can pack a snack. The captain says, "All right. Get out there and man your blowers. Get our men back here. Dismissed!"
Rising to his feet, Davis snorts softly as he looks away from the Private, his gaze once more falling on LT Magnum. As he stares at the man, his expression takes on the carefully neutral mask that sergeants have crafted over the centuries to let their CO know that they're listening. Even if they're an idiot, or a coward, they're listening.
"Sir." Davis grunts, already beginning to walk toward the exit, "Best come along now. We got men waitin' on us."
Pvt Micheal Harris isn't going to move if Ben doesn't initiate it. Oh, he'd follow Davis's orders of course, if there weren't any conflicts, but....no direct orders there so he's just kind of in 'order stasis'. It's about time to pack up and get moving, though, so...he still looks to Ben for the go ahead, of course, giving him a short smile and a pat on the shoulder as if to...encourage him to get moving, but he's going to wait on em. If Ben starts moving along though, assume that Mike follows him dutifly.
1LT Ben Magnum says, "I'll be right with you! If you'll get the ambulance started up, I'll be along in just a moment!" He checks a PDA, and says, "Ambulance 08 is ours, it should be warmed up and ready to go." The ambulances would be modified combat cars, fully enclosed where the combat cars are like a giant pickup truck with a rack over the bed. Harris is pretty familiar with them, having crewed one on more than one occasion as a medic. Davis has been medevac'ed a few times, but this'll be his first time crewing one.
SFC Davis makes his way down the narrow halls to the garage level, then along the rows to vehicle 8. Hauling open the back doors, he steps up inside, then casually turns his helmet over and dumps a colorful plastic package into his hand. That done, he plops his helmet on his head, sits down on a hard metal bench inside, and rolls back the plastic packaging of his already opened snack. Contemplatively, he takes another large bite.
'Private Peetie's Sweet Planton and Peanut Butter Sandwich!' proclaims the royal blue bubble art lettering on the front of the bright yellow package. Beneath that stands an odd hot-pocket shaped cartoon food item in a old WWII shell helmet, a green bandolier of banana looking plantons strapped across its chest.
Pvt Micheal Harris is in that 'bosses are talking' kind of mode as he watches Ben and Davis. As Davis heads off he glances back at Ben and quirks an eyebrow. He's not making a great first impression. Oh well, it's Ben. He can't mediate this one for him. Rank's too low, ya see. He sighs slightly, rubbing his forehead but doesn't make a move. Ben hadn't ordered him ahead but...this IS Ben. "Excuse me, sir? Would you like me to continue attending you or do you want me to join the sergeant?"
Sometimes you have to spell things out for em JUUUUST a little.
1LT Ben Magnum says to Harris, "Go on to the ambulance, and make sure everything's set." He arrives at the ambulances only a couple minutes later. Getting it up and on isn't a problem - the unit had been prepped correctly - and so all that remains is for Magnum to hop in to the commander's seat and flip on his console. Davis is stuck with the driver's duties and Magnum's already tuning in the comm suite so he can hear any divisional radio chatter. Harris, as the only medic in the group, is going to be stuck in the back. Taking care of the patients.
The way the ambulances are set up is like this: Just like the M9 combat cars, they're at least twice the size of a giant pickup truck. There's more than room enough for driver, commander, and an electronics guy to sit in the front. Though no electronics guy has been assigned for this mission. The back, which is enclosed and connected to the cab, has room for two stretchers, one along either side, and with room for the medtech to move around and help both patients if needed. Medical supplies are in overhead bins. This vehicle is about as well armored as the M9, though there's no side-mounted powerguns. Just the front gun, which Ben would have to use, if he could bring himself to do it.
By the time his fellow mercenaries have arrived, Davis is cramming the last bite of the snack sandwich into his mouth and crumpling the plastic wrapper. Dropping it into a spare pocket of his fatigues, he stands and lumbers up through the back of the truck and takes the access hatch out of the medical bay and into the pilot's compartment. There he drops into his seat, bulky clamshell making it nearly impossible for him to buckle himself in. But, soon enough he has managed it.
One final lick of his teeth to clear them of peanut butter, and SFC Davis throttles the heavy machine up, launching them out of the garage and onto the streets at a quickly accelerating rate.
M9A3 Combat Car #624 heads into the ruins of downtown Belden. M9A3 Combat Car #624 heads towards the outskirts. M9A3 Combat Car #624 heads into the combat zone.
The contested area on Kodar covers a broad swath of land hundreds of miles wide, including hills and mountainous areas, swamps and river valleys, small cities, and suburban areas. Most of these have been evacuated, but there are holdouts, and looters, here and there, clinging to life as they knew it or else risking their lives to life in the abandoned homes, despite the artillery fire in the distance and the occasional tank platoon or scout patrol. The planetary capitol, Kodar City, sits at the eastern edge of the contested area, occupied by pirates from outside the subsector. Belden, a major manufacturing center on the western edge of the contested area, is occupied by the Durasteel Tigers mercenary company.
Within the contested area are various forward posts, occupied towns, fortified positions, and so on, the position and disposition of which vary daily.
[Exits : [Be] Belden, and [KC] Kodar City ] [Things : M9A3 Combat Car #624(#624X) ]
Pvt Micheal Harris is hauled along as they haul their collective asses....you know, along. ... He's all business as he checks equipment stocks and location, checks the mounting of the beds and so on. Idle chatter doesn't seem to be on his mind. You see, people are hurt...he didn't focus on being a medic because he DIDN'T care when people get hurt, that's for sure. This is going to be gruesome and if he doesn't prepare mentally for that, people may die. His eyes narrow slightly but he seems to be keeping his cool...because he must.
1LT Ben Magnum has saved his snack for the ride out, which is kind of long and boring. About 200km, or 125 miles to the pickup point, at about 75 mph is about an hour and 40 minutes. So he's eating something crunchy and spilling crumbs down the front of his clamshell as we ride along. There's road for most of it, all but the very end, where you've got to find 12 Company without finding the Oscars. Over the radio, you hear the first ambulance make contact, check in, and depart with their cargo.
Then about five minutes later, the second ambulance checks in via radio.
1LT Ben Magnum checks INT(0) + NAVIGATION(0): 2d6 + 0 + 0 = 7 SFC Davis checks INT(0) + NAVIGATION(-3): 2d6 + 0 + -3 = 3
Following a road at 70 MPH isn't all that difficult a job. Sure Davis has a bad habit of not slowing to turn, and does he really have to keep the accelerator cranked to the max for the ENTIRE trip? But, at least the roar or the turbines drowns out the obnoxious crunching from the next seat over. It is only once the road ends in a series of craters that SF Davis's style of driving begins to get interesting. Hitting the first crater at max speed, the hovering vehicle flies off of the sloped edge and soars through the air, crashing down on its air cushion with a jolt that flings him hard against his straps. But, rather than slowing down, a coarse chuckle escapes him as they hurtle up the next incline and once more shoot through the air, using the other edge of the crater as a ramp.
"Where we goin', sir?!" Davis roars over the whine of the fans, ploughing straight through a dense cluster of bushes at a steady 70 MPH.
Pvt Micheal Harris hangs on for dear life as they fly through the terrain. Oh, good. This sergeant was a professional stunt driver in a past life. Well, we need to get there and we need to get there in a hurry so, can't complain there. He doesn't complain at all, of course. Now's not the time. He just hangs on as best he can, strapping himself back in as soon as possible and riding out the trip. Like a good private, he doesn't really have anything to add...although, he kind of wishes he had remembered a snack. Pardon his being out of shape n' all but...he really does work BEHIND the front lines mostly.
1LT Ben Magnum gacks as Davis takes the hard terrain at full speed. He was good with doing 70 on the roads, cause it'd get us there faster. Offroad, not so much. "Er, Sergeant," he says hesitantly. "We possibly don't need to go at full speed through the brush and backcountry." He's spilled the last of his snack, and brushes it onto the floor for someone else to deal with later as he checks his PDA, and says, "However, we're only a minute or so out, according to this. Just through the gap in those trees, I think...."
It seems Ben, with the assistance of satellite visuals, has gotten you to the right place. It's only when you're right up to 12 Company's position that you can see them: they're dug into rolling terrain, and it's hard to see the scattered vehicles. Tanks with fresh battle damage, and a couple smoking combat cars are visible here and there as evidence of their recent fighting. When you pull up, a couple guys hop out of foxholes and haul open the back doors. They'll pass up stretchers, letting Mike take the other end and bring both of them into the rear of the ambulance. Magnum's getting jumpy, and as soon as the armored rear doors bang closed, he urges Davis, "OK, let's get back to HQ!"
Having blasted between the trees and slalomed into something approximating a halt, Davis sits buckled into his seat, hand working the throttle lever so that the turbines rev, spinning loudly in neutral. Electric blue eyes focused straight ahead, he waits until the vehicle shutters with the thumb of a closing door and the all clear sounds through his helmet speakers. Then, he pops the clutch and drops the vehicle back into gear. Loose bits of debris are flung in all directions as the fan catches and the hovercraft is catapulted back into the air, swerving in a wide circle before screaming back through the bushes toward the departed road. Slow down?
Is that an order? No. Well then.
Pvt Micheal Harris checks INT(1) + MEDIC(1): 2d6 + 1 + 1 = 11
1LT Ben Magnum (OOC) says, "Both patients are stable but unconscious now. Sedated, likely. One's got a chest wound, the other looks like he's lost a leg."
Pvt Micheal Harris has no trouble pulling the stretchers up into the back. He waves the responders on as soon as he can and, surprisingly fast in fact, locks them down to the beds to make sure the sergeants INSANE DRIVING doesn't get them killed. c.c; If their vitals are already stable, though, there isn't much for him to do. If he has to staunch the wounds, it should be fairly easy with some kind of a quick deploy sealing pack. I mean, hell, we have those NOW. Otherwise, he just secures them and monitors.
1LT Ben Magnum checks INT(0) + SENSORS(1): 2d6 + 0 + 1 = 7 1LT Ben Magnum rolled 6 extra dice for autofire. 1 3 6 2 6 3 1LT Ben Magnum rolled 6 extra dice for autofire. 5 5 4 4 1 5
You damage the M9's rear armor bringing it to 16 total damage. (The tribarrel fire isn't enough to penetrate the rear armor, but several hits are scored, weaking the armor against future attacks.)
1LT Ben Magnum says again a bit less timidly, "Um, Sergeant. I think it'd be best for our -passengers- if you took it a little easy here in the back country." You're about five minutes out from the pickup when there's a sudden slamming of powergun bolts into the back of the ambulance's armor as a pair of jeeps crest a rise and open up with tribarrels. Magnum squeals in terror like a little girl.
SFC Davis (OOC) exclaims, "alright. I need to take evasive action!"
SFC Davis checks DEX(1) + DRIVE-HOVER (OTHER)(0): 2d6 + 1 + 0 = 7
"Sir--" whatever else Davis might have planned to say is cut off by the shuttering boom of impacts to their vehicle. His vehicle. Some shit heads are shooting his vehicle! There's certainly no slowing down now. Jerking the controls hard left, then right, SFC Davis attempts to zig and zag them out of the line of fire.This has the unfortunate effect of rebounding them off of two trees, hopping them over a rock, and nearly tipping the hover vehicle over as it zooms along through the tall grass.
Pvt Micheal Harris rolled 6 extra dice for autofire. 3 4 1 6 5 5
1LT Ben Magnum (OOC) says, "Aaaand, 1 hit. Just barely. The 6 and the 5 together with your +1 make 12, which is 8 with -4 for range."
Pvt Micheal Harris rolled 3d6+3 Result: 16
Pvt Micheal Harris grits his teeth as they pitch and roll. He just can't take it anymore. He screams back (Either communicator or physically, depending on what's appropriate) "SERGEANT, COULD YOU PLEASE FUCKING SLOW DOWN A LITTLE BEFORE YOU KILL MY PATIENTS BACK HERE!?" Yeah, he may actually end up running laps until he dies on his feet for that one, but you know what? He's more concerned with his patients then Davis's precious feelings. He jams his PDW out the firing port and does indeed go full auto at the assholes daring to shoot at his wounded.
Harris's lucky SMG spray and pray actually knocks one of the jeep gunners back off his jeep. Magnum whimpers, "Sergeant, go back and help Harris shoot back, please, I can drive this." In fact, it was the first vehicle he got checked out on. Not that it's pertinent just now, but he'll reach out to take the wheel, to let Davis slide out and squirm into the back.
1LT Ben Magnum rolled 6 extra dice for autofire. 4 2 2 6 4 2
You damage the M9's rear armor bringing it to 24 total damage.
SFC Davis rolled 4 extra dice for autofire. 1 6 6 3
1LT Ben Magnum (OOC) says, "You get a max of +1 with autofire, but that's enough. 1,6 +1=8. and 6, 3+1=10, so roll 4d6+4 and 4d6+6"
SFC Davis rolled 4d6+4 Result: 18 SFC Davis rolled 4d6+6 Result: 27
"Sir." Davis grunts, his expression alight with fury behind the shield of his helmet. Hitting the quick release on his harness, he squeezes out of his seat and pulls his bulk through the access hatch into the back of the ambulance. He has work to do. Hauling himself to his feet, Davis reaches up and detaches his rifle from the ceiling, lumbering forward to brace against the hatch beside Private Harris at the rear of the vehicle. Shoving his rifle through, he takes a moment to aim, squints one eye, and begins lobbing streaks of ionized copper down range at one of the jeeps, his energy beams stitching up the armor and across the exposed helmet of the gunner, which explodes, then melts under the concentrated fire.
Pvt Micheal Harris glances over at the sergeant, back at the jeeps...shit. Even auto-firing he's a better shot. True it's a rifle but....still. He stows his PDW away and without another word, squeezes past Davis to check on his patients. Finding that they're most stable, he tries to offering a comforting smile if anyone's awake and maybe just a few words of encouragement and....maybe some pain meds if they're stable enough. Etc. Davis and Ben seem to have the rest under control.
1LT Ben Magnum checks DEX(0) + DRIVE-HOVER (OTHER)(1): 2d6 + 0 + 1 = 11
1LT Ben Magnum, meanwhile, has brought the M9 into a much stabler path, letting you guys shoot smoothly, and as Davis demonostrates, a smooth ride equals messily dead Oscars. The jeeps indeed break off, having both lost their gunners, and Magnum's not stopping for anything, it seems. "Stay back there, please, Sergeant," he says. "In case more show up." Which may be a little justified, since you guys now are the rearguard. But mostly it's for the sake of his kidneys, which he wants to keep, thank you very much.
"Roger." Davis grunts into his helm mic, withdrawing his rifle through the firing port and manually triggering a flood of coolant across the barrels. Holding the weapon braced in his right arm, he reaches up with his left to anchor himself securely in front of the back doors. Not seeing any further enemies behind him, he takes a moment to glance over at the legless man secured to a stretched.
"Walk it off, boy." Davis growls at him. He has to be joking though, right? That's a joke...
Pvt Micheal Harris would groan at the comment, but, whatever keeps everyone calm under pressure. As long as he doesn't start singing. He's going auto fire the back completely if anyone starts singing. After making sure his patients are indeed stable, he addresses Ben. "Please keep us steady, sir. The patients are stable but they can't take any more jarring."
"Steady as she goes, Private," Ben replies cheerily. Luckily, the man with the leg missing is out cold, and doesn't catch Davis's wit. Magnum gets past the backcountry at a much more sedate speed than Davis took it at, though when he's on the road, he'll open it up. He wants to be home as soon as possible also! Though this point is a lot farther from the front. And checking your PDAs, it looks like your tanks have just swept this area.
1LT Ben Magnum actually gets us home in one piece, and his driving is less insane than Davis's. He slows for turns and suchlike, and when you're close to the homebase compound, he pulls in at a decent clip that doesn't threaten to hurl anyone out the door. Clearly, this would be completely inadequate for special forces, but apparently it's good enough for Lucky 13 Company. There's a short after action debrief, just a couple questions (how many Oscars, how many killed/injured, how many vehicles), as medtechs haul the patients out to the medical building. Or, rather, the garage that is being used as a medical building.
Leaving the mission debrief in the capable hands of LT Magnum (What else are officers for?), SFC Davis steps down onto the cement and idly digs about in the buckles of his clamshell. After a moment, he slips free a thin, 12 inch long bit of plastic rapped food in a brown and grey package. On the front is a stretched out man marked out in shadowy black, wearing a billed trucker's cap and holding a pistol. Alongside him are the words, 'Snap Into a Slim Bob! Cajun Spice Meat Stick!'
Tearing open his Slim Bob, Davis chomps down on the strong smelling, greyish meat within and begins to chew as he meanders off toward the exit door.
Pvt Micheal Harris helps unload patients, deals with paperwork, etc. He has his own boring, operational duties to deal with although he'll look to Ben for any further direction, of course. If there isn't any, he'll....well, get back to daily operations he supposes. Or go jerk off if he has some off time. Whichever.
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