Maintenance Mode (Open to Britannian Military)

[Jojo Kaguya]

Dependable, that was the necessary interest, in which one could valuably say the morning air did well for her. She had effectively managed to wake up in the dismal apartment of the barracks. It was more lively living indeed; however, she could enjoy it that much more to her while her eyes would focus lightly in the mannerisms. With her eyes she would focus lightly on the manners and with which she would give her life for the military and its cause for her to grow so effectively. Jojo kept into effective state of mind that her own mentality was necessary to live thereof and with such she would head out of the barracks, into the hanger bay.

Maintenance had to be performed on her Sutherland and she trusted no one other than its creator and herself to maintain her knightmare frame. In this effective vantage point she would dress into her needed uniform of the military and then of course underneath this was her knightmare pilot suit. Effectively black in color as it was her own design while the military uniform that laid over it was in the traditional Britannian colors as her own state of mind would take into effect, her body waking its way into the hanger bay and began working on the knightmare frame, managing the effective wear of the device necessary.

[Vincent Miles]

Stifling a yawn as he walked, Vincent Miles ignored the disapproving and slightly-more-than-occasionally angry looks from the rank-and-file soldiers he passed. Sure, some of them out-ranked him. A fair few were probably even nobility of some stripe or another. For anyone, especially a Commoner like Vincent, to ignore them was, in most circumstances, beyond the pale. Unfortunately for their over-inflated sense of personal worth, the circumstances were hardly normal.

The pin on the collar of Vincent's brightly-colored Hawaiian-style shirt saw to that. The pin was a relatively simple thing: a single gold leaf sword piercing a trio of slanted, similarly gold leaf lightning bolts. It was a pin that said Fuck with me and you die. It was the insignia of Britannian Special Forces. Only the bravest of the terminally stupid tried telling Vincent what to do when he wore it.

Sure, he was technically not allowed to have it attached to his civilian shirt, but then again, he was supposed to have his hair cut "in a professional and non-faddish fashion" and have his sunglasses off inside - none of which was the case. That was just one of the perks of being an Operator: you could pretty much do whatever you wanted.

Vincent strolled into the maintenance bay as though he owned the place, cup of coffee in hand. He spared a glance around the bay, taking in all the early-risers as they set about their duties. It wasn't long before his eyes settled on the door to the Armory. The closed door to the Armory. Vince's shoulders sagged a bit.

"You've got to be kidding me," he grumbled, already beyond annoyed. He had been told, in no uncertain terms, that the Armory would be open by 0930. A glance at his watch revealed that it was already 1000. He looked around the bay again. A few privates stood in a clump in a corner, running their mouths. They wouldn't know anything. A harried-looking maintenance sergeant with a clipboard glared at an air conditioning vent. Vincent doubted if he would be any use either.

As he scanned the room, his vision fell upon a female - one of the few in the bay. He watched her just long enough to pick up the flash of her rank insignia: a Lieutenant. Officers existed in two states of being: they either knew a little more than they let on, or considerably less. With a shrug, Vincent made his way over to her. "Excuse me, ma'am? You wouldn't happen to know when the Armory's going to open up, would you?" he asked, hooking a thumb at the locked door. "Morons told me they'd be open by now, but, well... yeah." His tone made it clear that he was nonplussed.

[Jojo Kaguya]

Fixing the hydraulic system was tough enough being that the knightmare frame seemed as if it were dropped here instead of transported here. In her mind, she kept cursing about how terrible the transport and taxi pilots were around here. She would like to see a lashing or two but in effect, she was much too kindhearted to actually say something about it. To her she would pop her neck and continue her work on all the maintenance needed while using a good handy wrench to straighten some bolts. Tightening the torque of the legs system and the very malfunction, she had been having for a while in the land roller system. This entire device was in full repair while she was working. Where she was previously it was alright just to take your jacket off and work with a tank top and your jacket covering your lower midriff but she was not so sure here.

Where in all she could do was stay at it and continues the work necessary to manage the hydraulics. Her eyes beset upon a small hand console, rather called a maintenance pad, as she would then hear someone, she would look over and see a civilian, or wait… Her eyes would look upon the Special Forces badge and she would give a slight solute in regard. Even as a noble and a lieutenant, she knew ranks when she saw them. “Good morning sir.” Of course, it would not take long for her to process what was being said. She would do a quick data check and then look at the door of the armory. She would go over to the door and open it, it was not locked and all it was appearing to be was a closed door. “Sir all you have to do is open up the door.” She would giggle lightly in the event and ask, “Is there anything else you need from me sir?”

[Vincent Miles]

Now there was a word that Vincent hated to be called. Sir. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Sure, the young LT was just following regulations, but still... did he really look like an officer? Vince heaved a calming sigh and followed the woman to the Armory door. The technique worked until she called him sir again.

What was left of his patience was eroded to dust by her opening the door. It was all Vince could do to not fly into a rage at the idiocy of the Armory workers. How hard was it, really, to leave the damn door open? And then, counter to everything that had happened, Vince smiled. It was not a pleasant thing, and he had no doubt that the Lieutenant could see the semi-sadistic glint in his eye. He finished off the coffee with a gulp.

"Yeah," he said, still grinning like a maniac. "There is something you can do for me, ma'am." He looked away from the Armorer who had made the mistake of poking his head around the doorjamb. "Quit calling me sir. I'm a Sergeant First Class - with all due respect, I actually work for a living." It was borderline insubordination to say that to a commissioned officer.

Scratch that, it was insubordination. At that moment, Vince couldn't bring himself to care too much. "Might want to stand guard on this door for me for a second, though." He let a hint of his old Drill Sergeant creep into his voice. "I need to have some words with these fine young soldiers." The Armorer, upon hearing Vincent's tone, retreated from the doorway.

Not that it would help him.

With a roll of his shoulders, Vince strode into the Armory and closed the door behind him. As soon as it had slammed shut, he let loose with a torrent of verbal abuse that, while creative and educating, wouldn't be very well received by any audience. By the time he left a few minutes later with a heavy duffel bag over his shoulder, he was sure that the Armorer would never again have the door shut so long as the Armory was technically open.

"Holy shit, that felt good," he said to no one in particular as he set the bag down at a nearby table. It wasn't long before the contents were spread out in organized groups. He picked up the rifle - a standard issue Infantry carbine - first and cleared it before running through a functions check. The pistol, customized to suit his needs, was next, followed by his combat uniform's jumpsuit and attachments.

The last item on the list was his orange-striped helmet. He activated the Heads-Up Display and set it back down to run through its boot up cycle. He looked back to the Lieutenant. "So. A Devicer, huh?" he asked, just making conversation. "How's that treating you?"

[Jojo Kaguya]

To Jojo she would blink lightly with a calm diversity to her mind. She always referred to people as ma’am or sir in her own way of learning things. She would blink again while she noted his venting and her own knowledge as an officer was normally one to where she would ask him to be stripped of title and rank. Although, her normal persona which was far from that of an officer’s norm would merely let her giggle in the event as she looked at this boy who had so effectively revealed much more about himself than probably intending to do.

While the door was open, she saw a sign on it that had really kept her from actually hearing the possibility of her standing guard while she looked at the sign with another giggle coming from her. The new cadets having stopped to listen to all the ranting that came from the now shut door of the armory. Jojo would watch him enter and leave from the armory while she noted that duffle bag. She would go to her knightmare and opening up a compartment in the cockpit pulled out a brief case. Bringing it back down and then moving over to looking at the boy, she would shake her head when looking at that standard issue carbine.

Bringing her case out and opening it up she would now smile lightly while pulling such efficiencies out and about while she would begin piecing together her rifle. “Well my Sutherland is not the best of them however get it far enough away I can pretty well snipe just about everything out there. And if the unit itself is bad,” She would finish up her rifle as she attached a scope, “I have my own method to fly fish some individuals.” The bolt-action sniper rifle aided with Jojo while she would smile.

The gun was not like her sword but at the least, she knew that such a gun was very trustworthy of her. “I do suggest not going with standard issue rifles, customize your bullet if anything, though I prefer people getting a custom grip and there in possibly getting a stabilize factor to the gun’s recoil as well.” It was her suggestion that she gave to everyone seeing as how her own gun had just about as many upgrades and tweaks to make it seem impossible to fire.

[Vincent Miles]

Intrigued by the woman's choice of weapons, Vincent watched and listened intently. "What is that, the 1017? Been a minute since I saw one." The last time he'd been near one, he had been spotting for Penrose. Duncan always had appreciated more eccentric weaponry - and weapons that used cased ammunition were just about as eccentric as you could get.

Okay, he thought as he fiddled with his helmet's straps; the damn things always felt loose. So she's bug-house nuts. Great. He'd dealt with worse.

And then she started in on Julie.

It was all crap that he had heard before - you need a better weapon! standard issue is garbage! get all these attachments! Vincent waited until she was finished giving her advice. "Ma'am, while I appreciate your concern, Julie here," he said, giving the rifle an affectionate pat, "has been with me way too long for me to even consider a different rifle." The helmet chirped, letting him know that the boot up was complete. He plucked it off the table and fastened it on his head.

He found the rifle on the table and began calibrating the smart-link, talking all the while. "Then there's this process to consider. You ever tried syncing something made by Browning or Colt to the targeting system in one of these buckets? It's a royal pain in the ass." He started to repeat the calibration with his pistol. "Plus, for sheer stopping power and armor penetration at the non-specialized Fireteam level, the M'08 is just about the best you can do at close- to medium-range."

He toyed around with the HUD some more, pulling up tactical maps, communication security information, and the like with a series of blinks. "And, all other things being equal, if I stick with Julie, our great and glorious Empire will keep footing the bill for my rounds." Great and glorious was said with only the slightest hint of sarcasm - there would have been more, but Vincent didn't feel like having charges of sedition thrown his way.

"So yeah. Short answer: I'm good, thanks very much."