<strong>Padraig O'Graugh</strong><br/><br/>Paddy sat and listened to the story. This was pure bullshit, he knew, but he couldn't fault it for drama. "Ye sure ye don't have a little Oirish in ye, mon?" He called out. "Ye surely ha' the gift o' th' gab".<br/><br/>Pat was not at all happy with this posting. Sure the comms stuff was the best anywhere and it was what he wanted to work with more than anything, but not at the expense of getting shot at. He had not intended to join the Empire's forces when he arrived on Earth, but even for someone with a degree in electronics and communications there just weren't that many openings available.<br/><br/>And so, here he was, on some God-awful transport ship, about to drop onto some God-awful world and fight some God-awful aliens and about the only decent thing in this, apart from the tech he got to work with, was the medic who was kinda cute.<br/><br/>But he had so far not managed to do much more than offer her a brief smile in passing.<br/><br/>A shout from behind him made him leap to his feet...<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>SFC Kerry Paige</strong><br/><br/>Paige had a strange feeling about this one. New squad, new officer, new fucking regiment. She had been quite happy in the 101, a regiment with a history longer than the Empire cared to admit. Her transfer to the 206th had been unexpected, and totally unwelcome. It wasn't her fault this time and to her credit, Pvt Stern had done her best to actually take some of the heat, payback for the time Paige had pulled Stern's arse out of the fire and been busted down a rank for her pains.  So Paige was more than a little pissed to find herself in what, to her, looked like a punishment detail.<br/><br/>She stomped down the corridor of the troop ship from the sergeants' mess, looking for her platoon, pausing to snap a salute to the Navy Ensign who hurried past on his own important mission.<br/><br/>She found the room and opened the door softly, just a crack, catching the end of some cock-and-bull story, and listening to the heckling after it. She pushed the door open and yelled out "TENHUT!"<br/><br/>She noted the ones that moved faster than others, the ones that moved slower, the ones that weren't quite sure what to do with whatever they were doing before she came in, the ones that stole furtive glances towards her.<br/><br/>"EYES FRONT! YOU USELESS MAGGOTS." She strode into the room, looking left and right. "JEEEEsus H. Christ! You call yourselves soldiers? Stand by yer beds." The platoon moved, scrambling to stand at the foot of their bunks. All except one, lounging on a lower bunk in the far end of the room. Recognition lit her face with an evil smile. But for now, she ignored the dark haired, olive skinned figure. At least they had given her one decent soldier.<br/><br/>She strode the length of the room picking up the slightest infraction on equipment or dress, even though the platoon were officially off duty. As far as she was concerned, they were on board a combat vessel, about to go into combat and anything could, and usually did, happen. She reached the end of the room and turned, still ignoring the slouched figure, who had by now attracted the subtle attention of the others.<br/><br/>"My name is First Sergeant Kerry Paige. You may call me Sarge. My job, ladies, is to keep you alive, while keeping myself alive. The job of the officers is to get you killed while accomplishing some mission. So, I am your friend. What am I?"<br/><br/><em>"Our friend, Sergeant".</em>The chorus came back.<br/><br/>"And don't you forget it". She grinned. "Right, as you were, carry on. All except you, private Stern. You are in deep shit! And the only way you are getting out of it is to give your sergeant a kiss!" Her voice lowered to a much more conversational level on the last sentence, as she bent to sit on the bunk beside her best friend and some-time fuck-buddy.