Squared away

This is by no means mandatory. If you feel like a little role play, please join in and have at it. If you do not, feel free to read on.






Corporal Andrew ‘Bam’ Nichols hailed from Prime United Kingdom. His British accent was thick and his personality was jovial. Standing five foot nine, he saw eye to eye with the new Sergeant while dressed in her flight boots. He watched her with sky blue eyes and his hands hanging on the door connection into their quarters which were tiny compared to gargantuan size of the OR. A little less than a thousand square feet to accommodate a bunk style bed compartment, water closet (closet being literal), and two foot lockers lined opposite of the beds. It lacked color, warmth, but provided the very basic of needs.

‘Sergeant?’

‘Yes, Nichols?’ She answered without looking up at him, but busied herself unpacking her uniform from her single bag. As far as he could see, she had packed no other personal items.

‘It’s ‘Bam’, Sergeant.’ That stopped her. The Sergeant looked up at him with round brown eyes and gave him a curious look. ‘It’s slang. Uh…’A foolish and objectionable person. An abbreviated form of 'bampot'. He smiled, his cockney accent making his speech almost incoherent. ‘Bam.’

Straightening from her packing, she raised her eyebrows at him. ‘What is it, Corporal?’

‘Right.’ Clearing his throat, he lowered his hands and stepped into their quarters. They had been paired for the duration of their duty, which really was only four more years for Bam. It would be the same routine, day in – day out, for them. Guard duty.

‘We’re to report to Captain Billings for Orientation.…’ Bam’s sentence trailed off as the Sergeant nodded and began to undress. Unzipping her travel flight suit, she pulled out her arms and began to slip the suit down over her hips.

There was absolutely no pretense of modesty. This said two things to him: Sergeant Conrad was a soldier, pure and to the core; no fraternization, no attachments or emotion. It also said that she did not view him as a perspective mate, much to his dismay. Her brown hair was just long enough to tie in a low ponytail which she did while standing in her underwear. Pulling her flight suit from her foot locker, she began to dress quickly. Turning her back to him to grab her gloves, Bam’s forehead crinkled in confusion at what he saw. The Sergeant stepped into the suit and quickly pulled it on.

Bam raised his eyebrows and slowly said, ‘Flight suits aren’t necessary, Sergeant.’

Without looking at him, she replied, ‘Is that policy on board the OR, Corporal?’

It wasn’t and Bam was surprised that she knew that already. Their battle issue flight suits were equipped with life sensors, pressurized armor, and re-breathers providing emergency life support and were required at all times. They were a whitish gray with blocks of colors running down the sides designating the wearer’s job class.

‘Well, no ma’am, but what are the odds of the OR blowing up?’

Turning, the Sergeant zipped her flight suit closed and flexed her fingers into the gloves. She shrugged at him and then tipped her head toward his gear.

Bam gulped and turned to his foot locker to retrieve his own suit.










(Feel free to write your introduction to the OR. Next up is Orientation.)