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Old 07-11-2014, 04:47 PM
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CosmicCowboy CosmicCowboy is offline
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Default Cooper Williams, Marine Recruit

Name: Cooper Williams
Age: 22
Birthdate: March 22, 2018.
Kentucky, USA
High School and some College
Hobbies: Football in High School (naturally), hunting, off-roading, various redneck stuff

Improvement Points

Cyber Enhancements:
Basic Processor (Roll 1d6 for empathy cost)
Interface Plugs (Base of Skull) (Roll 1d6 for empathy cost)

Possessions:
Standard Colonial Marine Recruit Fatigues

STATS:
INT - 8
REF - 7
TECH - 5
COOL - 5
ATTR - 5
LUCK - 5
MA - 5
BODY - 5
EMP - 5

Professional Skills (40 pts)
Combat Awareness - 4
Awareness/Notice - 4
Handgun - 4
Brawling - 4
Melee - 4
Weapons Tech - 4
Rifle - 5
Athletics - 4
Submachinegun - 4
Stealth - 4


Pickup Skills (15 pts)
Wilderness Survival - 4
Basic Tech - 2
Endurance - 4
Education - 3
Library Research -2
Tactics (Military Grunt, Military Officer – 2
Resist Torture +1



We stood and listened to the hounds baying, my father taking in the news I had just given him. He finally sighed and spat to the side.

“Shit, Cooper, the Colonial Marines? Why the hell would you do a thing like that?”

I shrugged. “What other choice do I have? College is done. That road doesn’t have a happy ending.”

It was true. Four years of working to pay my through part time classes and I was out of money. And with no idea of what I would do, anyway. General studies was no more a future than the home town life I wanted away from.

“Hell, stay here,” my dad said. “There’s good jobs. Marry that gal…what’s her name? Shelly?”

“Sarah. And then what? Work at the steel mill? I want something better than that.” I turned and started walking in the direction of the dogs. Dad fell in beside me.

“Why not the mill? It’s been good to our family for two generations. Why not a third?”

“I thought you wanted something better for me?”

Dad turned his head away. “I did. But things change. You get older and realize that sometimes things don’t work out the way you thought.”

I paused and knelt. We tailing the dogs now. Bobcat. Well, the fur would be worth something. Standing, we started walking again.

“Maybe I have got older. I’m not ever gonna be rich, but I go and do my tour, I can come back with some decent money. I’d have enough to start my own business. You know people will pay you to take them on a hunt? I’ll have enough to get married. Sarah says she’ll wait.”

Dad just sighed and spat again. “Yeah. Like I said, sometimes things don’t work the way you want.”

Last edited by CosmicCowboy; 08-25-2014 at 02:48 PM.
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Old 07-14-2014, 10:44 AM
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CosmicCowboy CosmicCowboy is offline
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“WILLIAMS! JUST WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Cooper raised his cheek slightly from the rifle. The yelling he had gotten used to. It wasn’t so much different from Coach; just the punishments were much harsher. Thus far he had managed to avoid any unpleasant duties and extra PT. Usually it was fairly easy to tell what the Sergeant was screaming about. This time, Cooper had no idea.

“Sir! I’m not sure I understand the question, Sir!”

The Sergeant leaned in closer for maximum effect.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER? YOU AREN’T SHOOTING WORTH SHIT, RECRUIT! NOW WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Looking towards his target, Cooper tried quickly to figure out the issue with his shooting. A quick glance toward the other targets told him that his grouping was among the best, if not the best.

“Sir! I’m fairly sure that’s a qualifying grou…”

“ARE YOU TELLING ME I CAN’T SEE CORRECTLY? I WILL DECIDE WHAT IS QUALIFYING AND WHAT IS NOT, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

“Sir, yes Sir!”

The Sergeant grabbed a paper target and held it out to Cooper.

“Here is what you will do, recruit. You will replace that target and then you will come back and try again. Any grouping less than Marksman qualification will be unacceptable. Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Cooper set his rifle down and took the target. He looked to where other recruits were still shooting and guessed he had another 5 minutes before cease fire was called and lanes were clear.

“WILLIAMS! WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR?”

“Sir! Cease fire hasn’t bee…”

“NOW, WILLIAMS! GET YOUR REDNECK ASS MOVING!”

Cooper felt the blood drain from his face. He dropped to the ground and began crawling towards his target.

"Sir, aye aye Sir!"

“AND I SUGGEST YOU KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN!”

Last edited by CosmicCowboy; 07-14-2014 at 12:32 PM.
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Old 07-15-2014, 10:05 AM
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The transport skimmed over the tree tops as Cooper looked out the open door. He and a few recruits had been ordered out of their bunks in the middle of the night and were now bound for parts unknown. The transport landed in a clearing and they hustled out and formed up. Sarge exited the plane, adjusted his hat, and approached the line. He appeared to be in a bad mood. Cooper knew by now that this meant the Sergeant was happy. A happy Sergeant never boded well for the recruits.

“MAGGOTS! DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE ARE?”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence in the line before Cooper spoke up.

“Sir! We are approximately 40 miles Northwest of base Sir!”

The Sergeant grimaced and stepped up to Cooper, shouting in his face.

“WRONG ANSWER, FUCKWIT! YOU ARE IN BUTT. FUCK. EGYPT!”

Sarge stepped back and addressed the group.

“You maggots have shown some promise in finding your way out of a wet paper bag, so I have a special surprise for you. Like Moses, you will make your exodus from Butt Fuck Egypt. The base is your Promised Land. You have four days to make your way to the base. That’s four days of no PT, no early muster, and no latrine detail! Aren’t I generous?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” the recruits chorused.

Cooper allowed himself a small smile. Ten mile days shouldn’t be too bad. Compared to what he had endured thus far, this was a cake walk.

“Oh, and Williams,” the Sergeant continued, “Since you are a damn genius you will be completing this task without your Imperial Marine issued equipment.”

The smile faltered. Marine issued equipment? They’d been roused in the middle of the night and had not time to gather any gear after getting dressed. Unless….

Sarge grinned. “Unless I’m mistaken you didn’t bring those nice fatigues and boots from home. Am I mistaken, Williams?”

“Sir, no sir.”
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Old 08-25-2014, 02:49 PM
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OK, spent 40 IP to bump Rifle to 5 and banked the other 30 points. Check my math, please.
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