AWD #349: All Loaded Up
All Loaded Up
Summary: A few Marines collect some gifts for the corps.
Date: 05/06/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Dreyer Kapali Perry Randy 
Outside Crandall
The area surrounding Crandall on Picon.
Wed Dec 21 2005 (AWD #349)

I am missing the first part of the log from the Mess Hall, as it was before I arrived. If anyone has it, please add it in!

Kapali's expression has morphed from curiosity to a fierce sort of attentive silence while Perry outlines the particulars of the idea then transforms into a fierce grin. "Not only do i volunteer, but I do so with another hell yes, Staff," she voices brandishing the briefly empty spoon in a triumphant flare. "I'll pack extra empty rucks into the ones I'm carrying and we'll haul out as much as we can carry and then some!"

"I just don't have anything. I usually wear it when I'm getting rack since that's all they're fit for," Randy shrugs, very clear with herself on how it won't change the situation with the Staff Sergeant. Of course the Staff Sergeant knows bits and pieces of where Randy was when the war broke out. "How much clothing is 'a lot of 'your wardrobe'," Randy air quotes, trying to do some minor calculations in her head and stopping short after ballparking it. "I'm in. I'm not just in this fleet for myself you know, but if you want me wearing anything other than sweats or camo, I'm not exactly well practiced at showing people up." Indeed. "I wouldn't even know what would look good or what was in style." It takes awhile to get used to not living in backwater outposts all your life and Randy never really had much of a fashion role model. "I'm usually used to taking civ clothes o-" Randy stops herself. "Yeah. I'm in."

"I like where your head's at, Corporal. You secure that shite exactly where it is and make sure you do what you suggested." Perry aims a finger at Kapali for it, seemingly pleased as an official-bidness Staff Sergeant can be. That thermos of coffee still hasn't been touched. She then looks back to Randy. "Just the wardrobe I had on base where I lived permanently. I don't mean the wardrobe I had at my parents' estate. I can make it all fit into the bottom quarter to half of one bag. Including shoes and jewelry." Mother. Frakkin. Shoes. "Trust me, this will be good. We can't get clothes for everyone but we'll have enough to get a good start. We can always raid more. But if you're doing the work, you get to pick out first dibs, so make sure its flattering." Perry, Randy, and Kapali are sitting at a table in a very empty messhall. Randy's hair is down but they're all mostly in uniform. Perry's hair is pulled into a tight bun and she looks menacingly serious about something. Staff Sergeant Mode is Active.

For a while already, Dreyer has tended to fly a bit under the radar in regards to the uniform rules. Mostly by wearing CMC-issue gear, even if it's a tshirt and sweatpants. Right now, however, he's in his MP uniform. Mostly. The band has been tucked into a pocket and a few buttons are undone. The man is not on Official MP Duty. Always a good thing to make sure folks are aware of when entering the mess. Helps avoid the accusatory looks amongst tables. He does, however, have a book in hand and isn't entirely paying mind as he heads towards the service line. It's meal time. Meal time is Anton-time.

"Don't worry, Sarge, I'll help you take in or cut down anything that you need so that it'll fit your junior miss physique," Kapali suggests with a sidelong grin aimed at Randy. "I'm pretty good with needle and thread. Have to be. You know how few women work construction sites? One size does not fit all," she adds with a huff of a laugh before her eyes go just a little bit wide. Just a little. "Holy mother of all that is merciful, shoes." She says this in a quietly reverent tone of voice. "I would kill for some good shoes that aren't combat boots. Kill. Honestly and truly. I don't have a shoe fetish, I swear. That said, I have three pairs of shoes. THREE. The only thing I love more than setting a really good explosion to go boom is getting my hands on and then my feet into a well fit pair of shoes." She looks a little fierce still, leaning forward, "At least one of those rucks is going to be for shoes."

And all Dreyer will find are coldcuts and mid rations. Yep, he missed the meal, which explains why the whole mess is so empty except for the three conspiring women. "Ah," Randy nods to Perry as she fills in the gaps of her misunderstanding. "I can't say no to some clean clothes at this point. I think I'm starting to offend Dreyer." And speak of the devil. She lifts her hand to offer the MP a little wave. "You don't have to tell me that," Randy smirks at the one-size-fits-all comment. "I'd appreciate it Kapali." Where has all the little EOD's courage got off to? It surely isn't helping her now. She offers a meek grin at Kapali's runaway enthusiasm. "Wait, which three made it out of your entire wardrobe?"

Snap. Score one Kapali, Randy Zero. Dang. "If you'd said that to me I'd probably slap like you like a proper Lady. Then ask what you charge for your sewing services." Perry's serious expression cracks juuuust a little. Only barely. The mention of shoes has her nod slowwwly. "Yes. I'd kill for a nice set of heels and some tennies that aren't these combat shoes or boots. Dedicate a whole bag if you want, but you don't to keep them all. This is being done for the Company, Corporal. Other women have needs like yours." Leave it to an upper crust Virgan woman to understand that certain things are not optional. But with Randy finally getting her answer down she baps a fist to the table. "Outstanding. Like I said, we travel light. Sidearms in thigh holsters. We're staying on base but we'll be outside the security zone." Crandall is big. Really big. She leans back to look at Dreyer and waves him over. "Sergeant. Get your butt over here. We're making an emergency run on Picon. We've just received word that there are civvie clothes that are in dire need of rescue. I'm not waiting for command authority on this one. We're going in to get a few thigns for ourselves but smash and grab for the Company as a whole. Morale mission. You want in?"

There's a sort of droll look at the closed service lines. The joys of MP duty. Sometimes, your relief is late. Or the scheduled overlap was just far enough off that you miss out on a decent meal. Dreyer lowers the book finally and just stares across the board. With a sigh, he slumps over to the sandwiches and the like, picking through for something that'll satisfy… and then he grabs a second, to boot. Two sandwiches, a bag of chips, and ultimately a mug of coffee. He turns about, likely with the intention to just grab the seat nearest to the drink station, but spots the three women instead. There's an arch of brow at what Perry lays out and he tosses down book, sandwiches, chips, but thankfully not coffee. That gains a sip as he grabs a chair next to some unlucky soul. "Funny," he offers, gesturing with coffee towards Kapali before setting it down. "We were just discussing the need to start grabbing things the other day." He does refrain from mentioning that those plans had been for barter. Newp. Not bringing that up. Sandwich is unwrapped and there's a shrug. "Sure. Why not. Someone's got to look out for the guys, too."

"One pair of black heels with red soles, a pair of beach flip flops and a pair of rather ratty slippers with bunny ears," Kapali answers with another of those sidelong grins aimed at Randy. "Honestly the only other bits of civilian gear i have are a few ball caps and a hardhat." The fact that the hard hat bears the logo K&S (Kapali & Sons) the construction company that has been in her family for a few generations is just sentimental enough to excuse the room that it takes up in her footlocker. She turns the same somewhat fierce grin at Perry again, "Idle hands are a dangerous thing, Staff. Taking in hems or seams will keep me out of trouble. In theory. And prices will be up for negotiation once we get everything back and see what needs to be worked on," said with another tip of her head in a nod. "Spoils of war, Staff, we have to see that all the women have a fair shot." She then aims a nod over at Dreyer, "We were. And now we have a chance to pull it off without having to go beg permission to pull a raid to get some more socks!"

"She ordered your butt over here," Randy beams up at Dreyer before he sits down. "What are flip flops?" Seriously, she just had to ask. She can't help but stifle a laugh at Perry, straightening up. She's adept at hiding such things, but one can only do it so many times before it's patently obvious to everyone in the room that you can't keep your face straight. "Wait wait wait. Now I have to pay for this service that you so politely offered your superior?" Randy arches a brow at Kapali and then settles a frown at Perry. "Thanks," for ruining the suck-up-itude, or stealing it. "Hurray, socks," Randy reaches forward to crumple up the paper her sandwich was wrapped in. "I have a pair of tennis. What size are you?" She lifts her chin in Perry's direction and then leans out from the table to look at her shoes.

Perry grabs her camo cover from the table and slowly stands. "Oi. Get your shite. We're leaving right now. Draw sidearms from the armory and tell them that I told you to because we're heading to Picon for a classified mission. I want all of you assembled on the hangar deck in ten minutes. Uniforms are battle dress. Armor is optional but we'll be retreating at the first sign of trouble." The cap is slowly put down over her perfectly tightened hair and the bun. The brim once more neatly hides her eyes as she looks pissed instantly. Not someone to question. "Dreyer, eat on the Raptor. Let's roll." She takes up the metal theormos and takes a commanding step and walk towards the exit.

"I'm off-duty," Dreyer offers, easily, to Randy. He's hungry. Cut him a break. The first sandwich is quickly made work off; gone in a matter of bites. He's brushing the crumbs off his fingers and fixing the wee engineer with a long stare. "Socks are important. Old socks can mean blisters. Seriously, there's few pleasures better than a brand new pair of socks." Especially a year into a war. He picks up his coffee, downing a good bit. And then he's being told it's time to roll out, now. Those blue eyes go big and he glances to chips and sandwich. Siiiiigh. "Fine, fine."

He even grabs another bag of chips and another sandwich before taking off for the barracks at a quick pace. He's got to change and grab a couple things.

Stuffing the piece of fruit into one pocket, inhaling the last of the jello as she stands, Kapali downs first one then the second cup of coffee with the full intention of using the caffeine to help fuel herself on the mission. "Don't worry, I'll work on your stuff for free," she promises Randy with a grin. "Just setting the standard for everyone else NOT on this mission, though. Never do anything for free, it sets a bad precedent. Volunteering to help out a fellow EOD is different," she lightly elbows Randy, camaraderie evident in her every move and word. "Plus, I never did get around to asking you about something I wanted to suggest on Picon. I'll bring that up when we're back," she says as she hustles after Dreyer to change as well.

"Hermes why haven't you saved me yet. Dreyer, you don't think I don't know that? I've been stuck without socks," Randy rolls her eyes. Kapali's mention that her help is still on the table seems to brighten the Sergeant out of her crotchitiness though. She smirks and says, "You can ask me on the trip if we have time…or if you'd prefer to wait.." Randy shrugs and then nods swiftly to the Stafff Sergeant. "Yes sir." She snatches up the ball of paper and shoots for the can. "Swish!" She rises to her feet, offers a small smile to Perry, and then scampers off after the other two.

When they get to the hangar deck they find that Perry has already checked the time for an outbound Raptor to Crandall. She planned this. Minx. But the Raptor takes off without incident and the whole set of jumps to the colonies goes off just fine. Ocne they touchdown on Crandall, Perry is the first one off the Raptor. Wearing her sidearm like that and looking pissed as hell, she barks at a PFC to ask where their transportation is. He obviously has no idea because none was ever scheduled. But fear of pissing off a Staff NCO can do wonders. He shows up five minutes later with a comandeered nearly-new pick-up truck. There's a few bulletholes in it and it's been spraypainted green, but it will do the job perfectly. Perry hops into the driver's seat and pats the door after closing it. Time to go.

Eyeing the pickup with a moment of vehicular envy, "Hello Gorgeous", is said VERY QUIETLY to the pickup as Kapali climbs into the truck bed, using the ruks as improvised cushion against the truck bed and settling herself down into the truck bed, ready to hit the deck as need be once the Staff starts driving. Just getting to be in fresh air again has the marine fighting to remain on task, but she does tip her head back anyway to enjoy the sun on her face.

Ultimately, Dreyer ends up in fatigues with just a vest. Not full battle gear, no. He's even dug up a few extra bags and duffels… even if meant snatching some unknowing marine's while they're out on duty. Either they'll never notice or they'll forgive him later. True to Anton-form, he even napped on the trip out, but the jolt of landing was enough to wake him less he inspire the wrath of the SNCO. A quick check over sidearm and he's calling "Shotgun," even as he heads to the passenger door and yanks it open. Kapali's claiming the bed, but he waits to see if Randy wants to join her or clamber into the more narrow rear seat. She's probably the only one built for it. Once in the truck? He is totally pulling out one of the bags of chips. Raptor was for napping. Truck is for eating.

Randy's good at looking pissy. She practices it every time she wakes up and someone rubs her the wrong way. She has her sidearm and looks all official in a light vest at least, standing behind Perry with an annoyed look on her face. "Frakking every time," she lays it on, though she looks over at Dreyer as if to let him know that comment was for his 'shotgun.' When the truck pulls round, Randy starts for the front giving a thought to beating him there, but then she quickly reroutes, hopping up into the back with Kapali. She's got her camo cap on to keep the sun off her face, but it's not doing a particularly good job of it.

Perry puts the truck in gear and leaves the PFC in the dust. She's dropped her sets of collapsable duffels on the seat beside her and once everyone is onboard, she's off. They head towards the end of the flightline and a single gated entrance with a couple of bored Marines. "Everyone pretend we're here for something serious. Lemme see your Grr faces, ladies." You too, Dreyer. Julia reaches into her blouse and removes her photo ID in the case and holds it out as they roll up to the gate. "Staff Sergeant Julia Perry. We have orders from 3/8th Actual, Battlestar Orion, to search a classified target location on this base. Open the gate, Marine." The woman hesitates before pressing down on the ballast and opening it. "Thank you." They pull through the gate slowly before she hits the gas. They're clearly already beyond the secured zone judging by the abandoned vehicles and overgrown lawns. A year ago today this place would have been bustling. They pass by a 25mph Speed Limit sign. She's breezing past 50 and enjoying the weather, window down. "Should be there in about five minutes."

Kapali straightens up, shoulders hitting the glass that rattles subtly behind her as she puts on her Grr face, which translates to PISSED OFF KAPALI face. She stares down the handful of bored marines as they approach the gated entrance. Managing to convey a measure of Don't-make-me-hurt-you with my need-to-know is above YOUR need-to-know attitude at the same time, Kapali waits until they pull through the gate then relaxes subtly with another broad grin shared sidelong with Randy. "Look at that," she says over the sound of the wind, "real sky, real sun, fresh air."

The cab means eating in relative comfort. No chips flying everywhere. Dreyer stuffs his bags into the narrow space behind his claimed seat and gets settled in. There is a brief sweep of hand through hair before cap is fitted better into place. One of those sorts who wears the uniform well, but is always in a rush to be out of it. Around the barracks, he's rarely in official-issue. A small perk of having been posted to Piraeus over a year before the war began. He's got something of a wardrobe… but new socks are never remiss. And morale? Well. Dreyer snorts in something of amusement, but takes on a rather droll expression, looking out his window (after rolling it down). Not to much 'grr,' but more 'bored of dealing with this.' A decent MP can pull it off well and he certainly manages. Once they're out on the road, he draws in a deep breath and pulls a pair of sunglasses from a pocket, putting them on. He taps the arm likely, "Should collect a good lot of these. They won't take up much space and a lot of people don't have any."

Well that's easy, Randy already looks like a Staff Sergeant about to have a field day. Randy's been here before so she knows when to keep her game face on and when to let it slide, but it really hasn't slid since they got into the truck. She doesn't stare down the marines. She might know one of them and then where would they be? Once they pass the gate, the look on Randy's face melts. She musters a small smile for the slightly younger marine and then looks out over what once was a real base. "Yeah…"

"Enjoy it, Kapali. This is real Free Colonial Air. Not that fake Piraen garbage." Perry can't help laughing it out, relaxing back in the seat as they bullet down the street, dodging the overturned and wrecked vehicles. She only bothers to slow down where four main battle tanks were blown apart. Once weaved through, she takes a left onto a main drive and once again hits the gas. "Shit, forgot my own sunglasses. Good point. HEY!" she calls, loud enough for Kapali to be sure to hear. "When we get one site, everybody moves in pairs. Kapali, you're with me! I want everything that might be considered a creature comfort! Clothes are the primary target. But if you can find accessories like sunglasses, wristbands, watches, earrings, perfumes and colognes, grab it! Don't waste our motherfrakking time with video games. We can always come back for those. If we come back with video games and personal bling then 3/8th will have our asses. We want to come back? Let's make this count." There's several rows of four-story apartment buildings looming up ahead. Maybe half a dozen. It looks like it was once a nice area. Out this far, though, not much has been cleaned up. They're more than four miles from the flightline. There are a few Centurions on the ground. And some skeletal remains with tattered uniforms covering most of the bones. Maybe it's not going to be a vacation.

"Roger that, Staff," Kapali shouts back over the sound of the wind, that fierce grin AGAIN forming on her face. "Plus, the bums who wants the games and crap can volunteer to help us with the next run after we share the spoils from this one," confidence there, again, in her voice. Belief in mission is a core necessity and she has it, in spades. She angles to the side so that she can grin at Perry through the back window, "I came loaded with enough rucks to make a bellhop cry, Staff."

"That's what happens when you're in a rush, Staff," Dreyer notes, glancing sidelong at Perry from behind his own shaded lenses. He doesn't seem bothered by the speed or the times they have to evade obstacles in the road. Nope. The man just watches out the window and eats chips. He even extends the bag towards the JTAC in a silent offer to share at one point. When they come into sight of more signs of explicit battle, however, his expression sobers. By a fair deal.

"Hey, those games are good for eye hand coordination," Randy pipes up and everything on her face seems to indicate she's serious. But it's a fleeting expression of disappointment. She's got bigger things on the brain. Ever since they landed Randy's been nearly dead silent and had some form of a hang dog look on her face. When she sees Dreyer's face sober, she hops up onto her knees to get a look at what's hushed everyone up so much. She takes off her hat and holds it to her chest, squinting to see if she can make out the names on the uniforms.

Perry does take a few chips but that's about it. As they pull into the apartment complex, she slows down a lot and comes to a stop in front of the closest building. They can tell that Centurions moved through here when the NCO's were still trying to get organized. There are bodies scattered and the barracks houses are pockmarked. Loose shellcasings blow in the wind, clinking across the pavement. Perry just puts the truck in park and looks around as she gets out. Keys into her pocket. She unfolds three duffel rucks to full size and slings them over her shoulders. "Graves detail will be through here to take care of the bodies. There is absolutely nothing we can do for these people outside. You will find more inside, count on it. Put a blanket over the ones inside and make sure we respect where we go. We've been scavenging off dead people for a year now. But this time it's fallen Marines and their personal belongings, not their extra ammo. No video games." She then turns and walks them towards the entrance, a set of double glass doors like a small hotel. No gun out, she just walks right down the halls. "We'll hit mine first. Dreyer and Randy, hit the one across the hall from me. He's an average size guy so grab everything you can." The floors like like every other base these people have been to. Standard Issue floors and hallways. But there are bulletholes in all the walls and a few bodies on the floors - gunned down as they ran. With most of the windows smashed at least it doesn't stink in here.

Rolling over the side of the truck bed to land on her feet, Kapali shoulders the ruck that's stuffed with several others and bounces briefly on her feet, glad of real gravity beneath her for a change, before she moves to follow the Staff into the building. "The area has been checked by EOD to ensure there were no mines set or traps laid after combat ended, Staff?" is the only real question she has as she hustles to keep pace. The bounce and glee of being planet side is wiped away as a serious, professional, mien settles in place instead. The dead bodies they encounter are noted, position wise, and moved around with adroit care and respect for the dead.

The empty chip bag is stuffed in a pocket and Dreyer pats down where the other bag and sandwich rest. A fun side-effect of moving into action while eating is your body takes longer to acknowledge it's been fed. But they're parked and he's grabbing bags, himself. Some opened fully, some left closed for now. Possibly more than they can use, but better to return with empty bags than leave more goods behind. On the approach to the building, he pulls off his sunglasses and tucks them into a pocket. There's a glance up and then back down, starting to head inside. "Aye," he offers to Perry at the orders issued. His default half-smile lingers, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Anton just shifts the bags and heads into the apartment noted, making his way for closet and dresser.

The other EOD isn't as graceful. She climbs to a point where she can hop down from the truck. She doesn't say anything in response to the Staff Sergeant. She reaches up to put her hat back on and simply nods. "Last thing I want to do is walk into a trap." She shakes her head as if it's full of cobwebs and turns to grab the rucks she'd brought, a foot off of the tire so she can reach them. "Alright ready, as long as we're clear."

"No idea if EOD has been through here. I'm not going to assume either way. If something feels wrong, just don't go into the apartment. But we don't have time to clear all of them." That's probably not reassuring to the EOD techs along for the trip. But all of the doors have been blasted open with machiengun fire. Perry leads the way into hers and she heads right for the bedroom. The place is fairly nice, but NCO's have better places to live. A kitchenette, living room, eating area, bedroom. Inside the bedroom she opens the closet and begins stuffing dresses and clothes into the bags. "On the dresser, put everything into the wooden jewelrybox and wrap the box in shirts, please." She's stuffing everything she can into her bags.

Meanwhile, in the other apartment they've hit paydirt. The guy has a closet full of different outfits, including snow gear like hats and goggles. He has half a dozen pairs of shoes.

<FS3> Dreyer rolls Alertness: Success.

Taking a single glance around the former quarters of the Staff, Kapali proves that she's not the least bit nosey and follows perry through to the bedroom and eyes the top of the dresser while unpacking the ruck that she's carrying. "Roger that, staff," as she opens the wooden jewelry box and carefully scoops everything into the box itself. The box is then held with one hand to secure it while she opens the top most drawer and snags the first piece of clothing she finds and wraps it around the box. The next piece of clothing is similarly wrapped, swaddling the jewelry box in not one but two layers, before it is placed in the bottom of the first of the rucks that she is carrying. It is joined, in short order, by everything else in the top drawer before she nudges it back into place, opens the next one and keeps going. "If we have time, Staff, and room, maybe we can swing through the commissary on the way out. Pick up anything that looks like the women might light. shampoo, deodorant, hell even the unmentionables we use every month. Sure, the corps has that down to a science, but come on, there's better options than what comes out of the kit," she doesn't grumble this, just says it conversationally as she keeps going, filling the first ruck to the point that it's almost straining the seams then seals it and goes for the next.

<FS3> Randy rolls Alertness: Great Success.

The EOD aspects aren't a concern to Dreyer, but he's keeping an eye out for other things. You never know what might be handy. No, not video games. "Got a lot here," he calls over to Randy, dropping to start stuffing shoes into one of the duffels. Each pair is checked; no point bringing back anything falling apart. A pair of trainers gets tossed aside for just that reason. Better to not think about the man himself; it's all going to the greater CMC cause. "Wanna check the dresser?" This to Flynn, over his shoulder. It's with that glance that he spots the back of the bedroom door. "Sweet." And there, upon the door? A whole slew of sunglasses. Much love for the metrosexuals in the CMC right now. He hooks them over the collar and into the loops of his vest for now; they can get tossed into bags later, when it'll be safe.

"Yeah?" Randy just makes sure that she checks out the room with a cursory glance here and there where /she/ might hide something nasty. It's like scratching an itch. She can't resist even when she's in a totally safe location. "Sure." She walks over to the dresser and takes a deep breath before pulling open the top drawer. "Oh hooooo, what do we have here." Something's suddenly got Randy all chipper as she drops a tube of something into one of her rucksacks oh so quickly. "Okay, question. Would you wear someone else's underwear if the size fit?" Of course she takes the socks. Some of them are nice and woolen, some cotton in dark or popping colors. She tosses a pair of mens briefs behind her. "Nah. You're a boxers guy."

"Good point, Kipali. Don't know if we can hit the commisary but anytime we're in a lady's place, take everything in the loo. I mean -everything-." She quickly moves into her own and there's clattering as she sweeps everything into the bottom of the bag and then comes back out. She dumps the drawers into the bag and stuffs the wrapped box in there. Shoes on top. She grabs five pairs and then takes one last look around. Oh! Family photo from the bedstand. That gets tucked into a cargo pocket and she moves out. "Next room. Another female. I want us to get at least two sets of clothes from every room on this floor. We have fifteen minutes." The Staff speaks loudly enough to be heard by all. "If we still have room left, we hit the second floor. We leave when our bags are full or twenty minutes! Move move move!" She puts a shoulder into the machinegunned door of the woman next door.

Kapali is literally rifling through and raiding Perry's drawers one after another, not really paying tons of attention into what is going into each bag aside for making sure that she takes every last stitch of clothing. Once all is confiscated, and secured, she joins the Staff at the door without a single glance back, upward and onward. She angles straight through the bathroom, stuffing everything from the shelves, cabinets, even raiding the shower stall for bottles of shampoo, soaps, razors, all of it going into a ruck designated for this purpose before doubling back and raiding the wardrobe for clothing and shoes.

<FS3> Randy rolls Alertness: Success.

"Yes, I wear boxers. And I'd rather not wear someone else's. Surely we'll come across some department store on a mission." A man can dream. Dreyer goes back to the closet, stuffing more odds and ends into the first bag, along with the shoes he's decided do get taken. "Got it," he calls back, opting to leave the heavy winter coat behind. It takes up too much space and gets tossed to the bed. Some flannels, however, do go in before he's hiking off to the next room. There is a body inside and with a grunt, Anton drops his bags, goes to find a blanket, and tend to that before returning to rifling through belongings for suitable goods to bring 'home.' It's just a moment of reverence and then he's in another closet. Fewer shoes, but a decent pair of sneakers that get tossed in. Clothes are gone through rapidly, but the MP seems to be working on a basis of 'if it's in decent condition' for what he grabs.

Randy makes quick work of the dresser after her minor dallying and makes sure to grab the snow goggles and a scarf. It's something she's familiar with, an impulsive grab. She nods to Perry when they regroup and hops to. "Hey if you see any you know, girly products for the time of the month, let me know. I'll clean them out," she lets Dreyer know in between rooms. She stops behind Dreyer and waits for him to put the blanket over the body before starting in on the place. As Anton makes for the closet, she goes for the dresser again, though this time she happens upon a jacket. Randy peeks over at Dreyer and then stuffs it into the sack. Gotta grab something remotely good before it's gone. Randy's no stranger to this sort of work. "Alright. It's time to rendezvous," she says to the man and then taps the door jam on the way out.

Twenty minutes and a couple upstairs apartments later, Perry is standing out front of the apartment block. All three of the duffels she has are filled to the brim. The one with her things in it is marked clearly with her own name, too, stencilied in when it was drawn from Orion supply. It was a damned good run and they found a lot of good stuff. The sort of raid that someoen can feel good about. Creature comforts that make life more bearable. Femenine products and even men's doedorant was grabbed. When they found the stash of alcohol, she ordered each person to take one bottle and she took three, two of them for officers to get some retroactive blessing. And five pounds of gourmet coffee - one for each Marine and one for Fairfax. Each ruck is carefully placed into the bed of the truck and she looks back to the other Marines. "We will probably be back and when we are, we can be picky. For now, this was solid work. I want to thank each of you. Nobody likes picking over dead Marines but you probably just saved a few lives too just by making lives easier. Let's go." She then moves back for the driver's seat.

Kapali exhibits a measure of prudent caution as she rigs a tie down rope and secures all the the rucks in the truck bed with a length of rope she'd packed in her gear, running the rope through the rings set inside the edges of the truck bed and securing with a rough tie that she holds to once she resumes her position in the truck bed. The bag that holds the loot from Perry's gear, including the wooden box, is secured right near where she is seated so that she can keep an eye on it. Her loot is secured in the bag worn over her shoulders, one hand slapping against the roof of the cab to signal that the bags are secure, leaving room only for herself and Randy.

"Sure." There's no protest from Dreyer about it, but he's not come across it yet. There's been no squirreling away of anything on the man's part. Maybe he's not spotted anything. Maybe he took the morale part of the mission to heart. Really, it's just not in his wheelhouse to go in with personal interests in mind. He's got spare civvy outfits. There may be a pair of shoes where the laces are tied together to try on later, but that's about it. The MP is fairly laden down when they return out and he checks bags after tossing them into the truck to identify the one that his bottle (scotch) is tucked into. Lastly, sunglasses are plucked off his armor and shirt, tucked carefully into a bag that's more clothes than anything else. The only pair left out is his own, which he puts back on. "I'd like to think they'd rather see it all go to use in the corps than be left to rot." He checks a few of the straps for Kapali on the opposite side before heading for the door; pulling sandwich out of his pocket even as he does. What time is it? Snack tiem!

Randy tosses up her sacks to Kapali and then hops up after her to help finish tying everything down. She crawls back to the side and maneuvers herself into the little spot next to Kapali, opposite of Perry's personal haul. She reaches up to pull off her cap and wipes some sweat off her brow with her sleeve. "Frakin cozy back here. We did good." Sure, she knows exactly which bag that jacket is in and where in it, but she was way more interested in the liquor and coffee than anything else. She'll have to relocate those goggles if she wants them, but for right now, she leans back and sighs. "So glad that's over."

The drive back is pretty uneventful, but Perry takes the long way. Meaning she picks a playlist on the truck's MP3 player and lets it ride while she drives them across the base, letting them forget the grisly sights of the bodies and what had to be done. She smiles under her sunglasses, relaxing back and thinking about the personal stuff she's going to keep and what's to be donated. The air is warm and so is the feeling inside. An hour after finally leaving the apartments she pulls them up to the Raptor pads and helps with unloading. Time to head home and deliver the gifts.

Untying the knot from the end nearest her position, Kapali helps unravel the ties entirely until all of the rucks and duffel bags are free and ready to be extracted from the truck bed. She dismounts the truck bed just as before, rolling over the side of it to land on her feet with a light bounce. Offering a hand to Randy to help the other EOD marine out of the truck bed before all the bags are extracted and then reloaded, heaviest bags on the bottom to be sorted around. Her own stash of coffee, bottle of booze, various odds and ends are snugged behind her when she takes a seat at last, having snagged a single rock somewhere along the way to add to her collection.

The fresh air and open skies of the ride back is a welcome thing. Dreyer eats his sandwich relatively quickly and leans back into the seat, closing his eyes. His cap is pulled off and dropped to his lap, the breeze coming through the windows left to cool him down. To feel it in his hair; a thing that so quickly becomes foreign. About midway through the drive, the second bag of chips is opened and placed conveniently so that the JTAC can reach it as well. The MP is quiet for it: content to just take in the experience of being off the ship… and not being shot at. When they arrive back at the launch pads, he tugs his cap back on and hops out, handily grabbing bags to load into the Raptor for their return. There's a bit of shoelace (from a shoe that wasn't fit to be brought along) tied to one of the bags. The one with his booze and coffee. He's not picky on where it goes in the loading process, but he does make note of it.

Randy takes some of that time on the road to relocate her bottle of liquor and bag of coffee into the same bag with the jacket in it so its easier to find, but after that, she's dead quiet again. She forces herself to sit up and drink in the sights, the air, the frakking music. "Music," she mumbles, eyes closing as if finally finding some peace in this universe, or maybe just some escape. When they arrive, she stays in the bed of the truck to help toss rucks down and then takes Kapali's hand as she finds purchase on the outside of the truck to descend. She nods to the marine in thanks and then helps load up the bird. She scoots her butt in last and slaps the hatch's jam, just a little love tap to accompany, "All loaded up."

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