Post by flippmoke on Dec 21, 2009 10:51:40 GMT -5
The relentless wind continued to kick up the snow around the Medea and the buzzing sound in the cockpit was a warning that Nigel would rather of not had to deal with again.
"The de-icer is out on the left wing again," said the pilot as he turned to look at Nigel who was already thoroughly annoyed.
"Yeah its only like the fourth times it has happened," muttered Nigel as he immediately left the cockpit making his way to the back of the Medea where the men of the 1st platoon were sitting drinking some warm water.
"Broken again?" said Kyle with a frown as he looked up to see Nigel shaking his head.
"Of course everything breaks, it was built by the lowest bidder," said Nigel as he limped to sit down on a box next to the make shift table the rest of the platoon had gathered around.
"I would be happy to do it if we could get some damn coffee here," said Tim Sheetz as he looked outside to the bleak weather that they would soon have to enter.
"No shit," said Andrew Young as he shook his head at the prospect of entering the miserable weather.
"I guess I will take first shift," said Mike with a sigh as he looked out at the snow that was blowing horizontally outside the Medea.
"Don't worry about it, I have got it this time," said Nigel as he picked up a pack of tools still limping with his broken leg.
"Sir, I don't think in your condition," said Kyle as he spoke up trying to stop Nigel who was already heading out of the Medea into the horrid weather. However, Nigel ignored it entirely and was limping out into the deep snow.
"What the fuck happened to him?" said Andrew with a look of total shock on his face, "Hell when we first got here we couldn't get him away from the heater."
"Beats the hell out of me," said Kyle who looked at everyone else at the table who all had shocked looks on their faces.
The weather was whipping around Nigel outside as he limped carrying the toolbox to the edge of the wing where he began motioning to one of the GM CCTs that was still outside the Medea. The pilot of the suit then gently lifted Nigel up from the snow floor to the wing of the Medea that was heavily covered in snow. Hobbling down the wing a bit, Nigel suddenly stopped and began to push snow off the wing of the aircraft to the side of one of the Medea's engines.
"Stupid fucking snow, stupid fucking Medea, stupid fucking zeeks," thought Nigel as he finally kicked enough snow out of the way to find the access panel for which he was looking.
"Stupid fucking snipers, stupid fucking blizzards, stupid fucking de-icer," continued Nigels thoughts as he pulled out a few of the tools that were in the leather bag.
Inside the Medea Mike was putting on more clothes as he prepared to go out into the blizzard to take his shift on the wing.
"He has been acting totally different from when we were in the desert," said Andrew to Mike as he put on another jacket.
"I know and I don't think he is going insane," said Mike as he looked around at what else he might be able to put on before going outside.
"Maybe the cold weather has gone to his head," said Nathan Liles speaking up on the condition of their commanding officer.
"I think he has been different ever since he almost died going down with the Benedictus," stated Kyle as he thought hard about what had changed in Nigel.
"Probably has to do with losing his whole family and wife too," responded Andrew as he looked out in the blizzard looking for Nigel.
"Either way, I actually like it more now, I haven't heard anyone call him Foxhole Ferdinand at all recently, and speak of which isn't his shift supposed to be done by now?" said Tim Sheetz as he walked towards the rear of the boxlike hanger.
"Yeah he should be back by now, go take over for him Mike," answered Kyle as motioned towards the door.
"Alright, I will go get him," said Mike as he lowered his head some heading out into the blizzard.
Several minutes passed as the men inside the hanger continued to talk about nothing important, then the door suddenly opened again to reveal Mike Rhea walking back into the Medea.
"Why are you back here?" demanded Kyle as he hurried over to a pile of winter gear on the floor.
"He told me to go fuck myself," said Mike with a slightly shocked look on his face.
"He has lost it, he is going to freeze to death out there," stressed Kyle as he began to pile on his own clothes in preparation for his own trip out into the freezing weather. Several of the men then also started to do the same, however as Kyle was about to open the door to the outside it swung open on its own. Nigel appeared with the bag of tools and several inches of snow covering his body.
"Its fucking fixed, good to see you guys are all suited up, now go get the suits we are getting the hell out of here," ordered Nigel as he hobbled back to the cockpit of the Medea.
All of the men looked stunned as if they had seen a ghost, but then suddenly began to smile in ways they all just couldn't explain. Their expressions to each other said it all as they continued to put on their cold climate gear.
"Al-right, you heard him, lets get this done," said Kyle with a broad grin on his face.
The men of the 42nd Brigade suddenly felt a way they hadn't since Joe Dzurik had died, they had a leader again.
"The de-icer is out on the left wing again," said the pilot as he turned to look at Nigel who was already thoroughly annoyed.
"Yeah its only like the fourth times it has happened," muttered Nigel as he immediately left the cockpit making his way to the back of the Medea where the men of the 1st platoon were sitting drinking some warm water.
"Broken again?" said Kyle with a frown as he looked up to see Nigel shaking his head.
"Of course everything breaks, it was built by the lowest bidder," said Nigel as he limped to sit down on a box next to the make shift table the rest of the platoon had gathered around.
"I would be happy to do it if we could get some damn coffee here," said Tim Sheetz as he looked outside to the bleak weather that they would soon have to enter.
"No shit," said Andrew Young as he shook his head at the prospect of entering the miserable weather.
"I guess I will take first shift," said Mike with a sigh as he looked out at the snow that was blowing horizontally outside the Medea.
"Don't worry about it, I have got it this time," said Nigel as he picked up a pack of tools still limping with his broken leg.
"Sir, I don't think in your condition," said Kyle as he spoke up trying to stop Nigel who was already heading out of the Medea into the horrid weather. However, Nigel ignored it entirely and was limping out into the deep snow.
"What the fuck happened to him?" said Andrew with a look of total shock on his face, "Hell when we first got here we couldn't get him away from the heater."
"Beats the hell out of me," said Kyle who looked at everyone else at the table who all had shocked looks on their faces.
The weather was whipping around Nigel outside as he limped carrying the toolbox to the edge of the wing where he began motioning to one of the GM CCTs that was still outside the Medea. The pilot of the suit then gently lifted Nigel up from the snow floor to the wing of the Medea that was heavily covered in snow. Hobbling down the wing a bit, Nigel suddenly stopped and began to push snow off the wing of the aircraft to the side of one of the Medea's engines.
"Stupid fucking snow, stupid fucking Medea, stupid fucking zeeks," thought Nigel as he finally kicked enough snow out of the way to find the access panel for which he was looking.
"Stupid fucking snipers, stupid fucking blizzards, stupid fucking de-icer," continued Nigels thoughts as he pulled out a few of the tools that were in the leather bag.
Inside the Medea Mike was putting on more clothes as he prepared to go out into the blizzard to take his shift on the wing.
"He has been acting totally different from when we were in the desert," said Andrew to Mike as he put on another jacket.
"I know and I don't think he is going insane," said Mike as he looked around at what else he might be able to put on before going outside.
"Maybe the cold weather has gone to his head," said Nathan Liles speaking up on the condition of their commanding officer.
"I think he has been different ever since he almost died going down with the Benedictus," stated Kyle as he thought hard about what had changed in Nigel.
"Probably has to do with losing his whole family and wife too," responded Andrew as he looked out in the blizzard looking for Nigel.
"Either way, I actually like it more now, I haven't heard anyone call him Foxhole Ferdinand at all recently, and speak of which isn't his shift supposed to be done by now?" said Tim Sheetz as he walked towards the rear of the boxlike hanger.
"Yeah he should be back by now, go take over for him Mike," answered Kyle as motioned towards the door.
"Alright, I will go get him," said Mike as he lowered his head some heading out into the blizzard.
Several minutes passed as the men inside the hanger continued to talk about nothing important, then the door suddenly opened again to reveal Mike Rhea walking back into the Medea.
"Why are you back here?" demanded Kyle as he hurried over to a pile of winter gear on the floor.
"He told me to go fuck myself," said Mike with a slightly shocked look on his face.
"He has lost it, he is going to freeze to death out there," stressed Kyle as he began to pile on his own clothes in preparation for his own trip out into the freezing weather. Several of the men then also started to do the same, however as Kyle was about to open the door to the outside it swung open on its own. Nigel appeared with the bag of tools and several inches of snow covering his body.
"Its fucking fixed, good to see you guys are all suited up, now go get the suits we are getting the hell out of here," ordered Nigel as he hobbled back to the cockpit of the Medea.
All of the men looked stunned as if they had seen a ghost, but then suddenly began to smile in ways they all just couldn't explain. Their expressions to each other said it all as they continued to put on their cold climate gear.
"Al-right, you heard him, lets get this done," said Kyle with a broad grin on his face.
The men of the 42nd Brigade suddenly felt a way they hadn't since Joe Dzurik had died, they had a leader again.