Nevada sat in the mess hall, chatting it up with a few of the ship's engine crew. He had just enjoyed a meal of regulation steak which tasted like cardboard and vegetables that just tasted horrible. He heard a ping from his helmet and placed it on his head. Once sensing it's owner had put it on, the helmet transmitted the message. Nevada sighed and took his helmet back off. "Well everyone, it looks like I'm needed elsewhere. Try not to die of boredom without me." He stood up, slung his helmet under his arm, and headed out of the mess. On his way to the Training Room, he stopped by the armory and picked up an SMG. Then he headed into the room and saw Georgia, California, and Alabama. Nevada walked over to Alabama and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey Allie, how's it goin?"