Soldiers of Steel

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dunruffle, Mar 31, 2014.

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  1. The large shuttle slowly settled onto the hanger floor, its ramp extending with a clang as the engines slowly shut down. A large vid screen was blaring loudly in the background, a female news anchor wearing a somber expression was giving a speech. "Today marks the one year anniversary of the Zenith Valley massacre, where once revered war hero Lars Grey gunned down hundreds of innocents. The murderer was finally put down by government forces after a fierce battle that claimed the lives of several brave mech pilots. While Lars may be dead the blood on his hands still torments the families of those killed..." The vid screen was abruptly turned off as several workers got up from their seats and went about retrieving the various cargo from the shuttle. A large airlock door with the number 11 boldly painted on slowly opened as a robotic voice instructed all passengers to enter the airlock for screening.
     
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  2. Jodie's back leaning against a cold steel platted wall, a cigarette held tight between two fingers as a puff of smoke was exhaled into the air. She had her legs sticking out, slightly crossed in front of her and a red and blue leather luggage case nonchalantly laying at her side, which you could only guess was hers as well. Passing by workers had Joe surrounded, holding tight boxes and crates, cargo from a large shuttle that had just recently landed. But the lingering of her eyes was settled on something else, the vid. screen that was held up high, showed a young woman, maybe around her late 30's. In a bright blue pencil skirt and blouse, telling of the One year Anniversary of the Zenith Valley Massacre. A shiver went down Joe's spin when ever it was brought it, you would have thought she was there by how she reacted on the inside. Her stomach turned and her blood boiled. To think a man could easily just kill of people.. and enjoy it. It was a good thing he was dead.
    Flinging the butt on the ground, she used her right foot to stomp out the remaining light. Joe ran her fingers through her silky brown hair and held it up tight, to take an elastic and wrap it around. Hair now in a pony tail she seemed to complete her over all, "I'm not joking around" aura. Which always seemed to take strangers by surprise. Maybe it was because she was all work no play. Or maybe it was because she was female and most females don't wear armored suits, pleated boots and had automatic guns holstered around their back. Then again , she wasn't your everyday normal flimsy girl.
    Walking towards the entrance of Shuttle eleven, she wasn't sure whether it was alright to go inside yet. In all honesty she didn't really want to go at all, this was helping the exact same people that threatened her home planet. To overthrow the government in which she was raised upon, to take away her brothers and use them as weapons in the battle field. It was a shame they ended up that way anyhow, seeing as her parents were always tough and enforcing the military law. The one thing people had the most time getting use to in training was the yelling and insults. But Jodie had no problem with them, maybe because it was the force her parents had when they called her bad names and such to her face. The way they treated all seven kids like pawns in a loosing game. But not this time, this time she was going to win. And go back to Sector Eight, with a medal of honor. And to show to her mother that it wasn't all bad as it seemed. And now that Jodie could stand up for herself and not have to depend on others resistance.
    Jodie shook her head and rubbed the temples in place, why was she thinking about this stuff now anyway? Just get on the damn ship and let's go. Hmm, now that she thought bout it. Who was she going to be on this mission with, the feeling of dread had suddenly sunk in. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hopeful as she originally thought.
     
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  3. His eyes were glued to the screen. Each, and every time, it gets him. And it pisses him off. Given rewards? Check. Honored? Check. Retired and guaranteed to live the good life? Check. And he threw it all away. But to be honest? He couldn't help comparing the two of them. Both wore masks. Lars wore his mask in order to hide his blood lust. Yong wore his to conceal his fear. He shook his head, after all, he couldn't think of things like that at the moment. Honestly? He wished that he didn't get assigned to "11", as he called it. Most likely? His teammates were all tough, hardened soldiers who would most likely scoff at him. He didn't have a choice, though. The GG itself had assigned this to him, and for that he was grateful of their recognition of his service. He had always wanted to join the military, like his family. However, after seeing the Zenith Massacre live, he had grown disgusted by "heroes." To him, each person had their own special traits, qualities, and in the end, a hero just stole the glory from everyone else. As he strode up to the shuttle, his face twisted back into it's signature, arrogant and cocksure smile, in public view. Some people avoided him, some spat at him, and one tripped him. He quickly recovered, after all, he remembered how much times this had happened when he was in a normal squad. This was honestly an improvement. Walking up to the shuttle, he found someone already standing there, as if debating whether to go in or not. Lowering his voice, he decided to play a little prank, "Ma'am. By order 17 you are under arrest for loitering near transportation." Not even waiting to see if his prank succeeded in startling the woman, he slipped past and into the shuttle. It was then he just realized that the woman he had talked to was probably on his team. And now, probably two steps away from killing him if she was as professional as the soldiers he expected to find on the ship.
     
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  4. James was getting sick of the military shit. There was no telling how many times he had been transferred anymore. Hopefully he'd finally stick at Sec 11, or get fired for insubordination, or die or something to be done with this bullshit. And the lady on the TV was a whore. Well, not really, James was just angry. At everything. The whole thing is pointless. Several hundred innocents murdered by Lars? What about the several billion that's already died in the wars. For what? Power hungry pricks in fancy costumes.
    Best not to question it, he thought. If he got too fired up about it he'd stop fighting and likely die very gruesomely. Pain was not his favorite thing in the world. Nor was loud noises. And right now, this damned shuttle was pretty loud. What will all the workers about, unloading stuff. James didn't even know where the bloody thing landed, or what was in the crates.
    Either way, he headed towards the airlock as soon as he could. After an uncomfortably thorough screening, he finally was inside the current home of Section 11.
    "Here... we... go." he said, and began anxiously toying with his most prized tomahawk, looking around to find his mech. And maybe someone to explain why the hell he was here.
     
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  5. A colonol with greying hair stepped into the hanger with a datapad in hand. "you three! You are the new batch are you not?" Without waiting for a reply he turned around and beckoned for the soldiers to follow him. Leading the three through a labryinth of hallways he finally stopped in a large conference room. Turning around he looked each of the soldiers in the eye. "My name is colonol preston. I will be your new CO (commanding officer), by joining section 11 you have are now our property. You cannot contact the outside world without our say so, any violations of this rule and you will be thrown into a hole and forgotten. If you follow our rules and dont question our orders you will retire happy and wealthy. But if you tell anyone of what you did here you will dissapear..." Nodding in satisfaction Preston sighs angrily and leans forward conspiritorially. "for future reference I was not aware of his existence until I was transferred here. I am sorry." Suddenly a door opened and a sinister laugh echoed from within "hey preston, look im on the news!" Lumbering out of the doorway Lars casually strolled in, his hair was gone and his face had several scars but he was instantly recognizable. Scowling in anger Preston gestured to Lars. "this...monster here is the final member of your squad." Lars grinned and held out his hand for them to shake, the explosive collar around his neck gleaming in the light. "so you all are gonna be riding with me huh? This outta be fun." He chuckled the exact same way he had a year ago when he was mowing down the innocent bystanders.
     
    #5 Dunruffle, Apr 1, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 1, 2014
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  6. Jodie almost didn't notice the commotion at first, ignoring a young male who had tried to trick her so diligently. And honest to say it almost worked, seeing as how she turned a 180 to face nothingness. A slight breeze passing by her right ear as the being walked in behind her. Though her disgruntle sigh was dismissed by the over powering noise the shuttle seemed to emit, confusion could still be seen plastered on her face. She hadn't even been here that long and already people were seeming to mess with her head, though it wasn't all that good. Jodie had let her guard down enough to let someone pass by her without notice. And with that in mind, she jerked her head to both side, making a blatant cracking sound. Time to wake up and smell the coffee.
    Another man had seemed to arrive as well, by this time she was leaning on the outside of the Shuttle 11. Not wanting to go inside quiet yet seeing as she still hasn't seen any sign of any commander. Wasn't this mission suppose to be ... chaperoned?.. as much as she hated admitting it. She as well as any other "right in their mind" soldier did not to be babysat whiles on a mission of this degree. Some order was always needed, yes. But a Commanding officer? Was that entirely necessary? Maybe, seeing as the first impression of her fellow mates had already been thrown to the dogs.
    A slightly balding man, with white-grey hair stepped out between them and the shuttle, directing them to all follow him quickly. Unsure of the great urgentness, she quickly let go of her luggage and followed the man blindly. It wasn't a wise idea, but seeing as he had on a uniform from the GG and many medals upon his chest. She could only guess he had been legit, but still tensed up near her pocket knife when feeling threatened. He had turned a corner into an open room with a large table and many chairs, a large screen glued to the wall behind them. Crossing her arms, Jodie stood up straight, standing next to the two men from earlier. One with a mask and suit on her right. As the other one lingered around her left with a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. They seemed friendly enough, though that was the last thing that came across her mind as the Colonel started to apologize sincerely. Jodie's eyes twitched, again confused but showed no emotion as to why. Then he stepped out.
    Standing before them in the doorway was a man, presumed to be dead by the whole world. Though in old photo's a single scar riddled his face and many medals adorned his clothing did not give him any justice to as he was looking now. In the doorway, he stood clothed in armor, many scars abruptly protrude from his face as a slight twinkle in his eyes gleamed. If it wasn't for the training from many years of childhood labor, she jut might of stared wide eyed and gasping. But her mother always said to keep a good composure, even towards the most unpleasant of people. "Is this some kind of sick joke, " She replied, turning towards the Colonel. "I don't believe this.... Lars is dead.. and has been dead for a long time.. are you telling me he just suddenly popped up out of the blue like this?"

    The last person in the whole word she expected to be alive was standing there. This had to be some kind of trick, a test! To maybe see how gullible they are towards, one of which she was not.
     
    #6 Tiltshift, Apr 1, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 2, 2014
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  7. A trained soldier, or eye would have seen it. The involuntary, small, twitch. Barely noticeable, but it was still there. At first, it seemed all right. Four people. Him, girl, guy, and the CO. Then, of course, HE came along. It took every ounce of self control for Yong not to jump back, curse, or draw his gun. Instead, his left arm twitched. Why? Why did the GG spare such a scumbag? It was then he noticed the collar. Instead of being relieved, he started panicking even more internally. IF that guy goes off? He's GOING to go off. Just a question of when.... And when he does, I'd rather be FAR from him, to escape him AND the explosive payload he's wearing. He was glad that his face mask concealed his emotions, or everyone on the shuttle would have seen the surprise and hate in his eyes. Instead, to them he was emotionless. Unconsciously, his left hand drew closer to his pistol, and his right hand extended mechanically out to shake. His shake wasn't firm, or convincing. It was a light shake that he rubbed off of his hand the moment he drew back. Most would assume his cockiness had sprung back up. Professionals knew what the gesture really meant. His red left eye stared at the murderer as he shook. Of course, the handshake was as far as he was going to go. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a coward. Any further aggravation would probably end up with him six feet under. Or in the wind, depending on how vicious Lars was. His voice was as mechanical as his handshake, "Hello. I've heard quite a bit about you. Enjoying your fame, corpse?" Consciously, his left hand tightened around the pistol he was carrying. If Lars attacks him, either Yong would have the excuse to kill him, or Lars would rip him in half. Either would be preferable to working with him. Keeping his outward appearance disinterested, he started flipping a coin. Murderers know no redemption. Up and up, the coin rose. The shiny head of one of the GG officials. On the other side, tails, a tall GG building, radiating with splendor. The blood that covers Lars is a testament to his sins. And to Yong, he couldn't even tell the murderers skin color apart from the deep wash of red engulfing it. The coin finished its descent into the air. Honestly, though, he didn't know who to blame. The GG officials, who ran the GG, or the GG structure, which, for whatever reason, needed a dangerous convict. The coin smacked into his waiting palm. Heads.
     
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  8. Wilson strode through the doorway behind Lars, simply saying to him as he passed by, "Back from the dead already?" in a slight Irish accent. Slipping around him, he raised an eyebrow at the Colonel, obviously skeptic. "Last member of the team, yeah? You forget me or something, Colonel?" He moved to the back of the room, sparing a few moments to take in the other few pilots, and flash a friendly, though calculating, smile. Then he leaned against the wall, crossed one of his legs across his other knee, and crossed his arms. He didn't appear to have much respect for military tradition and order, having been so casual.
     
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  9. James shrugged as he followed the CO. Finally an explanation. And it was about damn time, too. Fist, transfer without prior notice. With no explanation. And now, according to this guy, now outside contact? Just what the hell was Sec 11?
    And then he arrived. Lars fuckin' Grey. Shortly followed by an Irish asshat. Great. A bunch of loud people to ruin his mood. This is exactly why he became a scout: to avoid these kind of people. Loud, obnoxious, battle-hungry. Just standing near Lars was making his stomach churn. How could a person enjoy this kinda shit? It was sickening. He had to admit, there was something intriguing about being the deliverer of death, but he didn't revel in being a killer, like Lars.
    "Oh, great, a chick, a Mask, an Irish, a scout, and a mass murderer. Nice team y' got here, CO." he said. The statement was dripping with sarcasm. A bunch of misfit soldiers with no info about each other are now all part of a team. Great. Whose next? A sociopathic clown? James just wanted out of the rapidly crowding room. The only confined space he enjoyed was that of his mech. His beautiful, quiet, air-walking mech.
    Alright, enough mental bitching, back with the program.
    The whole thing was still ridiculous to him, but there wasn't much fighting it. Best to just go with the flow for now.
     
    #9 Thomas McTavish, Apr 2, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 2, 2014
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  10. Colonol Preston sighs "I asked the same thing when I first met him.." He quickly replies to Jodie then looks through his datapad, "alright, according to my supervisor we will have two more recruits arriving later. For now I will leave you with Lars to show you around." Before anyone can reply Preston quickly exits through the door they entered through and disappears. Lars slowly grins and cracks his knuckles. "well well well, I can tell we are all going to get along just fine.." Still grinning Lars leads the group through several hallways until they get to the bunks. "this here is your bunks, they are all the same so pick whichever you like." at the far end of the hall the last bunk door is reinforced with metal and there are several suspicious looking marks stained on the door. "Lars points to it as they walk past, "that one is mine, try not to wake me up because I am not a morning person." Walking through several more doors they wind up in the mech hangar. "Your mechs are being delivered as we speak. After our little tour you can go explorin to your hearts content." Turning around to face the group Lars gives them a predatory smile. "So I am sure you have all noticed my new fashion choice" he motions to the collar clamped around his neck. "this here is an explosive collar that monitors my every move. I get out of line and boom. I turn into a blood fountain." Leaning against a bulkhead Lars stares wistfully into space. "They first tried to keep me shackled all the time..but after i strangled a few guards they decided to put me on a tazer leash. But a shock is nothing compared to burning alive so after killing some more guards they put this baby on me." Lars turns back to the group and stares each of them in the eye. "but dont think that for a second you can mess with me. Here I am your squad leader, that means I have the ability to execute any of you if you disobey a direct order from our CO. Also you are all expendable compared to me. So dont be like the last pilot who decided to avenge his family." Lars' eyes turn dark and a growl rumbles from his throat. "The fucker thought I couldnt fight back because of this collar, well he regretted his choice when I ripped his throat out....so dont think you can fuck with me..because I will end you faster than this collar can stop me.." His eyes regain their sanity and he smiles happily at everyone. "so? questions, comments concerns?" He returns to acting like a tour guide, not a cold blooded murderer.
     
  11. Joe cleared her throat as her eyes darted across the room. She was very uncomfortable and her questions still hadn't been answered by the Colonel. Who just up and left them right out of the blue to leave behind a maniac tourist who massacred a group of innocents in the past life. I don't think the business really checked his resume good enough to give him the job. Plus the fact that she had not seen any other female recruits, was she to be the only one?? It didn't really surprise her as it worried her, because if any of these guys try to come on to her, she swears to god she will not be afraid to bust a nut. It was almost something she said but decided to keep her mouth shut and look around. After Lars was finished of course.

    Taking her luggage which suddenly appeared by the front door she took the bed closest to the exit. Sitting down to prop her elbows on her knee's, letting her head rest in the palms of her hands. She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples trying to distract herself from the obvious sore thumb in the room. Then a thought occurred. She turned to see if Lars was still in and as he was she stood up, looking back at him with shifting eyes. "If you wouldn't mind... Mr. Grey... could you tell me were the facilities are?" She asked with a stern yet soft voice, which always seemed to back lash in her face. Whenever she tried to act serious her fellow soldiers would just laugh. It made her disgruntled.
     
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  12. Many different thoughts raced through Erric's mind as he entered the hangar from the dropship that he arrived on, a duffle over his back and his helmet underneath his arm. He read the briefing, as well as the dossier, both of high security clearance, both documents made invalid as they were both deleted off of his datapad as soon as he read them. For once, him not being in the know gave him a sense of comfort. Who knows what Section 11 was guilty of, seeing as how the clearance runs all the way up into the corridors of power of the GG. There was no doubt in his mind that he was 'off the grid.' No outside contact. No interaction with anybody from the outside, not even family. He would obey his orders, but he didn't know if he was fighting trained opposition.. for all intents and purposes, he could be found guilty of war crimes within the next couple of months. He hoped that it wouldn't come to that. He passed into the lobby, the surfaces gleaming with surgical cleanliness. A fresh-faced, female receptionist in urban camouflage fatigues greeted him. "Welcome to Section 11, Cadet Tenenbaum. Your squad can be found in the Mech Hangar, in the east wing." Erric nodded in thanks, following her directions, entering the expansive space, filled with all manner of bipedal combat platforms. Erric noticed a group of pilots listening to a man with an explosive collar around his neck. He approached the group.

    As he got closer, he recognized the face that caused thousands pain and suffering, the archetypal fallen hero. Lars Grey. Erric knew it; he knew that psychopath didn't get charred to a crisp in the ruins of his mech at the massacre. He'd seen the combat reports; Lars was too much of an asset to be disposed of, despite his obvious proclivities for murder. Erric didn't have any snarky words to say to the shackled sociopath. He knew that he was his superior, just from the group's deference to him, so instead he decided to play it professionally; no need to be court-martialed off of the bat for insubordination. "Cadet Tenenbaum, 4th Sapper Corps, reporting in. Did I miss anything?"
     
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  13. "And yet ANOTHER ONE arrives. Fan-fuckin'-tastic. Just what this damn place needs. MORE frickin' people. By the Gods. I'm gonna go find a quiet room and try getting rid of this headache. Find me when my mech gets here, if you would, please." James asked of no one in particular. He just knew someone else was going to show up. He didn't really want to seem rude, but this was all becoming too much. He was used to quiet work with a group of people he already knew. This was just ridiculous. The only person he knew about was Lars. The girl seemed to be a nice, quiet, professional, though. He'll have to get to know her better.
    He stormed past the new member and through several corridors, and came to a stop in what seemed to be a small break room, complete with mini-fridge and coffee maker. No one was around, so he sat down at the small table and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The first moment of real silence since the engines of Shuttle 11 roared to life. It was... calming.
    He sat there like so until someone came to get him for one reason or another.
     
  14. As he followed Lars in the new group, the 'Irish' growled at the scout. "Shut your trap scoutie, all you do is run around as quietly as you can, then run away when someone looks at you. Dishonorable, really, since you're going to be supported."

    Shifting his attention, the anger from before literally just disappeared, as if never there to begin with, and asked Lars,
    "I doubt we are expendable, Ess-El Grey, just like you. We wouldn't be hand-picked for this assignment if there wasn't a legitimate reason, and to pick us from thousands like us means that they are investing a great deal of time and money into what we're doing here.

    This leads to another point, that something very big is happening here, as you probably know of, and will probably tease us about how you know and we have to find out the hard way. However, this is obviously some kind of serious threat, and they wouldn't of brought you. Losing one of us to you just up and killing one of us would anger the higher-ups very greatly. You may get away with it once, maybe, but they'd put their foot down if you're more of a liability. I doubt you could take on an entire mech platoon, or their own secret weapon they always have ready for people like you. Not to sound threatening or anything, but all of our necks are on the line. We're going into something very dangerous, that we'll all probably survive, no doubt, but we will be monitered.

    I am quite sure that those higher-ups are watching me speak right now, and will probably be quite a bit more nervous about bringing me on board.

    Spooky, dangerous places with rumors everywhere will mean something big is going on, and if any one of us proves to be more troublesome than helpful, I have no doubt they'll launch a tactical nuke from orbit. That's what I would of done, but then again, I got kicked out of CentCom."

    Then he smiles, as if accepting a cup of coffee from a close friend, and to anyone that thought things through, it would be clear something's wrong with this man.


    ((That's how I'd think, since I really have no clue what's going on.
    And if you, the GM, kills him, then you just PROVE WHAT I JUST SAID :DDDDD))
     
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  15. This time, he didn't even try to hide his sigh of disappointment. He leaned against the wall. Honestly, it hadn't even registered to him that Lars was actually alive. Most likely due to the shock. He probably wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, imagining Lars being his commander. He evaluated each one of his teammates.
    The woman was most likely the most level headed of the group. He noted her asking instead of storming out. Hopefully, she wouldn't be difficult when he relayed information on the battlefield.
    The guy who stormed off most likely needed anger management. A wonder how he actually got into "11". Then again, he didnt expect himself to get here either. From the "Irish" remark of "scoutie", he guessed that Anger Management was going to be more mobile on the field of battle. He made a note of that, as he had to keep track of everyone's roles on the field.
    "Irish" seemed to be bipolar, switching from happy go lucky (and delusional) to serious and angry. Most likely he was going to buddy up with... the abomination that was his commander. He made a mental note to not associate with Irish except when necessary.
    Sap, the guy who just walked in, seemed good enough. Then again, he barely knew anyone here long enough for him to make a good conclusion.
    Then it was him. Monster. Murderer. Traitor. Of all the people he could have been working with, he was working with that thing. He already noticed the explosive collar, but he noted the guy who had been killed, presumably while Lars outraced his collar. He made a mental note to keep a 5 feet distance from him at all times. Of course, if he knew Lars, then he would guess that he would use the same mech as before. His mech was diligently studied afte it went on the rampage, making it so Yong had more information than usual. That being said, however, it made no difference. No matter how much he knew about the mech, Lars would find a way to screw it up even more.
    While the rest couldn't see it under his mask, his mouth slightly opened. However, he didn't make a sound. He was still scared as hell at Lars, and honestly if he questioned him, Lars would probably end his life just as an example.
    To test Lars, he turned around and sat in one of the chairs in the room.... and promptly fell asleep. Even under the mask, no one could mistake the snores.
     
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  16. Lars twitched "ah...i was waiting for the smart ass of the group to appear." Lars walked over and put his arm over the shoulders of irish. "now see here buddy, you gotta realize one thing here. I am as clueless as you are, do you really think command is gonna give me their entire plan? I am just a rabid dog to them. They want something gone, they just sic me on it like the good doggy I am." Without warning Lars grabs irish by the throat and holds him up against the wall. "you think you are hot shit. Get over yourself. You are here becauseyou were the easiest to get. There are thousands of pilots more skilled than you. So dont go thinking I cant kill you." Lars then throws him to the ground and listens to him cough. At the worst possible moment Yong starts to snore loudly. Snarling in rage Lars walks over to him and looms above him. "am I boring you? Here let me fix that." Lars grabs young by his suit and hoists him up. He then violently headbutts him and lets him fall over the chair. "WAKE UP BUTTERCUP!" Turning to face the group Lars smiles, "anyone else want to test my sense of humor? You bunch are not the first group to meet me. You want to know what happened to the group before you? They didnt follow orders so I was allowed to have fun with them. You do not get shore leave, you do not get a transfer, you do not get to go AWOL. The only way you get to leave is in a bodybag. And who is going to believe that you were killed by a ghost?" Lars looked around at the group when Preston walked in. "Lars, time is up. Back to your cell." Lars nodded and lumbered out of the hangar. Preston sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Looking at Jodie he pointed to a doorway. "facilities are over there."
     
  17. The Irish just smiled at his threats, from throwing him up against a wall and everything. He didn't cough, he didn't do anything, just stabilized his breathing and stood up, except there was something different about his eyes, now. Not the normal mixture of what there would be, but rather an unreadable mix of emotions, a mix that may prove to be.. nonbeneficial. But he didn't say anything, but something was certainly on his mind.

    But then one thing came out:

    "I've no care of myself. I'm free. But I know that what's going on here is bigger than any of us."
     
  18. Wolf was late. Very late. He kept checking his watch every couple of seconds. He was stressed, antsy. His shuttle was late. He hated being late. He was always on time, always precise. He sat there, in silence, until the shuttle finally landed. He was done with this, and needed to find the group. He made his way briskly off the landing bay and further into the area. It wasn't long before he found the group. Their bickering was making it easy.

    He approached the party, "I hope I didn't miss anything." His usual grin returned to his worried face. The amount of stress on his shoulders combined with his deep German accent no doubt made him a little difficult to understand. He looked at each in turn, but when his eyes fell to Lars as he slowly left the hanger. "Oh. Won't this be fun?" He chuckled as we watched Lars walk by. A challenge. That's what Lars was to Wolf. A challenge. A wild card that would change how the game was played, and he liked that. His seeming disregard for Lars' past was nothing unusual. Many of the more, as Wolf would put it, "progressive" pilots had a bit of a rough history. He was no doubt confident that if Lars refused to stay in line, that he could put him back in his place.

    He turned to Preston, and took a professional stance, not quite at attention, but showing the man respect, "Wolf Wolters, at your service. Ready and willing to serve Colonel." Wolf had hoped this would be plenty ample as a sign of respect. He was not one to bow his head to another, but he respected superior officers and the weight that their jobs carried.
     
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  19. Death was sitting in front of the shuttle beside the pilot. He turned to his wristwatch and then he realized that he is freaking late. He said to the pilot, "Can you drive faster? I'm so freaking late!" so the driver push the booster button, after 20 minutes the shuttle arrived. He disembarked from the shuttle and hurried to find the group.

    When he found them, all of them was looking at him.
    "is there something wrong with my mask?" he said. He wiped his mask with his gloves and look in the window to see his reflection. While he was checking his mask on the window, Preston called him and asks what is his name and he saluted to the colonel and answered back, "My name is Jeric Death, Skilled Sniper from the SC (Sniper Corps) waiting for your orders sir!"
     
  20. Some newer arrivals to the unit followed in after him. He'd never worked in a group this size, and he doubted that he would be working with everybody upon the battlefield at once. The sniper, and the seemingly Germanic soldier were the ones who caught his eye. The German had an air of professionalism, which he could work with, and the sniper could mark targets for him. He liked the synergy thus far, except having a complete psycho of a superior wasn't an attractive notion. No respect for lives. No empathy. All that Erric saw out of the 'man' was violence and barely checked rage. Erric couldn't help but speak up again, seeming that he hadn't missed anything. "So, why are people here so eager to piss off a murderer?" He turned to the CO, standing briefly at attention. "Furthermore, are we awaiting orders, or will we be briefed for a mission soon, Commander?"
     
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