W
Wistful Beast
Guest
Original poster
"Sabra Draken. Squad 172."A clear voice called out.
Hearing her name being announced, Sabra committed the squadron number to memory and looked up to see a tall, thin man in formal military attire. He was currently calling out the names of soldiers and where they were being reassigned to. The blandly decorated room she stood in was occupied by dozens of soldiers who awaited their names, wondering anxiously where they'd be placed. Sabra held a duffel bag loosely in one hand, the bag possessing her few belongings. She currently wore informal garb, donning simple black and white camouflage cargo pants, tall combat boots, and a black tank top. Her brown hair was unkempt and done up its usual mohawk fashion.
Sabra began to pick her way through the crowd to leave, having recieved her new squad number. Pushing open a door, she was assualted by the cool air of the hall way. She was currently in the large base facility where a private U.S military cooperation currently resided. The location was confidential, but was somewhere in the Middle East around Turkey to better access enemy troops. Despite the fact that the base was near danger, it was far away enough for them to be in neutral territory. The building provided refuge from the oppressive sun rays. This area was generally close to the Mediterranean Sea, allowing access to water as well as rocky hills covered in sparse grass and vegetation. Outside there was also a sprawling training ground with obstacle courses and shooting ranges.
Sabra passed a few fellow soldiers in the wide corridor, the heels of her boots lightly clicking upon the tile floor underfoot. She headed in the direction of where she believed squadron 172 resided. Soon enough she discovered a wooden door marked with that same number. Under this was the black and white outline of a wolf's head, it's mouth contorted into a fierce snarl. "The Alpha Wolves" was the simple label under the symbol, allowing Sabra to know the sigil of the squadron. She had originally come from the Golden Eyed Hawks, having been one of their sharp shooters. After a year, she had bonded with some of the members, making this transition a tad bit unsavory. Sabra was bound to her duty and would move squadrons if asked, and she had been.
After quietly collecting her thoughts, Sabra opened the door and entered. Being quite observant, the first thing she did was scan the room. She saw a row of bunk beds with simple green covers and thin mats as mattresses, the beds pushed up against a concrete, windowless wall. Above the first of the bunk beds was the same wolf symbol she had seen at the door, making it obvious that a high ranked squadron member slept there. Inside the room were a few young men and women. They wore casual garb and either sat at their bunks and conversed, read, or slept. A few were even drawing and writing letters to family, phones being rather limited as of late.
A few looked up to Sabra when she entered, offering curious stares. One man with a buzz cut and an imposing figure rose from his seat on a bottom bunk and said, "Welcome to the Alpha Wolves, squad 172. That's your bunk there on the top. Here we expect obedience and behavior and not being a total dick. Tell me, what's your name?"
Sabra wasn't the most talkative of people when it came to casual banter, since she was more of a listener, but she still answered. "Sabra Draken, sir."she replied simply, looking up at him with a neutral expression.
"Nice to meet you, Draken. I'm Thomas Bane, or just Bane for short. I run this squad here and suggest you settle in before you meet my crew here."Bane said. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a clear command and Sabra could easily interpret this.
Deciding to avoid trouble, Sabra looked to the wall opposite of the beds and saw a row of lockers where soldiers kept their equipment, clothing, and other belongings. Fishing around for the combination she had been given earlier, she found it in the confines of her pocket and read it mentally. Then she opened up her locker and unpacked her clothing, setting it neatly on the attached shelf. She set two pistols inside along with some ammunition and lose knives. Next came the item that took up the most space in her bag. Sabra pulled out her Baset r93 sniper rifle, causing a few squadron members to whistle to show their admiration. "We got ourselves a sniper here."one commented, receiving additional remarks from others.
Sabra ignored them, finding no reason to confirm the obvious. She locked her sniper away, keeping a book out. In hand was an old fantasy novel that had been well used, some pages dog eared or dotted with light stains. The red binding was nearly falling apart, but otherwise the literature was intact. Sabra shoved her heel onto the rung of the short ladder attached to her assigned bunk, pulling herself onto the top bed. She sat upright, leaning her back against the cold, concrete wall. After a morning of conditioning, she was more than ready to relax for a while. Soldiers still conversed below, some seated in old couch seats that had been placed in one of the empty spots in the room. Sabra ignored their talking, not ready to be social at the moment.
Looking up from her now opened book, Sabra watched as a tall, blonde woman entered next. She was greeted in a similar fashion by Bane and assigned to the bed under Sabra. She realized she hadn't lucked out and received a bunk of her own, now having to share it with another. Sabra still felt slightly fortunate, as she had taken the top bunk. Sabra preferred higher vantage points, making the top bunk more suitable for her.
Hearing her name being announced, Sabra committed the squadron number to memory and looked up to see a tall, thin man in formal military attire. He was currently calling out the names of soldiers and where they were being reassigned to. The blandly decorated room she stood in was occupied by dozens of soldiers who awaited their names, wondering anxiously where they'd be placed. Sabra held a duffel bag loosely in one hand, the bag possessing her few belongings. She currently wore informal garb, donning simple black and white camouflage cargo pants, tall combat boots, and a black tank top. Her brown hair was unkempt and done up its usual mohawk fashion.
Sabra began to pick her way through the crowd to leave, having recieved her new squad number. Pushing open a door, she was assualted by the cool air of the hall way. She was currently in the large base facility where a private U.S military cooperation currently resided. The location was confidential, but was somewhere in the Middle East around Turkey to better access enemy troops. Despite the fact that the base was near danger, it was far away enough for them to be in neutral territory. The building provided refuge from the oppressive sun rays. This area was generally close to the Mediterranean Sea, allowing access to water as well as rocky hills covered in sparse grass and vegetation. Outside there was also a sprawling training ground with obstacle courses and shooting ranges.
Sabra passed a few fellow soldiers in the wide corridor, the heels of her boots lightly clicking upon the tile floor underfoot. She headed in the direction of where she believed squadron 172 resided. Soon enough she discovered a wooden door marked with that same number. Under this was the black and white outline of a wolf's head, it's mouth contorted into a fierce snarl. "The Alpha Wolves" was the simple label under the symbol, allowing Sabra to know the sigil of the squadron. She had originally come from the Golden Eyed Hawks, having been one of their sharp shooters. After a year, she had bonded with some of the members, making this transition a tad bit unsavory. Sabra was bound to her duty and would move squadrons if asked, and she had been.
After quietly collecting her thoughts, Sabra opened the door and entered. Being quite observant, the first thing she did was scan the room. She saw a row of bunk beds with simple green covers and thin mats as mattresses, the beds pushed up against a concrete, windowless wall. Above the first of the bunk beds was the same wolf symbol she had seen at the door, making it obvious that a high ranked squadron member slept there. Inside the room were a few young men and women. They wore casual garb and either sat at their bunks and conversed, read, or slept. A few were even drawing and writing letters to family, phones being rather limited as of late.
A few looked up to Sabra when she entered, offering curious stares. One man with a buzz cut and an imposing figure rose from his seat on a bottom bunk and said, "Welcome to the Alpha Wolves, squad 172. That's your bunk there on the top. Here we expect obedience and behavior and not being a total dick. Tell me, what's your name?"
Sabra wasn't the most talkative of people when it came to casual banter, since she was more of a listener, but she still answered. "Sabra Draken, sir."she replied simply, looking up at him with a neutral expression.
"Nice to meet you, Draken. I'm Thomas Bane, or just Bane for short. I run this squad here and suggest you settle in before you meet my crew here."Bane said. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a clear command and Sabra could easily interpret this.
Deciding to avoid trouble, Sabra looked to the wall opposite of the beds and saw a row of lockers where soldiers kept their equipment, clothing, and other belongings. Fishing around for the combination she had been given earlier, she found it in the confines of her pocket and read it mentally. Then she opened up her locker and unpacked her clothing, setting it neatly on the attached shelf. She set two pistols inside along with some ammunition and lose knives. Next came the item that took up the most space in her bag. Sabra pulled out her Baset r93 sniper rifle, causing a few squadron members to whistle to show their admiration. "We got ourselves a sniper here."one commented, receiving additional remarks from others.
Sabra ignored them, finding no reason to confirm the obvious. She locked her sniper away, keeping a book out. In hand was an old fantasy novel that had been well used, some pages dog eared or dotted with light stains. The red binding was nearly falling apart, but otherwise the literature was intact. Sabra shoved her heel onto the rung of the short ladder attached to her assigned bunk, pulling herself onto the top bed. She sat upright, leaning her back against the cold, concrete wall. After a morning of conditioning, she was more than ready to relax for a while. Soldiers still conversed below, some seated in old couch seats that had been placed in one of the empty spots in the room. Sabra ignored their talking, not ready to be social at the moment.
Looking up from her now opened book, Sabra watched as a tall, blonde woman entered next. She was greeted in a similar fashion by Bane and assigned to the bed under Sabra. She realized she hadn't lucked out and received a bunk of her own, now having to share it with another. Sabra still felt slightly fortunate, as she had taken the top bunk. Sabra preferred higher vantage points, making the top bunk more suitable for her.
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