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Edited by Ex PI:
11/30/2015 10:02:27 PM
36
[b][u]Resurgence Part II: Black Watch.[/u][/b]
[b]Greenspear Staging Base FLANDERS FIELDS (Formerly GREEN ZONE), The Golden City, Terra, 0600H.[/b]
The flight of Colossus helicopters touched down in the middle of the DMZ, just outside the edge of the fence line. A group of black-uniformed Greenspear soldiers, with arms inverted, begin to unload dozens of coffins. Each is draped with a black Greenspear flag, as well as the flag of the fallen operator's home nation. The funeral procession begins in complete silence, with each coffin being laid in the ground without ceremony or fanfare.
[spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]
English
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Edited by Trejo444: 12/1/2015 9:37:02 PM[spoiler]Nothing here but Wasted -blam!-ing effort[/spoiler]
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Edited by Spyglass: 12/1/2015 12:21:51 AMGinger looked around cautiously, though not without respect. He had been authorized to enter Greenspear lines as a potential asset, but his cautiousness did not stem from mistrust nor any personal malcontent. Between the hostile incursions and the radioactive spawn, Greenspear forces had taken some heavy hits in a very small span of time, and who knew if there was hostile surveillance? Quickly though, he pushed such theories out of his mind; now was a time of mourning and respect. He stayed in the back of the crowd, both being merely a guest and towering over the humans that surrounded him, but few paid him much heed. When they saluted, he saluted, and this small gesture rested his nerves a little. Regardless, he doubted that he had been invited merely to participate in funeral processions...
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[spoiler]Venom's never pushed into their land.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]With all the stuff going on rn, I can't even. [/spoiler]
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The Greenspear soldiers finish burying their dead, then fall into step next to the graves, as if they are passing in review. The spaces that are left seem to represent the fallen, except for one. One of the soldiers gestures for Ginger to fill it.
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Ginger obliged wordlessly, his feet barely making a sound upon the stone floor. He wears casual clothing; a murky aquamarine shirt with dark pants and light grey combat boots. At first glance he looks like a civilian, albeit a rather tall one, but there's a look in his eyes that radiant danger. This was surely not a man to be trifled with.
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The soldier next to him leans over and speaks quietly. [i]Hey, we've got a man who couldn't make it today. When his name is called, you step forward for him, alright?[/i] He hands Ginger a slip of paper with the name "Eric Zann" on it; the name of the soldier who'd greeted the mercenary when he'd first arrived at the DMZ. As each soldier's name is called, they step forward and respond. Each time an absent man is spoken for, a cast iron spear with a jade point is driven into one of the empty spaces in the line. Soon, the name of the soldier on the paper is called.
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Ginger steps forward and replies. He manipulates his vocal cords to perfectly imitate the man from what he had heard him speak, hoping that it would make the roll call slightly less suspicious. It was a horrible disguise; if someone had known the man, then they'd have no trouble distinguishing him from Ginger, but hopefully it was passable.
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Edited by Ex PI: 11/30/2015 11:42:11 PMAs he steps back, a spear is driven into the ground beside him, with Zann's name etched into it. A sudden realization hits Ginger. All the "missing men" were never coming back. They were lying in the dirt on either side of him. A 21-gun salute rolled over the battlefield.
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Ginger sits back next to the soldier after the last echoes of the salute fade away, slightly disheartened by the death of the man who had greeted him. Sentimentality had no place in a soldier's heart, but Ginger couldn't help but sympathize with these mercenaries. He had been in their shoes far too many times.
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As the ceremony ends, a soldier in a green officer's beret jogs over to where Ginger is sitting. [i]You looking for employment? We lost a lot of men.[/i]
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Ginger turns towards the man, giving him a neutral look, his face unreadable, "Employment? Perhaps. I'd be willing to discuss terms, should that be possible, but I make no promises as of yet."
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[i]That's fine. I am warning you, however, that the last man we hired from these parts tried to betray us and bring in a bunch of his friends. So we kicked him out the backside of a helicopter with his hands tied behind his back. We're hurting right now, and the last thing we need is liars and cheaters.[/i]
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"I assure you that I am neither a liar not a cheater, and that I most definitely have no friends." He gets up and offers his hand to shake, an obvious sign of consent, "It's not in the job description, after all."
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[i]Good to hear. Welcome to Greenspear.[/i] He gestures to a nearby helicopter. [i]Sorry about sticking you in the cold with the Black Watch. It's tradition.[/i]
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Edited by Spyglass: 12/1/2015 12:47:03 AMGinger nods in acknowledgement and heads towards the chopper. On the way there he hesitates, and suddenly a blue wave of particles washes up his body. The civilian clothes he adorns are seamlessly replaced by a matte-black combat skin, which is then placed beneath a suit of ceramic plates. It resembles a small exo-suit more than power armor, with durable ceramic plates coexisting with large patches of the black combat skin for mobility, the entire outfit resembling a lightweight mix between a skeleton and legionnaire mail. A mysterious, three-dimensional insignia resting on his breastplate fades into oblivion, replaced with the Greenspear logo. He boards the chopper, and awaits further orders, yelling back at the last second. "Sounds fun."
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The officer hops on and shuts the chopper's door as it heads out to sea. [i]It's an old custom. We lost 35 men in the Bosnian Wars, back when our company was standing guard for UN aid missions. The survivors called roll for their dead, and ever since, we've done the same.[/i]
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Ginger nods in understanding, but not from personal experience. "Sounds... More honorable, then what I've been accustomed to. Where (for a second, he thinks about saying when, but decides against it) I'm from, we burned the dead under plasma, and left their bones as hallowed glass. No funeral, no ceremony, only a speech and the flames."
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[i]That sounds like an interesting tradition. After all, the dead require dignity.[/i] The helicopter touches down on a large helipad, which sits a few stories above a massive jungle canopy. In the distance is a massive, extinct volcano. The soldiers disembark, and descend via an elevator to ground level, then further underground. [i]This is Sherwood Base; our home here on Terra. If you want, you can get an independent barracks here, or you can keep whatever accommodations you have at present. We've got plenty of food, medical facilities, training areas, and the like.[/i]
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Edited by Spyglass: 12/1/2015 1:28:56 AMGinger takes in the sights, admiring the scenery and surrounding flora. The position appeared defendable, and the actual base protected enough. Despite his personal desires, he chooses his words carefully in order to not overstep his boundaries. He was a gun for hire, not a fellow soldier. "If it's all the same you you, I would prefer a private barracks on location. Is there anyone else that I should report to before I move in?"
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[i]Nope, it's all good. You'll be in L-26. It's thataway.[/i] He points down a hallway before handing Ginger a small, smartphone-like device. [i]This thing's got the coordinates to your barracks, and any missions you get assigned to. Good luck![/i]
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[spoiler]Sorry. Replied earlier but it didn't send[/spoiler] Ginger takes the small device, nods towards the man, and then proceeds to his room, where he promptly closed his eyes for a brief moment of rest. (End? We can pick up on a mission later, if you'd like)
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[spoiler]End for now, but only because I'm dealing with some very sensitive negotiations ATM.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]In RP?[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Yep. Somebody wants me to take the fight to Venom. It's weird, because people always ask me to do that, ever since I started on these forums. I'm not really sure what to do.[/spoiler]
