The airport droned with the steady hum of people going about their business. Lucilia glanced down at her ticket again.
"We have flight number eighteen, and it's leaving at 2 o' clock," She told her brother, Luke, who was standing beside her. He gave her a playful punch on the arm,
"You told me that ten minutes ago! Geez, you'd think I'm deaf," He complained, but his sister just rolled her eyes.
"You know I always repeat myself, Luke. It's the best way to be sure you're understood." She explained, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. Luke just rolled his eyes at her and turned to read an advertisement beside them. The two shared companionable silence, waiting in an impossibly long line to get checked in.
"At least the line is moving consistently," Lucilia pointed out, and Luke nodded his agreement.
The two were on their way up north, to a new job their father had scored for them. Being a war hero himself, he expected his kids to continue the legacy somewhat, and had them leading two groups of mercenaries. Their mother was less than fond of the plan but she was comforted in the idea that a very advanced technology assured that no one would actually die, but would "respawn" in a matter of minutes. But nobody could save them from how a mother could act when her kids were finally going off by themselves.
"You told me it's going to be freezing in Coldfront, did you pack enough warm clothes? Oh let me see... No no no you're not bringing that! Bring this sweater Nanan made you instead, you look absolutely adorable in it! What about a toothbrush? Did you pack enough underwear? Ooh, I can't believe my little babies are finally leaving the nest! Be sure to write everyday, honey!" The two kids had to stand there uncomfortably for what seemed like hours while their mother fussed over them, until a timer went off, announcing to all that the cookies were done. She blushed and gave them one last hug, before hurrying back to the kitchen. They were quick to make their escape after that.
After checking in at the desk some time later, they gave their luggage to the appropriate people and made their way on the plane. It was a company plane, big enough to hold at least twenty people. It was roomy and comfortable, and even though the ride was only a few hours long they offered snacks about halfway through. Luke enthusiastically took a meal's worth of food, while Lucilia politely took a bottled water and a snack bar, thanking the lady that offered them. Luke gulped down the mouthful that he was already stuffing into his face and shot a quick thanks at the lady's back. Lucilia shook her head and grinned as she sipped on her water. After finishing his meal, Luke reached into his bag and pulled out a neat folder. Lucilia guessed what he was doing and followed suit, pulling out a letter sent by her employer.
Dear Lucilia Davranche,
Regarding the position you accepted as manager of the RED mercenary team, we have included a list of tasks you will be required to complete upon your arrival. Due to the uniqueness of your case and the intervention of Cecil Davranche, your responsibilities will differ slightly than those of your competitor, Luke Davranche. We suggest you distance yourself from him as soon as possible, as we do not like frivolous emotions interrupting our work. We have warned the mercenaries that they will be expected to follow direct orders from you, but you will be expected to garner their trust. If you can prove yourself worthy you will eventually be required to lead your team into battle. You will be expected to cook and clean, and after your trial period is over you will be required to book hotels and obtain plane tickets for yourself and your teammates. The mercenaries will brief you and provide a tour of the facilities upon your arrival. You are expected to keep any relationships you may have professional. We will send you further instructions at a later date.
Regards,
The Announcer.
Lucilia glanced up. Luke met her gaze but looked away. Judging by his expression his letter was probably along the same lines. It was going to be hard for them both to be fighting each other seriously, and even harder if their employers wanted them to keep some distance between themselves. She wondered if her father had anything to do with that note. It was entirely possible, and even though she trusted her father it was hard to understand the things he did. Maybe they could still hangout if they kept their relationship "professional". It seemed as if their employer didn't care either way, as long as it didn't interfere with the job put in front of them. Luke and herself had been inseparable since childhood, which would make it all the harder if they were expected to distance themselves. Still, she would have to be careful. She sighed and looked out the window.
The terrain looked familiar, so she guessed they were close to Coldfront. Sure enough, a group of buildings revealed themselves on the horizon, identical to the picture her employer had sent her. A light flashed in front of them, reminding them to put their seat belts on and make sure everything was secure. They did so, and after a few minutes they could feel the plane begin to descend.
A little while later, Lucilia stood in front of nine men, varying emotions playing on their faces. She took a deep breath and braced herself.
"Hello, my name is Lucilia Davranche, and I have been sent here to be your manager," She introduced, holding her hand out to the nearest person, who happened to be a shorter man wearing a hardhat and goggles. He nodded in a friendly manner,
"Well howdy there, you can call me Engineer, or Engie for short." She shook his hand and smiled at him, noticing his Texan accent.
"Very nice to meet you, Engie." She looked at the other men, and while there were a few scrutinizing, judging glares, most of them seemed friendly enough. A man in a balaclava stepped up and offered his hand.
"I am known as ze Spy. A pleasure to meet you, m'lady," He said as he took her extended hand and kissed it. She smiled politely,
"The pleasure is all mine, monsieur." He looked into her eyes as she said that, a glint of humour in his blue gaze. It was nice to know she had someone else in the team that could speak French as well. She looked at the next man, who instantly snapped to attention.
"You may address me as soldier, Captain," He instructed in a very loud voice. She gave him a curt nod, not wanting to offend him by being to personable.
"At ease, soldier," and he did so abruptly. A scrawny man with a headset and dog tags stepped forward, shaking her hand in a nonchalant manner.
"Nice ta meet ya, buttercups. Name's Scout," He introduced, crossing his arms and shifting his weight. She gave him another polite smile and nod,
"Nice to meet you too, Scout," She said.
"Mrrphm!" A man clad in a fireproof suit said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. She couldn't quite catch what he said behind his gas mask but flashed her pearly whites at him.
"Why hello to you too, dear," She said. The next man stepped up.
"He is ze Pyro. He has to wear the suit, otherwise I'd be constantly treating him for burns," He explained with a thick German accent, laughing to himself. He offered his hand. "I am ze Medic. It's very nice to meet you, Fraulein." She shook his offered hand and continued smiling, laughing politely with him. A massive hand appeared in front of hers, and she took it.
"I am Heavy veapons guy. Vhat is leetle girl doing in place like zis?" He asked, gripping her hand more tightly than she expected. She forced herself not to flinch. For all she knew, it could be some kind of test from the giant Russian man.
"I have just as much right to be here as any of you, especially if it's my brother we're up against," She stated clearly and calmly, trying to tell them all in her tone that she would not back down from the challenges they would be inevitably pitting against her. The man took her answer with a nod, releasing her hand. The next man that stepped up was tall and gangly, with a stetson hat and hunting glasses.
"G'day mate, and welcome to the bush. Ye can call me Snipa," She took his hand and smiled at him, trying to guess where he was from. Definitely Oceania somewhere, but she wasn't sure if he was from Australia proper or New Zealand. She made a mental note to make sure before she talked to him about it, in case he was sensitive.
"A very good day indeed, nice to meet you Sniper," The next man had to lean on Sniper's shoulder while he shook her hand, in apparent drunkenness, but she smiled politely. "Howd'you do, lassie? I'm the Demolitions expert 'round these parts. Ye can call me Demo," He introduced with surprisingly clear speech. She shook his hand again, as he had apparently forgotten to let go, though this time he remembered. She smiled even more as she looked around the group. She thought her face would break from so much smiling. The Engineer stepped forward again, motioning to the room behind them.
"I was asked to give you a tour of the place," He explained, turning around to the rest of the group. "Hope y'all don't mind if we excuse arselves, gentlemen,"
He lead Lucilia down a hallway and into a dining room of sorts, with a decent kitchen taking up half the space. "That room back there is the mud room, which is necessary 'round these parts. We come in at the end of a day with so much dirt and blood and sweat it would be insane not to have one. It's also why it isn't the most comfortable, easy to wash up afterwards, ya know?" He clapped and turned around to face the room. "This here is where we all eat. If ya can cook something better than slop stew you're a top o' the line chef 'round these parts," He said, chuckling to himself.
"People say I can make a pretty mean pasta," She said.
"Make? Pasta? That's it lassie, you're staying for good," He said, giving a good natured chuckle, and she laughed with him.
He led her past a massive table and through a door into a hallway. "The showers are right here," He motioned to his right. "They're public showers, but I can install a lock on em' if ya'd like," He offered, giving his perpetual good natured smile. She smiled back at him.
"I'd appreciate that, if you could," She said. He nodded and continued,
"There's a bathroom right here and two at the end of the hall. Down those stairs is an infirmary, a workshop as well as a gym of sorts. That door there leads outside to the shooting range, and there's supply lockers out and to the left. Down this hallway here are all the rooms, yours is all the way down and on your right," He explained, pausing for a breath. "I'll let you get settled in now, just give a holler if you need anything. I'll be down in the workshops for most of the day. Any last questions?" He asked.
"I'm fine for now, thanks so much for the tour," She smiled, watching as he disappeared down the stairs. She walked down the hallway, and noticed that the doors had name plates of everyone's professions, except the last one, which she supposed was hers. Although there was a rather strange rectangular shape in the place of one, so she figured the room must have been a storage room at some point, and labeled so. She tried the handle and found it unlocked, so she stepped inside.
The room was furnished with very standard furniture, a steel frame bed with red sheets, a desk and chair, a dresser, and shelves. She was lucky enough to have a window as well, directly opposite the door. She set her bag on the bed and sat down. She noticed the rest of her luggage was set in front of her dresser. She sighed, flopping down on her back. Today had been a long day, and it was definitely going to take some work to get all nine men to trust and respect her enough to lead them, especially in battle. She wondered what it would take to prove herself to them...