Introduction.
They were all sitting, silent, making the scene seem like the first day of school in a school were you wouldn't know anyone, except maybe by sight, except this feeling would be shared by the entire student category. He had been told to come here as part of his new tour, and await further orders upon his task to come. Entered a man in his fatigues, slapping his navy blue beret in his hand. Jorah didn't recognize the insignia it upheld, and his camouflage pattern was definitely not American nor British. A few steps and he looked at the room filled with now attention, eyes following him dutifully. After a second, making sure he had the ears of each and every one, he spoke in a loud and clear voice, with a thick French accent:
- Stand up!
And they rose, all together.
-Garde à vous!
And all fell in attention. His voice was booming through the entire conference room as if it were a mere closet, making his pronunciation clear, loud and powerful. While studying him, Jorah found no rank on his right shoulder, nor on his collar. No tag or badge that would make this man, this soldier, known to be affiliated to any combat group he had encountered. Before Jorah furthered his thinking, a woman entered the room, and studied it from the entrance. Not like a scared animal, more like a teacher that would snap a metallic ruler on your fingers at the first sight of failure. The air stood still for what seemed a lifetime, before she took a step forward.
- Ordonnez repos, she quietly stated in what seemed perfectly well enounced French.
The French man nodded and turned to them.
- At ease!
- Keep standing, she sharply added, eyes on the control panel behind her desk, both hands flat on each side. I won't be long don't you wee-bit worry.
After a few gestures, she snapped her fingers two or three times quickly, muttering a name like "Laurent" and muttering more upon some damned useless junk, making the French soldier rush to her aid. He lowered the ambient light and lit up the projector which flickered a picture. A well-known picture from a HUD video camera, showing an off-road's carcass in flames on the side of a dirt road. Next to it, a large panel citing "Charming, Sanwa County", torn by what looked like burn marks.
- First of all, let me introduce myself and my "second". I am Axle. That is and will be my name until otherwise. To my left, she went on, crossing her arms, standing straight, is "Frenchy".
The picture shifted, showing a more in depth image of the town. A man, wrapped in green strings, livid and dead eyes slipping the orbits was shown.
- Most of you are not fully aware of the position you have been offered to endorse on your new tour. We are not NATO. We are not United Nations or any OGA. By coming here today you will live as international force or leave back to national best. Our mission…
The image changed again, showing a splattered skull and green goo on the wall. The body was thin, like the ones he saw while in Africa a few years back. The skin grayish, with leftovers from a abnormally large head. To almond shaped large eyelids were shut. Next to "it", stood a man in the strangest gear Jorah had ever seen. No camouflage pattern, a top of the line assault shotgun. Like a wealthy mercenary.
- Is not to stop break outs, terrorists or arrest asylum freaks. We are not part of any standalone government and we have no negotiation in any way with our adversary. What is our threat? Well you chaps have surely seen it around the news, geeky news, and conspiracies websites. We are facing a worldwide scale attack from an enemy out of Earth… That's right chaps, Aliens. All those who have no mind to throw in that way are welcome to join their former corps and forget today. To the others…
A smirk showed itself on her serious face, vile grin of her appreciating every word she came up with.
- Welcome to X-COM project…