So! If you're interested, you can simply read His Afterlife. It's a One Shot. A One Shot that got really nice reviews and many requests for a sequel or what-have-you! So, I decided to rewrite it given that one person gave me a critique about how the story fell flat about half-way though and needed more substance.

I agreed in the long run... So, I decided to write a redo. I do hope you enjoy it. If not, oh well.

If you have critiques, PLEASE give them to me!? Improving is my ultimate goal.

Thanks.

~Scitah


Promoted. A word that held a stale tasting meaning for John Grimm. A word he'd been told after the incident. Of all the people on the Olduvai Facility, on Mars, on his team, only John and his Sister walked out of there… Perhaps walked is too strong a word for how it really went down, but it was the simplest term.

The family he once had to replace his old family was gone and only Sam was left! And she had a bag of issues that matched his own. The mutations of humans and the abundance of Civilian death haunted his dreams… As he was sure both haunted Sam's as well.

A sigh echoed in John's new… Office of sorts. Recalling that last battle… Sarge didn't deserve what he got. Well, he did, but… Rubbing at his slightly thinner face from a poor appetite and lack of sleep, John knew he might never understand how to evaluate that entire mess of things other than to simply call it the Hell he never wants to return to. Even metaphorically.

His "Brand New" Com Tablet offered a soft 'ting', alerting him to promised Rosters of Recruits to the Rapid Response Tactical Squad from the Officials. For a long moment, all he does is stare at the damn thing before it 'ting's again. Frowning to himself, John picks the Tablet up and wakes it up.

"Sergeant Grimm, John. We have hand picked recruits for you. There are six applicants that we would appreciate you choosing only four or five of. After the Mars Incident, funding is falling short for you. Please do note that your salary will have a percentage cut to cover part of several expenses. Best of luck."

If John hadn't already been frowning… Regardless! He's lived on far less than what he makes now, so a pay cut didn't bother him all too much. With a quick decisive tap, he opened up the file attachment that held each Roster. First up was Johnson, Erik.

Reading through the various notes and statistics, John had to reread part; "Possessing amazing strength and a remarkable gift for shrugging off what would normally be heavy damage, E. Johnson is perhaps one of the finest Soldiers we have ever had in a long time!"

"Interesting." he nodded. Along with the information was a picture showing a stern looking black man who held fairly strong features. This image showed that behind Erik was a painted brick wall with feet and inches on it. The man clocked in at an even 6'4". Despite what the file said about the man, John found himself curious as to why Erik wasn't buffer… He seemed slim for someone who could lift 500 pounds over his head!

That was beside the point, John realized as he moved onto the next; Johnson, Sam. "Another Johnson?" This Johnson was apparently the older brother of Erik and clocked in almost two inches taller and just about thirty pounds heavier with muscle! The image of Sam Johnson's face seemed to show a lighter and happier image than Erik's.

"S. Johnson is a man of Faith but knows his orders. From what I've heard," the Lieutenant General, who penned all the reports, wrote, "S. Johnson is one of the most personable people in the Barracks! Despite this, he's a fair strategically minded Soldier. Though, he happens to be a little slow, physically."

With a small chuckle, John shook his head and moved on to the next; Limpit, Carl. The image, when he got to it, made him pause. He'd never seen someone with orange hair… John has seen Gingers and redheads alike, but this man's hair was orange. Not copper, not orange-ish. Orange.

"C. Limpit is a Soldier of pole-like proportions that make him inadequate for infiltration or stealth… But the man makes up for it with his technical knowledge and abundant hacking capabilities. When I asked why he chose to fight, he simply shrugged and said that the best memories were made in the thick of it. Curious man."

From what John could tell… Carl was clearly an odd duck. Freckles and all.

Next was McComan, Eliza. A woman. Sure, John had known a handful of women who could kill just as well as any man, but they never seemed to stay in the Military and never signed up for this job. But, fair was fair and he would look over her file just like the others.

From what he could read, Eliza was an agile, fast, sharp-shooter. Or, better yet, a Battlefield Assassin. "Never seen someone move so fast in my entire career. E. McComan is a piece of work! At first, she seemed fragile and completely out of place. But then some scrub insulted her for being a woman and she changed so fast, I could have sworn she was someone completely new! The poor fool who had the misfortune of angering E. McComan spent four months in recovery before being dishonorably discharged."

Intriguing… When John looked at the image, he found Eliza to be a rather fetching looking woman with pixie cut dirty blonde hair, brown eyes and sun-kissed freckled skin. She looked artsy and dainty… But his trained eyes could see that hidden muscle and strength… The restrained wrath behind her eyes. To be honest, though… She didn't sound like RRTS material…

Oh well.

Next!

Porter, Jack. The shortest man he'd seen in the files yet, at 6'1". "A gambler, letch, and a cheat, J. Porter is trouble at times. But, sometimes you need someone who can open a locked door quietly with just a paperclip, or someone who can safecrack. For someone in and out of the Penal System, he reached further than any other scab has, so, clearly he has drive."

John debated with himself then. Did he want someone so seemingly disreputable or did he want someone who may or may not be in for penny pound and pint simply because no one insulted her yet? With a small mental shake of his head, John decided he would need to test them first to see who could cut it. No point in judging people based off of opinion and basic statistics.

Moving on, John went to the last Roster; Ross, Victoria. Another woman. It was apparently a time for interesting applications!

Where Eliza came up to 5'8", Victoria came up to almost 5'5". Her musculature was obvious and she had a No Nonsense look about her. "Serious, well balanced, commanding. I will always remember how impressive Victoria Ross is. She seems to lack any doubt and knows the book as if she wrote it. There isn't much more to add." And that was that…

Humming to himself, John put the Tablet down to think. A test was most definitely in order and he found himself looking forwards to the results to come. "Huh." he muttered. In a long string of weeks, he found himself almost optimistic.

John swiftly stood and stepped rather casually towards the door to open it and step out. Glancing back at the office that lacked any personal items, as he preferred, he offered one last sigh before shutting off the light and shutting the door.