The 99th Platoon – WWW's Dream: Uniting the Tediz


(A/N Let's see…if any of you are wondering Anthrax is just a guest star. He isn't part of the Platoon but he ran a mean Pub back in the day. Also, just in the event that I don't get Escape From Batula's Castle finished before this one, hold on to your seats – you will learn about The Agency soon enough. This chapter was originally one page long and I had to fluff it up a bit. So to any of the Platoon out there: That last scene I know is completely fictional and put in there only because I can't give in a one page chapter. So two and a bit is more like it.)

Chapter 2: Civil disputes

A green "snooker" light hung over the oak desk. The shades  were half drawn allowing only one beam of light to fall over the face of Conker, King and head of The Agency. Conker lay back in the chair smoking a cigar.

"You know, smoking is bad for your health," commented Sarge.
"If the Tediz don't get me first..." retaliated Conker.
"We'll protect you."
"Right. And blow up everything I do and do not own in the process?"
"Hey the pay ain't that good," laughed Rico. Conker puffed a smoke ring. Sarge respected the moment of silence. It hung like a grey blanket over the room.

"I s'posse you wanna know about our quick little recon we pulled for you"
"If you could, yeah I'd appreciate it."
"40."
"Right. So that means, what, 100-500?"
"Shouldn't be a problem."
"Who said it was?"
"I ain't sayin' nothin'"

"..."

"We can't cover you. This is about you and your boy. Tediz f-"
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"You got a problem with my team, Conker?"
"Hey, I never said any-"

"Listen here pretty boy. You may be King but we can drop you like a hot potato Conker. Don't push it."
"Look, Sarge, relax alright? Your team. Your rules. All I'm saying is-" Conker silenced himself as Sarge gave him the death stare. "Just remember we can't come in after you. The Agency will not take responsibility for this incident, should the stuff hit the fan."
"I understand."

"If you make it through with minimal collateral damage, you get a bigger pay check."
Sarge stood up and had his hand on the door handle when Conker spoke up.

"And you got a new member too."
"Rank?"
"Private."
"Specialty?"
"Avionics."
"Codename?"
"Ricy."

"Okay then" were the Sergeants final words. The door slammed shut. Conker mashed the cigar butt in an ashtray.

"Good luck Sarge..."

The newest recruit to the group was sitting in the middle of the mess room being given a "warm welcome" by some of the gang.
"So Rice…" began Pyst.
"It's Ricy" replied the snowy-white Hawk. Pyst snorted.
"I've always wondered, who the hell thinks up of these so called 'Codenames' ?" Deja commented.

"Beats me," replied Pyst, "but when I find out, I'll call you."
Deja patted her firearm.
Ricy ruffled his wings and then folded them tightly behind his back, giving him a slightly "hunched" look. Chael was the only one not getting involved in the name-game. He understood Ricy's situation. Like himself, Ricy was also an Albino. They shared the same snowy colouring and pink-red eyes.

Birds in general were not a common sight in the army. If you wanted to see any specie of bird you would look towards the air force. A scarcity to find back in the days of WWT all the more new specie were moving into the Windy Kingdom.

Ricy had his arms folded and drummed his fingers on his arm. They were the clawed, scaly texture of any raptor. Slightly different from the standard Squirrel, Ricy's sidearm was easily made out as a custom order.

"So, Snowy…" began Pyst. Chael punched Pyst squarely in the back of the head.
"Shut up Beef-Boy. Your flapping mouth 'll get you into trouble some day."
"Who you calling Beef-Boy?"
"You Brainiacs."
"You wanna piece of me?!"
"How much per pound? Is there a special discount per 10?
"That's it! Outside! N-"

*WHAM*

"I will not tolerate petty squabbling in this unit. Have I made myself clear? All of you better shut up and get serious because this isn't going to be an easy in 'n' out job! So shut your traps before I get some serious discipline training going on ALL of you!"
No one had noticed Sarge's entrance into the room. Twisted and Mon quickly slid the betting odds they had drawn up under the couch.

"This is NOT the girl scouts ladies!" began Sarge he though carefully before adding, "No offence meant Deja."
"Well he started it," contested Pyst.
"Did not!" yelled Chael.
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did too!"
"He absolutely positively did not!"
Chael grinned.

"That was my point exactly. Now we see why I'm the brain and you're the guy with the big guns."
Sarge rubbed his temples.
"I need an aspirin."