Disclaimer: I don't own Final fantasy, end of story.
Trinity-33- About that "Find the character look-alike contest." None of the main or major characters are meant to resemble previous FF characters, they only appear in cameos, just to give an example, doesn't the barkeep in chapter 1 have the same description as FF7's Cid Highwind? The Wolfen's aren't based on the Ronsos because they are more "dog" than "cat" (I barely played FFX so could you correct me if I'm wrong as seeing screenshots of Kimhairi(sp?) as a cat like creature). It is interesting to note that Goran is for the most part, inspired by Inuyasha in the field of physical appearance. Think of what would happen if you cut our favorite hanyou's hair up to his neck, gave him red contact lenses, took one of the sleeves off of his haori, cut his fingernails (erm, claws) shaved his fangs down, gave him some shoes, and surgically removed those dog ears. That sums Goran's physical appearance nicely. As for Roan and Emilene, they mostly are original.
P.S. A thanks for advertising I hope the update of your next chapter results in a lot of reviews for the both of us.
Mbgirl: Thanks for the review, I regret to inform you though, that I'm not much of a fan of "Wolf's Rain" but if I find the time, I'll read your story.
Sephiroth1Ripley8: I've already taken your advice before you even told me in chapter 2, but I appreciate the heads-up. And thanks for complimenting my new species, if you like them, then I hope that the Ryu are enjoyable too. There's also a third plot-essential species, but just to name them would spoil a huge chunk of this fic.
Can't think of much else to say, just read on from here people. There's nothing really special in this chapter other than new characters but I promise that the next two chapters will yield some action.
Final Fantasy XIII
Waves broke against the fishing boat S.S. Torch. Brine and salt washed the barnacles that clung harmlessly to the underside of the ship as she crossed the strait of Kenro to the port city of the same name. The ship's skipper, a.k.a. Red, had smuggled our heroes, Goran, Emilene, and Roan out of Port Eric an hour earlier, and now Goran sat in the cabin as the last unseen bit of the sun found it's way over the eastern horizon with the skipper all too busy steering. As the City of Kenro grew in the window, so did the rock in Goran's throat.
"What the hell am I doing in a war zone?" He asked under his breath.
"Didn't the Mayor or something bribe you kid?" The skipper replied unnecessarily.
"I'm just having second thoughts. Even first time soldiers have them, and I wasn't even trained in any branch of any country's military!" He whined.
"Ahh, money ought to change yer mind lad, just concentrate on the mission instead of it though, or you won't like what will happen when you slip up." Advised the red-bearded captain.
No one continued the conversation as the vessel pulled up to the lengthy wooden pier in front of the Desert City. The only green of vegetation came from algae by the sea wall, with a few coastal palm trees on the beaches. Large Mexican style villa's lined the coast and the streets throughout the town, none more than two stories in height, not even Government buildings. The Port was empty for the most part, except for some patrol boats and submarines. The local Naval force was only 60 ships strong, only 15 of which were Heavy cruisers, the fleet had no ships of "Battleship" or "Aircraft Carriers." And thus Kenro was lucky to be in the good condition as most of its Navy was well out to sea on patrols.
Red put a lasso on one of the support beams of the Pier and anchored the boat to the harbor. The heroes jumped onto the deck, surprisingly, Red followed them.
"You're coming with us?" Roan queried.
"No, I just need some drinks. My role here is finished." He walked off the pier to dry land.
"THE SUBS SCARED ALL THE FREAKIN' BASS AWAY!" An angry voice startled the group.
'That sure was easy.' Goran mused as he looked in the direction of the voice. Wouldn't you know it, a fat fisherman, somewhere around 40 years old, was sitting on the edge of the pier, fishing pole in hand. He seemed awfully out of place as a fisherman as he wore tan hiking gear and donned a matching tan cowboy hat with the southern accent to fit with it all. He also wore a red bandana around his neck with small white polka dots in the design.
Goran only took 2 full seconds to process this information before he remembered his answer: "...But the Mackerel are still around." He added.
There was a pause, did he forget the right password?
His fears were lifted when the man put away his fishing pole and got to his feet to see his contacts.
"You here alone?" He questioned.
"Just the three of us. The skipper you saw brought us here, but I don't think he's coming back." Goran answered.
"...Are y'all here for the Black Cactuars?" The man asked.
"We would like to speak to 2nd lieutenant Scipio." Goran answered again.
The man walked up to Goran, whom he correctly surmised was the leader of the trio. He leaned to his ear and whispered something.
"...Meet me at the city gates south of here. I'll escort you to Camp Chocobo from there..." He whispered into the swordsman's ear before leaving the pier. But this conversation was too "short and sweet" for Goran, was that all the man felt he needed to know?
"Hey wait, is that all? I was expecting more answers than that, seriously, come back!" He shouted after the man.
"South gate, as soon as you can. That's all we can say here!" He yelled back without even batting his eye to Goran. He soon walked up onto the dock and past the seaside stores and cafes, out of sight.
"Well, people around here sure aren't very talkative." Emilene commented.
"Didn't seem like that at Port Eric either." Roan added.
"Well, less talking means more time to kill, come on, there's an item shop right at the end of the pier, the count gave us a 2,000 Gil advance, so let's get some supplies." Goran commanded.
"A 2,000 Gil advance, why didn't you tell us until now?" Roan yelled.
"I didn't think it was that important."
"Hey, I didn't have breakfast in Port Eric and I don't want to wait to chew up Army rations, we have to find a restaurant first!" Roan complained.
"Wait!" Emilene exclaimed as she stepped between the duo.
"What is it Emilene?" Roan didn't like this interruption but it was better to hear her out than to argue it.
"Goran's right, if we're going out into the desert, we need some supplies, we only have 4 potions between us so I recommend at least 5 more." She said adding her two cents.
"That's right." Goran commented while siding with his sister. "And there are lots of poisonous creatures in the desert, so we need to get some antidotes as well."
"That still doesn't cover the food problem!" Roan complained.
"If we have enough money left over, we'll check out what we have to eat at the local inn." He added. "Our current cash supply is about 2,560 Gil, and considering the economy in this town, everything is probably dirt cheap. We'll have plenty left over for breakfast."
"Then in that case." Roan took a deep breath. "I think we have a compromise." Admitted the raven-haired teen.
"Let's eat first though, My stomach is starting to agree with Roan." Emilene grabbed her stomach as a weak rumbling emanated from it.
One sweatdrop later and they were on their way to the inn.
(A/N: I don't see much a reason to put anything in here about what they do in town, so we'll just fast-forward to 30 minutes later.)
A brief trip to the item shop yielded 5 potions and 3 antidotes for the journey ahead, the city gates were just down the road and wouldn't you know it! The Cowboy type at the dock was right there with a pair of tan chocobos with no qualms about the heat or facing the real possibility of passengers. Apparently the cowboy had remembered their faces and knew to give the following courtesy.
"Step right up folks, Charlie and Grace won't bite as long as you don't wave yer hands in front of their beaks." He said not waiting for his customers to make the first comment. "The little lady rides with me, you two can get on Grace."
The three part-time bounty hunters took a look at each other and nodded, not wanting to waste anymore time talking before they reached Camp Chocobo. No sooner had they gotten a firm grip on a Chocobo saddle before the Cowboy shouted "Gidyap!" The only response before the impending sprint was a loud "Warrk!" that vibrated from the thick, muscular throat of the flightless birds and out of their beaks. With those cries, the two birds launched forward and into the desert.
"Halt!" Came the throaty yell of a buff looking man more than ten miles down the dirt road. His black skin was stretched to the tearing point with muscle held together by steel tendons. He wore an unusually small, unbuttoned, sleeveless shirt that was as brown as the crusty sand around him. He had a black flat top haircut with a fuzzy but well cut beard, and he seemed very, VERY irritated. He had been standing on this exact same patch of dirt for 10 hours straight with no one to relieve him of his duty in sight. He stood before a wooden gate lined with barbed wire and stood in the small guard post where one could open it just on the inside of the camp. The compound itself was surrounded by 400 feet of barbed wire and two rows of 6 foot wide, 8 foot deep trenches and a 14 foot tall, 4 foot thick brown concrete wall.
The man, whose rank was unknown as he was out of uniform, saluted the Fat man on Chocobo-back as he arrived with three civilians.
"Corporal Tex!" The soldier shouted.
"These are the bounty hunters, Goran and Emilene Jovanivic and Roan Polyneices to see 2nd Lieutenant Scipio. I order you to let us in Private!" 'Corporal Tex' seemed to know the man despite his lack of military attire brought on by the desert heat.
"Aye Corporal. Opening the gate." He pushed a small button on the control panel inside, causing the seemingly manually operated door to open. The barbed wire gates slid in between the concrete and the metal lining seemed to blend into the wall itself. Entry was granted.
The man now known as "Tex" turned around to speak to his three passengers.
"Now people, there's gonna be a bunch of folks that don't take too kindly to yer civilian types around here. Stay close to me until we get on into the command bunker at the center." He cautioned as he motioned his Chocobos to move through the open gate.
The sights to see were what were to be expected of your typical boot camp. White tents to lessen heat insulation and reduce visibility during the event of and air raid, men doing the most invigorating exercises directly under the 95 degree sun, and the drill sergeants to verbally abuse them until the minute they were done. Other Soldiers were shooting at cardboard posters and crude effigies with paintballs to prepare their aim(though not their emotion) for when they would have to fire on real men that would surely attack their base without second thoughts.
Of course, in only thirty seconds of entering the fort, the slope leading to the air-conditioned underground bunker's armored door was clearly visible. The threesome and their escort dismounted their Chocobos and went toward the double-door, this one manned by an older looking man in the brown uniform of the rank "Master Sergeant." He had one of those white, Snidely whiplash-like moustaches and a pair of thin glasses with one of those removable sunglass lenses. Unlike his Cowboy subordinate, he wore some sort of plain-brown safari helmet and a bright blue bandana around his neck.
"Halt, Corporal Tex, state your reason for your need to speak with HQ command!" The Sergeant spoke in one of those annoying English accents that rich people use. He unshouldered his G-55 rifle, which had a disk shaped ammunition magazine and long streamlined body with a long, arch-shaped sight.
(A/N: think of what the FAMAS assault rifle from Metal Gear Solid would look like with one of those ammo cans that gangster era Tommy-guns used on the bottom-back of the rifle, um, yeah)
Tex didn't answer the Sergeant then, he saluted first. "Sarge, these are the three civilians that Lieutenant Scipio was radioed about this morning. Permission to let them in." He announced to his superior.
The guard eyed Goran, Roan, and Emilene carefully, taking up to a full 30 seconds to clarify they matched the photographs that Count Foley had told his unit to memorize for the next few hours. After the examination, he looked back at Tex.
"Permission granted, the Commander's status report probably hasn't started yet, so you can talk to him and the Lieutenant now. You will escort them inside Corporal, and you're not to leave them until someone inside has dismissed you, or until their negotiations are finished."
Tex saluted again. "Yes sir, Sergeant Nigel."
He broke his salute and turned back to our trio.
"You're in, make it snappy, unless it's a life-or-death situation, the el-tee has a short attention span." Tex cautioned.
"He'd better not, I never realized how boooooring it is to not talk for almost an hour, even on a chocobo-back ride!" Emilene announced.
"Now, now m'lady, no complaining in the army goes for tourists to!" The English Sergeant warned.
Emilene didn't care, she just followed Tex, Roan, and Goran into the bunker.
Inside the bunker, over 50 officer ranked men of the Kenrovian Honor Guard, the Elite sub-branch of the city-state's Army, bickered inside the concrete walls of the bunker's war room. Haphazardly placed maps and memos laid out not only on the walls, but right on the line of fold-up tables going from one end of the room to the next. "So far, while our radar has been able to track some of the Disruptor shells, the fact that they are made of pure energy allows awkward deflections of the radar signals, thus they are otherwise invisible up until the last moment before impact." Summarized Major Lee as he concluded the summary of his Regiment's status."That's obviously bad news soldier, if we can't even find out how to track those Disrupter shells, then we'll never find the cannon no matter how many railroad tracks we search." His superior: Lieutenant Colonel Sopol, the Commander of the 13th Battalion answered.
Goran, Roan, and Emilene entered to room, having not heard the conversation earlier.
"We're here to speak with Lieutenant Scipio sirs." Roan unknowingly interrupted.
The Officers turned their silent attention to Roan, not the others, just Roan, whom felt every eyeball settling on his face. And that's a whole Battalion's worth of officers: A Lieutenant Colonel, two Majors, four Captains, and more than a dozen Lieutenants.
"...Er...We didn't get you at a bad time did we?" He said scratching the back of his head.
"Now hold on here a minute folks!" Someone in the crowd broke the silence.
Everyone directed their attention to the end table opposite the Colonel, where a normally built 33 year-old black man with a small Afro and a dark purple long-sleeve jacket with many military related symbols and the logos of famous units on the sleeves sat. One of these symbols was a green armband with a white circle on it, in the circle was an image of a black Cactuar with thick numerous thorns.
"Are these your 'temps' Lieutenant?" The Colonel called from the opposite end of the table.
"Oh they's wit' me alright! They're probably the people the mayor of Aleuma sent for that private mission for my squad!" The young Lieutenant told his superior. "Aren't you?" He added talking directly to Goran.
"Goran, and Emilene Jovanivic, and Roan Polyneices from Aleuma, sir!" Goran said throwing in a last minute salute. "I would assume you're Lieutenant Scipio?"
"You don't have to call me that man, you're a civie, just call me Cid!" He corrected.
"Did Count Foley brief you on the assignment sir...Cid?" Emilene asked.
He shook his head. "Unfortunately, I had to wait for the Colonel to get it for me, I was still reading it when this Staff meeting started." Said Cid. "But from what I've read, I don't want any part in it. Not that I have a choice... I mean...Infiltrate Muspell?"
Roan turned at the sound of the multiple murmurs that went on among the officers. Apparently Cid's statement didn't sit too well with them, everyone except the Colonel seated at the far end of the table.
"Settle down men, we have to..." he noticed no one was paying attention. "I SAID SETTLE DOWN!"
Silence echoed through the room.
"Mr. Jovanivic, if you had come a few hours earlier, I may have still agreed with Count Foley's mission..." The Colonel started. "But then I didn't realize how short on manpower we are. We have been discussing for how three weeks, Muspell has been showing us up with a new super weapon. While we know it's railbound, we don't know where it is, or what it looks like. Scouts have gone MIA looking for it, and those that came back said that when they caught up with the train we found it on, it just disappeared. It could take weeks with our own manpower to search the Savannah, and we don't have that much time to look for the so called Phantom Train!" He reiterated the meeting that should have still been happening.
"This new energy based weapon has been shelling our side of the front north of the Niobe Delta. The casualties and vehicle toll has still yet to finish counting..." he continued. "If we don't stop them, then they could cross in as little as a week, they wouldn't have to attack this camp... They could just flank it and waltz through Kenro...And that would be the end of that." He finished his last few sentences somberly.
"So now you see why your mission has been cancelled." He finished.
Roan's eye twitched. "Again...But, we just got here...25,000 Gil and a woman's life lost before we could start our job."
"You think that's costly? Think about the tens of thousands of lives that will go to waste once the Muspell Imperial Guard practically rapes Kenro next week. We need every man we have here right now!" He blew at Roan's dismay.
"Now wait just a High-flyin' second Colonel Sopol!" Cid exclaimed as he jumped from his seat only to freeze in place for realizing he forgot something.
"I mean...Permission to speak freely sir!" He requested, as he stood upright with a salute.
'What the hell...' Sopol thought. "Permission granted!"
"What if I told you that the whole concept of this mission didn't need a full scale operation... We'd just need a fire team?"
Colonel Sopol looked at Cid strangely.
"What are you suggesting Lieutenant Scipio?" He queried.
"My unit has been on a suicide mission before." Cid reminded the Officer. "Every objective was accomplished, and all five of my men were alive and accounted for when I last checked the debriefing. So I recommend that I take my men-that's five out of eight-hundred men and woman in this Batallion-plus these 3 folks from the great-white-north, and a few fireworks from the armory, and we can end these shellings in three days...And that's just worst case scenario sir!" The lieutenant described.
"Lieutenant, I already told you that it will take all our manpower to find that railgun, let alone blow it up! How can you condone only taking nine people, including yourself and three untrained civilians into hostile territory that's kilometers wide?" The El-Cee objected.
"Despite all the action we've been seeing for the last couple years, I'm surprised you've forgotten about the process of reconaissance." The Lieutenant informed. "There are plenty of Muspell bases and occupied towns near the railroads where these attacks start. I've got the feeling that a few infiltrations, maybe just one, will tell us where them weapon's kept, and then we just have to walk right on to it and pop it right off the tracks for good. Know what-I'm-sayin' Sir?" He explained
"He's right sir." Major Lee suggested to his superior. "Nine people isn't that much based on our last headcount from a week ago. Our lives are riding on The Niobe line and they can't hold out anymore. Their numbers might be down to squad size by the time those two armor and mechanized divisions can finally waltz across the delta and in to Kenro."
"Wait a second!" Goran finally spoke again while interrupting the staff meeting.
"Shouldn't we have say in this? I mean, you kind of assume we want to go on a suicide mission when we just want to rescue someone and get off this continent."
"Yeah, I didn't come here to nuke some cannon that we don't know where it is, I came here for a chance to make money!" Roan added to his argument.
The Colonel's mood hadn't faded, now it was Goran's turn to face his wrath.
"There's something we have here called a code of conduct civie!" He gruffly pointed a pen at the sword fighter. "One of the rules of this code is don't speak unless spoken to. If you haven't heard of it, then you don't belong in this fort!"
"Well you just spoke to him now, so I guess he can talk back!" Emilene said throwing her wits at the Lieutenant Colonel.
"Listen, I didn't sign any contracts with Count Foley, especially not one about participating in a search and destroy operation!" Protested the near adult.
"That's not what Foley told me when I got that transmission 12 hours ago." The Base Commander corrected the temporary mercenary. "He promised that on your way to Muspell, you're to help the Kenrovian Army any which way you can when given the opportunity. That means no questions when I send you out into the field, meaning all three of you are honorary Privates in the Kenrovian Army until you get Linda Stiftarr out of Muspell, providing the Devereaux syndicate hasn't taken retaliation on her for your actions back home." Sopol countered.
"Honorary Privates?" If Goran had any pleasure from hearing that title, then he was doing a good job covering up the way he felt with a perfect scowl.
Sopol turned his attention back to Cid.
"Lieutenant, your mission has been approved, gather your unit together and take what you need from the armory."
Cid stood out of his chair to salute his superior "Sir, Yes sir!"
"BUT..." There was always a "but" with the veteran. "Should you fail to complete your objective by next week... Don't you or your men dare bother to come back!" He threatened.
Now the trio was truly unwilling to face the mission ahead. Now, Not only could they be allowed to turn back, now they were being thrust into the biggest conflict in the world since the Thousand Years War mentioned in lurid detail in the ancient scriptures. Cid however, did not lose his composure under the Colonel's promise.
"That motivation will not be necessary sir!" He said as though the Colonel said nothing else.
"For your sake I hope not." Colonel Sopol said, seemingly insulted by his subordinate's lack of fear of him. "You and your 'recruits' are dismissed for immediate armament and departure."
"Thank you sir."
(A/N: AUGH! TOO MANY "SIRS!")
In the middle of the Western Wall of Camp Chocobo was a brown and white camouflaged concrete bunker that like the command center, went at least three meters underground before the actual room was accessible. Goran, Emilene, Roan, and Cid were lined up inside with five other people clad in desert warfare gear similar to the English African Safari hunters of the early 20th century. They had their backs to a rack lined with G-55 machine guns, the standard rifle of just about every military except that of Muspell and Leonida. After all, the bunker was the main armory of the Fort. There was only one Battalion at the camp, but the hollow warehouse was piled up with cardboard and steel boxes tasked with protecting the sensitive rifles, pistols, magazines, and grenades inside to supply an entire Brigade. Each designated "Hallway" was actually the result of neatly organized stacks of these boxes with half-empty gun racks placed between every two metal support beams, for their were no separate rooms inside the compound.
"Ten-shun!" Cid commanded to his mercenaries.
The five men in the room raised their shoulders, sucked in their guts, and aligned their necks and heads as straight as their bodies were meant to be. There was a silence for five seconds.
"At ease brothas'." He said in a surprisingly unprofessional manner.
The five men slouched a little in relief.
"Black Cactuars, today, we have three new recruits who are to follow us on an assignment, which will mean the difference between life, or death for the folks who give us our paycheck back in Kenro." The Lieutenant began. "We can equip them all we want, but if they are to be an honorary fighter in our organization, we must know us, and we have to be friends wit' them likewise." He looked at the threesome. "Tell us about yourself newbies."
Goran noticed that Cid had his hand in a fist with his thumb pointed straight out at him. It was safe to surmise he was gesturing the white-haired boy to go first. So Goran saw it fit that he would step forward to name himself.
"I'm Goran, rugged mountain man, and top-notch sword fighter. I've been able to best people with guns for five years." It was a cheesy introduction, but at least it was short, all he had to do was let Roan, and Emilene do theirs.
"Roan Polyneices, I've been using chain-guns since I was 12 years old, my father put me through a military school..." He trailed off for a second reflecting on his younger years, but shook his head and continued. "...If you need some light artillery you can count on me when you can't count on your own men Lieutenant!" He finished with a salute.
'My turn!' Emilene thought with enthusiasm.
"I'm Emilene Jovanivic, Goran's sister, and..." She realized she hadn't thought what to say about herself.
"...and..." She stuttered, something just entered her head. She might as well use it, because she may have taken too long already.
"...and..." She burst into tears "...and I'm an alcoholic!"
There was a distinct thud as her two companions mysteriously fell over.
Cid walked to the two males with a stupid grin on his face.
"Huh, you guys will fit right in with the Black Cactuars! I can see you begging to be in our corps right now." He ended with a chuckle.
"I don't believe my first introduction was formal." The slim black man pointed out. "I'm 2nd Lieutenant Cid Scipio, but again, since your still technically civies, you get the privilege to call me 'Cid', 'specially you little lady." He directed the last part to Emilene.
"Cid" then turned to his comrades.
"Step up one at a time boys, go from left to right, step up and say somethin' 'bout yourselves, you have 10 seconds each."
The first two commandos were familiar faces. The first man in fact, happened to be the thin-moustached Englishman in front of the command bunker. He stepped forward immediately after Cid finished his sentence.
"Master Sergeant Nigel Tunney." He began. "My marksmanship has earned me the right to be Cid's right-hand man. After all, do you know anyone who can shoot a grape off a Chocobo's head from 200 meters...without a scope?" He smiled. "I think you'll grow to like me in no time..."
"Next!" Cid rudely shouted over his second-in-command. Not that it was completely rude since he had just completed his intro anyway.
The familiar cowboy "Tex" seemed to burst forward considering his deceivingly girthy appearance.
"Corporal Tex at your service kids." The cowboy wannabe bellowed. "If you can make it, I can blow it up with only a Roman candle!" In an unnecessary but image enhancing act, he unholstered and spun a pair of Colt S.A.A.'s Revolver Ocelot style, creating a speedy blur of .357 caliber might before reholstering the instruments of duel. "I also make the finest pancakes on the continent!"
There was a pause before Cid gave out the next "Next!" So it went to prove that even for a seemingly loose guy, he respected the institution of the military by doing the most anal things to keep order.
If Tex was big, the 41 year-old brute overshadowed them all at 6-foot 10 inches. The shape of his torso however, made it next to impossible to determine if the man's frame got its size from muscle... Or fat; the common build of a football player. He had a fuzzy, short, gray, beard so rough it could probably lacerate a Tonberry's skin.
"Private First Class Steele." The beefy guy in a normal sounding tone of voice. "Stay the hell out of my way when shit hit's the fan in the combat zone, because I don't give a flying Fck that you're between my five-five-sixer and my target." He paused, thinking of something else. "Don't tell the Colonel I said that or you'll die on purpose out there."
"...Next!" Cid hailed.
A large 30 year-old, small in relation to Tex and Steele stepped into the limelight. Like Steele, his size seemed to come from a unique combination of Muscle and fat. He had a black beard going in a sort of ring around his chin and the edge of his cheek bones as well as messy, heavily unkempt black hair going on the side of his head. However he was wearing a tan cap over it to conceal that he was bald on the top.
"My name is Private Rickles, and I will be your carjacker for this week. Enemy security also happens to disagree with me, so ask for my help if you want to argue with it."
"Next!"
The last of the six Cactuars took his single step forward. He was small 28 year-old man with a pencil-thin, seemingly drawn on moustache, and stood at a meager 5-foot 8 inches, and didn't carry much gear other than a safari helmet and the shirt on his back. He had a red handkerchief bandana tied around his neck and at his sides was a dual holster for a pair of .50 caliber handguns, each having a handle adorned with the unit's mascot. He also wore brown, knee-length leather boots.
"I'm Private Yates, I'm the Cactuars' scout, so you need not worry taking point, because that's my preassigned duty." It seems he hadn't thought of much an introduction for himself so he nodded to his commander to finish.
"Well, I guess now we all know each other." Cid said in acknowledgement of Yates' gesture.
"Men...and you." He said taking a second to acknowledge Emilene. "We's workin' on a schedule tighter than the noose around a fat man's neck, I think the Colonel Sopol's report sums that up pretty nicely." He said losing his soldierly formality. "This isn't like Thebes, that was a milk-run compared to what we're up against."
"With all due respect Lieutenant, what does blowing up the 'Phantom train' entail that earns this mission the 'suicide' label?" Nigel immediately inquired.
"Because that's only half the job Nigel." Cid answered. "Once the cannon is gone, we's got another mission given to us by the Count of Aleuma for fifteen-thou'" The mercenary continued. "We's going on a POW rescue... right in the heart of Muspell herself!"
A murmur could be heard growing into brisk chitchat. Discontented chitchat nonetheless. A high-pitched crazed chuckle could also be heard coming from Rickles' direction as well.
"15,000...As in Gil?" Emilene pondered the young lieutenant's statement.
"Well of course, we're mercs, we don't do something until someone casts a fishin' line wit' cash on it into our lake."
"You want us to go into the valley in the shadow of death? I thought you told us there was a difference between being brave and being stupid Scipio!" Steele pointed a pudgy finger at the annoyed El-Tee.
"You secure that shit Steele, and you wonder why you fell from Sergeant Major!" He said pointing a more professional finger at his hulking subordinate. "That means you squirts too!"
The murmur died, but not immediately.
"We may have heard some funky crap about the POW camps, the random police searches, the mid-street executions, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't act professional while we're in that death trap." Cid sternly eyed his comrades-in-arms.
"The count's 'pendin' on us to get her niece back from the Devereaux family, who I'm told has been buddy-buddy with the Old-man Katarno since his military career. If we's lucky, we may get to meet one of them and bust a cap up their ass!" Cid said with an accent on "ass."
Another murmur echoed through the armory.
"We's men...Are going to bust some heads in Muspell, and when we do, Alma Katarno's gonna know that he ain't invincible no more!"
End Chapter 3...
And that's the end of "The boring chapter." Now give me some input and I'll be moving on to the more action-packed next chapter in due time!
"Here's a cultural opportunity for you, this place is the birthplace of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam."- Anna Grimsdottir: Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell.
"So this is where all that peace and love came from."-Sam Fisher: Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell.