Post by Erek Blackmore on Aug 13, 2017 13:22:34 GMT -5
It was two-thousand eleven-- how long had Erek been here? It was hard for him to tell, honestly, the years sort of blended together. Today was a bit different from the usual daily grind, however, standing over the table that had a layout of the surrounding buildings, his troops, and specifically the orders that had been plopped on top of his table. A company was being sent by the Army, and they weren't to initiate their final attack until they arrived-- Erek snorted as he let several embers fall from his cigar-- so he was effectively being told that even though he had the troops, and the firepower-- he had to let their soldiers take the credit and not his.
Well, whatever-- that was the downside of joining Oroborous instead of remaining in the Marines. Sighing out a small cloud of smoke as he would glance at his watch-- the orders said the Major and his troops would be here by sixteen-hundred. That gave them twenty minutes, five to ten-- if the Major in charge actually had any fucking idea what he was doing. Hauling himself up to stand straight, he felt his back pop several times, muttering about "getting too old for this shit" as he started toward the exit of the building they were using for their temporary field HQ.
Walking out he grunted, falling against the wall as he waited-- his right hand, well, current right hand-- the last one was dead as of three days ago. Stepped forward, "Orders, sir?"
Erek simply glanced at him, before he would let out a brief sigh. "Till the fuckers get here we don't have much to do. Maintain current positions and keep an eye on them-- make sure they don't try anything stupid. We'll have our Orders by Sixteen Ten." As he stated this, the man made a bit of an annoyed face but nodded-- knowing there wasn't much they could do about it. A mercenary troupe, even special forces and one as large as their own, wasn't allowed to take direct credit for victories. It'd look bad on the paperwork.
--
Twenty minutes later, to Erek's ire, he saw the dust cloud signaling the shift of the vehicles coming in. "About god damn time," he stated gruffly before hauling himself up straight as he put the cigar out against the stone wall, tucking it into his breast pocket for later as he moved forward to greet them. It was a damn decent sized company, going from the number of transport vehicles-- two fifty to three hundred if he had a guess. Placing his hands behind the small of his back, his wrist clasped in the hand of its opposite, he would wait for the main transports to pass before the one holding the commanding officer halted.
Three individuals stepped out-- two in officer uniform, a major and a sergeant first class by the looks of it, the woman was wearing the uniform, and from the flash of the badges he spotted the Warrant Officer status-- and the body language that screamed she was going to be a handful. The faces of those accompanying her didn't help this-- in fact, she didn't even have her damn vest on. His nerves were already warning him this was going to be a fucking headache.
Tags: Natalie Forge
Post Words: 551
Thread Words: 551
Well, whatever-- that was the downside of joining Oroborous instead of remaining in the Marines. Sighing out a small cloud of smoke as he would glance at his watch-- the orders said the Major and his troops would be here by sixteen-hundred. That gave them twenty minutes, five to ten-- if the Major in charge actually had any fucking idea what he was doing. Hauling himself up to stand straight, he felt his back pop several times, muttering about "getting too old for this shit" as he started toward the exit of the building they were using for their temporary field HQ.
Walking out he grunted, falling against the wall as he waited-- his right hand, well, current right hand-- the last one was dead as of three days ago. Stepped forward, "Orders, sir?"
Erek simply glanced at him, before he would let out a brief sigh. "Till the fuckers get here we don't have much to do. Maintain current positions and keep an eye on them-- make sure they don't try anything stupid. We'll have our Orders by Sixteen Ten." As he stated this, the man made a bit of an annoyed face but nodded-- knowing there wasn't much they could do about it. A mercenary troupe, even special forces and one as large as their own, wasn't allowed to take direct credit for victories. It'd look bad on the paperwork.
--
Twenty minutes later, to Erek's ire, he saw the dust cloud signaling the shift of the vehicles coming in. "About god damn time," he stated gruffly before hauling himself up straight as he put the cigar out against the stone wall, tucking it into his breast pocket for later as he moved forward to greet them. It was a damn decent sized company, going from the number of transport vehicles-- two fifty to three hundred if he had a guess. Placing his hands behind the small of his back, his wrist clasped in the hand of its opposite, he would wait for the main transports to pass before the one holding the commanding officer halted.
Three individuals stepped out-- two in officer uniform, a major and a sergeant first class by the looks of it, the woman was wearing the uniform, and from the flash of the badges he spotted the Warrant Officer status-- and the body language that screamed she was going to be a handful. The faces of those accompanying her didn't help this-- in fact, she didn't even have her damn vest on. His nerves were already warning him this was going to be a fucking headache.
Tags: Natalie Forge
Post Words: 551
Thread Words: 551