Winter never was a kind time of year in North Dakota. The heavy snows and freezing temperatures were hardly hospitable, especially not since the climate of Earth had long since turned to the more extreme. Out in the wilderness of the mountains, there wasn't any help, protection, or safety from the elements for miles. Perfect training grounds to keep his skillset sharp.

It had been almost 6 months since Galius had been on active duty. Between the medical leave for his injuries and the TCMP being tired of trying to convince him that he could better serve if he were to undergo the replacement surgery for his vocal chords, it seemed that they had given up on trying to make things work for Galius. Why help a man who didn't want to be helped? He couldn't lead the soldiers he was to lead as a Lieutenant, and they wouldn't demote him for unknown reasons. Maybe that was what Galius had been hoping for. Laying in the snow with naught but thermal clothing and a wrap to protect his head from the frostbite, Galius hadn't moved for hours, seemingly unphased by the cold and the extreme weather. He had been waiting for a target, a moving one, to give him a slight challenge over the series of empty beer bottles already shattered on the mountainside. Staring down the scope of his rifle, he eyed his target, a small buck, roughly 200 yards away according to his optics. Simple.

The steam rose off the tip of his rifle as his implants confirmed the kill. Slowly standing and shaking off the snow that had fallen on his back, Galius cracked his neck, the long hours of being immobile having taken their toll on his body. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he began the walk down toward his kill when his implants began to blink a red dot signifying a classified message. As he walked, information scrolled across the bottom of his vision, indicating he needed to be ready to move out to headquarters within the day. With a heavy sigh, Galius turned and headed toward civilization. He had a transport to catch.

---

He had always hated this place, loud, bustling, and absurdly over-done, the TCMP headquarters would be a tourist hit were it not highly regulated and travel to it limited. He wondered just how they got away with spending this vast amount of money on all these structures that served for little else than to look pretty and give the commanding officers something to pose by. Galius had about two hours until the meeting that he was supposed to be on started. Dressed in his Viper fatigues with his rank emblazened across the shoulder, Galius looked like a man about to be deployed rather than a man about to meet his commanding officer. His hair was tied back in a pony tail and it was obvious that he hadn't showered on his transport. Technically, the way he was dressed was proper, which was good, because he hated the dress uniform, but no doubt anyone who was expecting perfect appearance would be upset with him. Though, it's not like they gave him much of a choice considering how little time they gave him to get there. It's a wonder he made it on time at all. He exited the transport and tossed his small duffel bag across his shoulders that was sure to set off every single checkpoint from here to Central.

It took him longer than expected to get through all the checkpoints from his transport, but even so, he had 45 minutes until the meeting. What better way to spend it than with a nice, morning scotch. Only a couple minute's walk from Central was Dirty Dan's, a strip club that was a favorite among the TCMP who were sleazy enough to go in. Galius enjoyed it solely because the lighting was low enough that no drunk asshole who hadn't seen a day's combat in his life would ask him about his scars. As he walked in, he noticed that the day shift was on, and took a glance at the girl on stage whos vitals showed she was pregnant.

When he sat down at the bar, a fat old man walked up and stood across from him, no doubt waiting for his order. Galius simply pointed to the bottle of Macallan 15 year on the shelf behind him. The bartender looked at the soldier peculiarly, but realized that if he was drinking this early in the morning, it's probably best that he didn't ask. The man grabbed a glass and reached for the cubes of ice below him when Galius waved his hand at him and shook his head. The bartender nodded and poured the scotch straight into the glass. Galius took it and dropped a few credits on the counter, enough for two drinks. 

Standing up and walking over to the stage where the pregnant and somewhat homely stripper was doing her work, Galius sat down and watched. Only one other patron was in the bar at this hour, and he was completely drunk. Galius sipped his scotch and watched the hips of the girl in front of him for only a couple minutes before the drunk soldier started flapping his jaw.

"Hey man," The soldier slurred together, staggering over and slapping the much larger Galius on the shoulder, "Maybe they should get us the 'A' ladies in here, huh? This one looks like shit!"

Galius ignored the soldier, not even making eye contact, and continued to watch the poor pregnant girl, whose heart rate had increased most likely because she was pissed at the audacity of the drunken soldier. She continued to dance, and slipped slightly on the pole, recovering and continuing her routine before the soldier spoke up again.

"See! She can't even do it right! Dumb whore." The drunk spat out again as she glared over at him and Galius, who still hadn't removed his eyes from her. The soldier foolishly stood in front of his view. "What'sa matter? Can't talk, asshole?"

Galius' eyes were now firmly fixed to the drunk as he stood up and towered a good foot over the man. He downed the rest of his scotch and took a step toward the drunk, who stood his ground. Galius stared him in the face and watched him shrink, the cold stare that he had given so many obviously working in this case. The soldier struggled to keep eye contact until he averted his eyes and saw the rank and insignia of the Vipers on Galius' shoulder and quickly realized what he had done.

"S-sir. I'm sorry sir... Forgive me sir. I'm drunk." He said, stepping back and lowering his head like a whipped pup. Galius nodded his head toward the stripper and the soldier looked back quizzically, then back and Galius. He nodded again, and soldier pulled a few credits out of his pocket and put them in the stripper's waistband. Galius cracked a grin and patted the soldier on the head. His optical implants were telling him he had about 5 minutes left before the meeting, just enough time to make it.

----

Galius made it just in time to the meeting. The long walk down this absurdly extravagant hallway would have him arrive just about a minute before the meeting was supposed to start. He turned the corner and entered the room to be greeted by the woman who was no doubt his commanding officer, which was shortly confirmed by his implants informing him of her rank, as well as other random bits of information, as well two very high ranking men whom anyone in the TCMP would recognize. Galius snapped to attention and saluted, realizing just how serious this mission may actually be...