[color=lime][h1]Ozmond[/h1][/color]

[hr]

Oz decided that being unfrozen was not a pleasant experience. He gasped for cold, stale, air, wincing at the light as his pod opened with a hiss. He tumbled down from the upright pod, sitting on his knees as he caught his breath. He took a precursory glance around him and found that he wasn’t alone. 

Another man, about his height but significantly more muscled. Before he could feel too self-conscious, he came to the conclusion that he had the better beard. A woman, who he easily had eight or so inches on. She was smiling, which he found interesting considering the situation. Another man, who he immediately decided he was afraid of. The man had a hard face, and gave off a vibe that said “do not fuck with me.” Oz was only too happy to oblige. The final person in the room, an older man who was somehow scarier than the last. He had steely eyes, and a beard that Ozmond had to concede was better than his own. 

They began introducing themselves. Robert, Rain, Jericho, Ben. It only felt right to add his own name to the list. Before he could, people started dressing. He suddenly realized they were all wearing skin tight black body suits. Some years ago, he may have been distracted by the tightness of their garb, but years of doctoring had killed that. He watched, realizing that everyone was putting on their clothes over the body suits. He decided to do the same.  He donned the thin, long-sleeve thermal shirt and the heavy A-MOS pants. The A-MOS jacket came next, and he buttoned it up, feeling more comfortable with its familiar weight. He slid into the boots last, deciding to attach the helmet and goggles to his belt, since it appears as though they weren’t in combat. He stopped suddenly. How did he know what an A-MOS was? He couldn’t remember ever wearing one, but it felt familiar. He panicked silently, realizing he could remember little, excluding his name. There must have been a memory wipe of some sort. Yes, that sounded right. He realized that the woman, Rain, was beginning to walk away and decided to speak.

[color=lime]”Ozmond. Ozmond McGregor. Though almost everyone I’ve ever known calls me Oz. I-I’m a, uh, m-medic, I think.”[/color]

He began to remember a bit more. He knew he had been an army medic, a fact that suddenly made him aware of the fact that his pistol was gone. He couldn’t remember what army he had fought for, though. He shook his head, deciding to follow the lights towards what he assumed to be the bridge. Everything would probably be explained there, right?