[center][b]Sector Z - Training Grounds: Central Lake[/b][/center]

The central lake in the middle of the man made land was a pristine display of clear blue water that brushed against a clean shore. A squad of mercenaries jogged along the shore, energetically chanting as they began their daily routine. It was a training day; the mercs were either pushing themselves to the limit or knocked out in the various medical tents. The lake was shaped like an oval, the top of which connected to a route leading to the entrance of the Training Grounds. West of the lake, mercenaries training their bodies, running along the long shores or engaging in other physical fitness routines. To the east, the mercenaries were practicing close-quarters-combat in groups of one-on-one and two-on-two spars. Kisheto, who had finally had a chance to dust off some of his physical slack via rigorous exercise, now stood facing Josh, one of Hector's best mercenaries. 

"You don't seem to understand how this works do you? But at the same time..." Josh's voice sounded condescending, although his frustration was brought upon himself, as he had felt he had failed to teach the boy how to engage in physical combat. Kisheto interjected with a snicker, "...I'm whoopin, right?" Josh chuckled. The boy wasn't completely wrong - although he failed to grasp even elementary concepts of basic CQC combat, he had managed to find himself obtaining the upper hand when locking fists, quite possible out of sheer luck. However Josh knew better than to credit the boy's continuous sparring success to mere chance, "You have your own way of dishin' out blows. I don't understand your fighting style, but damn, it works." Kisheto smiled, "Yeahyeahyeah, it's just how I do, y'know? But yo, tell me somethin'. I overheard uh... the spanish brothah, forgot his name, but..."

"Hector." Josh said as he shook his head at the boy's forgetfulness.
Kisheto nodded anxiously, "Yeah yeah, him, uh, he called you up to tell you to get ready for..."
"...the mission?" Josh finished his sentence with raised eyebrows, expressing his intent to simply get the boy to spit out whatever he was saying. 
Kisheto nodded once more, "Yup, the one with the blood fuckers right?" Josh laughed and nodded, "Yeah, why? You wanna come? They're about to leave, actually." 
Kisheto chuckled, "I wish, I was gonna ask you if you could put in a word for me with Hector. He said I couldn't go..." 
Josh smiled, "Sneaky little punk. What makes you think I'd disobey him? He knows what he's doing, dude. Just trust him." Josh then stretched his arms and looked at his watch with a yawn, "Actually... I should be getting ready for that. Shit, where did I put my armor, though?" 

As Josh turned away, looking around for signs of his gear, Kisheto face palmed, realizing he might have just lost his opportunity to tag along by telling Josh he was denied permission. Josh then turned around and snapped his fingers, "The locker rooms, yeah I left 'em there. Damn, hold on let me go get them." As soon as all hope seemed lost, Kisheto's eyes lit up with their usual mischievous intent, "W-wait, yo, um... I'll get 'em for you. Where are they exactly?" Josh raised a brow at Kisheto's offer to help and chuckled, "Uh... locker 32. There's no combination - we don't really gotta worry about thieves in our base. Just press the little button thing and it'll open. Get my armor, my paperwork, my spray, my rifle, and my-"

Before Josh could finish his sentence, Kisheto was off. He ran with a smirk on his face as he dashed towards the locker rooms, having found his key to the mission in which he hoped to prove himself. [i]Damn! The irony's killer! Gonna have to steal some armor to be a hero. Guess some people never change, huh?[/i] he thought to himself as he chuckled. It was a short way to the locker rooms for someone filled to the brim his energy - and it was only going to double once he set foot into the squad he didn't belong in.