[color=00a651] [h2] [centre] Victor Asimov [/centre] [/h2]
[hr] [centre] Location: At the Airstrip with his men >>> waiting on the recruits [/centre][/color]

It was morning. The smell of diesel fuel and rubber graced those near the concrete landing strip. Black streaks littered the runway from the weekly coming and goings of supply planes. A few large wood and metal hangars dotted the sidelines. Their huge doors remained closed hiding whatever may lay inside. On the outskirts of the airfield a small field of grass bled away to evergreen forest with a single paved road disappearing toward a large square structure.

A large Grey VTOL with the name Pegasus painted on the side, sat motionless near a fuel truck. A few workers wearing yellow reflective vests and orange hardhats moved between the truck and the VTOL. The cargo transport was an older model. Four giant propellers at the end of the wings could pitch up and down. Very good at maneuvering in tight quarters, had a decent top speed in higher altitudes, and could carry enough weight and had enough room for their needs. But, it was prone to mechanical issues and mid-flight system failures.

Outside toward the back of the giant VTOL stood six individuals. These six all wore the same clean dark green uniform. The uniform itself was neat but had several missing patches. The patches that were left where their names stitched above the right breast pocket and another tag above their left breast pocket that read, ‘SOAS.’ If one were to ask what the abbreviation meant, they would receive a simple answer. Special Operations Applied Sciences . The ranks they wore were mostly symbolic, the SOAS tag alone meant they had top secret clearance and mostly kept to themselves.

Out of the six one stood out as their leader. A tall strong man with shaved black hair and a near permanent scowl. Pinned to his right breast read the name ‘Asimov.’ A metal band jutted slightly out from his right temple and curved its way across his right eyebrow. A similarity all the soldiers shared. This piece of tech was implanted just the other day. Their skin still a bit red around the edges.

This tech wasn’t connected to any system within them and didn’t augment them in any way. But it did allow them to communicate and display the information given to them by their designated Virtual Intelligence or V.I. a ‘gift’ from the scientists. However, the soldiers had their suspicions that the V.I.’s were really just there to spy on them for the scientists and keep an eye on the recruits.

The soldiers were being quiet, spending their time watching the flight crews go through their final pre-flight checks. A darker skinned soldier with some Samoan ancestry spoke up first. The name ‘Saga’ pinned to his wide chest. He didn’t speak to anyone in particular while he slowly turned to look toward the square complex in the distance.

[color=f26522]“So, you guys think these kids are ganna be worth it?”[/color]

The large man’s question was met with silence. But eventually someone decided to chime in. a short red head with a bit of Irish descent. Her hair was wrapped up in a neat bun with freckles sprinkled across her face. The name ‘Kerr’ sewn on her blouse.

[color=ed1c24]“Yeah, cute kids that are a bit rough around the edges. All they need is for a bunch of guys like us to light a fire under their arse to get them going. They’ll be killing machines in no time.”[/color]

The rest of them got a good laugh in before they became silent again. They all found themselves standing in a line and looking off in the direction these recruits were supposed to arrive from. For now, they weren’t behind schedule just yet. The fun for them would begin when they got on base. Until then, they would remain silent casually going over the files of the recruits that are meant for their squads and getting used to their new assistants.


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