Somewhere off the coast of Corsica

[img]https://ak.picdn.net/offset/photos/5cacc893469b183482a1508e/medium/photo.jpg[/img]

They called it La Source. Or in other words, the HQ for Raven Squad, the crystal-clear waters of the Med and the rocky granite-sandstone of the Corsican shore revealing a small island off the big island's mainland itself, like so many here, a beautiful little spot in the setting evening sun.

They called it home more than that, and it was a unique one at that. An old French naval facility built into the side of a cliffside, the base occupied the small island's perimeter but looked striking at that. It was built by the Nazis in the Second World War but found to be of no use for a local naval station after 30 years in service, so was quietly aquired by someone to be put to something else, Skye had to guess. Then most likely passed to Raven Squad as their little base of operations, home for them to use. Remodelled and remade into the home base for a team that might need to be anywhere at a given notice, and so they needed a place that they could call their own. The inner concrete walls were painted a striking white and grey, and looked modern, in spite of the old appearance of the facility.

The facility had five storeys to it, including the cave that the base was built on top of that had the calm water sitting inside it with various boats, and from there, the second storey being the largest with a deep cavern that multi-tasked as a multi-purpose training area, shooting range and armoury for the team. The team's gym was located there, with a cut-off area for the team's heavies, who altogether used equipment that was totally different- kettlebells and concrete blocks that looked more at home to be lifted by forklift rather than by people. The third storey had the team's accomodation, a series of indiviual quarters, the fourth a rec and lounge room with a panoramic view that incorperated a kitchen and bar, and the fifth, well, partly the property of Skye and partly the briefing rooms. A large helipad sat at the top of the cliffside, hidden from the sea by a rock formation and a stout lighthouse that lay barren inside, the helipad hosting their V22 Osprey as well as a small hangar-like building that contained a fairly exotic vehicle pool that could be loaded in or taken down onto a boat. The rest of the island wasn't large- it was more a lump of rock in the ocean, maybe a mile squared in size, but it was empty and mostly just rocks and hardy dunes. The small encampment for rotational support staff, ranging from techs for the vehicles and V22, logistics teams and various SIGINT postings finished up La Source as a location. 

It was everything an evil genius would love. Lucky the people who wanted to stop those sorts had it to themselves. Any locals or tourists must have thought it was some billionaire's little palace, because nobody would have assumed it made any sense beyond the cove at the bottom and the fancy looking one-way glass of the rec room and well, Raven Squad's team leader.

======================

Skye idled back and forth, the room she called her own at the top gently catching the sunlight through the panoramic window. It was rather impressive- the rock built into the concrete of the walls, decorated in a modern aesthetic that made it look like any high-end room in London, with modern tech across the walls. Not many secret lairs had this going for it, but well, it came with spendng an awful lot of time here. Not that it made much difference to the fact it was effectively cut-off from the world, as she took a breath, looking across to the phone on the table across from her, taking the small device and unlocking it with a thumbprint, loading up the voice recorder. She touched the glass of the windowpane, turning to the recorder as she switched it on.

[i][b]

"Well, I may as well carry it on....because this gig seems to be working. Said I'd keep a note for myself to keep my mental state in check. So....the second operation was good, though it didn't go perfectly. Rescued the Mexican President and the world has no idea it even happened. Bit more collateral than we expected...and fuck, there's paperwork to do. Lot of it. But I guess it worked. My exo's booster came in fucking handy leaping a wall.....though I'm gonna ask Laura to dial back the counter-land because it dropped me like a fridge. Plus everyone's safe and sound, we got El Presidente herself out of there. But well...fuck, it was them wasn't it?

"I've had run ins with Black Flag before, they're on a different level. Anarchist, dangerous, and worse, looking like they want some new world order. And actually having the people to go along with it, and the tech. They had a Class Two automated mech on site, ten feet of pure shit that took a lot of work to sort out. Scary bastards, and well...I suppose that's why the tech is so good that we get. A company of men wouldn't have had a chance against that. So Black Flag then...their formation out of Artemis Group, another organisation that wanted the same thing as them, and the tale I got spun by Doctor Malik tells me they've been close before to what they wanted. Oracle said they'll be weakened by it for a while, but it will come back. Gotta find more ways of fucking them up and being the world's emergency services a bit more. Cohesion is good, and the team did well. Still strange fuckers of course, but they're...well, they're the family I guess we all have now. Laura being the fucked up aunt of us all. So yep, not bad... Skye, you have got this in the bag. 

But the paperwork, that can fuck right off." 

[/b][/i]

With that, Skye chuckled and cut the recording, sighing as she looked out the window at the sunset on the horizon, her thoughts at least a lot lighter now, her sultry and gentle Scottish tones both the light and dark. An accent that took time to get used to, but once you did it was the accent that stayed with you.

Skye's intelligence and general attitude painted a picture of a nearly unstoppable force of nature, someone warm, friendly, happy, and more than that, capable of leadership. But she'd had no father figure from a young age, and learned to trust almost nobody. Or nobody to spill out to, not properly, at least. Warm and caring she was, and willing who she was to anyone, but the total irony was, she couldn't tell anyone her deepest, darkest fears. The things that turned over in her head and if she didn't tell anyone, felt like she would implode with. It was paradoxical because anyone who met her, even deep analysed her psych profile saw someone who didn't stop and dealt with it through a phenominal cognative ability, able to just learn by intuition and absorption. So Skye found it was a reassuring way to play things over in private, it was just catharsis, even sometimes not listening back over her recorded diary. Her team needed strength in its' lead, and not concern or doubt. This was her way of getting that out of the system, because the moment she stopped record, she was back to normal.

=============================

Taking a small briefcase with her from a coffee table in the room, she headed out, the red-haired Scot wearing a pair of outdoorsy-looking trousers and a navy-blue t-shirt, her vibrantly red hair bunched up. Skye's contrasts seemed to continue, the Scot wearing no make-up but remaining as bright as ever, a few freckles dotting her face and a small scar that ran along her cheekbone, a reminder of the line of work she sometimes ended up in. She felt like getting away from her own isolation and getting back to where everyone might be- and well, thought to take the contents of the case with her. The team were likely slowly assembling after a rest day Skye's own routine was finished long ago, a long biathalon around the bay, swimming and running up around the small island of their home, coupled to a strength-training routine in her calandar for today. She did fancy some food too, but knew that the team had some plans to hang about downstairs too, and she'd nudged them all that way after they were done in the armoury, gym, or doing whatever they did on their rest days.

The Scottish team lead took that opportunity to head downstairs, taking the lift to get the the the rec room, a spatious, airy lounge with a bar and kitchen in one corner, beanbags, chairs and sofas scattered about and a feeling of generally being opened out. It was empty for now, but no doubt more would turn in soon. For a small squad that was Raven, it was luxury, and a calming presence as she headed over to one of the tables, pinging a message of where she was to the team in their encrypted chat, some people opting for watches, others keeping it on a secured phone. She headed to the cooler, and finding a bottle, she found hers, in another case that she could draw. A '81 Single Malt, Islay Whisky. A glass of that on the table for her, a gentle wick to start her off, and she felt more in the mood. That and for the rest of the team to have, because well, a job well done was to be rewarded. With that, she opened the other case she'd brought down, which revealed a cherry oak fiddle, an instrument she treasured very much, as leaning against the wall, she began to find her tune. A Scots instrument that scored home, literally every loch, mountain and valley felt like this had it playing when she was back in her head. A tune she knew might bring a few people in, given the door was open, and get them all together.

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OD-RKGbF0pY&ab_channel=AlphaWmega]Fiddle[/url]

For a moment, she wasn't on a Corsican island. She was home, and it always felt like it took the edge off her mental state, a quiet solace that she could sooth into.

=========================================



Meanwhile, Laura was finishing up in the gym, and well, lobbing what appeared to be a smoothed out kettlebell at a netting, the ball around 80kg that she picked up and carried from one side to another. It was like playing with a shot put but lobbing a piece of concrete that could probably knock most people over, as she threw another once again, the huge weight bouncing from the netting which was made of something ludicrous to take the heat. Exhaling, she puffed a long sigh of relief, the team's armourer taking a moment to compose herself and wipe the sweat from her face with her paw-like hand, the last of the routine for now. Not much of her left anything to the imagination when she wore a red gym bra and shorts, and in all honesty, she didn't care. She kinda liked being a big deal, no matter who was seeing it. I mean, it was hardly like they were strangers, they were the team, the guys....and if they really didn't, what would they do, tell Skye they didn't like it? She giggled internally at the idea, knowing full well she wouldn't care. The team's armourer was no less capable in a fight, and while she had a backroom role for now, it suited her just fine being the techy girl and getting to try her shit out without setting fire to....wait, why was it Skye said this time? Eh, it didn't matter.

Showering off after finishing her routine, she emerged and got dressed, putting on a cardigan and a pair of tight jeans, and seeing the message prop up on her phone, Laura would promptly would be point of reference for anyone that was going up from the gym or the arsenal, making her way to the lift and waiting for it. The German giant seemed very insular for the moment being, the calm before the storm, or perhaps her just being a bit pooped from throwing a large ball of concrete like it was a football from her cannon like arms. That fire in her eyes was always there mind, always going through. Always a loose cannon, and she'd never have it any other way. Brushing her hair back, the German giant could feel her stomach grumble, and the sooner she got some food down, the less hangry she was gonna be.