[img=http://www.comicbookdaily.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/259921-143503-storm-shadow_super.jpg] Several Years Ago Kandahar, USMC Base Hospital, Burn Unit "Sgt. Arashikage, do you, in your honest opinion, believe that the mission went so wrong as to say that M. Sgt. Snake Eyes' field report was the only viable course of action?" From his hospital bed, Thomas S. Arashikage looked up. In his eyes was a feeling of capriciousness, and tired annoyance. .When he spoke, however, his tone was that of a tired serviceman, used to the rigors of Military life. It was not the first time he and Snake Eyes had been up for a court-martial, though this was the first time it was for this grave of an offense. It was also the last, as he had decided to leave active service. The horrors of the last mission had proved, despite how superior his training was to the average infantryman, he was still a child in the ways of war. It amazed him how they had barely made it out of that Taliban cave alive, and they were [I]Special Forces[/I[. "No, I'm telling youit was our LAST course of action. All of our men, who can't be buried by the by, were dead, and the two of us were being held, possibly as ransom. We busted out of captivity, and freed who we could. Sanders and Collins were still alive, along with John Connor. Our last course of action was what was done. If anything, Snake Eyes acted with absolute honor." The balding JAG standing in front of him sighed. "Look, Sergeant, if you want to keep your job-" Another sigh, this time from Tommy. "No. Look, I've seen too much as it is. The rigors of our training, the wealth of routine, they can't help us in warfare like this. We are not prepared for urban guerilla tactics, simply put." The JAG nodded, and lowered his eyes. "I see. If that's the way you feel, I'll inform the officers that you will NOT be renewing your tour of duty. We would however, like to know where you are intending to go, considering the fact that M. Sgt. Snake Eyes will likely be dishonorably discharged.." Tommy paused for a moment, sighing. He sat up in bed, wincing at the scars, fresh and barely healed. "Japan. I think I'd like to see my uncle. " Three Years ago Arashikage-ryu Compound. The day Snake Eyes arrived. He had not been here long, only two short years. But in that time, he had learned much, and under the Hard Master's tutelage, he was showing more progress than one would have thought possible for two years of learning the ways of the ninja. Currently, he was practicing the kata of the Kusarigama, striking at a wooden dummy with the chained sickle, moving with precision borne of thousands of hours of practice. Though he was wide awake, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his straight jet black hair was loose in various strands. He looked as if he hardly slept, and in truth, he spent more of his waking hours training rather than anything else. More often than not, he was up until all hours of the night, working at rigorous kata. The boy was a man possessed. Indeed, in his current task he was so focused that it took four times for the Hard Master to call him. "." Tommy set down the kusarigama, and walked over. A look of surprise came upon him when it was Daiki Oroku staring back at him, though his expression slowly morphed into a grin. He bowed, as was custom, and then clasped the man he considered his brother in a handshake that turned into a hug. The two had seen too much together. . "" The Hard Master nodded his assent, and Tommy led his friend around, chatting away. The Soft Master walked up to his blood brother, looking at his son leading their newest recruit around. "" "" The Hard Master smiled, and sighed. He himself had had a bond like that once, a nearly unshakeable friendship with a man he once called brother. The two were now bitter enemies, and that brother was calling himself a different name these days.. "This should be encouraged. Friends like these only come once in a lifetime.>" The Soft Master smiled warmly, and nodded. "" PRESENT DAY COBRA Submarine base Somewhere off the coast of California. The white-clad ninja strode the decks of the COBRA craft, his expression earning him a few stares that were quickly turned away, mainly out of fear. He turned to his right and knocked once on the iron doors that stood as the command centre of Destro. The doors swung open and the ninja strode in. A heavy clang sounded as the doors shut, and Destro called out to him, standing in front of a holographic view of a globe. [I]Always with the theatrics,{/I] Storm Shadow thought, calm enclosing his face, veiling his thoughts. Though theatricality and deception were powerful weapons in the hands of those who knew how to use them, Storm Shadow was one of the few that had no time for it when it was being used on him. Destro, despite being the man behind the MARS weapons manufacturer, still used theatricality to evoke fear into his "Subordinates" and to his mind, the ninja was no different. At times, it almost seemed like his ego rivaled the Commander's. It certainly explained the reason why the two did not get along; they were too busy lording their superiority over each other. "STORM SHADOW," Destro boomed, "I assume you have good news?" The man folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head down, trying to give the impression that the mask he wore to conceal his identity was glaring at him. In truth, it was a truly frightening visage, to most anyway. "Target eliminated." the ninja replied, tossing the severed finger onto the table behind McCullen. McCullen turned his head for an instant, and when he returned his gaze to the place where Storm Shadow once stood, the ninja was already gone.