"What the hell is this?" Garrett growled while his vexed gaze became affixed to his datapad.
On the screen of his personal datapad were mission orders issued by the Captain herself, requesting he and his team to sortie as escort for her, the Friestanians, and several of the
Thucydides's personnel. This he didn't have an issue with. Granted, his group was primarily trained for incursions into unexplored territory and handling the threats that may lie in wait - something he made damn sure his team prepared for - and perhaps a diplomatic security detail wasn't what he nor his teammates were well-versed in, aside from shutting up, not doing anything stupid, and let the officials do the talking. Then again, his team was the only group with first-hand experience with the Friestanians and had a rough personality profile of the natives to know how to interact or handle any of them if need be. It was likely this fact that his team was requested once more.
Again, he didn't have an issue with this.
What he did have a problem with were the underlining mission prerequisites. His team was allowed to retain their standard armament, however, their rifles and pistols were to be strictly stowed in provided leather soft cases and holsters and only brought out either per the Captain's orders or if circumstances became extraordinary to call for them. Garrett thought the requirement odd, unnecessary even, since it practically filed his team's fang down and dampened their efficiency in a combat situation, especially since their combat knives or whatever tools could be passed off as weapons were allowed if a conflict erupted. Not only that, their standard-issue all-environment armored suits, a staple in their establish field role, were now replaced by something called the...
...'mission designated uniform'...
Really?Garrett looked up from this datapad and stared at his new 'mission designated uniform' that sat atop the Supply and Requisition office's outgoing desk. A large frown formed on his already unenthused face. What he and his team were handed were, as what was indicated by the equipment manifest underneath the mission orders, clothes that would allow them to blend in with the Friestanian populace; medieval clothing basically. Though he naturally wanted to hate the get-up he was given, he couldn't deny the sewing department's craftsmanship of each article of clothing that did look and feel like someone from the middle-ages would wear, just with a touch of practical and modern flair. As it became obvious through his inspection, his team's set of attire was specifically designed for protection, given the padded gambeson jacket that formed into a half-skirt around the waist and several strips of brigandine placed in some areas of the body, namely the shoulders and arms. It was eventually evident that one or two people from S&R had to confer with the Armory officers about the outfits. It quickly occurred to him then why their firearms were to be held in reserve, mainly to benefit the era-appropriate disguises they were handed.
As he continued to look over the uniforms and began begrudgingly liking them, he couldn't help but notice one of the S&R clerks looking over the team as they reviewed their equipment. Genevieve, going by the nameplate the clerk wore above her chest and pinned to her uniform, had her face painted with an anxious expression and a nervous smile. If he had to guess, she was looking to see if the outfits were to his team's liking. Of course, anyone not within the security division's ranks knew that their members favored anything practical and defensible, like a standard-issue all-environment armored suit for instance. So anything less than light or reconnaissance armor or a personnel shield was frowned upon; which meant pleasing them with something that couldn't tank an energy bolt was a difficult task to achieve, thus explaining the clerk's uneasiness.
Sighing, Garrett turned slightly to Meisha who marveled at her uniform and exemplified the word 'enthusiastic' to a tee with her eyes casting glittering stars of intrigue. Then again, she usually was like this with new stuff anyhow. He had no idea where she got her infinite reserves of positivity from.
"Meisha," he said under his breath but just enough for her to hear,
"you have my permission to verbally express yourself without restraint."The smallest and youngest of their number quickly turned her head to him and a big grin took shape upon her bright visage. And just like that, she went off like a firework, resounding the work put into the outfits and praising the fabricators for their excellent skills and craftsmanship. Such bellowing positivity was enough to even garner the attention of the other workers deep into the department space. If it wasn't evident enough, Meisha had a problem with being too loud and expressive - which even she recognized - and was disciplined into opening up only off-duty or at the behest of her superiors.
"Hey," Garret suddenly said to Thorin while kicking the taller man's leg,
"you join in too.""Oh, uh," Thorin, not known for his mental sharpness and more so for his bold and imposing stature, scrambled to come up with a compliment, especially having been put on the spot, "ah, these fit me just right. I really like these!"
At least he wasn't wrong; the bald Scandinavian man was nearly seven feet tall and requestioning and maintaining anything in Thorin's size and shape was a chore. Being able to easily dwarf the entire crew of the ship with seemingly no equal to measure up to him, it was honestly a fact he had every right to boast about but was simply too humble to make the claim. Actually, it was more apt to consider him innocently naive and thick-headed to the point where nothing phased him or anything else could fly over his head.
Looking over to Genevieve, who was now preoccupied with Meisha bombarding her with queries about their new clothing, Garrett could tell her tense expression from earlier had faded and a confident countenance and a natural smile, not an artificial one, had manifested.
"You did that on purpose," said Shirly through her wry grin.
"Yeah, I did," Garrett admitted unapologetically,
"you want me to toss you and Tess in there too?""Don't you dare," hissed Tess, likely speaking for Shirly too in expressing their reluctance to animate themselves like Meisha or poor Thorin.
Returning to his mission attire, and trying to ignore the loud praising he had instigated, Garrett combed through the rest of the equipment and noticed a small communication badge was included with his gear. Though his team never needed them before, considering the kind of missions they were meant to take usually required them to wear sealed suits that had built-in comm systems within their helmets, the tiny badges were easy to hide, and to the uninformed mind, the devices seemed like nothing else but a simple pin. Additionally, the badge could produce such isolated and localized noise that only the wearer could hear it and no one else, not even anyone purposely getting physically close could hear a thing. On top of being able to amplify the whispering from the wearing into a normal tone, the comm badge was useful in establishing discreet communication between wearers without public eyes or ears noticing.
Upon taking the time to inspect the badge and looking it over, mainly to see how the thing worked, he set it aside and returned to reviewing his attire, noting the leather boots and gloves and the refined cotton trousers that seemed to vaguely resemble denim jeans if no other comparison could be made. Seeing the many clothes and seeing the material used to craft them, Garrett was becoming ever more curious about exactly what other kinds of fabrics or other material they had brought and how much exactly. He shoved the through away, realizing that he was better off not knowing; logistics was certainly a very mysterious and powerful force he'd rather not question.
Finally, after he was finished satisfying his curiosity with his outfit, he looked over to an adjacent table littered with handheld tools. That was initially what he thought they were. Upon walking up to the table, the 'tools' were in fact additional knives, several heat machetes, and expandable batons. The knives were self-explanatory through the machetes and batons were certainly unexpected. Ironically, Commonwealth combat doctrines, despite acknowledging the necessities of close-quarters engagements, never once considered any weapon bigger than a typical combat knife to be used - then again, said combat doctrines also acknowledged improvisation when needed. Garrett, seeing how much work was put into his get-up to be as genuinely authentic to the medieval period as possible, had almost expected authentic swords or axes as well. Unsurprisingly, fabricating such weapons was a much taller order than weaving fabrics so the set before him simply had to do.
Picking out what he thought he needed from the selection of 'weapons', he looked over his shoulder to see Meisha still going at it with her praises and Thorin barely able to keep up with her, while Tess and Shirly kept their focus on their newly acquired gear.
"Settle down you two," Garrett ordered,
"I think Jenny over there got the message; A-plus. Now get over here and get dressed. Op starts in two hours; plenty of time get used to your new digs and to admire yourself in them."
The ride down from the Great Table would be uneventful aside from a few cases of small talk between the
Thucydides crew and the Friestanians. However, things would pick up after dismounting the rover and watching as a strange vessel came into view, steadily approaching upstream. Looking over its design, it was very comparable to what a typically sailing ship, or perhaps a Junk, which most of the
Thucydides crew would know about their historical text. Though its method of propulsion was certainly unusual and Garrett wasn't quite sure how it worked and was half-expecting Sumiye to mention something about it.
He and his team watched silently as Srikandi and the ship captain conversed with one another though Garrett couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when the knight fabricated a cover story that established the
Thucydides crew as another group of adventures she and her party had found. Aside from the convincing getups they wore, with Almira's attire being very much the exception, he questioned how exactly legitimate they really appeared. Luckily, the ship captain, even after looking in their direction for a brief moment, didn't stop to question any of Srikandi's words and allowed everyone aboard. Like the ride within the Rover, the trip to Cendana was without any drama or existential hurdles. For most of the brief trip, Garrett stood by the ship's mast, arms folded, and quietly half-listened to the skipper's life tales while shifting his observations from some of the mariners going about their duties, to the watery environment surrounding the vessel.
It wasn't long until the city of Cendana came into perfect view and what a perfect view it was. While Cendana was certainly not as massive or towering as the sprawling cityscapes and ecumenopolis back within Commonwealth territory, Cendana certainly had a strange and notable majesty to it, like a preserved relic of time undeteriorated. This was perhaps helped by the fact of how bright it was without the bustling aero-car traffic or a multitude of skyscrapers - like Garrett and many amongst his group were used to seeing- to keep its brilliance enshadowed.
Eventually, as they docked and disembarked from the ship, Garrett quickly realized how many people that went about their business through the port took the time to stare in their direction. More specifically, as he would instantly confirm, their gaze was set solely on Almira herself, for obvious reasons regarding her outfit which Garrett tried and failed to hide the doubt in his expression which practically said,
'you're just now noticing?' : an expressive message that seemed to be silently shared and conveyed by the rest of the crew. Srikandi had then urged them forward into the city and everyone followed ignoring the stares and seemingly moving past them too. Garrett looked around, oddly admiring the 'primative' architecture and the lively socialness of the townsfolk moving about the streets. He had heard of fairs back on Earth that emulated and celebrated the medieval and renaissance periods of its history where everyone from onlookers to participants were immersed in the old cultural ways. In a sense, he felt like he was walking through one of those fairgrounds however Garrett indeed reminded himself that this was essentially the real deal.
After some time, it became quickly evident they had become lost. Spectacularly lost in fact, as they had somehow taken a wrong turn and wound up in a wide yet secluded alleyway, "how did we end up here?" asked a rightly confused Thorin.
"I'm..." began Garrett, stunned and just as confused as his underling,
"I've no idea how we managed this."Srikandi would soon apologize for her error in leading the group into a dead end though before Garrett could even consider or try to call her out on her incredible mistake, the sound of footsteps began to echo from the dark corners and crevices of the alley. Soon the footsteps became louder and louder until the group was surrounded by at least twenty men, all of whom appeared dirty and ragged, armed, and most certainly unfriendly. Even before one of the would-be bandits could start making a demand, Garrett was already issuing orders. Tapping the comm badge he inserted beneath the collar of his gambeson jacket, he spoke softly and quietly into the device.
//My gut is telling me we're not walking out here without a few scrapes. Shirly, move back and cover the rest of the crew behind us. Thorin, help her and take up the rear; I want an exit route. Meisha, you're in the center, intercept anyone trying to worm their way past us. Tess, the Captain's flank is all you. I'll cover Srikandi and the other Friestanians near me. All copy?//His team acknowledged the command and he thought that would've been it until Tess unexpectedly chimed in.
//Uh, boss? Cathrine's right next to me. What about her?//Garrett felt his eyebrow twitch,
//What about her? You saw the security scans the moment she stepped onto our ship. She's loaded with several substances that the Commonwealth had outlawed and considered them materials for creating a variety of WMDs. She's fine. She-////Actually,// Shirly quickly cut in,
//She's dropping her voodoo bag and looking like she wants to brawl.////Goddammit,// Garrett signed in annoyance,
//fine, go cover her too, Tess.////Copy.////Also, try not to kill this lot if you can help it. Neutralize them if all possible.//Releasing the comm badge, he shook his head and looked ahead at the thugs before him. He clearly wasn't over the fiasco Catherine inadvertently created and nearly drew about Galmira's wrath. Of course in a twist of irony, he was expecting the alchemist to deploy her potions and toxins, which would've kept a large part of their flank secured and likely discourage the bandits from approaching that direction. But that idea was tossed out the moment she opted for a fisticuff, thus prompting him to now task Tess with additional weight. Then again, Tess always liked the challenge and had a knack for taking her job as a security officer in a direction the role had neither intended nor encouraged. That was namely being able to beat the shit out of people if they got out of line and her notable background in martial arts easily enabled her to excel on that front. Garrett still couldn't believe that she and Meisha were sisters.
Not a moment later and two thugs were already barrelling down on him - and likewise he to them. The cybernetics that he, and his team, had received during his initial years of service training was now firing in response to the fight or flight scenario that developed before him. The small to microscopic-sized devices tapped into the neural pathways of his brain, triggering the many chemical signals throughout his body and promoting adrenaline to course through. The moment one of the thugs lifted their foot off the ground to enter a charge, that same moment Garrett was already perceiving the action and responded in kind and lunged forward. As he got in close, he unsheathed the heat machete he took along into his right hand and drew his combat knife with his left. The closest of the bandits swung their sword down on top of him, but Garrett saw this too and quickly side-stepped the attack and immediately struck back, catching the man's sword in-between the serrated teeth of his knife and pulling both the opposing blade and its wielder to him. In another quick move which at this point the bandit was unable to react fast enough, Garrett swung the machete down, hoping to force the sword out of his opponent's hand.
The heat machetes weren't intended for actual combat and instead designed for cutting through thick foliage or carving through narrow or thin hardened surfaces, such as metal pipes or steel beams. This was made possible by the blade's centerpiece substance in-fitted as the machete's edge was a recently discovered crystalline material which, due to its incredible exothermic oxidation properties, could generate insane levels of heat upon receiving an electrical current through the carbon-fiber and nano-steel frame. Basically, the material becomes superheated to the point where upon contact with most surfaces, the heated blade would either cut right through with little effort or slowly but surely carve through via melting the obstacle. However, Garrett kept that feature off, for now, seeing it as perhaps overkill in light of the circumstance of his fight, and focused on disarming the bandit...
...which he achieved though not in the way he had intended. As it turned out, the heat machete's vastly more durable construction and the incredible sharpness of its bladed edge was more than enough than what the bandit's sword could withstand as upon contact, Garrett's blade bit through, separating a majority portion of the sword away from the base of the hilt with a metallic pinging noise. The thug's face was drained of color upon seeing such an act set upon him and Garrett himself was almost as surprised but instead of dwelling on it, he pushed his momentum forward and brought his left hand around, now formed into a meaty fist while still possessing the knife within its grasps, and sent it smashing between the eyes of the unfortunate bandit.
The well-placed hit, resounding with a crack, toppled the man over his heels and collapsed into a limp and unconscious heap. Garrett then set his sights on the thug's partner, who by now saw the entire altercation last a measly three seconds and halted their charge, instinctively reacting to the realization that his foe was far more of a threat than he had anticipated. Seeing this hesitation, Garrett lunged toward the stunned bandit, both his blades pointed towards this quarry. The bandit himself took a step back and raised their sword defensively. Such a response however was anticipated by Garrett while he reached pivoted around the enemy, pulling the same trick before by using his knife to pry the opposing blade aside. At this point, he had the bandit dead to rights and could cleave apart his helpless opponent with his heat machete but instead opted into a different course of action. Pressing the trigger on the utility blade's handle, the heat machete's edge glowed a bright and searing hot orange, contrasting with the tool's black frame.
In a quick stroke, he swung the machete towards the bandit's leg however with the burning edge turned away. The machete's flat profile connected and the bandit yelped loudly, not so much in response to the hard impact, but feeling the searing heat that Garrett's blade shot through his weathered cloth and leather. As if he were momentarily lashed by fire, which wasn't far off in actuality, the bandit quickly recoiled and jumped into the air. Practically processing the man's reaction in near slow motion, Garrett quickly moved again, sliding his knife behind the bandit's raised boot, further unstabling his balance and bringing his foe falling backwards. Just before the bandit could connect with the ground, Garrett raised his left foot through the maneuver and slammed it down into the man's chest and crashing the stunned body into the pavement with a reverberating thud. Looking down at his fallen enemy, boot still in the bandit's torso, Garret could quickly determine this thug too was concussed and unmoving. That was two fewer fools to worry about.
As if looking for another target, he swung around and looked at the battle unfolding behind him. It seemed everyone was holding their own. Srikandi and Almira appeared to be doing well in fending off their attackers. Tess, who he ordered to cover their Captain, lunged at a startled and scuffed-up thug and brought down the dull backends of the machetes within both her hands onto the man's helm. The connections throttled him into the ground and Tess soon too was looking for more enemies. Garrett's eyes darted over to Thorin who he, for a split-second, witnessed him picking up a hapless victim and tossing them into another bandit who momentary had their staff raised with a strange green light emanating from it. Whatever they were doing was cut short as the two thugs collided with one another. Shirly on the other hand seemed to have things under control where she was as two thugs that faced off with her appeared frustrated and battered, nearly struggling to stand while she had an extended baton pointed in their direction, holding it like some kind of rapier. She even held the stance of a fencer too. Like Tess, Shirly was the only other member of his team that held any kind of training before enlisting though her's skills were clearly in the sport of fencing and she was damn good at keeping her opponents off-balance, with every strike and motion being textbook. Even the baton she held as it was extended even resembled a rapier, especially how elongated and narrow it became as it deployed. One of the thugs challenged her again, only to be smacked in the face repeatedly until they collapsed. The remaining foe seemed to shake in uncertainty, unsure how else they could proceed.
Garrett was just about to look for Meisha until he could hear a strangely familiar blood-curdling scream of a man whose wrist, and by association, their arm, was bending and straining on the precipice from being twisted, dislocated, and broken; somehow all at the same time. He winced, not so much from the screaming, but just imagining Meisha who likely was putting the poor man through one of her 'signature' wrist locks. Beyond all reasoning, she got the move down wrong but got it wrong in a way that made her unwilling captives undergo excruciating pain to the point that they shrivel up and immediately cease hostilities, sometimes even begging for their release.
Garrett didn't even want to look in her direction yet she was able to see him idling, "Boss! I caught a prisoner!" she exclaimed, sounding off as if she was proud of her contribution to the mass struggle.
Still not really wanting to look in her direction, or more specifically to the bandit in her clutches, he simply gave an awkward and unsteady thumbs up, before running off towards the next bandit he could get his hands on.
