LDF Landcruiser Docks
City Outskirts
Ourvan, Landren Capital
07:30 hours
Mid-Summer
Colonel Silverwind Blade stood in the shade of the Parvan's Claw's loading ramp. Even this early in the morning, the sun was blazing. Dust had blown up from the cement and asphalt, stirred by the passage of trucks, mobile cranes and loading GEARs, and it tickled his nose and tangled through his fur. At least in the shadows of the doorway to the cavernous vehicle bay there was some respite.
To one side of him, the procession of vehicles in and out of the cut-size Land-vessel had slowed. Now, it was more a case of multiple vehicles being parked and unloaded at once, more than many streaming in and out.
The GEARs had already arrived, maneuvered in on the back of GEAR-hauler flatbed trucks, and moved into position in their stalls in the hold. Maintenance crews were already at work, carrying out routine evaluations and maintenance as per the norms.
Casting his single eye back to his PADD, he tapped a single icon the the devices glossy black face, and a holographic display shivered into existence in the thin air a few millimeters above the surface. Angular Arvaran script displayed the names of the team he was waiting for, his own name at the top.
Footsteps on metal decking approached, and he looked back over his shoulder, and straightened as he saw a female deer approach. Around the same age as him, she carried it with an air of easy elegance and refinement, but had humor and warmth in her expression.
"At ease, mister," she said as she stepped to his side, staying in the shadows alongside him. Her uniform was on of the 'cruisers crew, and specificially of a captain, but the fox knew her well enough to stand easy beside her, and with a familiarity he knew she appreciated.
"How are things coming along?" he asked her, glancing back at the bay, and then to her, as she followed his look.
"Well - we'll be ready to get underway within an hour. We're just waiting on your people now. Any sign of them?"
"Not yet. They're all due to turn up now and get the tour. The chopper and it's pilot should be arriving around the same time too... Rhilly think this is gonna work?"
"Combined arms is what we've - the LDF, I mean - always practiced, and the same for the rest of the Arvaran militaries for the most part. Taking it to the next level like this; it's a risk, but the rewards stand to be pretty great. A small, flexible unit, with powerful firepower and high mobility. It has a lot of possibilities".
"Let's hope so. We took a bit of a risk with some of the people we pulled in too. Guess we're gonna have to live wi' that though."
"If anyone can make it work, you can. You know what it's like, after all. You've had it tough enough".
The foxes lips pressed into a tight line for a moment, before he nodded sharply and uttered a simple "Yup" in response.
"Let me know when they're aboard. Good luck". She squeezed his shoulder briefly, before stepping away to observe and supervise a bit of equipment placement, while Blade turned his attention back to the busy quayside, his tail twitching in the early-morning heat.
Who would arrive first? What would they be like in person - he'd read the files, but the reality was always different to the cut-and-dried words in a file on a screen.
Whatever they were like, it would be his job to try and mold them and coax them into a unit that was capable of working together, no matter what their divisive qualities or affecting backgrounds might be.
The LDF was a melting pot, much as Landren itself was. People were trained and taught, and they knew the ways of war and soldiering, but that wasn't enough to work well, to really be effective. That took trust and understanding. A closeness and familiarity that took time, and experience. Would this unit be like that? Eventually maybe, but as he reviewed their service records one more time, he felt a certain sense of optimism; it'd be rough and there'd be tears and shouting before it was through, but one way or another, he felt that, somehow, things might work out. Which was good, because he had a sense of dread that, as he looked off toward the mouth of the Landcruiser Harbour, and out into the distance, where the patchwork quilt of fields began to turn brown and dusty and further still, into the places where the wastes took over and the country turned into the rough and raw Badlands, something was brewing.
The fur on his tail fluffed up briefly, and a shiver ran down his back - for a moment, he felt as though something was looking back at him, which was absurd - and then he turned back and squinted at the head of the quay, and tried to make out any approaching persons that matched the mug-shots on his PADD's display.