“Were you even out there?” the crew chief asked as Adrian descended from the cockpit of his inactive GEAR. Adrian rolled his eyes and took a few steps away to observe the L-68. He frowned and wiggled his nose. The GEAR did look about the same as it was when he’d first set out for the exercise, save for a little dirt and mud stuck onto the lower legs.
“I’m a sniper,” he said as he pulled off his helmet, “If I’ve got any dings on the hull, I should consider a different career choice. And it makes your job easy.” He sighed and ran a hand up his ears, smoothing out the fur after his helmet set it standing on end. He looked down at his palm and sucked on his teeth. “Ah, great, I’m shedding,” he mumbled to himself, earning a glance from a few members of the tech crew looking over his GEAR. “Oh, sorry. Uh, just…grab some sand and rub it over the paintjob, that’ll make it look used.” Adrian started toward the common room. “Also, the tracks took a thrashing, you could check those, I guess.”
Cats and dogs and foxes…that’s, like, ninety percent of this country’s population, isn’t it? Adrian wasn’t terribly impressed by the newcomers to the squad, if only because they felt so…average. After his transfer from the Long Patrol, a squad composed entirely of a single species, the, “variety,” he experienced out in the real world was somewhat exciting. But, after a short period of time, the edge dulled and he began to take notice of patterns. He was beginning to clue in on just how strange his previous posting had been. His ears swiveled around, eavesdropping against their master’s will. I should go get changed.