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March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


She had been hoping he would take the bait, but unfortunately for her Myk regained his calm. She answered his musings with a shrug, the lollipop stick still twirling between her fingers as she waved off any concern of moral decay.

“It’s easier if you just treat it as a job. Don’t invest yourself in it more than you need to, you watch your back and your buddies, everything else comes after.”

She checked her watch, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve got plenty of time. What’s up?”
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


Oh he was mad mad, whoops.

Fuka listened to Wunderkind’s diatribe with all the easy passiveness of a captive audience, riding out the emotion-laden rant even as she flashed back to her own childhood. He sounded almost like her father had when someone got him started on the Soviets, taking geopolitical reality and turning it into a fantasy conflict of good versus evil.

Fuka didn’t find that very helpful. She knew her side and its faults, and she tried to avoid falling into the trap of assuming her team did no wrong and the others did nothing right. But at the end of the day, her opinion mattered as much as Myk’s did: zilch. They existed to drop bombs on designated targets and blow up enemy airfields, regardless of their trust (or lack thereof) in the N/UN.

That said, she was bored and kind of an asshole, so she kept prodding to see if the whiz kid could hold his own in a conversation.

“I mean, what do ‘they’ want for ‘us’ that isn’t what ‘we’ want for ‘them’? End of the day the N/UN is doing the same thing as China or the Centras, or Russia for that matter: get people on their side and away from the other, by hook or by crook.”
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


He had a hell of a story, and Fuka wasn’t sure she liked it. You could get away with recruiting a kid right out of high school to be a grunt because being a grunt didn’t require much in the way of brainpower; there were plenty of soldiers who served admirably and were also knuckle-draggers. Becoming a pilot was a whole different story. It was a jet for fuck’s sake, not a Charger being sold for triple the market price.

And to make things worse, Wunderkind was principled, principled in a way that smacked to Fuka of naivety, a trait she had very little time for.

“You can say ‘Russia’, they won’t hear you.”

She kept her voice light even as she gave him an impish grin, flicking the stick end over end with her prosthetic arm, working to keep her dexterity up.

“Regardless, what makes you think they’ve got anything to do with your buddy? Not to put too fine a point on it but that whole region is a shitshow, our pals in Moscow barely have a government. I’d say that when Ukraine is nearing non-existence on its own, riots might pop up organically.”
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


The boy sure did put out a lot of words! Fuka had given him one sentence and he had given her a breakdown of his status, how his parents were doing, a philosophical statement about the meaning of life and then a question. The senior pilot watched his display of verbal acrobatics with quiet amusement, chewing on her sucker until it was her turn to speak.

“There’s not much to tell. Army brat from a political family, was a Ranger after the Heavenstrike until I got my arm blown up, Navy pilot after that and now I’m here. I’m more interested in you.”

A final crunch of her teeth reduced the hard candy to sugary dust, Fuka removing the stick from her mouth and gesturing with it towards Myk.

“You look barely old enough to shave, what service were you in before this? You see any action?”
I’m interested! Depends on what my time looks like by the time I sit to make a sheet tho
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


She gave the boss a silent thumbs up as he explained their security detail, deciding to hold off on asking the questions his answer had spawned. As far as she knew Shattered Steel's security forces were competent enough to ward off other PMCs, but Malta was likely a different question. The days of the Crusades were long gone. How likely was it that such a little island so reliant on outsiders even before the Heavenstrike would be capable of standing up to a determined assault?

They would never need to find out, provided that Fuka and the rest of Cobalt did their jobs. Hopefully, the 'raiders' would get the hint after a few of them were sent to watery graves, and if not, well, it was good that her pay wasn't based on how long it took to pacify a threat.

Scott gave them the order to fuck off and Fuka obliged, finishing her doughnut as she tramped out the door. Had she known they were relocating only hours after her arrival she would have just brought her bags into the briefing but hey, that was life.
------
It took a little bit of time to backtrack to her very temporary quarters, but having simply tossed everything into a pile, she didn't have to bother cleaning the place up. That left her plenty of time to wander aimlessly, something she had long since gotten used to. Regardless of branch or organization, hurry up and wait was the cornerstone of any military career.

She hadn't been looking for anyone in particular, simple chance steering her to the same bench as the kid from the briefing. She sat without waiting for an invite, looking straight ahead as she lazily unwrapped a lollipop.

"Hey there wunderkind, how're you doing?"

@Letter Bee
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas


The boss, Scott, seemed decent enough. It was hard to determine with so little information to go off but for the time being Fuka had him pegged as Adequate. Not some dickhead fresh out of training looking to earn a reputation but not the most experienced leader either. Thus far she felt neither good nor bad about putting her life in his hands and taking his in her own, which suited her well enough.

Some of her other comrades, well...

She raised an eyebrow at the mention of a "certain nation", the runt's dancing around the word almost amusing had his questions not literally been answered in the spiel.

"The man said 'particular origins unknown' and 'depart at 13:00'. Presumably, that means we don't know who's involved and that we're deploying to Malta...at 13:00."

Fuka let the faintest bit of sarcasm slip into her voice, taking another bite of her donut before chiming in.

"Are we going to be the only ones defending this place, or will we have friendlies?"
March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas
10:38 Hours Local Time


Fuka didn't prefer to be punctual so much as she didn't know how to be anything but punctual. Any event, appointment, or outing required her presence not just on the dot but before it, a habit that followed her throughout her career. Showing up early let her collect her thoughts and focus on whatever task lay ahead.

But sometimes she had no control over her timeliness. Sometimes there was traffic, or an accident, or some new order that superseded her old ones. And sometimes a piece of shit transport pilot stuck his head up his ass and showed up late. She had been in Florida to get her arm recalibrated when the reassignment to the Cobalt Shadows had gone through, and she had been reassured that she would be able to make it to her first briefing on time, provided her diagnostic visit didn't run over.

The talk with the prosthetist finished up at 8:30 in the morning; she had her new pain medication in hand by 8:45 and the puddle jumper she was supposed to get on shown up at nine as promised she would have touched down at the Forge around 10. Instead it showed up at 9:30 and now she was late.

It was a bad start to her new assignment, but what could she do about it? The Navy had neglected to teach her time manipulation so in situations like these she could only sprint off the plane to find her quarters, dump her bags and then jog off again in search of the briefing room.

She slowed her run to a stroll as she hit the final stretch of hallway, walking in to see the gathered crowd. Her new squadron it seemed, with the bossman up front by the monitor and a-Holy hell, how old was that kid? He looked like he was maybe eighteen! Standards were different in a private venture of course, but recruiting teens right out of high school like a mall recruitment office was a bit much.

Any misgivings Fuka had were pushed aside by the presence of sugar, her mechanical hand snatching a donut from the box before she took a seat in front of the briefing display.



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