<thud thud thud>
Bazel was awoken by the sound of someone pounding on his dormitory door.
A muffled feminine voice shouted through his door, “Sergeant Bazel, get up! We got orders!”
Bazel slowly came to, shaking off the stupor from the team’s wild drinking contest last night. Glancing out the window, the sky was just turning fiery orange with the first rays of dawn starting to peak over the horizon.
“I’m up,” he moaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “why in the goddess’ name are they activating us? Wasn’t Sigma company supposed to be on standby this week?”
“Brass is in a fuss sir. All standby units are being recalled. We got a briefing in 30 mikes.”
“Well I’m fucking up! Go give the rest of the team the bad news.”
“Copy sir.”
As the footsteps left his door, Bazel sat up from his cot and stumbled to his head to relieve himself. When he started shaving he was shocked to discover that perhaps last night was more wild than usual as he now had some sort of bird wreathed in flames tattooed onto his previously blank chest. He tried to remember when and where he had gotten it, but everything after the second pub was a blur.
The face staring back at him in the mirror did not feel like someone he knew anymore. His short cut black hair was starting to gray and his once vibrant orange eyes looked weary and worn. A long fresh pink scar stretched from his left cheek bone to just below his hairline, marring his now sun worn features. It was a gift, courtesy of some shrapnel, from a new Triacanth artillery shell that used an experimental tech to negate magic shields.
Their unit had just finished their 3-month rotation on the border performing search and rescue and really needed to blow off some steam last night. Conflict had been heavy this time, and they lost 9 good brothers and sisters.
After cleaning up, he slipped into his uniform and stepped into a frenzy. The hallway was full of soldiers and admin personnel running to and fro, like someone kicked over a mound of insects. Bazel couldn’t help but wonder if the Triacanth Alliance to the north had finally lost their minds and gone on a full-scale offensive.
Leaving the dormitory wing and walking into the main building; the buzz of activity was even crazier. He caught the aroma of java from one of the aides headed his way and he swiftly pilfered one of the cups from the tray, ignoring the confused shouts behind him. As he took a sip of the scalding lifesaving concoction he caught a glimpse of Zeta company’s sergeant; Noah Wolfe also headed toward the briefing room.
“SHOWERS!” Bazel shouted in the crowded lobby. The cacophony of voices silenced as everyone was startled by his yelling. Noah “Showers” Wolfe was a giant of a man, with a clean blonde haircut, rich green eyes,with a demeanor and presence that were quite imposing.Even the most grizzled veterans would shrink around him.
Wolfe didn’t stop and instead seemed to speed up; to which Bazel cursed, passed his coffee to a staring aide and ran to catch him. When he caught up to him and grabbed him by his shoulder Wolfe stopped before he slapped his palm into his own face groaning.
“Damnit Bazel, why are you always the first thing I’ve gotta deal with on a bad day?” Wolfe uttered as he turned to face the biggest thorn in his side.
“Showers, first of all, rude much?! Second of all, it’s because the goddess is obviously watching over you in some manner, and finally, do you have any clue why we have all been recalled?”
“First of all,” Wolfe said mockingly, “I love what you’ve done with the face.I heard the Triacanth’s couldn’t sleep soundly after seeing your ugly face and decided to do some surgery for free. Second, I’m just as fucking clueless as you are right now. Zeta is still completing survival training for our rookies, and we are nowhere near ready for an operation.”
“Showers you son of a bitch, you know I got this scar when I suffered a kitchen accident making breakfast in bed for your mo-…”
A sharp hard jab to his right kidney and a familiar chilling presence behind him quickly silenced his prior line of banter.
“Goddess be damned Mouse, why are you always the first thing I’ve gotta deal with on a bad day?” Bazel spun around to face Margaret “Mouse” Ricci, the company’s admin corporal and primary communication mage. She was a short tan skinned woman, with her black hair tied back in a ponytail and black square framed glasses resting on her currently scowling face and slit piercing blue eyes.
“Sergeant Bazel, I apologize for tripping into you, as Isee you are currently standing in the middle of the lobby shouting and interrupting all these extremely busy people instead of heading to the briefing as ordered.” Mouse looked around the room as she spoke the last part, everyone refusing to meet her gaze, and quickly going back to whatever task they were accomplishing before stopping to gawk.
“Corporal Ricci, if you ever get tired of working for this moron, just say the word and I’ll request a transfer for you to Zeta company immediately,” Wolfe offered.
“Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve made a promise. You see I was fixing breakfast for his mother the other day, after a vigorous romp around with her, and she asked me to please keep her idiot son alive.”
“Ah how unfortunate, but still, my offer stands.” Wolfe quickly glanced at his watch, “We should be going, we don’t want to be late to the briefing for whatever has this place in such a buzz.”
Mouse and Showers both started walking once again towards the briefing room leaving Bazel behind.
“Hey wait you two! You both said a lot I can’t stand for right now! Get back here you shits!” Bazel shouted running after them.
When the trio arrived at the briefing room they spotted Captain Dixon speaking with an intelligence officer up near the podium. Looking for empty seats, a waving arm drew their attention, Mouse instantly waved back as Bazel noticed the individual waving was Shower’s communication mage Sofia “Blizzard” Arnaud. She was a taller pale elf with short silver hair and red eyes. Her and Mouse coud always be found together and Bazel was almost certain they were either twins lost at birth or the universe was crueler than he dared question.
Mouse and Blizzard began chatting about his company’s escapades last night as the group had moved over to sit down next to the seats Blizzard had kept for them. Their conversation sparked his memory from this morning.
“Hey Mouse,” he interrupted, “things last night got a bit wild after pub number two, do you happen to remember how I got a tattoo?”
Mouse’s face turned confused as she remembered the evening, “Sergeant Bazel, I dropped you off at your room myself and was with you all evening, you never got a tattoo last night that I saw…”
Blizzard and Showers both looked at one another and started to laugh cry.
Blizzard was the first to speak up.
“Show us Bazel! Where is it? What is it? We have to know. Did you get a tramp stamp? I bet it’s a tramp stamp! Take your shirt off right now!” Blizzard rapid fired, while reaching over and trying to get his shirt untucked. A loud throat clearing and a gaze from Captain Dixon stopped all pursuit.
“I’m glad to see Zeta and Iota companies so lively this morning, when you return from this operation maybe I’ll find you all a wonderful and healthy outlet for all that energy. Everyone, briefing begins in 5.Lets maintain some decorum until then shall we?”
The next 5 minutes were excruciatingly silent as no one wanted to antagonize Captain Dixon further and end up on detail like Zeta and Iota. As the intel officer and the Captain finished speaking, the Captain gestured for the lights to be dimmed. The intel officer made a few gestures and the rune table lit up, revealing a 3d map of a city. Captain Dixon stepped out from behind the podium to address the gathered company sergeants.
“Listen up, we’ve got a real shit show on our hands here,” he said, turning to point at the map. “What you see here are the Fenix city ruins. At approximately 2145 hours last night we received a distress call from an Eagle class cruiser that was providing overwatch for a research team conducting operations in the ruins shortly before all communications with the cruiser were lost. The distress call said they were under heavy ground fire and had lost all primary power. According to Intel, the cruiser’s distress beacon is still active and transmitting.”
“We have no reports of known enemy forces near these ruins and border observation posts have not spotted anything unusual in months near that region. The research team was composed of several high value assets and it is imperative we get them out of there if they are still alive or we are all going to get strung up by our balls. Operation codename is “Fenix Down.” Communication mages are to keep comms to an absolute minimum in case of interception. We go in hard and fast, get them out of there and hopefully give whoever did this some hell on the way out. I expect companies armed and mounted up aboard ships ready to depart in 60 mikes, any questions?”
”No Sir!” everyone shouted.
“Dismissed!”
