Sergeant Tonya is in her 'office', adjacent the barracks-she decided to take a small unused maintenance shed, complete with government issue splintery desk, and wobbly chair. She's currently reviewing her personnel dossier with her feet up, wondering why they gave a fresh faced kid the rank of corporal in her squad. Apparently he hadn't even fired shot in anger yet, but he had apparently got good marks. Sure.
Tonya rubbed her forehead and blew out some air. What she wouldn't give for a can of doc-in-the-box...too old for this, sure. It hadn't been easy training herself back up. Six years as a civilian, and after having given birth to three children-did a number on her body, though she had never gone entirely to rust, like some. It had taken alot of effort to get back into shape, though. To stop drinking so much. Whiskey and soda were not conducive to proper soldiering, she think the book said. It was like trying to catch mud in a colander, though-she knew how much she gained back, it would eventually drain away...not half as fast as she had been, she knew that, and never would be again. Couldn't just rely on pure reflex, like she had once...had to think things through...her mind, at least, seemed intact.
But, it wasn't like her to brood on what she couldn't do anymore...
She continued her perusal. Had a decent mix of fresh faces and old hands. The name Jund stood out to her-one of the former Spiders. So did Mydoki, one of her old students. Only a girl, really. Tonya herself hadn't even been that young when she first piloted a mech...there was also Machinehead, whom she had requested personally. She knew Rumman. Everyone knew Rumman. He was a good man to have on your squad. Solid, dependable.
She supposed it was time to round everyone up and get to business. Tonya knew that to some of them she was a sort of legend, the more gullible ones, anyway...Tonya had been a sort of celebrity, and still was, to some. A hero, or something like it.
They had always made more of her then she had wanted. She was in truth just a short, seemingly non-threatening woman sliding comfortably into old age, with tired eyes and a bad left leg (courtesy of a grateful nation). Sharp eyes would note her graceful balance and superb poise, however-and the fact she wasn't quite as feeble, or non-threatening at a second glance. Her eyes were still a bright blue, cold in a way, but they could be charming if she tried-eyes the sort the fellas always commented her on, back when that had mattered
Tonya settled her restless hand on the desk. She knew they needed heroes, though. It led a certain dignity to the whole mad affair. And it was mad, no doubt about that. There was no reason for Terralba to be in this war...no reason at all...but, those thoughts she kept to herself. Naysayers were noted and remembered, and if she was here, the least she could do was hope to bring some people back home alive. Keep the war away from the homeland. It was mad to start, but now they had to win-there was no question of that, either.
It was an irony, she reflected, that as she had become a better soldier, she had realized the reasons she had been fighting for were less and less important.
...
She entered the barracks with conduct becoming a Terralban officer, quickstep in full uniform, polished buttons and all-her uniform was similar to Sean's, but her black coat was larger (and a nicer weave) reaching down to brush the floor-and she had a three tiered chevron peaked with a gear symbol on the left sleeve-signifying her rank in the mech corps. Instead of a peaked cap, she sported a black beret. Really, it was a bit hot for all that, but first rule in the core was that you only complained up the chain of command...not down.
"Corporal Hosier, front and center." She announced, her voice calm and steady.
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Topic: 25th Mech Squad - IC Thread [IN-BETWEEN MISSIONS] (Read 18313 times)