(timeline is the same as that in the signup topic. If you want to curse, write down the censored version of the words and [*desc=][/desc] the real version inside the text box. You can god-mod other characters. Killing other characters is strictly
prohibited unless I say otherwise. And now to start things off!)
(Grenexus POV)
Grenexus cursed. The
darned Industrial Powers had finally made their move. He took off his headset, yelling at the rest of his squad. While he was by far the youngest commander in the army, the Genetic Alliance army people had seen his innate skills as a tactician, and put his in command of his own three person squad, consisting of an Asian, probably Democratic Kingdom of Japan in origin, who looked to be about 27 but claimed he was much older, although he didn't act like it, as well as an 11 year old who called himself "Muse," although he seemed to be much older than 11, he claimed he was that age, and Grenexus chose to believe him; distrust bred fear, fear bred hatred, and hatred caused death.
What a strange squad I have mused Grenexus. He and his squad were based in the southern N.A.A., in the Missouri Tip, the only part of the entire Midwest Federation, and even the entire N.A.A. that was southward of the top of a component state of the Mexan Empire called New Mexico.
They had been based here to ward of Mexan advances into the N.A.A., and they were doing their job to their utmost, and had fought off nearly an entire platoon of Mexan soldiers so far from their fortified base, but their ammo was running out, and food supplies were almost non-existent. If it weren't for his naturally cool attitude, Grenexus would have panicked.
(Temen's POV)
Temen ground his teeth in frustration. The only thing stopping the advance of the Industrial Powers into less civilized lands was
one squad, consisting of merely
three people! Slowly he was beginning to realize the strategy of the Genetic Alliance. Where the Industrial Powers preferred to barrel through with sheer
might apparently, the Genetic Alliance preferred to use small, compact, teams of highly trained soldiers specializing in specific areas, each to do a particular job.
Admittedly, their strategy appears to be working, but that doesn't mean that we haven't elite soldiers of our own! he thought.
He ran up to his commanding officer and saluted him. "Sir, permission to make a quick attack using my hopper?" while, for the most part, the army had issued him new equipment, they had let him keep his hopper, seeing the wisdom of letting him use a machine he was already used to. The officer scratched his bearded chin, before saying "You may... but be careful, the men like you, and having you die to would impact morale even more." Temen nodded, slightly overwhelmed with the knowledge. He moved away from the officer and to the Hopper, turning the key in the ignition. He saluted the officer again. "I'll see you again when they're all dead," Temen said. The hopper rumbled, and Temen lightly pressed the acceleration pedal, throwing it into the air.
