"That's a wrap, Clark."
Michael told Clark to stop filming for the day after the Colonel had left the premises and back to HQ. The BBC reporter told the cameraman to head to the Cheers store and get something to eat and drink before they rest back in their quarters.
They need to go through the footage and correspond with one of the nearest BBC branch offices in Africa or in the Middle East later on.
"Least it's night time now."
Michael went off towards the convenience store after Clark went off ahead a few seconds ago.
Show an affirming flame
Amelia was there in the store, and she gave the journalists a somewhat tired wave; she was once again in her favorite khaki drill, her Malaysian fatigues having been sent off to be washed, ironed, and starched. (After her armory visit and the AAR, she'd spent a few hours looking through Harrawian uniform regulations on whether dress swords were allowed for junior officers attending diplomatic functions.) "Wotcha, mates," she said. "Welcome to the mercenary beat. Plannin' on ridin' shotgun next time we go into the bush?"
Charlie Stross's cheerful, optimistic predictions for 2017, part one of three.
"Ah hello."
Michael greeted Amelia once she got inside the convenience store.
"Most probably, depending on the circumstances. I still need to wait for approval from the colonel."
The colonel sat in his office, getting a phone call from the Ministry of Defense regarding the encrypted laptop. They sent him various bits of data from it into his military e-mail account for convenience.
What in Allah's name does the HIJ have with a laptop like this?
The colonel opened the briefing report and noted that it has plans regarding the ports of Harrawi.
So they really are getting desperate.
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
After her talk with Mellisa Brittaney made her way back to her room, pushing the idea of the Islamist Jihad from her mind and thinking to unwind a little before getting some sleep. The old Samsung tablet she had packed along for the trip seemed like just the thing, and grimaced that it was right where she had left it, on the unmade bed and untouched from looking at it the previous day. It was not the first time she had played around browsing the internet in bed but actually sleeping with it was probably not a habit to get into, and Brittaney thought to read up on what was happening in the world.
"What's this?" she wondered, pulling up a tab. What the former Marine had brought up was a discussion on how the armed forces appeared to civilians, and saw that there were new comments added since she last checked. Reading for a moment Brittaney decided it wasn't worth the time and effort and browsed to something else, controversy over asylum seekers fleeing conflict zones.
Well that's to be expected. She had a very simplistic view of the problem, the alternate solutions that could be used or the ones each country tries in the hopes it's the best one. It was too serious an issue and brought up Youtube, saw one of the videos was on the worst Simpsons episodes after the series had finally ended for good and read that one of the top picks from viewers was how bad the military were portrayed.
"This is stuffed," Brittaney felt like writing after reading the comments for a moment. Sliding the tablet across the floor and out of the way she thought sleep sounded like a very good idea indeed, and climbed into bed trying to picture a more positive outlook of soldiers than what she just read.
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Mark went back to his room and closed the door. Now ready to sleep, he looked outside to see that most of the personnel have returned to turn in for the night.
The only exception are the M Ps and the control tower personnel, now going to work the graveyard shift.
Wonder what's going to happen next?
For now, he went to sleep and allowed it to claim him for the entire night.
By night, most of the base personnel were already asleep, except for those working on the graveyard shift. Even at that, it mostly consisted of the locals.
For two days, the base would be on non-operational status as they were busy preparing for the arrival of Singaporean VIPs to arrive and claim the remains of their deceased countrymen in HMB Abdurashiabon.
Two days have passed at HMB Abdurashiabon. All of the soldiers stationed, both volunteers and enlisted Harrawians alike, were order to prepare for the arrival of the Singaporean Foreign Minister. His plane was due to arrive in an hour. As such, the base ordered all those involved in the hostage rescue mission to dress up appropriately and wear their sand berets.
I guess it's a good time that I woke up early. Mark had finished from his second trip to the toilet two hours after he had his breakfast. For starters, he ran towards the motor pool/hangar since it's the designated spot for everyone to assemble.
The Man in Black
Roland reported to his place of duty with a freshly pressed dress uniform and beret and looked around for the other soldiers on the reception detail.
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —Faramir
Show an affirming flame
"Platoon, fall in for inspection," Sgt. Romilly bellowed. In a moment the somewhat bleary-eyed cavalry platoon formed up, staring woodenly ahead as the lieutenant stalked along their ranks, sword on her hip and beret on her head, with no sign of recognition—despite the fact that Amelia had worked them to the bone for two days. (To her immense displeasure, there had been no time for patrols and route marches outside the wire, and precious little for action drills—it was all cleaning up and polish, brush, and blanco for inspection.)
For her part Amelia found little to fuss about now; what had needed to be polished was now gleaming brilliantly, and were it not for the wide variety in ages, skin colors, heights, and weights, they could have passed muster in any national army.
"At ease," she said at last, and the uniformity of fixed expressions went away. "Ain't bad, troopers."
Far in the back there were their armored cars, the few bullet scars having been repaired and painted over, and the mechanics looking nervous in their best uniforms. They weren't technically in her unit, but the normally-messy garage could've hosted a general's inspection at any moment, with all manners of unseemly bits and improbable amounts of red paint all hidden away.
Charlie Stross's cheerful, optimistic predictions for 2017, part one of three.
The Man in Black
Roland grinned as he spotted the cavalry platoon under inspection. I don't miss that.
After a second, another thought appended itself to the first. Wonder if she's going to organize them by height. Would look better.
edited 22nd Sep '15 4:23:03 PM by Wysp
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —Faramir
A Harrawian MP officer ran down the motor pool/hangar to inform everyone that the plane bringing in the VI Ps is now preparing to land.
The control tower later cleared a Royal Harrawian Air Force C-130G aircraft preparing to touch down momentarily.
The colonel was now approaching the building itself. Flanked alongside by his XO, they wore their maroon berets.
<"Make sure everyone's in."> The colonel told the XO in Harrawian.
<"Yes, sir."> The XO replied. He marched in to the hangar. "Everyone involved in the hostage rescue operation! Fall in!"
The colonel adjusted the shades as he stared at the incoming aircraft.
Mark adjusted his sand beret before he fell in line with the others. Although he was told by a volunteer that he should fall in by rank. He did so and lined up and stood in attention with the others who were ranked Captain or below in their last service.
Jacques adjusted his beret as well, falling in line and standing at attention.
"Gotta make a good first impression, ne?"
The RHAF C-130 began to make its descent on the main runway. The cargo plane was now being taxied towards the direction of the main hangar.
Harrawian Army M Ps stationed were now ready to take position as the honor guard. Standing nearby the parked jeep was the Singaporean engineer, who was well, but had some bandages on his face and arms.
The parked Type 73 jeeps containing the caskets that had the bodies of the deceased ISD agents.
After a minutes of navigating the runways, the C-130 taxied in front of the motor pool/hangar facility with the rear ramp opening up.
<"Present Arms!"> The Harrawian M Ps did a rifle salute after the ramp opened up.
The volunteers saluted as well when the colonel stood in front of the ramp and saluted the incoming VI Ps. They consisted of two Singaporean Chinese men, dressed in suits, ties and Oxford shoes. They were accompanied by Harrawian Army officer and a Harrawian man, who was also dressed in a suit.
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
Zombies. Brittaney mused about the things that came in dreams. And...ice cream? What the hell? Not having a clue where that came from she checked the time, seeing that she had more than enough rest but still felt tired, and saw that there was a message for her on the tablet. Before she could check it she remembered the Singapore government were flying in, they were collecting the hostages from the previous operation. Thinking everything else should wait Brittaney checked to see what she should wear...there was the combat outfit the Harrawis supplied her with and to the best of her knowledge nothing else.
"For VI Ps?" That wouldn't do at all, and searched through the pockets quickly thinking there would be a note, but instead found a beret. That, she guessed, would have to do, and regarded the flight suit for a moment, trying to decide whether the formal Royal Marines uniform might be close enough, being a volunteer.
Twenty minutes later she marched to the hanger, smiling at those who looked in her direction and adjusting the beret as she went past. She wanted to look her best, and hoped that what she picked would do the job.
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The colonel directed the Singaporean foreign minister to the volunteers in formation. Nearby, the BBC crew filmed the colonel talking to him, the ambassador and the other VIPs on the volunteers' work in securing the hostage.
The XO ordered them to cease with the salute, but to stand at attention.
The Singaporean foreign minister and the ambassador went to the volunteers and shook their heads one by one. The men, in their 40s with short, combed black hair, each thanked them personally for saving the hostage.
"It was no problem, Mr. Ambassador. Mr. Minister. I only did my job to save the hostage from further danger." Mark was among the volunteers to shake hands with the two men. He noted that they had a good grip on their hands.
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
Brittaney wasn't sure what anyone else thought but felt she looked quite smart in the navy trousers, tie and yellow shirt that made up the Royal Marine uniform. It might not have been what the Harrawi military wanted her to wear, if it wasn't no one said anything or she didn't remember, and no criticism had been passed now. The fact she towered over just about everyone else probably kept something from being said as well.
"It's an honor sir," she said to the VI Ps in her typical very polite way. Brittaney was tempted to go into detail about the mission but thought in this case less is more. Much the same as she didn't even have the full United States Marine dress uniform, there was no reason not to have it, Brittaney was a former Marine after all, but she thought that would have been pretentious and left it.
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After the VIPs shook hands with all of the volunteers involved in the hostage rescue mission, they moved to the side and watched the MPs prepare to handle the coffins of the deceased ISD agents with the Singaporean flag draped over it.
A moment of silence was felt in the motor pool/hangar as the MPs marched slowly towards the C-130.
"Salute!" The XO shouted as the volunteers were ordered to salute.
Mark saluted as the MPs passed by them and were now proceeding towards the cargo plane to have the coffins loaded.
edited 7th Oct '15 5:25:54 AM by Ominae
(GM post)
After the coffins were loaded up on the C-130 plane, the Singaporean ambassador began to speak before the BBC crew in front of the assembled volunteers.
"On behalf of the government of Singapore, I would like to thank the Harrawian Volunteer Brigade for their courage in saving the hostage in spite of the dangers placed upon them."
The Singaporean foreign minister presented to the ambassador a small black box. With it in hand, the ambassador opened it up to reveal a medal inside
.
"With the authority bestowed by Singapore, I present to the brigade the Medal for Distinguished Act."
The colonel shook hands with the ambassador before he said. "On behalf of the Government of Harrawi, I accept the commendation of the Medal for Distinguished Act to the volunteer brigade."
"Whoa..." One of the volunteers whispered on the side. "I don't believe it. We got a medal for this op."
"First time I got a medal in my life." Another volunteer murmured. "And that wasn't back in my days when I was with the army in Australia."
"Of course," The ambassador added. "I'll see to it that the volunteers who participated with get the medals as well."
edited 7th Oct '15 5:29:31 AM by Ominae
Show an affirming flame
As the ceremony wound on Amelia stood with the patience and stillness of a rather small statue, a bead of sweat rolling down her chin the only indication of life.
A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon, the thought occurred to her; it was banished almost immediately. After all, her lads hadn't expected any decorations for that afternoon's work, and their role hadn't called for any unusual display of skill or valor. It was just as well: however skilled individual troopers may have been, they as yet lacked the cohesion and coordination necessary for a really fine fighting machine, the attunement with their mechanical mounts and with each other, the cavalry camaraderie born of shared experiences. Just as well that their introduction to combat as a unit had been relatively easy; it could have been otherwise.
The memory set her scalp itching again along the length of scar hidden under her beret. She twitched minutely, and tried not to recall the circumstances, and without moving her head glared at her platoon with the unspoken promise of terrible, terrible punishments if anyone broke discipline and talked.
Charlie Stross's cheerful, optimistic predictions for 2017, part one of three.
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
Feels a bit weird being awarded this, Brittaney mused, keeping a straight face as the medals were presented. She felt that she actually had done very little, Brittaney felt she did her best for sure but...Well who can complain about this? The former Marine wasn't going to make an issue of it.
"Never earned one of these before," she said just loud enough to be heard after the ambassador spoke. Again she could have said more, shown more of a reaction, but wanted to be seen as respectful and instead looked at the volunteers, at the Colonel, seeing how they behaved to gauge just how best to fit in.
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The Singaporean foreign minister and ambassador shook hands with the Colonel before they stepped onto the side to talk to the hostage.
"Good work, everyone." The colonel faced the assembled group. "No doubt that your actions will improve our reputation with the public."
Mark stood at attention, but he also wondered what the colonel meant.
"I've been talking to the defense minister and he wants to say his thanks. At the same time, he'll make it a priority to modernize our equipment."
The XO stepped forward and continued where the colonel left off. "For now, we'll conduct normal duties. We'll have scheduled patrols around the area. All air force personnel are off duty for the meantime unless the situation changes. For those assigned to infantry and recon, you'll have your patrol assignments in a few minutes. Any questions?"
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
"Yes." Brittaney had been hanging to ask ever since the operation began, and having been offered jumped at the chance. "Two actually if you wouldn't mind. First, what would you have me do?" As a soldier she was more than capable of patrols both on land and in the air. On the other hand, she had tried to hint that she may be better in an instructional role. "And second, if you know, why would the Islamist Jihad be interested in Singapore engineers? Were they just a target of opportunity or is there some grievance with their government and their efforts against terrorism?" Brittaney by no means claimed to be an expert, based on her knowledge the former Marine leaned towards the former, they just wanted to watch the world burn. But if there was something specific...
Well then, that would be handy for intelligence. Or interrogation. No one had yet offered the opportunity to ply her skills in that area and she wasn't about to put her hand up. The Hawarris, Brittaney expected, had those knowledgeable in gaining information from prisoners of war, maybe not the ways she employed but ones that they found worked. Just the same she was willing to give it a shot if ordered.
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The XO noted Brittaney's question. As such, some murmurs erupted from the ranks.
"Everyone, be quiet." The XO said, glaring at the men to keep quiet. "Let the colonel speak."
"It's a very good question." The colonel said before he explained. "As of now, the HIJ's been on the decline ever since the Presidential Guard took the lead in clearing out most of its bases from the entire country, except for some pockets of resistance. Military intelligence has mentioned it's more likely a chance that came by. As you know, Singapore has been clamping down on Islamic terrorism over the years after 9/11, especially since it as a Muslim minority. They don't want to risk alienation by the non-Muslim majority."
However, the colonel was a bit confused by Brittaney's first question. "As I understand, you volunteered here to be a fighter pilot. Did you participate in ground ops?"
edited 14th Oct '15 5:21:38 AM by Ominae
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
"Do you mean attacks on ground targets or actually serve on the ground?" Brittaney responded. "For the former my primary role was home defense patrols when America began hosting sports and major events again after September 11, and in Afghanistan as a pilot was against ground targets. The Taliban didn't exactly have a world renowned air force."
Though the seats for the Oakland/New York game were incredible, the former Marine didn't add, thinking the verbal levity was enough.
"Still they had airports that needed their runways taken out, camps that needed taken out, it was more sophisticated than caves but old supplies that would have been stored, kept, raided I guess from the ex anti Soviet forces, the Beirut barracks possibly. That experience made me think, hey, Hawarri would have the ground forces, hey, finding out the motives for the terrorist attacks you would have people for, but what about pilots? That was a role I could fill, hole I could fill, whichever description you'd like to use. For the latter the largest operation I was a part of was in the Khyber Pass where we followed a lead on Osama Bin Laden. Naturally he wasn't there, but the experience was invaluable in regards to not just further operations, patrols, guard duty, raids on targets, at one time a sniper, but in showing how dedicated we were to aiding the Northern Alliance in driving out the terror threat that had taken over their country, and when my unit moved on to Iraq that was one of the main reasons why the humanitarian aid I was a part of went so well." It wasn't just the training either, everything from intelligence gathering to how to both play and counter Al Qaeda's tactics were employed. It was about showing that yes America was dedicated to bringing justice responsible for the attacks but knew the Afghanis were suffering as well so help rebuild, sometime literally, winning hearts and minds at least that was the idea. "Um, I think air combat was where you needed the most help so that's what I went with even if I have skills in other areas that you may people for."
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"I'm asking if you actually did serve on the ground." The Colonel made his statement clear. "I don't recall serving women serving in the US Marine Corp in special units, although I'm aware that they have infantry roles, which I am aware of."
Mark stared at the Colonel and wondered what the volunteer pilot was asking the colonel. He decided to weigh himself in.
"Not to be rude in interrupting..." Mark raised a question. "But do we need to know about any upcoming operation?"
The colonel thought about his question carefully before he replied. "Not at the moment. No. As usual, we'll be doing regular patrols for a while until we're called in."
edited 15th Oct '15 7:25:22 PM by Ominae
"A deal with the devil?" Brittaney repeated, reaching the conclusion that if the HIJ were bad then the kind of evil they could be working with would have to be horrendous. "I see."
"This pretty little thing is one of the prime examples of the atrocities I am talking about." Brittaney sat in on a lecture given by Arthur, a ex NSA operative and member of Blackwater. "She had been beaten, tortured, raped and coerced...forced to work with the enemy." She knew that the worst examples were deliberately being used to hammer home the point Arthur was trying to make. "We cannot allow this to happen. More specifically, if this is something you have knowledge of, you cannot allow this to happen."
The worst Brittaney herself had seen was the aftermath of the Taliban after attacking a town in Afghanistan, nothing as extreme as what Arthur had discussed but it had always been a motivating factor in her term of service, whether as a soldier or instructor, or now as a mercenary. "Thank you," she said, "it helps to have that cause to fight for. It doesn't have to be big, simply trying to help the military fight, that's a great cause." At least she thought so.
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