Post by thelori24 on Aug 11, 2016 5:25:40 GMT
War is hell. Truer words had never been spoken.
Ana rubbed her tired eyes, forcing them to stay open just a little longer. The days, the weeks, night into day, it all started to run together after a while. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent, interrupted night’s sleep. Or a solid hot meal. Or even a real shower. She snapped another piece of her rifle back into place, you always took the time to take care of your gear. Mistreated gear, malfunctioning gear could cost you your life. These things had been drilled into her head, learned by rote and repeated to herself as she made herself take that time, when all she desperately wanted to do was lay down and sleep.
The attacks were relentless. They’d tried to hold them off, tried to keep them out of the cities and away from the population centers as much as they could, but it seemed for every one of those things they took out two more came up in its place. And machined never needed to stop. They didn’t need to eat, or rest or sleep. They…just…kept…coming. People on the other hand needed those things, and without them, the more tired and angry and afraid they grew, the more stupid and reckless and desperate they grew. And it was costing them dearly. They were running out of supplies, they were running out of people…they were running out of time. Inch, by desperate, terrible inch, they were losing this battle.
She had lost Jahid…they had been in Basic together, he’d been a man of good humor and unwavering optimism even in the face of all of this, always trying to keep up his team’s spirits. She had lost Yadira…a brilliant tactician, a hell of a leader and a good friend. She’d lost her older sister, a decorated officer who she’d looked up to with all the fervor of a younger sibling who’d wanted to be just like her growing up. She’d lost her father, another decorated officer who she’d adored and wanted nothing more than to make proud. She didn’t have the luxury of time to grieve though, she pushed it down into the heavy, dull ache that sank a little more into her chest every day, mixing with the stubborn anger that kept her going when there seemed to be nothing else to run on. If she could save just one other person, if she could hold them off one more day, one more day might be enough to turn things around. This is what she told herself every day, even staring into the face of something she knew deep inside they couldn’t win. Because she had to tell herself something, and like hell was she going to stand aside and just let those things win. The last piece of the rifle went into place with an angry snap. She could finally get some sleep.
“Lieutenant Amari?”
She looked up to the young man who stood in the doorway, looking as tired as the rest of them in a uniform that didn’t quite fit right.
“Captain Sarraf wants to talk to you.”
She closed her eyes and swore under her breath, something else had either happened or was about to happen.
She made her way to the makeshift office, the man behind the desk looked up as she entered. “Sir? You wanted to speak with me?”
He wasted no time with pleasantries. “Lieutenant. You’ve been made an offer.”
She gave him a confused look, not really in the mood to play games at the moment.
Reaching across the desk he handed her a folder. It was crisp white, new and clean, and looked oddly out of place here. Her hand left a streak of gun oil across it as she took it from him. There were no words on the cover, just an embossed emblem in white and gold, a stylized circle with two points that came up through the center of it. She gingerly opened the cover to look inside.
“They’re calling it the Overwatch Project.” He explained. “Everyone has been fighting the Omnics, but nothing has been unified. This…it’s highly organized, on a global scale. Strike teams, tactics aimed at finally ending this. And they want you.”
She didn’t answer at first, looking over the pages inside. Someone had put a great deal of work into this, even at first glance it looked impressive. She finally looked back up to the other. She didn’t waste time pretending not to know why they’d want her, she knew of her reputation. But what she didn’t like was the idea of abandoning those here.
“Sir, this is impressive…but you need me here.”
“If that works…” he gestured towards the folder. “That ends this. For everyone.”
She couldn’t miss the same quiet desperation in his eyes that seemed to be in everyone’s lately. He didn’t need to add any more to that thought. If this didn’t work…in the end it wouldn’t matter where she was.
“It’s a big decision, if you need time to think about it…”
She thought of her friends, of her family, of her country. Of everyone who’d lost someone to those things, and everyone who stood to lose more. She wanted nothing more than for this to finally be over.
She shook her head. “I want to do this, Sir. When do I leave?”
For the first time in quite a long time, a flicker of hope rose up in her again. Maybe they all stood a chance after all.
Ana rubbed her tired eyes, forcing them to stay open just a little longer. The days, the weeks, night into day, it all started to run together after a while. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent, interrupted night’s sleep. Or a solid hot meal. Or even a real shower. She snapped another piece of her rifle back into place, you always took the time to take care of your gear. Mistreated gear, malfunctioning gear could cost you your life. These things had been drilled into her head, learned by rote and repeated to herself as she made herself take that time, when all she desperately wanted to do was lay down and sleep.
The attacks were relentless. They’d tried to hold them off, tried to keep them out of the cities and away from the population centers as much as they could, but it seemed for every one of those things they took out two more came up in its place. And machined never needed to stop. They didn’t need to eat, or rest or sleep. They…just…kept…coming. People on the other hand needed those things, and without them, the more tired and angry and afraid they grew, the more stupid and reckless and desperate they grew. And it was costing them dearly. They were running out of supplies, they were running out of people…they were running out of time. Inch, by desperate, terrible inch, they were losing this battle.
She had lost Jahid…they had been in Basic together, he’d been a man of good humor and unwavering optimism even in the face of all of this, always trying to keep up his team’s spirits. She had lost Yadira…a brilliant tactician, a hell of a leader and a good friend. She’d lost her older sister, a decorated officer who she’d looked up to with all the fervor of a younger sibling who’d wanted to be just like her growing up. She’d lost her father, another decorated officer who she’d adored and wanted nothing more than to make proud. She didn’t have the luxury of time to grieve though, she pushed it down into the heavy, dull ache that sank a little more into her chest every day, mixing with the stubborn anger that kept her going when there seemed to be nothing else to run on. If she could save just one other person, if she could hold them off one more day, one more day might be enough to turn things around. This is what she told herself every day, even staring into the face of something she knew deep inside they couldn’t win. Because she had to tell herself something, and like hell was she going to stand aside and just let those things win. The last piece of the rifle went into place with an angry snap. She could finally get some sleep.
“Lieutenant Amari?”
She looked up to the young man who stood in the doorway, looking as tired as the rest of them in a uniform that didn’t quite fit right.
“Captain Sarraf wants to talk to you.”
She closed her eyes and swore under her breath, something else had either happened or was about to happen.
She made her way to the makeshift office, the man behind the desk looked up as she entered. “Sir? You wanted to speak with me?”
He wasted no time with pleasantries. “Lieutenant. You’ve been made an offer.”
She gave him a confused look, not really in the mood to play games at the moment.
Reaching across the desk he handed her a folder. It was crisp white, new and clean, and looked oddly out of place here. Her hand left a streak of gun oil across it as she took it from him. There were no words on the cover, just an embossed emblem in white and gold, a stylized circle with two points that came up through the center of it. She gingerly opened the cover to look inside.
“They’re calling it the Overwatch Project.” He explained. “Everyone has been fighting the Omnics, but nothing has been unified. This…it’s highly organized, on a global scale. Strike teams, tactics aimed at finally ending this. And they want you.”
She didn’t answer at first, looking over the pages inside. Someone had put a great deal of work into this, even at first glance it looked impressive. She finally looked back up to the other. She didn’t waste time pretending not to know why they’d want her, she knew of her reputation. But what she didn’t like was the idea of abandoning those here.
“Sir, this is impressive…but you need me here.”
“If that works…” he gestured towards the folder. “That ends this. For everyone.”
She couldn’t miss the same quiet desperation in his eyes that seemed to be in everyone’s lately. He didn’t need to add any more to that thought. If this didn’t work…in the end it wouldn’t matter where she was.
“It’s a big decision, if you need time to think about it…”
She thought of her friends, of her family, of her country. Of everyone who’d lost someone to those things, and everyone who stood to lose more. She wanted nothing more than for this to finally be over.
She shook her head. “I want to do this, Sir. When do I leave?”
For the first time in quite a long time, a flicker of hope rose up in her again. Maybe they all stood a chance after all.