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Kaze
Sail away where no ball and chain~
Sun Oct 9, 2011 1:02am
67.232.60.163


Parallel to the Briefing at the Stomping Grounds
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Freezing waves of salty current crashed against the side of the mini-yacht that had been assigned to Kaze, Shinsei, and a half-dozen other mercenaries. The Stomping Grounds had adequate land power and amazing air support, but very little in the way of maritime vehicles. So when an emergency job came in involving intercepting a group of pirate ships in the north Pacific, there was little else to do but have a rented recreational vehicle air dropped via Albatross with as many long-range capable fighters on board as possible. So they had gone, and dropped, and splashed, and fought. A week out at sea had made some of the mercs sick before, but the storm they'd been weathering for the past day had outright done them in. Supplies and patience dwindling, not one of them wasn't counting the days until they returned.

Lying on the floor slumped against the starboard wall of the navigation center was Kaze, listening to the wind and water and meditating intently to try to ignore the ten foot swells. He hated deep water. It was dark, crushing, and utterly unforgiving. And his special skills didn't work so well in it, either. The radio crackled, and nobody regarded it. The same small-craft advisory had been playing every ten minutes for the past ten hours, and any of them could have recited it by heart. Tapping down the visor on his helmet to check the local weather forecast, the lanky merc was surprised to see the time: 6:53 PM. Seven minutes early for the next advisory. He rolled out of his slump and turned the radio volume up, and a message came through.


*static* KZZTCH- "Re" -Kzzzt- "eat... Come in, Seadog One. Priority message from Administrative. Do you read?"

As soon as Megan, the navigator, realized a real message was coming through, she snapped up the receiver and answered in her Southern drawl. "Ay-firmative, Home. What'chu need?"

"Calling for immediate redirect. You are to head North and dock your ship at Nikolayevsk-on-Amur, a port at 53°08′N 140°44′E on the Russian coastline. Additional transportation has been arranged once you arrive. Confirm?"

"Confirm, home." She jotted the coordinates down with a wax pencil directly on the control panels.

"Home out." Megan replaced the microphone and looked to Kaze. "You get t' tell'um that we're going t' Russia."

Denying her the rise she expected, he nodded, stood, and made his way to the tiny quarters they all shared.

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    • Sail away where no ball and chain~ — Kaze, Sun Oct 9 1:02am
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