Brady Dust
Inactive Member
Nepleslian Planetary Forces 179th Barracks (Planetside), Nightfall
"...That's why you use slaps instead of fists."
Brady stepped forward and offered his hand to the squadmate that he had been sparring with.
"You haven't been in a real fight yet, so you don't know - all you've been doing is sparring with us and the instructors at Boot." The man took the hand and was pulled up off of the padded training floor. Brady led him out of the ring and outside, where the night air was cool and refreshing. Even if the other guy hadn't been much of a challenge, they had been sparring for the better part of an hour already, and that's enough to make anybody sweat.
"When you're out there -" Brady gestured to the chain-link fence that seperated the army base from the harsh too-bright lights of the city - "You're not going to get a second chance, you know."
"What about you, Brady?" The kid was 17, just newly enlisted from one of the upper-crust families in Nepleslia. He had a fresh face and was probably on the fast track to a promotion. Brady hoped the kid would go into a staffing position - he wasn't cut out for joining General Infantry. "How did you make it?"
Brady pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stood there as a cool breeze generated from all the cars in the city blew through the altogether inactive camp. The place was quieter than the grave during the night time - most of the soldiers spent their time indoors.
"Luck," Brady said, tossing the cigarette down and putting it out with a pronounced twist of his heel. "You can call it luck."
***
Uesureyan Fields Starport, the following morning
"I tell you that being on patrol is a pain. You never get to see anything interesting, just the same old ho-hum of the boonies. Maybe if there were some nice women to look at, or something, but here there's just...Depression." That was the brash, trigger-happy one. He had a future in heavy support and demolitions.
"Oh, come on, I'd take a day of peace over an hour of violence any day," said the rich kid. "There's something to be said in just walking through a place like this and have it be quiet."
Brady kept one hand on the wheel and one hand on the seat, where he had a fairly large and altogether intimidating looking knife. The jeep rumbled through the Blackout Ward slowly, on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. During the day it stays pretty quiet, but at night, Brady couldn't be paid enough to step foot in the place. The windows had scrap bars on them for a reason, after all.
Aside from Brady, the kid, and the trigger-happy guy, there was also Moe, who was probably the best shot out of the bunch. Bound for covert ops and sniper duty. The four were on a routine patrol from sunup until roughly halfway through the day, where they changed shifts with the other members of the 179th.
Most of the patrol passed by uneventually, only the occasional domestic disturbance that local law enforcement couldn't be bothered with, as well as a robbery. On the whole, though, business as usual in this neck of the woods.
Brady checked his clock. Another hour, and they could head back to the base, grab a shower, and then head back out into the Starport to get some lunch...
"...That's why you use slaps instead of fists."
Brady stepped forward and offered his hand to the squadmate that he had been sparring with.
"You haven't been in a real fight yet, so you don't know - all you've been doing is sparring with us and the instructors at Boot." The man took the hand and was pulled up off of the padded training floor. Brady led him out of the ring and outside, where the night air was cool and refreshing. Even if the other guy hadn't been much of a challenge, they had been sparring for the better part of an hour already, and that's enough to make anybody sweat.
"When you're out there -" Brady gestured to the chain-link fence that seperated the army base from the harsh too-bright lights of the city - "You're not going to get a second chance, you know."
"What about you, Brady?" The kid was 17, just newly enlisted from one of the upper-crust families in Nepleslia. He had a fresh face and was probably on the fast track to a promotion. Brady hoped the kid would go into a staffing position - he wasn't cut out for joining General Infantry. "How did you make it?"
Brady pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stood there as a cool breeze generated from all the cars in the city blew through the altogether inactive camp. The place was quieter than the grave during the night time - most of the soldiers spent their time indoors.
"Luck," Brady said, tossing the cigarette down and putting it out with a pronounced twist of his heel. "You can call it luck."
***
Uesureyan Fields Starport, the following morning
"I tell you that being on patrol is a pain. You never get to see anything interesting, just the same old ho-hum of the boonies. Maybe if there were some nice women to look at, or something, but here there's just...Depression." That was the brash, trigger-happy one. He had a future in heavy support and demolitions.
"Oh, come on, I'd take a day of peace over an hour of violence any day," said the rich kid. "There's something to be said in just walking through a place like this and have it be quiet."
Brady kept one hand on the wheel and one hand on the seat, where he had a fairly large and altogether intimidating looking knife. The jeep rumbled through the Blackout Ward slowly, on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. During the day it stays pretty quiet, but at night, Brady couldn't be paid enough to step foot in the place. The windows had scrap bars on them for a reason, after all.
Aside from Brady, the kid, and the trigger-happy guy, there was also Moe, who was probably the best shot out of the bunch. Bound for covert ops and sniper duty. The four were on a routine patrol from sunup until roughly halfway through the day, where they changed shifts with the other members of the 179th.
Most of the patrol passed by uneventually, only the occasional domestic disturbance that local law enforcement couldn't be bothered with, as well as a robbery. On the whole, though, business as usual in this neck of the woods.
Brady checked his clock. Another hour, and they could head back to the base, grab a shower, and then head back out into the Starport to get some lunch...
