<span style="font-weight: bold">Then...</span><br/><br/>Hale stands out on the terrace of his office and looks out at the construction being done on the city. As Mariel approaches, he speaks:<span style="color: orange">“When I look out there, do you know what I see? I see opportunity. I see a chance to make the world whole again.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“I know what you mean...”</span>She adds, folding her arms as a cold breeze rolls in.<span style="color: pink">“We're already behind schedule. I just want--”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: orange">“You want what's best for all of us and you want it done right. I know. That's why I picked you, Mariel.”</span><br/><br/>She smiles, saying nothing while gazing out at the night crew working under electric lights. A moment passes before she asks,<span style="color: pink">“Percy, I... I want you to know how much your faith in me means. I want to do right by you and everyone else here. This place? This is my home now.”</span><br/><br/>He looks out distantly, changing the subject.<span style="color: orange">“What do you make of those two?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Honestly? I don't know yet. Boone tells me they fought off a whole platoon of bandits by themselves. I kinda find that hard to believe.”</span><br/><br/>Hale smirks.<span style="color: orange">“Do you not believe in legends, Mariel?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“I've heard stories, sure. But you can't defend a city with campfire stories. These guys are just a couple of mercs. Nothing more.”</span><br/><br/>Turning back towards his office, Hale remarks,<span style="color: orange">“I have a feeling they're something more, Mariel... Something tells me there's more to these men than meets the eye.”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Now...</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Simply put,”</span>Mariel says authoritatively,<span style="color: pink">“We need to hit them hard and we need to do it before they have a chance to regroup.”</span><br/><br/>Hale's hands are folded. He looks furtively at Tyler and Deckard but says nothing. He'd rather get a read on their response first. Tyler, meanwhile, scratches his beard and asks,<span style="color: #336666">“Do we have any intel on the area?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“No...”</span>Mariel suddenly looks like she's hit a wall. Damn it. Obviously you need intel if you plan on storming a place, guns blazing.<br/><br/>Deckard scoffs quietly to himself.<span style="color: #bf0040">“I'm loving this plan already.”</span><br/><br/>Tyler, on the other hand, seems less interested in pointing out the flaws and more concerned with fixing them.<span style="color: #336666">“All right, we'll need to do a scouting run. Hale, who's your best spotter?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: orange">“That would be Clarkson. Tank Clarkson. He's part of the salvage and recovery division.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #bf0040">“He any good in a fight?”</span>Deckard asks skeptically.<br/><br/>Hale shrugs.<span style="color: orange">“He came to us from the wastes a few years ago trying to sell scrap electronics, so presumably he has some survival skills. Whether that meets your expectations for fighting skill, well... I'm not sure what to tell you.”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #bf0040">“'Long as he knows which end of the gun to point.”</span><br/><br/>Tyler turns to Mariel and says,<span style="color: #336666">“You know your people pretty well, yeah?”</span>Mariel nods. Tyler adds,<span style="color: #336666">“I'll need you to find anyone else we might need. Try to find a medic and maybe someone who knows how to sort through comm chatter.”</span>He turns to Hale.<span style="color: #336666">“You got an armory?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: orange">“My guards can show you. Take whatever you need.”</span><br/><br/>* * *<br/><br/>Calling them professionals would be a misnomer. They're ragtag at best: undisciplined, untrained, and inexperienced. Tank is about as ironic a name as one could get, being that he stands all of five-foot-seven and weighs less than Mariel. He looks more like an emaciated rat than any kind of person who should be named after an armored vehicle. The goggles on his head look like a pair of oversized insect eyes, and his fingerless gloves are frayed to the point where he can't stop pulling at the threads. Then there's Molly Kenning, the midwife who is the closest thing to a medic the city has. As for comms, Mariel is all too eager to take the job herself, as it somewhat justifies her presence there. Not that she knows much about communications. But an engineer should be able to figure it out, right?<br/><br/>When the team is introduced, Tyler and Deckard can only look at each other in disbelief. This is going to be a long ride.