<div class="floatleft">(https://c8.alamy.com/comp/DBHTG1/portrait-of-female-united-states-marine-corps-soldier-in-utility-uniform-DBHTG1.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>Sofia Sato Fuentes<br/><strong>Ranger</strong>Green<br/><strong>Location</strong>Jungles outside Sao Paulo to Unknown Location<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>All<br/><strong>Other</strong>Photo is just to give an idea of how she is dressed<br/><hr/><br/><br/>The fight had been a good one if she were any judge.  Of course the losing side of a good fight was just more tired when the end finally came.  Maybe, in some recorded history somewhere, there might be mention of this night.  Some tired book she mused with decrypted fingers of some alien being running over the words and remarking how troublesome humans were.  That at least gave her a small something to smile over as the boot of her enemy drove her downward into the jungle floor.  One hand curled to the wound on her right side, dark blood covering her gloved hand.  She could see the white tips of her fingers poking through the mesh glove but those white tips were now stained red.  He gave a ragged breath and stared down at the ground.  No sense being proud now, there was no one to witness any last efforts of defiance.  She was tired and the fight was done.  Around her the dead and dying were the same.<br/><br/>Absently she reached her good hand forward to touch the ground.  A last brush with her planet, her home.  The ground was wet from blood or rain she did not know.  Behind her the brutish alien tongue yammered on and something heavy stepped up the unknown.  Something heavy and dangerous if the stepping away of the others was any indication.  Sofia had no concern.  She was doing to die now.  After so many others had fallen and she survived, her time had finally come.  Eyes flickered to the green grass of her home and remarked on how vibrant the colors seemed.  Fingers struck on something hard amidst the soft field of vegetation.  Behind her another grunt and the sound of metal against metal.  An execution then.  Maybe there would be someone to watch.<br/><br/>Instinctively her fingers curled around the shard she unknowingly held and she raised her chin upward.  If she was going to have an audience then she wanted to at least give them a show.  One last look on their enemy to know they killed something, someone today.  Eyes opened to look at her executioner and she gave a curse in her native tongue.  A simple remark on the hideous visage that even now was being consumed in a bright light.  Her last thought was how strange Heaven must look if a person couldn’t see past all the white.<br/><br/>For her the floor seemed to come up even though it was her that moved to the floor.  Knees were no longer on a soft surface but instead a cold, firm one.  Eyes blinked against.  Thick grease paint on her face of black and green stripes gave this seemingly innocent gesture a strange appearance.  The woman’s hair was now free of the cap she had worn, dark strands dirty and tightly braided to the back of her head.  Words sounded but in a familiar tongue.  She understood them and for a moment she truly wondered if this was Heaven and how disappointed people would be.<br/><br/>Booted feet struggled to move under her so that she could rise.  She almost vomited for her efforts but the bile was pushed downward.  Against her chest an empty rifle sounded against damaged body armor.  Blood was held back by the palm of her hand, masked by the mixture of greens and blacks on her camouflaged clothing.  The hand not holding her wound moved to unclasp the sack on her back.  The items falling with a heavy thud when the man with the silver case approached.  A smile parted her full lips, flashing white against the dark paint.  She almost seemed human again, womanly even with the smile on her lips.  Delicately she reach forward to the morpher and took the device.<br/><br/>“About fucking time.”  She said to him in the gasps of a breathless whisper.<br/>