Somewhere in Pennsylvania.... Christmas day, T minus four hours to insert.
"Alright, you all... have a seat. There's a lot to cover, so let's get to it," Cavadus barked out as he entered a GP-Large Tent that had been set up in the middle of a field. Chairs were sitting among some wood stoves and tables. Cavadus made his way up to the front of the tent, passing the body-filled chairs and and tables.
"Got word from the Legate, and needless to say... he's got something for us to do. I apolo
A cell phone rings on a coffee table, amid a large holiday gathering. The vibration isn't loud enough to be heard over the numbers of of people taking. The voice mail picks up.
"Hey, this is Julie. I'm not available right now, so leave a message. Bye!"
A tone beeps
"Jules, it's Mareth."
Lightfoot sat outside the tent, still smoking his cigar. A light snow began to fall with the eastward wind blowing into the back of his ball-capped head. "Listen, I'm sorry for leaving you alone o
The biting cold brushed against Mareth's cheek as he took another pull from his cigar. He looked up and saw a small single-engine plane in the distance.
"Looks like our ride is here." Mareth said looking over to Tsarg, pointing to the plane as it was beginning to touch down. Mareth grabbed his rifle from the tree stump it was leaning against and began to walk in the aircraft's direction. He opened the door to the plane where two gruff looking men sat in the pilot and co-pilot's seats.
A man sits in the corner of a barren, semi-lit room. His hands shaking while trying to light a cigarette. Light reflected off of his glasses and balding forehead.
"I knew it, man. I fuckin' knew it. First they poison us all, then they subjugate the living. Next thing you know, we're all slaves and bending to the 'Master's' will. You know what I mean, man?"
He looks over at a doll with a cartoonish smile painted on his face, eyes fixated on a point on the ceiling. The man snerks and takes
A pencil runs across a piece of paper in a flowing fashion. Drawing lines on paper as Sarah MacLachlan plays in the background. Julie needed to take her mind off of being alone for Christmas, so she began to pour herself into her work. Her cell phone rings as she draws, and she places her pencil down to answer it.
"Merry Christmas!" she responds, pretending to be cheery.
"No, Mother. Mareth hasn't called yet," she replies, then pauses and sighs. "I don't know when he's gonna be home."
Posted 26 Jan 2016 - 1709
"Look alive, Ladies... we hit the DZ in two minutes." The pilot states over the comms system. Mareth takes his headset off and heads to the door, Tsarg following suit. All of a sudden, Mareth feels a vibration in his suit, then the plane begins to shake a bit.
"Hey, no cell phones on this flight!" the pilot yells to the back. Mareth quickly reached through his suit and disabled the call, then waved up to the front of the plane. The plane started to ease up and stea