Satory Base (Peacekeepers : Oscar Team IC)

[Altito Asmoro]

OOC

Satory, Yvelines, France. Home to the French's GIGN, is also the home of the international counter-terrorist unit, Peacekeepers. Here, these elite operatives train to keep their skills at the highest possible level, and are ready to be deployed anywhere in the world at a moments notice. The base is suited up with its own dorm and Satory itself had been improved with buildings that a town should has. In any case, while the Peacekeepers are welcome to living at the town, the base itself is suited with living conditions for those who want to be ready every time.

For Peacekeepers never rest.

---

Jacques Moreau sat down in his office as he reviewed documents and working on paperwork. For his career in Peacekeepers, it is more or less for the paperwork to be few, usually to the countries which, despite their membership as permanent UNSC member, is not really aiding them on this kind of team. Perhaps if the nations try to assist really hard, then it will be a lot of paperwork. Apparently they just don't care enough.

He had arrived after a briefing with the other leaders of the other teams. There will be the briefing for next operation, but safe to say that until then, the operators will be living normally in the base, or in the town. In any case, it will be a wonderful team and the next assignment for Oscar team.

[Kyraina]

Cheif Master Sergeant (E-9) Joseph E. Bridges, USAF rode his 2016 Harley Davidson Street Glide Motorcycle into work form his house on base. He had spent the last few Months getting spun up with the new team for the Peacekeepers, and getting use to being basically the teams superintendent (highest ranking enlisted team member).
He had also went and returned from the same brief as Col. Jacques Moreau. He sat down in his own office but then his stomach growled and Joseph realized he was hungry. He got up and walked to Col. Moreau's office.

"Hey, Colonel. You want to go get some breakfast sir?" Joseph asked as he knocked on the door of Moreau's office.

[Altito Asmoro]

Cheif Master Sergeant (E-9) Joseph E. Bridges, USAF rode his 2016 Harley Davidson Street Glide Motorcycle into work form his house on base. He had spent the last few Months getting spun up with the new team for the Peacekeepers, and getting use to being basically the teams superintendent (highest ranking enlisted team member).
He had also went and returned from the same brief as Col. Jacques Moreau. He sat down in his own office but then his stomach growled and Joseph realized he was hungry. He got up and walked to Col. Moreau's office.

"Hey, Colonel. You want to go get some breakfast sir?" Joseph asked as he knocked on the door of Moreau's office.

Jacques looked up to saw Joseph. His resume is quite great, not the only Special Forces member but his resume is perhaps, the better one. Longer years of experience, he might added that some more for more details. While he's eager to take up the offer, the paperwork is mounting, though he already ate a croissant and a coffee. Not a healthy diet, actually. But he's so sleepy and he needs that dose of caffeine. Perhaps after this paperwork, he has to takes a quick nap.

"No, I'm fine, Joseph. But thank you for the offer of yours, I really appreciate that," as he continued to finishing his paperwork, before glanced at Joseph again. "What do you think about your current assignment with the Peacekeepers? Anything fine?"

[Kyraina]

Cheif Master Sergeant (E-9) Joseph E. Bridges, USAF rode his 2016 Harley Davidson Street Glide Motorcycle into work form his house on base. He had spent the last few Months getting spun up with the new team for the Peacekeepers, and getting use to being basically the teams superintendent (highest ranking enlisted team member).
He had also went and returned from the same brief as Col. Jacques Moreau. He sat down in his own office but then his stomach growled and Joseph realized he was hungry. He got up and walked to Col. Moreau's office.

"Hey, Colonel. You want to go get some breakfast sir?" Joseph asked as he knocked on the door of Moreau's office.

Jacques looked up to saw Joseph. His resume is quite great, not the only Special Forces member but his resume is perhaps, the better one. Longer years of experience, he might added that some more for more details. While he's eager to take up the offer, the paperwork is mounting, though he already ate a croissant and a coffee. Not a healthy diet, actually. But he's so sleepy and he needs that dose of caffeine. Perhaps after this paperwork, he has to takes a quick nap.

"No, I'm fine, Joseph. But thank you for the offer of yours, I really appreciate that," as he continued to finishing his paperwork, before glanced at Joseph again. "What do you think about your current assignment with the Peacekeepers? Anything fine?"

"Coming from a guy that has served along side Seal Team 6, aka DEVGRU, and Delta Force, as well as the 24th STS. It is definitely different. Not in a bad way of course, but in a great way. In fact it's a little like being part of Task Force Black, but vastly different as well. Unlike TF Black its more multinational then just the Brits and Americans, plus Peacekeepers have a wider mission, but i feel sorry for the guy that had to figure out the chain of command and classification stuff for the Peacekeepers. I am surprised though at how young some of the Operators are, but hey we all can't be grumpy old man." Joseph replied as he took a seat across from Jacques.

"The only thing that isn't fine is trying to learn French or any Romance Language for the most part. I know English, German, Creek, and some Arabic, but I can't get a handle on The Romance Languages. Well in the fact that people look at me funny when I'm on my Harley. It's like they don't see guys with loud bikes drive by very often."

[Krumbia]

Moustafa Bouzagiti
Oscar Team
The Peacekeepers

---

Bouzagiti grabbed his boots out the locker. He sat down on the bench, reached inside one of the boots, and pulled out a basic black Casio watch. He put it down next to him. He was in a changing room, having just emerged from the facility's swimming pool. Prior to that, he had been in the gym, trying to beat his personal best doing 10km on the rowing machine. His body lightly ached, and he still had the moist feeling of having spent a prolonged period of time in a chlorine-doused swimming pool. He pulled his boots on, and tied in the laces. He grabbed his watch and checked the time - 9AM. He put it on, and closed up the locker door, passing a GIGN gendarme, and greeted him in fluent French. He had been at the same unnecessarily boring health and safety meeting a few weeks ago, and they had exchanged small talk making light of their situation. His name was Albain, and he was only a couple years younger than Bouzagiti. He wore the stripes of a Maréchal des Logis-Chef, aka a Staff Sergeant, on his arm. He explained that he was going to swim a few lengths before breakfast, and Bouzagiti wished him well before departing.

Bouzagiti proceeded through the halls of the complex. After the establishment of the Peacekeepers a few years back, Satory Base had been greatly expanded, but it remained the headquarters and barracks of the GIGN, an elite part of the French National Gendarmerie. Having served a fair number of years in the French Foreign Legion, Bouzagiti was more than happy to talk with and relax amongst the gendarmes - a number of them had served in the French Army in the same places around the world, such as the Central African Republic and Mali. Former French colonial possessions gone wrong, in short. Oscar Team, his part of the Peacekeepers, had been sent to Satory Base just out the training phase, in order to mix and socialise with the other members of the team. Within a few days they would be recieving some indication of their mission, but for now, Bouzagiti opted to find some other team members. He had met them all briefly before and so had some idea who they were: most were American or Western European, so Bouzagiti was alone in that regard.

Walking through the bland white corridors of the base, Bouzagiti remembered that he was approaching the office of Colonel Jacques Moreau, the team leader. He decided he would drop in to see if there had been any update on the mission, and simply to try and pass time. Walking down the corridor towards the office, Bouzagiti spotted someone stood in the door way of Colonel Moreau's office. On inspection, it was Joseph Bridges, the Master Staff Sergeant or something, who had been assigned as the top NCO for Oscar Team. He was former US special forces, although was a good five years younger than Bouzagiti. Bouzagiti saw they were engaged in light conversation, and took the opportunity to jump in after overhearing Bridges talk about the Romance languages. "Ah, the Romance languages. Yes, Sergeant, I know what you mean. I suppose it is easier if you begin bilingual." Bouzagiti spoke English with a light Maltese accent. "Anyway, how are you sir, and you Sergeant? I was just about to go and get some breakfast if you want to join me in the canteen?"

[Kyraina]

Moustafa Bouzagiti
Oscar Team
The Peacekeepers

---

Bouzagiti grabbed his boots out the locker. He sat down on the bench, reached inside one of the boots, and pulled out a basic black Casio watch. He put it down next to him. He was in a changing room, having just emerged from the facility's swimming pool. Prior to that, he had been in the gym, trying to beat his personal best doing 10km on the rowing machine. His body lightly ached, and he still had the moist feeling of having spent a prolonged period of time in a chlorine-doused swimming pool. He pulled his boots on, and tied in the laces. He grabbed his watch and checked the time - 9AM. He put it on, and closed up the locker door, passing a GIGN gendarme, and greeted him in fluent French. He had been at the same unnecessarily boring health and safety meeting a few weeks ago, and they had exchanged small talk making light of their situation. His name was Albain, and he was only a couple years younger than Bouzagiti. He wore the stripes of a Maréchal des Logis-Chef, aka a Staff Sergeant, on his arm. He explained that he was going to swim a few lengths before breakfast, and Bouzagiti wished him well before departing.

Bouzagiti proceeded through the halls of the complex. After the establishment of the Peacekeepers a few years back, Satory Base had been greatly expanded, but it remained the headquarters and barracks of the GIGN, an elite part of the French National Gendarmerie. Having served a fair number of years in the French Foreign Legion, Bouzagiti was more than happy to talk with and relax amongst the gendarmes - a number of them had served in the French Army in the same places around the world, such as the Central African Republic and Mali. Former French colonial possessions gone wrong, in short. Oscar Team, his part of the Peacekeepers, had been sent to Satory Base just out the training phase, in order to mix and socialise with the other members of the team. Within a few days they would be recieving some indication of their mission, but for now, Bouzagiti opted to find some other team members. He had met them all briefly before and so had some idea who they were: most were American or Western European, so Bouzagiti was alone in that regard.

Walking through the bland white corridors of the base, Bouzagiti remembered that he was approaching the office of Colonel Jacques Moreau, the team leader. He decided he would drop in to see if there had been any update on the mission, and simply to try and pass time. Walking down the corridor towards the office, Bouzagiti spotted someone stood in the door way of Colonel Moreau's office. On inspection, it was Joseph Bridges, the Master Staff Sergeant or something, who had been assigned as the top NCO for Oscar Team. He was former US special forces, although was a good five years younger than Bouzagiti. Bouzagiti saw they were engaged in light conversation, and took the opportunity to jump in after overhearing Bridges talk about the Romance languages. "Ah, the Romance languages. Yes, Sergeant, I know what you mean. I suppose it is easier if you begin bilingual." Bouzagiti spoke English with a light Maltese accent. "Anyway, how are you sir, and you Sergeant? I was just about to go and get some breakfast if you want to join me in the canteen?"

"I''m good, just tired of these death by power point slides and endless paperwork. I've been speaking 3 Languages since I could talk, it's just Muskogee or as we call it Mvskoke, and German are very harsh sounding Languages and don't have thee fluidity that The Romance Languages have. You know? Any way it's Cheif not Sergeant, and call me Joseph or Smokey when we are in our buildings and not formal occasions. Breakfast does sound good though." Joseph replied as he stretched.

[Altito Asmoro]

Jacques looked up to saw Joseph. His resume is quite great, not the only Special Forces member but his resume is perhaps, the better one. Longer years of experience, he might added that some more for more details. While he's eager to take up the offer, the paperwork is mounting, though he already ate a croissant and a coffee. Not a healthy diet, actually. But he's so sleepy and he needs that dose of caffeine. Perhaps after this paperwork, he has to takes a quick nap.

"No, I'm fine, Joseph. But thank you for the offer of yours, I really appreciate that," as he continued to finishing his paperwork, before glanced at Joseph again. "What do you think about your current assignment with the Peacekeepers? Anything fine?"

"Coming from a guy that has served along side Seal Team 6, aka DEVGRU, and Delta Force, as well as the 24th STS. It is definitely different. Not in a bad way of course, but in a great way. In fact it's a little like being part of Task Force Black, but vastly different as well. Unlike TF Black its more multinational then just the Brits and Americans, plus Peacekeepers have a wider mission, but i feel sorry for the guy that had to figure out the chain of command and classification stuff for the Peacekeepers. I am surprised though at how young some of the Operators are, but hey we all can't be grumpy old man." Joseph replied as he took a seat across from Jacques.

"The only thing that isn't fine is trying to learn French or any Romance Language for the most part. I know English, German, Creek, and some Arabic, but I can't get a handle on The Romance Languages. Well in the fact that people look at me funny when I'm on my Harley. It's like they don't see guys with loud bikes drive by very often."

"Well, beggars can't choose. We're not exactly beggars...but few of our members...and I mean the ones with the larger military are usually the ones who refused to worked out with each other. So imagine our surprises when half of their high-ranking officers decided to sent some of their people anyway here," said Jacques, as he took another sip of coffee.

"You should learn French, it's a very good language. And mine too," as he chuckled longer than before. Well, he likes the conversation and it won't hurt him much.

And then Moustafa, another member of the Oscar, also went inside. He's an Algerian and from his resume, similar with Joseph, except perhaps Joseph is slightly more in experience?

"I'm fine, Moustafa. Why don't you and Joseph go along to the canteen? I will join as soon as I finish the paperwork."

[Greater Hudian Republic]

Satory Base.

---

France, huh?

The minivan was driving at a steady pace, passing the villas of the countryside before entering Satory. A woman was behind the wheel: beside her was a rather young man - or at least, he looked the part. Behind them were two children, one aged 4 and the other aged 7. The four quietly went through the roads before finally stopping in Satory Base.

"You sure you'll be alright?" The woman asked, turning to the man. "Yes, Zainab. I'll be fine. I've done this for a long time now." The man replied, referring to his sister by name. Both of them got out of the car, unbuckling the seatbelts of the impatient children. As they got out, the man, or Fareed as he was known, walked to the back of the car. He carefully opened the hood to reveal a number of bags. The children scurried out to help him.

Of course, their help was fruitless. They were too young to carry the weight of a soldier's weaponry and ammunition. Fareed smiled, instead, giving them a lighter load. The children dropped the bag full of weaponry, only to reveal his SCAR rifle and CZ pistol. Zainab took note of this. "Where's your AK?" She asked. Zainab may have not been an avid warfighter - like her mother she was groomed to be a wife, but she would often learn about warfare from the family. "I thought I needed an upgrade. General Iqbal got me a contact and I got this. Full auto and the base should have some accessories for it."

"Uncle Fareed, can we try this gun out? Please?" One of the children begged, eyeing the rifle and then to Fareed. "Enough kids. Uncle Fareed will be busy. You can try out next time." Zainab said, as she sent the children back to the car. "Stay safe, Fareed." Zainab said, hugging Fareed. "I will. Bye appi.' Fareed said, referring to her this time by the way he always does. Sister.

Fareed took his baggage, walking to the base, which was guarded by tough soldiers, who would look at Fareed every now and then, watching his every mood. Occasionally they would salute to him, realizing his stature. Deep breaths. Fareed thought as he got in the building.

Satory Base.

[Romic]

Satory Base

Anthony awoke at 5 a.m. local time and began training. He was older than most of the other guys around here and had to work a bit harder to keep top physical condition. He began his training by stretching out his body, one thing he learned before his divorce was his wife was always onto him about stretching. Afterward he started a 10 km run finishing in 53 minutes pacing himself, he did some strength training and finished about 8 a.m.

On his way down to the canteen he talked to a French soldier, broken French was the best he could do since he spoke fluent Spanish, though similar they were very different. They talked a little about the weather and went about their day. He walked through the halls, white walls with a picture every so often. After he stopped he stepped into the cafeteria he sat down and had some chow. Smiled at a few other soldiers and called it a good morning.

He was probably the only one on base that wasn't in any military, however his training in the HRT was similar in part of many military branches, on top of many years in the FBI, HRT, CNU, SWAT he was as experienced and as good a shot as any of them there. He slurped on some milk and watched people walk by.

[Kyraina]

Satory Base.

---

France, huh?

The minivan was driving at a steady pace, passing the villas of the countryside before entering Satory. A woman was behind the wheel: beside her was a rather young man - or at least, he looked the part. Behind them were two children, one aged 4 and the other aged 7. The four quietly went through the roads before finally stopping in Satory Base.

"You sure you'll be alright?" The woman asked, turning to the man. "Yes, Zainab. I'll be fine. I've done this for a long time now." The man replied, referring to his sister by name. Both of them got out of the car, unbuckling the seatbelts of the impatient children. As they got out, the man, or Fareed as he was known, walked to the back of the car. He carefully opened the hood to reveal a number of bags. The children scurried out to help him.

Of course, their help was fruitless. They were too young to carry the weight of a soldier's weaponry and ammunition. Fareed smiled, instead, giving them a lighter load. The children dropped the bag full of weaponry, only to reveal his SCAR rifle and CZ pistol. Zainab took note of this. "Where's your AK?" She asked. Zainab may have not been an avid warfighter - like her mother she was groomed to be a wife, but she would often learn about warfare from the family. "I thought I needed an upgrade. General Iqbal got me a contact and I got this. Full auto and the base should have some accessories for it."

"Uncle Fareed, can we try this gun out? Please?" One of the children begged, eyeing the rifle and then to Fareed. "Enough kids. Uncle Fareed will be busy. You can try out next time." Zainab said, as she sent the children back to the car. "Stay safe, Fareed." Zainab said, hugging Fareed. "I will. Bye appi.' Fareed said, referring to her this time by the way he always does. Sister.

Fareed took his baggage, walking to the base, which was guarded by tough soldiers, who would look at Fareed every now and then, watching his every mood. Occasionally they would salute to him, realizing his stature. Deep breaths. Fareed thought as he got in the building.

Satory Base.

"Coming from a guy that has served along side Seal Team 6, aka DEVGRU, and Delta Force, as well as the 24th STS. It is definitely different. Not in a bad way of course, but in a great way. In fact it's a little like being part of Task Force Black, but vastly different as well. Unlike TF Black its more multinational then just the Brits and Americans, plus Peacekeepers have a wider mission, but i feel sorry for the guy that had to figure out the chain of command and classification stuff for the Peacekeepers. I am surprised though at how young some of the Operators are, but hey we all can't be grumpy old man." Joseph replied as he took a seat across from Jacques.

"The only thing that isn't fine is trying to learn French or any Romance Language for the most part. I know English, German, Creek, and some Arabic, but I can't get a handle on The Romance Languages. Well in the fact that people look at me funny when I'm on my Harley. It's like they don't see guys with loud bikes drive by very often."

"Well, beggars can't choose. We're not exactly beggars...but few of our members...and I mean the ones with the larger military are usually the ones who refused to worked out with each other. So imagine our surprises when half of their high-ranking officers decided to sent some of their people anyway here," said Jacques, as he took another sip of coffee.

"You should learn French, it's a very good language. And mine too," as he chuckled longer than before. Well, he likes the conversation and it won't hurt him much.

And then Moustafa, another member of the Oscar, also went inside. He's an Algerian and from his resume, similar with Joseph, except perhaps Joseph is slightly more in experience?

"I'm fine, Moustafa. Why don't you and Joseph go along to the canteen? I will join as soon as I finish the paperwork."

"We will do that sir, and I'm slowly learning through Rosetta Stone. Any way we will be at the DFAC if you need us." Joseph said as he left the office with Moustafa in tow (Hopefully).

"So Moustafa, what do you think of the team so far, and how is someone your age at so low of a rank of OR-3 or are you a OR-4? You should atleast be a OR-6 or a OR-7. Like I am a OR-9, in the USAF that is a Chief Master Sergeant. Again tell me why you are only a CPL." Joseph said as they walked towards the front door.

Joseph then layed eyes on Fareed. His senses went on alert as he had not been expecting a new guy today.

"Halt, who are you and why are you here in this secure building?" Joseph asked Fareed.

[Greater Hudian Republic]

-Snurple Purple-

Satory Base.

---

Fareed turned around to see a stern faced soldier. "Salam... uh, I mean greetings." Fareed said. It was a long time since he had his first international operation: most of the time he and his companions in the SWADS would be restricted to training in the harsh Sundarbans, instead of seeing any real action. He usually spoke in Bangla, aside from the high-class restaurant dawat or parties he receives. Fareed studied in an English school and University: a luxury very few a Bengali can achieve.

"I apologize, I came in a day early. I dropped by in Paris a bit earlier in schedule... plans, that's all." He explained. "But oh, where are my manners? Fareed Rahman, ex-SWADS, Commando and Bangladesh Army. I believe you have seen me in the Ops list...?" Fareed asked, looking at the paperwork in Moreau's desk. "Can someone lead me to the barracks and canteen? I'm starving." Fareed further requested, gesturing at the bags in his hand.

[Kyraina]

-Snurple Purple-

Satory Base.

---

Fareed turned around to see a stern faced soldier. "Salam... uh, I mean greetings." Fareed said. It was a long time since he had his first international operation: most of the time he and his companions in the SWADS would be restricted to training in the harsh Sundarbans, instead of seeing any real action. He usually spoke in Bangla, aside from the high-class restaurant dawat or parties he receives. Fareed studied in an English school and University: a luxury very few a Bengali can achieve.

"I apologize, I came in a day early. I dropped by in Paris a bit earlier in schedule... plans, that's all." He explained. "But oh, where are my manners? Fareed Rahman, ex-SWADS, Commando and Bangladesh Army. I believe you have seen me in the Ops list...?" Fareed asked, looking at the paperwork in Moreau's desk. "Can someone lead me to the barracks and canteen? I'm starving." Fareed further requested, gesturing at the bags in his hand.

Joseph let out a sigh of relief as he recognized the name. "It's good to have you Fareed. I'm Chief Master Sergeant Joseph Bridges, Oscar Teams top Ranking Enlisted Member. I am a United States Air Force Combat Controller. I saw your name on the OPs list but your early arrival caught be by surprise as I was expecting you tomorrow or something after tomorrow. If you follow me and CPL. Moustafa here we will take you to the DFAC and then the Barracks." Joseph said as he stuck his hand out for Fareed to shake.

[Krumbia]

Moustafa Bouzagiti
Oscar Team
The Peacekeepers

---

Moustafa had been walking with the Chief towards the canteen when they came across a Bangladeshi soldier, Fareed Rahman, who had just drudged through entrance with bags in hand. Chief Bridges suggested they head over to the canteen together. Rahman said his background was in the Bangladeshi SWADS, whom Moustafa had heard about before. They were a sort of Naval Commandos, organised along the lines of the US Navy SEALS. Top quality soldiers, and another special forces operative in the mix. On another level, Moustafa was pleased there was another person from outside the NATO area, who had come to English as a second or third language. It reassured him slightly. Moustafa continued his conversation with Bridges before they proceeded onward. "To answer your earlier question, before we were interrupted, the Legion does not allow non-French Legionnaires to be promoted past Caporal-chef, which is OR-4. Technically, in between, I was a Captain in the Maltese armed forces, but that was a sinecure more than anything, and I didn't stay there for long. So, technically, I'm here as a Caporal-chef, OR-4, in some extension of the French Army, I guess. More to the point, I'm here as a Peacekeeper."

[Greater Hudian Republic]

Purple Nurp- oh wait

Fareed shook Joseph's hand, dropping one of the bags in his hand. He was unapologetic, probably because the bag comprised of his clothes, rather than his guns, by chance. "That'd be great." Fareed replied. Corporal Moustafa, eh? Maybe he's a Muslim... or even Bangadeshi. These thoughts were quickly wiped away, however, after Fareed realized he'd know Moustafa if he were in the Armed Forces, as well as his light Maltese accent. "On to the DFAC, sir. I'm pretty starved."

[The Yuktobanian Republic]

"Ugh, where did I put my phone?!" Angela yelled as she threw aside some clothes. She had just woken up, and already she was in a horrendous mood since she could not find her cellphone. She remembered when she was in Army Recon Detatchment 10, she always lost her phone. Every time she was finding it, it ended up in a stupid location. She laughed to herself, remembering the time it was in the shower at one point.

As Angela looked under her bed, she saw a glowing object. Smirking, she shoved her hand under the bed and pulled out her phone, which was turned on. She quickly turned it off, shoving it in her pocket as sheeft the room, shutting the door. She wanted to find something to eat, since she was hungry.

[Kyraina]

Moustafa Bouzagiti
Oscar Team
The Peacekeepers

---

Moustafa had been walking with the Chief towards the canteen when they came across a Bangladeshi soldier, Fareed Rahman, who had just drudged through entrance with bags in hand. Chief Bridges suggested they head over to the canteen together. Rahman said his background was in the Bangladeshi SWADS, whom Moustafa had heard about before. They were a sort of Naval Commandos, organised along the lines of the US Navy SEALS. Top quality soldiers, and another special forces operative in the mix. On another level, Moustafa was pleased there was another person from outside the NATO area, who had come to English as a second or third language. It reassured him slightly. Moustafa continued his conversation with Bridges before they proceeded onward. "To answer your earlier question, before we were interrupted, the Legion does not allow non-French Legionnaires to be promoted past Caporal-chef, which is OR-4. Technically, in between, I was a Captain in the Maltese armed forces, but that was a sinecure more than anything, and I didn't stay there for long. So, technically, I'm here as a Caporal-chef, OR-4, in some extension of the French Army, I guess. More to the point, I'm here as a Peacekeeper."

Purple Nurp- oh wait

Fareed shook Joseph's hand, dropping one of the bags in his hand. He was unapologetic, probably because the bag comprised of his clothes, rather than his guns, by chance. "That'd be great." Fareed replied. Corporal Moustafa, eh? Maybe he's a Muslim... or even Bangadeshi. These thoughts were quickly wiped away, however, after Fareed realized he'd know Moustafa if he were in the Armed Forces, as well as his light Maltese accent. "On to the DFAC, sir. I'm pretty starved."

"Touche, Moustafa. Well, Gentleman let's go get breakfast." Joseph said as he shook Fareed's hand.

"It's good to have you on the team Fareed, we will handle your in-processing after we get done with breakfast. Now you two tell me about yourselves, both dossiers have quite a few black lines in them and that doesn't help me figure y'all out on how to mesh up with y'all." Joseph said as they left the building and walked towards the DFAC.

[Greater Hudian Republic]

Sator Base.

---

Fareed grinned as the trio started walking. "I've had a long history, sir. Began my career as a part of the Bangladesh Army. Sent to Africa for some peacekeeping missions before returning here. Then I enlisted to join the SWADS, naval commandoes of the army if you haven't heard. I was in SWADS for most of my time, diving, practicing, diving practicing. It was rather thrilling. Nothing much from there - Bangladesh has never really intervened in foreign conflict as you ought to know. The invitation to the Peacekeepers gave me an escape, a chance for some action that is. Speaking of action, do you have any info on our next operation?"

[Kyraina]

"Can't say Fareed, we just got out of the training stage. It could happen right now but there is no real way to tell with us being a Counter Terrorist Unit, I just wish more countries would out their support behind us, it's insane that they are not." Joseph said as he Saluted a couple French GIGN officers. He pulled open the door of the DFAC, and waited for Fareed and Mustafa to go through, and then followed then.

"Some of us have been here from Months to years, so don't be surprised if you get a cold shoulder at first." Joseph said as. He got a breakfast of a Ham and cheese omelette, biscuits. Sausage, bacon, and gravy. He grabbed a cup of coffee and a glass of Dr. Pepper and took a seat by Anthony.

"Good morning Anthony. However are you today?"

[Greater Hudian Republic]

Satory Base.

---

Fareed solemnly nodded, as they proceeded to the DFAC. He managed to put up a half-smile, as he sat down with Joseph, bag still in hand. He pulled out a metal container, with roti, a South Asian flatbread, as well as curry and dal. He chuckled. "Don't worry, it's just for today." He said. He took and omelet and some sausages to accompany the curry as well a cup of coffee and water. "My mother's cooking. I miss it, even in fighting." He said, as he began eating.

[New Equestria]

"Halo 1 to tower, permission to land?" Cyril asked through the intercom.
Tower to Halo, permission granted. Proceed to pad one, skies are clear for now.
Cyril maneuvered the Black Hawk out of his circling pattern around the base, setting down at helipad one as ordered. As the engine was winding down, some ground crew came running over. Cyril took his helmet off, jumped out of the cockpit, and saluted the Crew Chief. "Didn't notice any problems with her. Far as I know she just needs a little fuel." The Crew Chief saluted back and started looking over the helicopter with the maintenance team. Helmet in hand, Cyril walked towards the building marked Headquarters, realizing he forgot the name of the commanding officer. He went around the complex for a little bit, before he found an office marked "Colonel Jacques Moreau." Figuring that sounded right, he knocked on the door, and pushed it open slightly. A man was sitting behind the desk, obviously busy with paperwork. Cyril opened the door further, then, still standing in the hallway, came to attention and saluted. "Sir, Cyril Ambrose, Warrant Officer One. I'm to be the Peacekeepers pilot, and I was told to check in with the commanding officer upon landing. I can leave if you're busy sir."

[Altito Asmoro]

"Halo 1 to tower, permission to land?" Cyril asked through the intercom.
Tower to Halo, permission granted. Proceed to pad one, skies are clear for now.
Cyril maneuvered the Black Hawk out of his circling pattern around the base, setting down at helipad one as ordered. As the engine was winding down, some ground crew came running over. Cyril took his helmet off, jumped out of the cockpit, and saluted the Crew Chief. "Didn't notice any problems with her. Far as I know she just needs a little fuel." The Crew Chief saluted back and started looking over the helicopter with the maintenance team. Helmet in hand, Cyril walked towards the building marked Headquarters, realizing he forgot the name of the commanding officer. He went around the complex for a little bit, before he found an office marked "Colonel Jacques Moreau." Figuring that sounded right, he knocked on the door, and pushed it open slightly. A man was sitting behind the desk, obviously busy with paperwork. Cyril opened the door further, then, still standing in the hallway, came to attention and saluted. "Sir, Cyril Ambrose, Warrant Officer One. I'm to be the Peacekeepers pilot, and I was told to check in with the commanding officer upon landing. I can leave if you're busy sir."

Jacques's paperwork is almost done, doesn't meant it is in a fewer numbers now. A man entered the officer after he knocked, and then it was revealed that he is the new pilot assigned to the Oscar Team. Cyril Ambrose.

"I'm the leading officer here, Cyril," as he got up from the chair and walked to Cyril, offered his hand for a shake, "My name is Jacques Moreau, Colonel, the rank. Welcome to the Peacekeepers, and there's a cafeteria if you ever need to check to. Not really busy at the moment."

[Krugeristan]

France? Somebody bite me. Akarah slung his rifle over his shoulder, looking dazed and mesmerized at the cities of the European country before arriving at the base. His appearance was enough for someone to assume he was a terrorist. If he didn't get shot first, all he had to do was show them his ID and his papers.

The last thing he wanted was one of these UN goons finding out he worked with Assad. He couldn't understand what people had against the man, and it seemed suspicious considering they were fighting the same people. Akarah was beyond caring about whatever fake "crimes" people had against Assad; he didn't want to see anymore governments toppled. He knew the effects of it. He wouldn't be here right now if Yemen's government hadn't collapsed and rebels slaughtered everyone he loved.

He knew he was here because he was in Afghanistan, and showed off what he learned in Syria there, but he wasn't telling anyone about Syria.

Very nervously, he began looking around the base. Allah, you're kidding me! There's a Bangladeshi and an Algerian?! He was thrilled there were people of his faith here, and he made a mental note to talk to them when he got acquainted with the base commander, whom he located somewhere in the other room. The commander was French, and Akarah felt a fearful twitch in his gut. After all my people have done to his . . . what's he going to say to me?

[New Equestria]

Jacques's paperwork is almost done, doesn't meant it is in a fewer numbers now. A man entered the officer after he knocked, and then it was revealed that he is the new pilot assigned to the Oscar Team. Cyril Ambrose.

"I'm the leading officer here, Cyril," as he got up from the chair and walked to Cyril, offered his hand for a shake, "My name is Jacques Moreau, Colonel, the rank. Welcome to the Peacekeepers, and there's a cafeteria if you ever need to check to. Not really busy at the moment."

Cyril shook Jacques' hand. "Thank you sir. Nice to meet you." Giving another salute, he exited Jacques' office, and went into the cafeteria. Seeing three people already there, he got coffee and an MRE, then sat down at an empty table. He put his helmet down on the chair beside him, opened his flight suit, and took out his assignment papers. As he read them again, he started eating.

[Romic]

"Can't say Fareed, we just got out of the training stage. It could happen right now but there is no real way to tell with us being a Counter Terrorist Unit, I just wish more countries would out their support behind us, it's insane that they are not." Joseph said as he Saluted a couple French GIGN officers. He pulled open the door of the DFAC, and waited for Fareed and Mustafa to go through, and then followed then.

"Some of us have been here from Months to years, so don't be surprised if you get a cold shoulder at first." Joseph said as. He got a breakfast of a Ham and cheese omelette, biscuits. Sausage, bacon, and gravy. He grabbed a cup of coffee and a glass of Dr. Pepper and took a seat by Anthony.

"Good morning Anthony. However are you today?"

Anthony looked up after taking a gulp of water washing down some bread. "I'm doing well Bridges still learning some new tricks..." he looked at the other men "You all can sit, I'm assuming we all trained together correct?" he sipped on his water and pulled his tray toward him and began make some room for the other men. "It looks like I'm the only non soldier here. So I've read everyone's file and have gotten a look inside your heads a bit...." he chuckled, "I'm kidding of course but I did see a few blanks spaces, anyone care to share?"

[Krugeristan]

"Can't say Fareed, we just got out of the training stage. It could happen right now but there is no real way to tell with us being a Counter Terrorist Unit, I just wish more countries would out their support behind us, it's insane that they are not." Joseph said as he Saluted a couple French GIGN officers. He pulled open the door of the DFAC, and waited for Fareed and Mustafa to go through, and then followed then.

"Some of us have been here from Months to years, so don't be surprised if you get a cold shoulder at first." Joseph said as. He got a breakfast of a Ham and cheese omelette, biscuits. Sausage, bacon, and gravy. He grabbed a cup of coffee and a glass of Dr. Pepper and took a seat by Anthony.

"Good morning Anthony. However are you today?"

Anthony looked up after taking a gulp of water washing down some bread. "I'm doing well Bridges still learning some new tricks..." he looked at the other men "You all can sit, I'm assuming we all trained together correct?" he sipped on his water and pulled his tray toward him and began make some room for the other men. "It looks like I'm the only non soldier here. So I've read everyone's file and have gotten a look inside your heads a bit...." he chuckled, "I'm kidding of course but I did see a few blanks spaces, anyone care to share?"

Seeing the commander was busy with someone else, Akarah left the room, and wandered over to where some of the others had gathered. A fear of being rude was trying to convince him to not say anything to them, but the last thing he wanted to do was remain a loner. Shyly approaching the group, he coughed a little before saying, "I try not to leave blank spaces when I fill something out, however, this is sort of the first thing I've ever filled out. We don't get much paperwork where I'm from." For some reason, that felt stupid to say, and he looked down at his boots, a little embarrassed.