...eleven years ago.
The rebels, four prisoners, and Rogar trekked to the insurgent campsite. It was a four-kilometer hike through difficult terrain, weaving between canyon walls to stay out of sight.
When they reached the outpost, out of sight by the camouflage of the tenting until they almost stumbled directly upon it, Rogar was taken one direction by one of the men. The others and the prisoners went elsewhere. Rogar couldn't get a good, long look at where they were being taken, except that it was a tent on the far side of the base.
His escort and he approached a larger canvas structure, the command post. Two guards stood outside, who let them in as soon as they reached them. Inside, four older men, officers, were standing around an old, base wooden table that had holes in it. They looked at him as soon as Rogar walked in, whatever conversation they were having now obviously at an end. For a time, they continued to stare at him, as if weighing and judging. The escort stood at attention, his light green eyes pointed straight ahead. Finally, one of the officers said, "You must be the mule that is supposed to have our food. We've been waiting for you."
Rogar looked down. "Sorry, sir, I was told to arrive today."
"We've been going through more supplies than expected, and getting less than expected. I'm hoping you've brought more food with you than what you have on you now," said another.
"No, sir. This is all I have," answered Rogar.
They looked disappointed with the answer. Turning inwards to talk between themselves, Rogar could hardly catch a word of it. He would have leaned in, but the escort was looking at him from the side of his eye. Suddenly, the murmuring stopped and they turned to look back at him in that intimidating way. One said, "You are dismissed, boy. Leave your pack here."
"You can remain in the camp until tomorrow morning, when you are to set out for your return to Zarbia before the sun rises," added another. He looked at the escort. "You soldier will be responsible that the boy does as he is told. Sleep outside of his tent and ensure that he be out of our camp before first light."
"Yes, sir," said the escort. To Rogar, he said, "Come," before turning and holding the flap open for him to pass through.
They made their way to a lit firepit, around which sat other soldiers eating some sort of soup. Some of the rebels greeted the escort, whose surname was apparently Sebastos. One of the men already there nodded to the boy and asked, "Would you like some soup? It's made fresh." He gave a toothy smile.
Others laughed. Rogar answered, "Yes."
Another one took an empty bowl that was sitting on the tough, dirt ground and filled it to the brim before handing it to Rogar. Taking it between both hands, he grabbed a makeshift spoon that the first one offered him. Stirring it, he found what he thought to be rabbit and parts of some other animal, as well as wild roots and plants. He took a spoonful, brought it to his mouth, and sipped it. Crunching his face as if it were a prune, he closed his eyes and spat it out, coughing along the way. The rest of the men erupted in rapturous laughter and Rogar's face lit up like the head of a hot cigarette. "What's in this?" he asked, exasperated.
Still laughing, the one who handed the bowl to him, replied, "Food has been low around these parts, boy. And from what I hear you haven't brought us much more. Meaning, we have to make do with what we have. And what we have tonight is rat, fox, and squirrel, along with a few vegetables that nobody can name 'cause no one has been desperate enough to eat them before."
"You ought to fill your stomach," interjected the first one. "You won't have much food to take with you back down."
They fell into silence for some time as they all began to eat. Other circles were doing the same. The sun was starting to come down and they would have to put out the fires. As time went on, other groups of rebels were starting to return to camp. They must have been out on patrol or conducting an ambush. Some looked like they had been roughed up, but most looked okay.
As it became later, there was moaning coming from that far tent that Rogar had seen them take the prisoners to. He asked one of the men sitting next to him, "What are they going to do with the imperials?"
The soldier shrugged, "None of our business. Although, I suppose if I were to guess, we're getting what we can from them."
"Then what?" asked Rogar.
"Don't you worry about that," responded to the soldier.
The moans grew into screams, and these only got louder as the night came down upon them. Rogar hardly slept at all.
...present day.
“So, what’s is your name and rank sir?” asked the Supreme Leader. He was surprised — and quite honored — that it was this man who was here to greet him. The situation must have been grave and help very much needed for this sort of welcome party. Rogar looked at them both, the Supreme Leader and the general, and bowed slightly.
He said, "It's an honor to meet you both, Supreme Leader Kudo and General Midoriya. My name is Major Rogar Burton. I'm glad I got here when I did if the situation is as bad as you claim, Mr. Kudo. I represent Koman Services, a private military contractor with headquarters in both Tarn and Rubino. My boss is responding to a request by someone within your government for us to observe the ongoing situation and offer our help should be the opportunity arise. We have been successfully employed in many combat zones around the world and we have not lost an engagement yet. For the time being, Koman Services has authorized my placement under your control, meaning me and my suit are available to you and your military as you see fit. I'm excited to get to work and help restore stability to your great country. I truly am."
Pausing for a second, he finally added, "So...what is exactly is going on? Also...why do I look like this?" He extended his arms before him, removing the suit's gloves to show his hands.
The rebels, four prisoners, and Rogar trekked to the insurgent campsite. It was a four-kilometer hike through difficult terrain, weaving between canyon walls to stay out of sight.
When they reached the outpost, out of sight by the camouflage of the tenting until they almost stumbled directly upon it, Rogar was taken one direction by one of the men. The others and the prisoners went elsewhere. Rogar couldn't get a good, long look at where they were being taken, except that it was a tent on the far side of the base.
His escort and he approached a larger canvas structure, the command post. Two guards stood outside, who let them in as soon as they reached them. Inside, four older men, officers, were standing around an old, base wooden table that had holes in it. They looked at him as soon as Rogar walked in, whatever conversation they were having now obviously at an end. For a time, they continued to stare at him, as if weighing and judging. The escort stood at attention, his light green eyes pointed straight ahead. Finally, one of the officers said, "You must be the mule that is supposed to have our food. We've been waiting for you."
Rogar looked down. "Sorry, sir, I was told to arrive today."
"We've been going through more supplies than expected, and getting less than expected. I'm hoping you've brought more food with you than what you have on you now," said another.
"No, sir. This is all I have," answered Rogar.
They looked disappointed with the answer. Turning inwards to talk between themselves, Rogar could hardly catch a word of it. He would have leaned in, but the escort was looking at him from the side of his eye. Suddenly, the murmuring stopped and they turned to look back at him in that intimidating way. One said, "You are dismissed, boy. Leave your pack here."
"You can remain in the camp until tomorrow morning, when you are to set out for your return to Zarbia before the sun rises," added another. He looked at the escort. "You soldier will be responsible that the boy does as he is told. Sleep outside of his tent and ensure that he be out of our camp before first light."
"Yes, sir," said the escort. To Rogar, he said, "Come," before turning and holding the flap open for him to pass through.
They made their way to a lit firepit, around which sat other soldiers eating some sort of soup. Some of the rebels greeted the escort, whose surname was apparently Sebastos. One of the men already there nodded to the boy and asked, "Would you like some soup? It's made fresh." He gave a toothy smile.
Others laughed. Rogar answered, "Yes."
Another one took an empty bowl that was sitting on the tough, dirt ground and filled it to the brim before handing it to Rogar. Taking it between both hands, he grabbed a makeshift spoon that the first one offered him. Stirring it, he found what he thought to be rabbit and parts of some other animal, as well as wild roots and plants. He took a spoonful, brought it to his mouth, and sipped it. Crunching his face as if it were a prune, he closed his eyes and spat it out, coughing along the way. The rest of the men erupted in rapturous laughter and Rogar's face lit up like the head of a hot cigarette. "What's in this?" he asked, exasperated.
Still laughing, the one who handed the bowl to him, replied, "Food has been low around these parts, boy. And from what I hear you haven't brought us much more. Meaning, we have to make do with what we have. And what we have tonight is rat, fox, and squirrel, along with a few vegetables that nobody can name 'cause no one has been desperate enough to eat them before."
"You ought to fill your stomach," interjected the first one. "You won't have much food to take with you back down."
They fell into silence for some time as they all began to eat. Other circles were doing the same. The sun was starting to come down and they would have to put out the fires. As time went on, other groups of rebels were starting to return to camp. They must have been out on patrol or conducting an ambush. Some looked like they had been roughed up, but most looked okay.
As it became later, there was moaning coming from that far tent that Rogar had seen them take the prisoners to. He asked one of the men sitting next to him, "What are they going to do with the imperials?"
The soldier shrugged, "None of our business. Although, I suppose if I were to guess, we're getting what we can from them."
"Then what?" asked Rogar.
"Don't you worry about that," responded to the soldier.
The moans grew into screams, and these only got louder as the night came down upon them. Rogar hardly slept at all.
...present day.
“So, what’s is your name and rank sir?” asked the Supreme Leader. He was surprised — and quite honored — that it was this man who was here to greet him. The situation must have been grave and help very much needed for this sort of welcome party. Rogar looked at them both, the Supreme Leader and the general, and bowed slightly.
He said, "It's an honor to meet you both, Supreme Leader Kudo and General Midoriya. My name is Major Rogar Burton. I'm glad I got here when I did if the situation is as bad as you claim, Mr. Kudo. I represent Koman Services, a private military contractor with headquarters in both Tarn and Rubino. My boss is responding to a request by someone within your government for us to observe the ongoing situation and offer our help should be the opportunity arise. We have been successfully employed in many combat zones around the world and we have not lost an engagement yet. For the time being, Koman Services has authorized my placement under your control, meaning me and my suit are available to you and your military as you see fit. I'm excited to get to work and help restore stability to your great country. I truly am."
Pausing for a second, he finally added, "So...what is exactly is going on? Also...why do I look like this?" He extended his arms before him, removing the suit's gloves to show his hands.
