PW: The Task Force Atlas Bar and Grill

[Monfrox]

The Colonel, having not escaped her own hubris, tried her best to fit into her uniform. It was a feat, that's for sure. She wasn't wearing the combat uniform like most other Froxian soldiers on base, but the standard button-up blouse. Those buttons were the only thing standing in the way of a very embarrassing mishap. The blouse was pulled taught, and she had to leave the top one open. The pants still fit about as well, though her ass was still very prominent around back. She had picked out an old Russian-styled tiger strip pattern in an urban color scheme, but she would need to send back for a new one. Afterall, she was the post girl for the Froxian military. When people heard about them, usually she wanted to be the one that first came to their mind, and she didn't want to be known for letting more skin show than she wanted.

However, she was more worried about Kayora, who's own slender figure was not being hidden as much by the bed sheets. She thought about offering to go alone and get her measurements back in the barracks, but perhaps it would be a fruitless endeavor as she seemed very excited about getting a new uniform. She decided not to bother, and instead focused on not breaking buttons on their way over to the quartermaster. Well, good thing uniforms were made to last.

[The United Remnants of America]

Operations Center, Task Force Atlas Headquarters, Fort Bragg, Organized States

The lights were dimmed. Everyone had gone off duty a couple hours earlier. There was one computer screen on, with a single figure in the room, leaning back in their chair, arms behind their head, seemingly relaxed as music played softly from the computer's speakers. The lone figure whistled the tune quietly. He'd already decided he liked the original better, but this new Donnish girl was pretty good, he guessed.

The Director was watching text-based status reports as they came in on the computer screen. Roughly ten minutes ago, on the other side of the world, reports had stopped being updated for Diego Garcia. The Director had assumed why, just as the reason why Firebase Amethyst had gone quiet roughly an hour ago. Archangel and his people must have finally made their moves. What did he call them, again...?

"Sali?"

A small window popped up in the corner of the screen, showing Sali's avatar in front of a white background, "Yes, Director?"

"What was it Archangel had called his team again?"

"I believe it was Task Force Logos, Director."

"Ah, right," the Director chuckled to himself, "such a creative name."

"It is most likely inspired by Task Force Atlas, Dire-"

"I know, Sali. Sarcasm, honey."

Sali's avatar appeared embarrassed, "Ah, yes, Director. I apologize, I didn't... Director, a call is coming in for you. The source is encrypted. Would you like me to track it?"

"No, Sali, that's fine. I'll take it here. Don't use Task Force standard encryption channels, use encryption Alpha, please."

"Yes, Director. Connecting and directing...."

The voice that spoke next through the computer did not sound pleased: "You lied, Director."

The Director had been expecting this call as well. "Whatever do you mean, old friend?"

"You said you weren't going to scramble Atlas until there had been more attacks."

"I changed my mind."

"You did. And you forgot to tell me."

"I didn't forget. I made a note to not tell you."

"You damnable devil! If I'd known they were at Diego Garcia, I would've-"

"You would've what?" The Director put his feet down and sat properly in the computer chair, "You would've warned Archangel? We both know that's bullshit."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Exactly. I know you. You wanted this to happen as much as I did. To test them. To see if you'd gotten your money's worth."

"They were not cheap, Director."

"Oh, I bet they weren't. Just be happy they got the preemptive strike before being noticed. You can take that as a win."

".... Go to Hell." The line went dead, leaving the Director in silence.

Sali's window popped back onscreen soon after, "The call was ended abruptly, Director. I do not know what happened."

"He hung up on me. That's all."

"Do you need anything, sir?"

"Nothing, Sali, just leave me here with my music and news."

"Yes, Director," The window popped off.

The Director leaned slowly back into his computer chair as he clicked up the computer's music player and started a new song, relaxing back and putting his feet back up on the desk as he whistled a new tune and watched the text status reports from TFA and TFL radio chatter in several locations.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

(still in theatrical flashback-mode, please enjoy this soothing advertisement theme-music from Textron Systems)

The Colonel, having not escaped her own hubris, tried her best to fit into her uniform. It was a feat, that's for sure. She wasn't wearing the combat uniform like most other Froxian soldiers on base, but the standard button-up blouse. Those buttons were the only thing standing in the way of a very embarrassing mishap. The blouse was pulled taught, and she had to leave the top one open. The pants still fit about as well, though her ass was still very prominent around back. She had picked out an old Russian-styled tiger strip pattern in an urban color scheme, but she would need to send back for a new one. Afterall, she was the post girl for the Froxian military. When people heard about them, usually she wanted to be the one that first came to their mind, and she didn't want to be known for letting more skin show than she wanted.

However, she was more worried about Kayora, who's own slender figure was not being hidden as much by the bed sheets. She thought about offering to go alone and get her measurements back in the barracks, but perhaps it would be a fruitless endeavor as she seemed very excited about getting a new uniform. She decided not to bother, and instead focused on not breaking buttons on their way over to the quartermaster. Well, good thing uniforms were made to last.

As the rain continued to pour, Kayora led the way to what seemed like mishappen mound cleverly hidden underneath a tarp. Pulling it aside, she revealed a Hurtian Light Utility Vehicle (it's a motorcycle), type 21CPS to be precise. Originally the type-21s were meant as an EHALO-certified prime-mover for airborne units, but their low cost and adaptability in addition to being technically not a car (and therefore not banned) meant the quasi-kettenkrad with its choice between dual rear wheels, quad rear wheels, and a mono-track was a constantly popular choice for Hutri service-members to let off some steam around the town in. The CPS-variant being the type modified for general-use on the Chitzi boglands, often fitted with a powered sidecar, front bustle-rack, and a towing-hitch rated to handle a quarter-ton trailer or light artillery. The 5-wheeled D model being used more as a means of towing bombers and trailers full of airmen around forward-bases.

However, despite being a motorcycle, and Kayora's state of attire, and the rain; she made it clear that as her guest 'Santa' would be her passenger as she straddled her position behind the handlebars and pulled up her makeshift hood and drew it tight with a bit of cordage so it wouldn't flop down. As she leaned down to rev the engine, any passers-by would not have been blamed if they'd mistaken the pair for a group of Froxian commandoes finally getting the nerve to pull a revenge-prank on the Hurti team for their many raids and threats of raids upon their barracks.

[Monfrox]

Task Force Atlas Disbandment
Fort Bragg

To say that things were hectic was an understatement. With TFA's dissolution, many members were having their soldiers recalled immediately. It seemed they didn't trust their old allies once they no longer had to work together. Well, suits them just fine. A C-130 was on the taxiway, with black stars on a red circle as it's roundel.

"Colonel, we gotta leave now! All the other transports are still warming up but we won't be out of here in time to change the flight plan accordingly if you're not here!" The pilot called out over the encrypted frequency.

Colonel "Smith" was walking out of the former Froxian barracks with the remains of their gear in tow by the soldiers. The security team for the plane had established a four point perimeter around the airplane, being sure that no one would be walking to it that wasn't on the flight plan. Once they were loaded up, everything got underway. The plane had already tried to connect to the tower but things were already too chaotic to establish proper air traffic control procedures. The whole place was in bedlam. It was time to get while the getting was good. The Herc rumbled out onto one of the runways and took off as fast as it could.

Meanwhile, the others in the hold were looking expectantly at the Colonel who was staring at her disposable cell phone. "NRI", whatever that was. She could jump on that chance, but she knew better.

"Hey Valentina."

Valentina "Razor" Richter almost paled at the sound of her own name. They were supposed to be nonexistent, and were just that despite operating as such. But if anyone earned the right to know their names, it was the Colonel.

"Yes ma'am?"

"You mind doing me a favor? I need you to go see a friend on short notice."

Valentina raised her eyebrow. "Huh?"

To be continued