Fully armed and armored in all but his helmet, which was cradled under his left arm, the Master Sergeant stepped from the back of the vehicle and following suit, snapping off a salute, he remained in that rigid posture until acknowledged by the Captain. He honestly didn't bother with the Lieutenants in light of superior ranked officer. This was his Lieutenants time to shine.
Viego stepped out yawned, and looked around. In his full armor, he was the last to notice the Captain, so there was a moment pause, but when he did and he saw the others had reacted already he too snapped a salute. He held his stance waiting to be released.
Nolan is the last to debark the APC.
When he does, he immediately spots the Captain and snaps to attention, saluting.
"Lieutenant Randall and squad reporting for duty sir."
He waits to be acknowledged and told to be at ease.
---Everyone---
The captain returns the salute, "At ease boys." He motions for Nolan to follow. "I have a few more developments for you Lieutenant. General Chalk wanted to brief you himself."
The female Lieutenant who was with the captain, waved everyone else over, "Mess hall is over there, Cooks pretty decent, but nothing spectacular if you gentlemen need lunch."
Viego perks up at the mention of food. "I mean need... no, want yeah." He happily follows the female Lieutenant.
"A personal brief from the General/ That cannot be good news. Thanks, Captain. After you, sir."
Nolan gestures for the Captain to lead the way to the general. A General taking personal charge of the situation was not a good sign. Something more had certainly developed on their way here.
He looks back at the squad, "Stay sharp, we might be headed out pretty quickly"
He'd already seen enough of the Master Sergeant that he had no fear that Khayman would let the boys lose their edge, so this was more for show for the Captain.
Aaron wasn't picky when it came to food; sure he enjoyed a good home-cooked meal as much as the next guy, but as long as it was edible, he was fine with it. Hell, even if it turned out to be a complete culinary disaster Aaron could manage to choke it down if nothing else was available.
Aaron saluted Nolan in response and headed off to the mess hall. The group couldn't be certain when the next opportunity to have a hot meal would come up so might as well eat now. If it's salted, it's good enough.
Fuck Brand, you eat my cooking, so your taste buds are already shot to hell, Khayman said as they followed the Lieutenant to the mess hall. He wasn't really hungry, but a cup of coffee sounded like the survival of those around him.
---Nolan---
Nolan waked into the main command building just behind the captain. He moves into the control center and General Chalk spots him immediately.
"Ah, Lieutenant Nolan. Good- you're here. Lets step into my office and discuss the situation you and your team are walking into." With that the General and Captain turned and stepped into a simple but modern office fully expecting Nolan to follow them. Once he was inside the door slide shut the General walked around to his desk and sat down. He gestured toward two chairs.
"Have a seat."
---Khayman, Marcus, Viego, and Aaron---
The rest of the squad moves toward the Mess Hall, the four dogboys walk over their own mess hall, one set aside for their kind. The Psi-Stalkers just stay with the APC.
They walk in and step up to the chow line. Looks like it's beef (or something like it) stew served with cornbread and green beans. Nothing fancy, but it was hot and pretty damn good over all. The female Lieutenant was named Carson. Lieutenant Carson sat down to eat with the squad.
"So what's the news from Chi-Town? Anything new and exciting? Things up here are kinda dead. Small town thing, I guess. We don't get much in the way of a nightlife, music or new vids."
Being his usual uncommunicative self, Khayman sat there nursing a cup a coffee and a bowl of the possible beef stew, while he let his boys talk to the lieutenant. He never understood the desire for people to make small talk, thinking they would all be better off emulating him.