Sugar and Spice

Zebra

"Volunteering, huh?" The man at the desk grumbled under his breath as he searched through a drawer, "We get a lot of those." Eventually, he found what he was looking for. He set a clipboard down in front of his client, and took a pen out of a nearby cup. "Fill out the sheet down to this line," he said, rather unenthusiastic about the whole ordeal, "and we'll take care of the rest."

His client didn't waste any time. She clicked the pen, and began to quickly write in what needed to be written in. Her name, phone number, street address, and other personal information required. She'd already gone through blood tests, physical exams, and background checks earlier in the day, and now she was getting to the final part of the registration process. When she finished, she returned the clipboard to the man, and he nodded.

"Thank you for showing your interest in the Diamond Dogs," he said as she made her way out the doors. Truthfully, he had no idea why the girl was even a little interested in joining their military group. She was short, and quick to decide on things. She barely made the requirements on her physical tests, and she just didn't seem like the military type. What's more, she was shooting for the combat team, and her fighting rank was a mere D.

Whatever though, he wasn't going to question her. Everyone had their own reason for joining the Diamond Dogs. Sometimes it just wasn't his place to know. Even so, he glanced down at what she put on the paper, looking for a name.

"Trinity..."

~!~

The first to step off of the helicopter was a man with white hair. As his foot hit the asphalt, he put his hands on his hips. Trinity noted that he looked more like a cowboy than a tactical instructor. The second person to leave the aircraft as it landed was a blond man who guided himself with a cane. He was missing both an arm and a leg, something the other volunteers thought to be jarring. Despite the fact that he concealed his eyes with aviators, his glare at the rookies was still obvious. This man was not a people person.

"Good morning," began the taller man, his hair brushing against his bright red scarf, "Soon, all of you will be assigned code names, and we will take this helicopter back to Mother Base." He introduced himself as Revolver Ocelot, the tactical instructor of the Diamond Dogs. The man behind him was Commander Kazuhira Miller. The two of them looked down the row of saluting volunteers, analyzing each one and giving them all code names. 

Commander Miller came down the line to Trinity, and stopped. He looked her up and down, then uttered the word, "Zebra". Trinity's head perked up, her eyes flicking over to the commander for a split second. "Zebra," he said again, "You'll be called Aberrant Zebra." The tone in his voice suggested something of annoyance, which worried Trinity to an extent. After a few seconds of staring, the commander moved on.

The rookies were loaded into the helicopter after everything was done and over with. Trinity, now Zebra, was placed in the front, sitting eye-to-eye with Commander Miller. She flashed him an uneasy smile, but his deep frown persisted. He seemed to be more interested in the sky from the start of the trip back to Mother Base.

"Now," Ocelot said between shaky laughs and nervous conversations, "The pilot here is Pequod. He's responsible for transportation to and from Mother Base." As he said this, Pequod gave a thumbs up without turning around. There were a few nods, but overall there was no big reaction or greeting for the pilot.

"Zebra," came Commander Miller's voice a few minutes later. Zebra looked up at her superior to find him looking through papers. 

"Yes, Sir?"

"You're shooting to be in the Combat Team, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Well," he began, "to put it nicely, your skill with combat is fucking garbage." He sneered a bit, looking through her stats, "we'll put you on the intel team for now."