Into The Rift

Return To Sender (19)

They were just following orders, that I can fully understand and respect.

A flurry of emotions run just beneath my skin, managing only to incite a small tilt of my head. Since yesterday, they have been allowed access outside that holding room. It should be fine, as long as they are under an armed escort.

This is the case, but the detachment had only two soldiers instead of the previous four. Just like the rest of the garrison, their numbers are cut in half.

I centre my sights onto the dark azure of the lady's newly returned armor set, tracing my eyes over its sleek but angular features from a distance. It gave her an aura of unwavering pride. This demeanor is further strengthened by the resolute posture she had on display, nicely complimenting the feminine grace of her armor.

Her words with the researchers are spoken in a confident tone. No doubt she is leading the conversation, this anomoly brings forth my curiosity. I halt my steps, turning my full body towards them, allowing the helmet's audio receptors to siphon the context of the conversation.

For a brief period, my assigned duty went to the back of my head. ".........." As expected, the researchers are speaking in their language.

The lessons were in the beginning stages, I didn't know much about Faction Beta's language, but the basic gist of what's being said didn't escape me.

I nod my head, mentally patting myself on the back, thanking my affinity for picking up knowledge fast.

No doubt about it, the linguistics team is pilling onto them in an effort to gain last minute infomation about their language and customs.

Their persistent curiosity is a tad bit amusing, but it was overshadowed by my well deserved respect. These men and women are doing us a favour by filling in the role of the middle man....so to speak.

From my peripheral, I spot the visage of a fellow UNSOG operative, heading towards my position with intent.

From the soldier's formidable gait and air, it didn't take much thought to discern who is behind that black visor. With a semblance of a smile behind my own, I turn towards Douglas.

Like a missle my attention homed in on his form. "Douglas." I greeted him curtly, adding a nod of acknowledgement for good measure.

"Jerome you're off track from your patrol.." He points out, words sounding cold but respectable.

His words shifted my head back into gear. Douglas is right, my patrol pattern is off the grid.

Steeling my composure, I give my Second-In command the reply. "Yea...I am." My eyes trail back to the soon to be released captives.

"Tomorrow they'll be escorted to Drossal." I commented, formulating my next set of words.

Trailing my eyes, Douglas shoots me his opinion. "This is the last day for the researchers, their actions are understandable."

"Think that'll be enough time?"

Douglas gives a shrug, seeming content with maintaining his distant demeanor. "The two of us aren't qualified enough to make any assumptions."

Under the soft touch of the sun, I give him a nod. "Agreed...." I pause, my instincts alerting me to prying eyes on my form.

Turning to the source, three pairs of eyes met mine. I match the intensity of their gazes, not backing down in the slightest.

Three blue, gold trimmed helmets....against the dark grey's of me and Douglas.

In a wordless fashion we conveyed our barely hidden aminosity, trusting the message to able to escape our respective visors.