Healing periods always feel shorter every time they happen, granted the last time I was injured I had been miracle healed by that vanishing sword "Blasphemy" but my team began to get back on their feet immediately after returning to base.
It wasn't long before we were working out regularly again and once more gaming in the lounge room and engaging in intimacy (not in the lounge room).
Singleton had reported the events of the mission to Benz and them, and so we were recognized for our skills and given more medals for distinguished service and raised an agent rank.
Whatever that meant, nobody ever bothered to tell us what that meant, so yay rank up, I guess?
The mission that I'm about to detail has a bit of a windup, events that led to us getting assigned THIS mission in particular, so bear with me.
Because of our mission success, we felt pretty badass, it was like we'd been validated for what we were for the first time since Trigram, so we got a little cocky.
We were playing a fighting game on the TV in the lounge room in our pajamas basically, generally being loud teens about it, cheering each other on and whatnot, when a large man in Houska uniform walked over and turned off the game console.
I'm not talking color coded fatigues like Singleton wore, the pressed jacket adorned with medals and the slacks with nary a wrinkle told me he was someone close to Benz or Pilum.
I had been winning, so I put the controller down and stood up, the top of my head coming up to about this guy's chest, he was swole and he looked pissed.
"The FUCK was that for??"
He set a hand on my shoulder, the subtle weight was telltale of an attempt at intimidation, his voice was even and calm, but I knew he had nothing but contempt for me and mine, "Son, if you're gonna make noise in here, I suggest it be taken down to a dull roar, for now though, you and your friends can leave, the boys and I want to watch the game and we're tired of waiting for y'all to finish up."
I hear a general murmur of approval from the table across from the couch, peopled with other Houska employees, wearing the same fatigues as Singleton had.
"Am I clear, Agent Green?"
I hear my squad stand up behind me as I look him dead in the face, he wasn't twitchy, that meant he was confident and that was gonna make him sloppy.
"I'm not your son," I say as I purposefully fall backward. he makes a pretty fast grab for me but my torso is already out of reach as I bring my foot up, using the momentum of my fall to connect the inertia enhanced kick to his crotch as I collide with the floor, he grunts in pain and instead of pausing or bending over, raises a penny loafer covered foot to stomp on me only to be taken the fuck out by Edge who had been thrown by Love, Edge latching on to laughing boy's head, using his gecko fingertips to dig into to his face as he flew past, removing a large shred of skin, the momentum of the throw still carrying him past our attacker, the sudden stop of latching on to his face throwing both of them to the floor, blood everywhere, screaming as the guy's friends came to back him up.
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"We thought you kids had been taught to take orders!" shouted one of them as he rushed forward. I looked at him with a squint in my eye, "We were taught to take orders, not disrespect."
Another of the big guy's friends menaced us with a pool cue, "I'm gonna do a lot more than disrespect you, if you don't leave, Kid!"
I looked at the others with a questioning look, seeing I was handing her the proverbial mic, Wolf spoke up, "No, you guys were fucked the moment Laughing boy, here, turned off our game!"
There were 6 of them, but Love evened the odds pretty easily by using a piece of the couch (it was a sectional) we'd been sitting on as a shield and club, swinging it in large arcs to clear any attackers.
Wolf did a straight leg slide between Love's legs and pounced on one of the guys she had been swinging at while Edge made sure the big guy was unconscious.
I looked for an opening and dove between an additional attacker and Wolf, laughing as he hadn't seen me coming, I used my elbow to fracture his jaw! Another of the guys immediately pounced on me as Edge joined the larger fight.
I was being pummeled in the face by this new guy before we were all forcibly separated by security personnel who held us at gunpoint until the captain took us all to a separate room where we were made to wait.
A few hours later, MAL came in with bad news.
We were being sent on another mission as punishment for our misconduct.
Team Sigma had no clue why this was bad news (we wanted more work) we didn't ask why, we just cared about where what and how.
Apparently, the derelict Trigram splinter had shown its ugly mug again outside a distant mechanized Houska facility used for containment of indestructible threats, mechanized meaning that all the defenses and security measures were lorded over by a cold, calculating computer overlord known as "AI-742."
Anyway, the whole thing is called "The Box" and it's on a small island just off of Galveston.
We suited up and met Singleton at the loading dock where he greeted us, looking upset, "You guys can't just relax can you?"
I squint at him, confused if nothing else at what he meant, he elaborated, "So the guy you guys so casually disfigured was a friend of mine, I was on leave when I got the call that you guys were being sent on another punishment mission."
I shrug, still feeling immense satisfaction that we taught big shit a lesson, "maybe you should pick better friends, he's a prick."
Singleton looked upsetedly at me, "He JUST got that promotion, and your friend Edge ripped his face off."
Edge scoffed, "part of his face."
Singleton snarled, "Thats not better!!"
I sighed, but then so did Singleton, "It's alright...I'll let it go for now, we'll deal with this later."
After that small argument, we all loaded up in the APC for a three-week-long mission and started for Galveston.
It took half a day to get to "The Box", 5 hours to Galveston from Love Field where HQ is, and then another 6 to the Island in question. The Box itself was a massive structure looming out of the ground on a large rock poking out of the sea that looked to be 40% cliff with a small quarter being devoted to a tranquil-looking beach, the building on the sand bar looked like a big bucket.
It was large, metal, and round with no other discernible features.
Don't know why they called it "the box." The thing was a cylinder.
Anyway, it wasn't immediately evident that any intruder was present, so we decided to make camp on the beach where we landed.
The island was more than just a rock, now that we were here near it, we could see it obviously had trees, oddly enough they were oaks and not palm trees.
Singleton left to collect firewood, Wolf and I set up the tents, Edge set up the generator and Love opted to sit in the sand, because why not?