FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Warriors and Recruits

After a few days of staying at the manor with Ari and Ronin, Tom was almost healed. His chest still hurt like a bitch, but at least now the Spartan could spar with Rena for about an hour. Today was the day that the retired general, Darkamon, and his mate Hakuramon returned home. It was roughly around noon when Tom and Rena saw the two approaching the manor. The young Spartan was expecting Darkamon to be a Taomon, a Kyuubimon at the very least. So it came as a great surprise to Tom that Darkamonarrived in his Rookie form, the older Digimon preferring the smaller, more agile form than those of the larger and more cumbersome bodies he could go into.

At six foot five, he easily towered over all, with the exception of his mate, who was in her Kyuubimon form. The general had dark grey fur, with a mane only a few shades lighter. The red gauntlets stood out like a sore thumb, giving all who knew him a chance to surrender peacefully when they saw the ruby red gloves with the symbol of balance on its crimson surface. Darkamon's face was that of any old warrior; weathered, experienced, and wise. Unlike her mate, Hakuramon preferred her Champion level form of a stunningly beautiful Kyuubimon. Her fur was mostly gray, with only her eartips a blinding stark white.

Of the two, Rena had been the first to spot Darkamon. She jumped up from her meditation pose and ran up the retired general. During her admittedly depressing life with her father, she had grown quite close to the Renamon who had grown close to her heart. "Darkamon!" Rena cried out as she almost jumped right into Darkamon's arms.

Darkamon was surprised (and glad) that Rena was in his home, and hugged the girl right back. "By the Guardians of Harmony and Light themselves, Luna, you're back! It's been a year since anyone saw you, I was getting worried that you'd been deleted," Darkamon said excitedly.

Ari chuckled from the top of a tree in the courtyard. "Well, she is a crafty vixen, you know that father." Darkamon nodded.

"That she is Ari," said Darkamon. Turning to Rena, the general spoke softly, "I don't blame you for running off, but what brings you back? I know that it is not to comply with your father's wishes.

Rena looked over her shoulder at Tom, who was just standing up. "It has to do with my Tamer," she said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head as she moved to give the Renamon before her a better view of Tom.

Darkamon's eyes widened in surprise."A human?! My my, it has been such a long time since they have been in the Digital World. Tell me, what is your name, young human?"

Tom snapped to attention, a crisp salute in the air. Retired or not, the grey furred Renamon was still an officer, and he deserved respect. "Thomas J. Walls, sir," he said, looking Darkamon dead in the eye.

Darkamon chuckled. "Young one, there is no need for that, for we are safe here. And I have to say, you seem like a good match for her," he said, clasping Tom's shoulder.

Tom nodded. "Yes sir, we care a lot about each other."

Darkamon's mate spoke up finally, smiling as she did so. "I can tell. There is a strong bond between you two; I have never seen one quite like it."

"That's what I said after the assault. And sorry about the mess."Darkamon and his mate looked at their doorway, where the oddest creature they had ever seen stood. At five foot eleven, it wasn't as tall as Rena or Ari, but he did stand taller than Tom. Currently, it was wearing some sort of dark green vest, a grey shirt barely visible from the exposed collar, dark green pants that lay above a pair of matte black boots. It could've passed for a Commandomon, if it weren't for the fur and tail. Darkamon was sure surprised that the creature had snow white fur in the middle of summer. Currently, it was checking a rather long brick shaped gun.

Rena looked back towards the white furred soldier as well. "And he is the other reason that we're here. Apparently, that creature's friends want to take Tom away from me," she told Darkamon. Darkamon nodded as he walked up closer to the creature, inspecting him.

"I'm not familiar with your species. You're not a Digimon, that much I can tell, so then, why are you and your comrades trying to take away young Thomas?" he asked, the Digimon's yellow eyes looking over the creature as a potential threat, expression stern, but waiting for a response.

Ronin matched Darkamon's gaze equally. "I am Sergeant Major Nathaniel Ronin, First Dimensional RIFT Reconnaissance Battalion. My team was asked by the piece of shit intel agency he worked for to retrieve him by any means necessary," Ronin explained. "What they failed to mention was that the Spartan they sent with us had a hell of a grudge with Tom, and when we first met, instantly tried to kill Tom. That was essentially the last time I saw the bastard. We also had some old friends of ours pop up, and the rest of my team is currently residing in a village about twelve klicks from here. In light of those events, my CO canceled our mission with ONI and gave us a new one; keep Tom alive at all costs until our strategic lockdown ends and perform an exfil. As for what the hell I am, ask Tom." The Voxin put down the massive gun and took out his rifle, the San Madrid redwood gleaming brightly in the light.

The old general was not moved by Ronin's bluntness. Whether it was because he didn't care, or that he was used to it, Darkamon didn't let on. Turning his attention back to Tom, the Renamon spoke. "Hmm, so my young child, this warrior and his squad," Ronin's eyebrows shot up at the title of 'warrior,' "Wanted you before, but what warrants them to protect you? And what is he?" Darkamon asked.

Tom looked at Ronin, horrified. And people on Orion thought I had problems with officers. I would never speak to a general like that, retired or not, he thought. Looking to Darkamon, Tom answered. "I...I was part of a program that created super soldiers. The Spartan V Program." Tom gave Darkamon a condensed version of his story, telling him where he came from, what he was, and what species Ronin was. "But why they would change their minds about the mission is beyond my understanding at the moment sir," Tom finished, crossing his arms and looking at Ronin.

Darkamon's expression was that of slight amusement. "So you are a warrior; I thought I saw that spark in your eyes. But at the same time," he added, "You're not a typical warrior." No, young Thomas you are something special. "As for the...Voxin, as he is called, it sounds to me like he is now more ally than foe at the moment. You are all welcome to stay here for as long as you like, but I warn you, if Luna's father finds out that she's here and has a Tamer,...well, let's just say that he has a knack for taking things to the extreme. I suggest you do not leave the property until you are ready to leave."

Tom nodded. "Thank you sir," he said, bowing low at the waist.

Darkamon smiled. "What kind of host would I be if I were to let the PARTNER of my niece have nowhere to stay?" Tom's eyes widened at the mention of niece, while Ronin shrugged, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about me sir, I'll give one of them my room. Used to roughing it, and this gives me a good reason to patrol," Ronin commented, checking the time on his TMD as he went over to where the group was.

Hakuramon shook her head. "No nono, what kind of hosts would we be if we let you do that? Although we only have two rooms," she said coyly, looking at Rena. The young vixen felt her ears heat up in embarrassment at what her aunt implied.

"Well," Rena said, "Tom and I can share a room. I still want to make sure he's okay." Hakuramon nodded as though this was the only answer available.

"That's a splendid idea dear, you and your partner will be comfortable in the room we have in mind! That way, Ronin will have his space I assume?" the Kyuubimon asked, looking over at Ronin. He grunted in exasperation.

"Err,...thank you, ma'am, but you don't need to. We might need that room for triage, just in case something happens," Ronin said, his head hung down, ears burning red for the first time in months.

Darkamon nodded. "And you have no need to worry about the shadow creatures at all. Hakura and I disposed of some on the way back; they know they are outmatched. You have no need to patrol the area sergeant."

Ronin looked at the general with a deadpan look. "Sir, I don't care if it was my own damn base, I'm too damned careful to let up any chance of patrolling go away."

Darkamon sighed. "Do not worry young one, nothing will enter the manor while we are here," he told Ronin, walking off into the manor. Ronin huffed as he looked at the treeline. He knew they were being watched. It was only a matter of time, and it wasn't paranoia that told him that.

Rena saw that Ronin was still tensed up. "Relax fox," she said, using Tom's nickname for Ronin, "If my uncle says its safe, then it is. Now come on, my aunt makes really good dango!" She quickly dashed inside, dragging Tom in with her. Ronin came in with them, and after the first batch of dango hit the table, Ronin took a stick and left, armor on and rifle ready. Hakuramon looked at the retreating tail of Ronin oddly.

"Why didn't he stay?" she asked out loud to herself. To her surprise, Tom answered.

"Because he's the kind of guy who can't rest easy until he knows that everything is secure, and everyone is safe," Tom said quietly, looking at his stick of dango dispassionately. Ari tilted his head in confusion.

"Why would he do that? I mean, when my father says that the compound is secure, then it's secure," he said. Tom looked up at the young Renamon.

"Well, I don't know, and I don't think he'll tell us anyway." The group continued eating their meal, and about an hour after they were done, Ronin came back in, his rifle slung back over his shoulder and looking down at a small photo. The Voxin saw the mixed group of Digimon and human and tucked the photo away. Nodding to Darkamon, the furred sniper-scout went off to his room, taking his armor off as he did so. Rena and Tom quickly followed suit, walking into their new room. Tom gulped as he saw one thing off with the room; there was only one futon.

"Hey Rena, listen, how about you take the bed, I can sleep on the floor or the chair," Tom said, stripping his armor off. Rena gave him an odd look.

"Tom, the futon is big enough for the two of us to share," she said, touching Tom on the shoulder.

The young super soldier-barely-resisted the urge to turn his head into a ripe tomato. Tom looked back at Rena with a look of uncertainness on his face. Why am I so embarrassed about this? He thought, as he told Rena, "Uum, well,-"

Tom didn't get to finish as Rena cut him off. "You're still injured Tom, you need to sleep on a bed. To be honest, I wouldn't mind if we shared the bed," she told him in no uncertain terms. What she didn't tell him was that she wanted the two of them to share the bed.

Tom was about to say that there was no way he'd do it when just then, Ronin's drill instructor voice rang out from the other room. " CORPRAL!! " Tom within seconds was in Ronin's room, M6D searching the room for targets. The only thing he found was the Voxin sitting cross-legged on his futon, armor neatly assembled nearby, and revolver by his side. Tom was confused.

"Sir, what's wrong?" Tom asked, scanning the room.

Ronin's forest green eyes looked up to Tom's arctic blue ones. "Nothing, except for one little thing," he said, almost as if a paranoid Spartan barging into a room with a powerful pistol was normal. Which, considering what Ronin had done in the past, was pretty much true.

"Damn fox," Tom said, using a nickname he had given the Voxin a few days earlier. "I thought you were under attack or something. So, what's the problem?" Ronin nodded towards the wall.

"Reaper, how long have you lived in a barracks?" Ronin asked.

Tom looked at Ronin oddly as he reholstered his pistol. "All my life, why?"

Ronin smirked contentedly. "Think of sleeping on the same futon with Rena as being similar. Except that you're sleeping with the girl you like, and not some guy who wants to shank your ass to oblivion."

Tom's jaw dropped. He blushed, and quickly left the room. Going back into his and Rena's room, he saw that the vixen wasn't in the room. Tom really didn't care at the moment, because he was surprised to find that he was pretty doggoned tired. The Spartan took the M6 and holstered it, placing it next to the futon, knowing he was going to share the bed.

Normally, Tom would sleep in nothing more than his boxers and his bodysuit, but considering that he was in a safe area, he decided to wear something slightly more comfortable. He threw on a pair of old PT sweat pants and climbed into the futon. The moment his head hit the pillow, a rapidly falling into dreamland Tom started thinking about what Ronin had said to him. Rena soon came in, and after she took off her gauntlets, did the same. Looking at the back of her friend's head, Rena whispered, "Goodnight, my Tamer."

Tom was mostly asleep at this point, but he was awake long enough to say the same to Rena. The last thing that ran through his head was,this is better than sleeping in a barracks.

Rena closed her eyes, but for some reason couldn't find slumber at all. Something just seemed...missing. As she laid there next to Tom, the vixen started hearing him talk in his sleep.

"No, no, Rena...please, I can't lose you!..."

Rena was surprised at his words. Sure, she knew he had nightmares, but those were usually about losing Devin; this was uncharted territory for her. Rena surprised herself by putting her arms around Tom and pulled him closer to her. The way his body felt against hers-it just felt right to her. "Shh, it's okay Tom, I'm not going anywhere," she said softly into his ear.

Rena soon fell into a dreamless sleep, a smile on her lips.

Ronin was looking over a message that he had gotten a day ago from Varak. What it said wasn't good. There was apparently an army of shadow beings, a full company of Toshigan Special Operations, a battalion of Lupine assassins, five three man teams of Lupine Berserkers, and as Ronin had found out, elements from a Chronoinsurgent cell. Ronin huffed in grief as he read that Mother and Gym were both KIA, as well as over a dozen Renamon warriors who had evacuated the village. The only good news was Coyote had patched up his relationship with Rahne, but was mixed with the only somewhat bad news of needing medical attention for a few injuries. Still troubled, the sniper didn't really notice Darkamon come in until the elderly Renamon spoke up.

"Bad news from the rest of your team?"

Ronin nodded. "There's a small army in the area, and my team was defending the village we came from the night Tom, Rena, and I came to your home. I have two KIA, my superior officer wounded, and one soldier currently missing. And to top it all off, all we have in terms of supply is what we brought over with us initially," he said, tapping a button on his TACPAD.

Darkamon moved into the room. "Hmph, the size of the force matters little; it is the skill and cunning of the warriors who fight that matters," the old general said, standing by the door. "Now, I know little of the technology of the real world, but the laws of battle are universal, even against insurmountable odds. A warrior can succeed if they believe in themselves and in their brothers-in-arms. But the most deadly kind of warrior is the one that is fighting to protect that which is precious to them." Darkamon looked over to the wall where Tom and Rena's room shared with Ronin's. "You have powerful allies as well. That boy and my niece together possess great power. They just need to realize it themselves."

Ronin put the pad down and stared off into the void. "I...I can understand that. I'm fighting for someone I've only met once. Might help if I protected those two lovebirds," Ronin stated softly.

Darkamon smiled. "Now you are starting to think like a warrior. But think of those two as just lovebirds. They are more together than they ever would be apart; and they were powerful before."

"Sir, I know. My CO is mated to a Rahne of the Faint Smile, and I've been lucky enough to serve alongside with some of Tom's predecessors. And sir?" Ronin asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm not a warrior," Ronin said, "I'm just a man trying to find his way, that's all." The Voxin rubbed the back of his neck, a motion that didn't escape Darkamon's notice.

The general shook his head. "No mere man would risk his life to protect others he does not know. My young sergeant, you are a warrior whether you think so or not. You simply need to find out who you are; when you do, your path will become clear," Darkamon stated wisely. "And humbleness and modesty are virtues of a true warrior as well."

"No sir, it comes with being a slave since freed," muttered Ronin, his voice showing more emotion than was normal. Darkamon looked at Ronin oddly.

"A slave you say? But you're a former slave, are you not?" Darkamon asked. Ronin nodded. "Then as a free man, it was your choice to lay your life on the line for Thomas. And did you not volunteer for this solo mission?"

"Sir, the choices we make sometimes don't kill the ghosts of your past. There's a lot I'm not exactly proud of."

Darkamon nodded sadly. "There is a lot we may regret in our lives, but we cannot dwell on them. We learn and move on, that's the key to success."

Ronin shook his head in shame. "Not when you see the faces of the people you see in your scope, the moment before you take their life. Not when you lose so many people under your command." The sniper started thumbing through a sizable collection of silenced dog tags.

Darkamon looked down at the tags. "You feel regret for all who have fallen under your command? Then you and Thomas share more in common than you think. The past will only hurt the two of you if you let it." The general turned to leave, and at the door, said one last thing to the white furred sniper. "Perhaps I don't have the answers you seek. But maybe Thomas does." The general finally left the room, leaving Ronin alone.

Ronin sighed, falling into his futon, hoping he wouldn't have to be a pale angel of Death for longer than was necessary.

Next Day

Tom woke, feeling refreshed for once. Sure, he had a nightmare about losing Rena, but then the dream changed. He was being hugged in the dream, and it felt...nice. It was then that Tom noticed the extra pillow he knew he didn't place last night. It was soft and warm, and moving. Tom slowly turned his head and saw Rena holding him, her eyes closed in blissful sleep. The Spartan's face then decided to outshine a stop light. He liked the feeling, but this was the first time that he had actually been physically close to her and-her fur was really, really soft.

The Spartan laid there, both due to comfort, and in no small part to shock.

Ronin was up already, his daily ritual almost done with, with the addition of inspecting all of the weapons that he had taken off of the fallen soldiers' bodies. The sniper had particularly enjoyed cleaning the Type 13 Light Assault Cannon and the older than hell GR-4A1 rifles. Now the only thing he needed was coffee, and currently, MRE issue was the only choice. Walking down the hall, Ronin reached a door and opened it. He expected to see his equipment, not the Spartan V turning into a tomato just from being cuddled by his unofficial mate. Noting the rather compromising position, Ronin looked down at Tom, and waited.

Tom didn't even notice Ronin come in. Rena's eyes slowly opened up, the glittering emerald orbs making his heart skip a beat for no known reason to Tom. Rena smiled as she looked into Tom's blue eyes. "Good morning Tom," she said sleepily, just now noticing Tom's red face.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I Corporal?"

Tom almost jumped through the roof as he heard the oddly humor filled voice of the Voxin come out from behind him. Looking at the other sniper, Tom opened and closed his mouth like a fish; never before in his life had he been so...wordless about anything. But the display of affection that Rena had given him, well, that was something that was entirely new for him. "Sir, this is not what it looks like," he said, resorting to that time old military fallback for compromising positions. "I just woke up like this, uh, nothing happened! Everything's fine!"

Rena looked at Tom. "No you're not! It was cold last night and you were shivering in your sleep!" she said. The vixen didn't tell him about the nightmare that had disturbed Rena, or the real reason she was still embracing him. But, with some reluctance, she got up, stretched, and left the room, tail swaying gently as Ronin moved aside for her to leave. The Voxin looked over at Tom.

"Dammit, it's too early in the morning for this, I need some coffee. Reaper, report to me at 1000 hours, I want to talk to you about something," he said slowly, backing out of the room. Ronin may have been the third best sniper in the multiverse, but he was number one in not being social. With that, Ronin went to his room to prepare himself a cup of energy giving Joe.

Tom couldn't even make a remark about Ronin not being able to order him around. But as Tom looked up at the ceiling, he wondered about why Rena holding him made his heart race. Sighing, he got up and put on a simple outfit of ACU TACPants and a plain black t-shirt emblazed with the grey letters U.N.S.C. Attaching his sidearm to his thigh, Tom grabbed an MRE and went to the dining room to eat his quick made meal of bacon and eggs. Five minutes later, Tom had finished devouring his breakfast, and after putting the trash away in his rucksack, Tom went next door to Ronin's room.

Ronin was glad that he had coffee. For the past few days, the Voxin had only gotten about three hours of sleep, if that, so he was understandably drop-dead tired. After considering the current situation with Zack and all the other hostiles, Ronin had decided to do something that was most likely very stupid. Hearing his door open, Ronin looked over and saw Tom standing there. Looking to both his datapad and his TMD, Ronin quirked an eyebrow. "You're early," he stated simply.

"And that's a bad thing?" Tom asked as he actually took a good look at Ronin's room. It was spotless, and seeing the futon, the Spartan noted that it looked almost as if Ronin hadn't slept in it at all. Nearby was Ronin's rifle, neatly disassembled in easy to put back together pieces. There was also a datapad sitting on the table in front of Ronin.

Ronin shook his head. "Not usually something I see in a candidate." He motioned to the spot across from him at the table. "Please, take a seat. Hopefully this won't take long."

Tom looked at where Ronin pointed. "Candidate...what won't take long?" Tom asked as he sat down before Ronin.

Ronin put down the coffee and looked at Tom. "I want you to answer the following questions to the best of your ability," he said, ignoring Tom's question. "Can I trust you to do that?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah."

"Good," Ronin said. "First; what is your skill set?"

Tom looked at Ronin sheepishly. "Well, I've been trained in advanced, multi-discipline hand to hand combat, special operations and application marksmanship, stealth recon, and target painting. I'm pretty mean with my plasma swords as well, and of course my normal Spartan training."

Ronin nodded. Other than being a Spartan, similar skill set as himself. "So why be a sniper?"

Tom shrugged. "Command said I was to be trained as a sniper, so I was. Got to be so good, I currently hold a few records in marksmanship. And there's something about tracking a target that gets the blood flowing."

Ronin resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. He had the guy version of Linda-058 in front of him. "Okay. Now, what did you consider wrong with ONI?" Ronin hoped to hell that this wasn't much of a personal question.

Tom looked at Ronin blankly. "Long version or short?"

Ronin shrugged. "Whichever you feel like telling me."

Tom snorted. "Since we probably don't have much time, I'll stick with the short version. ONI was a bunch of selfish bastards who were concerned with clandestine political runs for obtaining even more power than they already had. They basically killed the UNSC of old," Tom said coldly, his hand clenched and shaking.

Ronin bowed his head. "I see." Ronin could tell that there was a lot of bad blood in this, and decided not to push it. "So," Ronin asked, "What is your impression of the Dimensional RIFT Reconnaissance, after seeing us in action?"

Tom looked up, startled. "Well, you're pretty good at showing up at the wrong time, but aside from that, it seems like a good team."

Ronin shrugged. "Sorry, we can't predict the future. Not allowed to, and it's damn near impossible. And plus, we aren't just a commando sized group either."

Tom nodded. "Yeah, back on Orion, we used to hear scuttlebutt about you guys. Patrolling the multiverse or something to that effect like an interdimensional police force or something."

"In layman's terms, yes," Ronin said as he tapped away at the datapad. "What we are is a shield to key universes, peacekeepers in most of them, and preservers of those not ready to join the balance of power in the multiverse. And we offer safe haven for those with troubled pasts. Like myself, for instance." Ronin put the pad down and motioned for Tom's hand.

Tom hesitantly gave the Voxin his hand. Taking it, Ronin put the Spartan's hand over the back of his neck, letting him feel the remains of the tracking beacon. "You feel that?" Ronin asked.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, feels like a standard issue tracking chip. I've seen them all the time on...on...." Tom stopped as realization about Ronin's past dawned on him. "Slaves," he said breathelessly, taking his hand away from the Voxin's neck.

Ronin's eyes didn't waver as memories of his 'childhood' flashed before his eyes. "Yes, I was one. SM-VG1S-094532 was my slave designation," Ronin explained. "My first master and my mother named me Nathaniel. I escaped after shooting my second master, cut out the guts of the tracking beacon, and survived for a year in the wilds of San Madrid. I was then recaptured by my master and tortured. I was saved when the Toshigan came to take over San Madrid. I had killed that bastard of a master in the initial hour of the attack, and was saved. Back then, he was only a Second Lieutenant, but he was the only one who knew both how to operate the Reflex Armor and to be human." Ronin closed his eyes in memory. "I imprinted on him as my new master, and I don't regret that decision at all. I owe him my life." Ronin then looked at the unit patch on his uniform; the hexagonal delta, the stylized silver dragon, the vibrant blue in the delta...it all served to harden Ronin's resolve. "Being a Drifter isn't about being the perfect soldier, or keeping the peace at all costs. It's about doing the right thing, even if no one walks that road with you. Especially if it's only you who should walk that road." Ronin looked back at Tom. "I believe you have that in you."

Tom looked uneasy. "Are you sure about that? You know about the monstrous things I had to do for ONI, and those weren't always the right things," he said, looking down at his feet.

"Ever heard of the French Foreign Legion?"

Tom looked up in confusion. "Yeah, but what do they have to do with anything?"

Ronin genuinely smiled. "Because like them, we give all a fresh start, within reason. After a few strings are pulled, you won't ever have to worry about your version of ONI ever again. Ronin slid the pad over to Tom.

Tom looked at it incredulously. "Y-You want me to join you guys?" he asked in disbelief. This made him happy, but there were a few things on his mind. Did he really want to chance being put back in the same situation that ONI put him under, and then there was the question of Rena....

Apparently Tom's thoughts were on his face, because Ronin then told him the punch.

"Two year mandatory service, re-enlist as often as you want. Three years, and you can have a civilian job while you go through the reserve period. Right now, you can skip basic and AIT, but I can't give you this," Ronin said, pointing to his TMD. "You sign, and you're no longer a member of the UNSC, you are a member of the craziest frat house in existence, with people who care about you as a person, not a statistic." Ronin took out a stylus and held it over to Tom. "Best part is, your friend comes back to Bragg with us."

Tom looked between Ronin and the datapad in disbelief. Could this really be true? Oh, fuck it. Tom took the stylus from Ronin and signed down near the bottom of the pad. "He, you know Fox, the way you describe it, you have a promising future in the recruiting business. But ya know what, I've got nothing to lose, so I'll see how legit you are myself," Tom said, finishing his signature and sliding the pad over to Ronin.

"Thank you," said Ronin as he finalized the digital paperwork. Even on the field, he couldn't escape the dreaded paperwork; now he knew why his CO loved fieldwork. "Now all we need to do is slap the unit patch onto your armor. And now," Ronin added, realization hitting Tom like a gold brick wrapped in lemon, "I need you, Corporal, to check our stockpile of weapons and do an ammo count if possible, starting with this. I may have missed a few things, considering the state I was in earlier." Ronin handed Tom his revolver.

Tom took the massive pistol and looked at it. Sure, he had held it when he met the Voxin the first time-and disarmed him, but he never actually looked at it. Along the Picatinny Rail on top of the gun, there was some intricate floral detailing along the barrel, stopping just short of the muzzle. On the cartridge cylinder, there was what appeared to be an etching of a forest. The grip was mostly normal, except for all of the inlaid red wood. Damn, if Tom had to guess, the grip alone weighed five pounds! Taking out a bullet, Tom's eyes widened at the .700 Magnum slug weighed down in his hand. "Isn't this a bit excessive for a sidearm sir?" he asked.

Ronin shook his head, body in the doorway and holding a shovel. "No. Besides, the bullets work well on Toshigan armor, seeing as I forgot which ones are mass-reactive. Have fun with the rest." With that, the sniper left, leaving the recruit to his duty. And now Tom smiled. He had assured Rena's safety with him, and he had essentially severed any connections with ONI. His life was getting better.