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4/22/2016 11:53:41 PM
1
"Yeah, we'd seen that. Fūckin' hell man..." [i]The newest addition to the team, Hutch, said in response. His onyx black hair matched his outfitting perfectly, which made his pale skin stand out amidst the dark colours, and in turn made his emerald eyes shine brightly compared to the gazes of his blue-eyed comrades. [/i]
English
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"Well, let me be the first to welcome you three to this little piece of hell. Likely we'll fight side by side to survive, and who knows one of us may live."
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"Ah. Well, I'm Hutch, this here is Diana and JT." [i]He responded to the guardsman before him, gesturing towards the pair of people that rested across the table. [/i]
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"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my names Thomas Brantley. Guardsman of the 27th Harakoni Warhawks."
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"Pleasures all mine, sir. Now you mind telling me why half the bar is at odds with the other?" [i]The cowboy politely asked, being slightly confused. [/i]
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"We've been at war since those blasted traitors turned on us and sacked terra. They follow the chaos gods, killing for sport and pleasure, spreading disease, burning worlds. We are the imperium of humanity, the last bastion of order, followers of the god emperor."
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"You guys have the Space Marines, right? An old contact of mine told me about a few Chapters, said he knew a Chapter Master or something."
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"Yes their the golden children of the imperium. Toughest men we have, thanks to all of the modifications. But don't discount us guardsmen, normal humans we may be, we're as capable as any."
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"Very true. Especially when you're outnumbering them so bad that the enemy can't even move."
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"Very true. Some regiments operate on the assumption that if they throw enough men at a problem it'll go away."
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"Yeah well, as the owner of a PMC I can tell you right now how stupid that tactic is."
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"It works for them. Regiments from my homeworld have the opposite mentality, we're well trained and well equipped for when we drop behind enemy lines."
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"Well your regiment sounds like a sensible one."
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"We try, our lineage dates back to before humanity had mastered space travel, paratroopers try were called."
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"Heh, met a few of them back home. Please tell me you have more than just a parachute where you can be shot from the sky?"
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"Grav chutes, like parachutes but faster an harder to hit."
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"Interesting. Well if I see a guardsman I'll be sure to thank him for his service." [i]Hutch responds to Thomas. [/i]
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"We appreciate it, but none of that matters really if we don't get off this ship."
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"Well, I intend to get off, so I'll still be doing it. Gotta be an optimist here, at least that's how I'm seeing things."
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"Optimism is in short supply these days, perhaps more people should try to be that way, or perhaps realists are the way to go. Who can say."
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"Pessimists see that their is no hope in our case, and realists will say the same. It's the optimists that think we have a sliver of hope." [i]Hutch replied, a smile resting on his face. [/i]
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The guardsman looked at the other two people sitting at the table, this man was a strange one. "Keep your optimism, you're gonna need it."
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"That's true man." [i]The cowboy exclaimed, shooting the guardsman a glance. [/i]
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"Well, I've brought this conversation down long enough and bugged you folks for long enough too. I'll see you all around I suppose, have a good day." With that he stood returned the chair to its rightful place, collected his helmet and lascarbine from the bar and left.
