ON HOLD - [Isle, 9] The Mercenary - A Fanfiction

[2] Faith

Commander's POV:

"Excellent work with the ML-28 sector. You wiped them out within hours." My XP-16 wrist guard beeped, the worlds forming on the mounted screen. "You will now remain at base. No new missions have been scheduled." The little screen retracted into my wrist guard, shutting off. I sighed. Gunner looked at me expectantly.

"Well? What's the situation, boss?" The man asked.

I grunted. "Nothing so far. We're on break I guess. No new assignments."

"That's good news. That must mean the mission is partially completed." Medic hummed. The man fixed his silver glasses. "You should go over mission statistics to evaluate each assignment completed. Go over each upside and downside, each tactical error can be fixed-"

"You sound like you're XP." I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. Sniper scoffed.

"I bet he is the one that created XP." The bald man noted dryly. Medic looked like he was going to snap back, but let it go.

"Whatever you say." The field medic stood up waving the shorter man off. "I don't take any note of intelligence in you." Medic grunted. He walked over to Spotter, who was cleaning his rifle. I leaned back on a crate in our designated meeting tent.

"You think Operator and his squad are still deployed?"

"Probably." Gunner hummed. "They tend to stay out longer." The large man stretched out his arms. "I'm gonna go to the range. I changed my sight yesterday, and I want to tweek it a little bit." Gunner nodded towards me before walking out of the tent.

Sniper shifted on his feet, before walking over to Spotter. Medic wandered over to me.

"I wish James was still alive." Medic sighed, mentioning the former commander. I nodded sympathetically.

"I agree, Matt. He did an arguably better job than I do. We worked as a better team." I shook my head. Medic placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't say that, Jacob. We all have our problems. I don't think outside the box. Ben is too sympathetic. Ryan has too much pride. Max doesn't give a damn for anything; everything is a game to him. And you," Medic poked my chest. "You don't understand that you aren't always the one to blame. You take the falls for all of us, when you certainly shouldn't have had to." Matt straightened his back. "You're a good commander. You just need to believe in yourself." The medic cracked his neck before turning away. "It's almost midnight. I recommend you hit the rack. Good night, Jacob."

"'Night, Matt." I muttered, following him out of the tent. I headed to my private tent. It is lightly furnished; a cot, small desk, mirror, chair, and footlocker the only things placed in the tent. I flicked my lantern on. Stripping myself from the tight restrictions of my combat attire, I remained in sweatpants, shirtless. I checked my back with my mirror. The scars littering the skin looked a bit swollen. I sighed.

"YOU IDIOT-"

"Shut up, dumb*ss, we're trying to sleep."

"Poker waits for no man!"

I collapsed on my bunk. The distant noises of my men arguing prevented me from falling unconscious. I groaned again. Damn you, B-Corp. Damn you.

Riley's POV:

I sat up, light streaming onto my face. Jordan and I sat up almost at the same time. Jordan and I sat up at the same time.

"Ah, glad to see you're not dead," Jordan yawned. I chuckled groggily.

"Wish I could say the same to you." Jordan gave me a look of feigned shock.