Good Morning...2043?!

Chapter 10 - Mission One [EDITED]

Jonathan POV

I slowly opened my eyes to see the sun streaming through the ballistic glass from the outside, the extensive forest and snowy mountain tops just barely peeking over the treetops made for stunning scenery. I yawned and sat up, still seeing the ankle cuff tightly clamped to my leg was a bit annoying however. I threw the covers off and threw on my jungle fatigues. The bed was much more comfortable than any I had previously slept on, which was a plus. It was astounding, to simply flick a miniature lever on the wall and instantly have power as well! I was accustomed to needing to manually start up a generator, then manually connect cords to the barracks, the upgrade was certainly pleasing.

As I securely tied my boot laces together, I heard a knock on the door. I walked over and opened the door, and a panther in a plain, gray uniform simply walked in as if he owned the place. He peered around at everything, as if looking for something. After a while, he turned to me, seemingly satisfied, and looked me up and down. "Interesting attire human, but I don't care. The General wishes to speak to you. Move it faggot." I scowled, not pleased with the level of disrespect, but disregarded it. I motioned for him to walk. "Lead the way then." He smirked, relishing his position of power over me before leading the way down the hall.

-Time Skip-

Jonathan POV

It was irritating to have to rely on this racist fuck, but I didn't say that out loud. I thanked him before knocking on the General's door. "Come in." I heard him call out from inside, and I walked in. It was a somewhat modern office, shelves to the side held a few curiosities, a .50 caliber shell casing, a slightly tarnished Desert Eagle, a broken light bulb, and watch, the glass covering the hands; A spiderweb of cracks. I turned to face the General, he was sitting at his desk, reading a few papers. There was a small mug on the corner of the desk, several pens and pencils sitting idly inside. I sat down in a small chair facing the General and studied a painting on the wall just behind the General.

It seemed to depict an Anthro and a human, both standing before each other in a war-torn battlefield. They both seemed to be studying each other, their weapons half-lowered from each other. "...uman? Human? Hello?" I snapped out of my trance. I quickly looked to see the General peering at me, mild concern quickly forming on his face. "Are you alright? You appear disoriented." I shook my head. "N-No sir, I was just ah...admiring your painting there. Uh, what was it you wanted me for?" The General picked up a paper from his desk and offered it to me, I took it and read it over. "Approximately four hours ago, one of our choppers experienced unknown issues, and went down in an unknown location.

A distress signal was received roughly thirty minutes after radar contact was lost. We've managed to establish clear but brief contact with the squad. There was recently a small militia unit that currently occupies the area. They have been confirmed to have committed several war crimes against human and UF forces. They are to be considered hostile, though no confirmation if they are still in the area. You are to join a simple search and rescue mission. This is merely a test of your loyalty to the UF. Any objections or questions?"

I thought for a moment, it wasn't even a week since I agreed to join, and they were already sending me out on missions? Intriguing, but I wasn't overly concerned about it. "Should I be concerned about any of your soldiers shooting me?" The General seemed to think for a moment, slowly stroking his maw and looking off into space. "...No, I wouldn't consider it an issue. Your ah, older-style gear should be easy indicators, if you still want them that is." I was a tad confused on what he meant by 'older style' but didn't give it much thought.

"Yes, I would prefer to keep my own gear how it is. The only difference, however, is that I would like my radio to be tuned to your frequencies, I'm not aware if they already have been re-tuned or not, but I'd prefer to be able to communicate with my counterparts at all times. The General nodded and picked up a small, black, rectangular object off his desk and appeared to do something with it, a small swishing sound was heard, and he placed it back down on his desk. "I'll have my mechanics re-tune your radio as we speak, it should be ready shortly.