The British are coming!

Posted on Sat Jul 31st, 2021 @ 8:12pm by Gunnery Sergeant Simon Haversham

Mission: Jumping Right In
Location: SGC Antarctica
Timeline: MD1 - 2117 hrs
605 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Simon wasn't exactly sure what to make of things as the A400M carried him across the sea to his new deployment. He felt a little lonely, sitting all alone in the capacious cargo hold; he could probably have gone and found some company in the cockpit, but somehow he didn't feel so keen on disturbing the pilots as they flew through unfamiliar skies over an ice cold, deadly sea.

Resolving to put such morbid thoughts out of his head, he leaned back against his seat and tried to tune out the noise of the engines. At least there was plenty of legroom, after all.

Shutting his eyes, he reflected back on what brought him here. A very distinguished service record, of course; never a failed operation, and a whole string of commendations, both for his regular service and the stuff he wasn't allowed to talk about. But really, where it all started, was that fateful day in his father's office.

"Well, Simon," He said, leaning back in his chair, a glass of brandy in one hand. "It looks like it's you after all."

"No thanks to you," Simon replied, though there wasn't any venom in his voice.

"No thanks to me," the Admiral agreed. "You know how it is... If I don't argue against you, people will all start singing about favouritism. It doesn't look like it matters much, anyway. I'd be proud of you, if it weren't for the fact that you ought to be in command of your own ship by now. But I suppose it is what it is... At least I know we've got someone we can trust to teach the yanks how real special forces do things."

Stifling a chuckle, Simon nodded. "Oh, don't worry, I'll give them a good example. With any luck, I'll get to do something about those aliens, too." Now there was venom in his voice, a quick thought flashing back to his uncle Gussy as he recalled that white hot anger. "So I'm going to Antarctica to show the flag. The usual stuff, I suppose... Not a word to anyone?"

"Exactly. You've got clearance to send reports back to the MOD, but beyond that... Not a word, just as you say. You'll be flying out in three days. I don't need to tell you what to do, and everything you need to know is on the docket. Good luck, son."

And that had been it; there were goodbyes, of course, and a small party held by his fellow commandos, but that had really been the start of this new career. It was daunting, dropping everything he knew to take this new post, but he was determined to do his duty and make his nation proud.

Then his reverie was brought to an abrupt end as the plane tilted sharply down and a voice over the intercom said, "We're starting our descent, sergeant. Buckle in."

It wasn't exactly the smoothest ride he'd ever taken, but the fact that there was no one shooting at him made it a refreshing change of pace. He didn't even have to jump out at the end! Sparing a chuckle for the thought that he'd probably landed rather fewer times than taking off, he grabbed his kit and made his way over to the side door, giving the cockpit a salute before climbing down the ladder into the bitter cold. The blizzard waiting for him didn't exactly say promising things about his new home, but he was still optimistic; after all, this was his chance at last, to get those bastards for what they did to Gussy, and the world.