28.1 Takeover

  Maeven wakes up the next morning feeling reinvigorated. A rush of carpe diem as soon as she opens her eyes. For a while she lays still in her bed, examining the feeling no longer musing over yesterday’s helicopter ride. She kind of expects it to perish at any moment.

  It doesn’t, yet. Her sheet falls to her lap as she sits up and realises Victor is the only other assignee awake. He’s sitting on his bunk shrugging on his VR jacket. Beside her on the ground, Miura’s watch is splayed on top of his backpack reading 07:02.

  She looks at Win sleeping on the next bed over, with his own sheet kicked to the floor and his foot dangling over the canvas.

  He had been so patient last night to listen to her talk. She feels like she subjected him to an unloading of sorts, and though it was extremely cathartic to do so she feels a little guilty in hindsight. Win responded with the best thing he could have offered in that moment, which was to simply hear her out. She couldn’t have asked for more. Now her thoughts and feelings that had built up over the course of her Will Block, her not-Will-Block, is permanently etched into another person’s mind. She didn’t implode because of it. Nobody died. They’re all going to carry on as normal, and maybe one day, it’ll get brought up again.

  Maeven smooths her hair and gets out of her bunk to fix her sheet and pillow.

  Friends. She actually doesn’t mind that at all.

  Five minutes before meeting time. The assignees of Sky, Sand and Ocean gather at the briefing tent. Maeven is the first to enter the flap, seeing Eyeshot leaning on a desk that’s centred at the end of the room. A plastic tub is sitting atop it.

  The User reaches into the tub and hands her a zip loc bag with her name written on it. Inside is a thin metal box. “Riel, for you.”

  Maeven takes the bag and examines it.

  They’re being handed back their pads.

  Eyeshot returns the pads to each of them as they file in. To Ina, then Victor, then Henri. Last time the devices were in their possession they were still on Leichman’s ship, dropping them into that tub Captain Mills dragged rope-bound down the hallway. Tinges of excitement emerge as assignees unbag the metal cases, swipe the air to check if the pixels inside are still working, and place them in the pocket of their VR pants reassured by its familiar weight. Even so, it’s not enough to cut through the overlaying tension that has already invaded the briefing tent from the moment they arrived.

  “Why are we getting our pads back?” asks Gunner. His is still bagged under his grip. Eyeshot hands out the rest of the pads and doesn’t answer. Room quiet, she then drops the emptied tub to the dirt.

  She starts off the meeting by narrowing a question at Maeven, voice lowered.

  “You told them about your mission?”

  Maeven responds with a nod.

  “OK.” Eyeshot pushes herself from the desk to stand. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you like this, but. It is what it is.” She steps forward. “The goal of this year’s campaign was to eliminate a Willed virus that prior to us coming here began spreading down from the very north of Mortareste. It is an irreversible virus that turns Mortaresis into—what do you call this—zombies. They herd together, oftentimes commit swaths of violence before finally and slowly decaying to death.”

  The way she informs them is so matter-of-fact it’s almost flippant, as if the information were now merely secondary.

  “The plan—was to leverage on our resources, supply of Users, and a preliminary dismantling of The Black Ammunition, to overwhelm the epidemic. The Nesters—we call them—are already dead. They are walking shells, and only in some of the sites do they have access to firepower,” she says. “It was not expected to take long to complete eradication. But Riel discovered something at the reconnaissance mission she mentioned to you yesterday. The city.”

  There are a few nods among the assignees.

  “So yesterday I had a call with VR headquarters and the SOC. After that, an Intuitive from Enterprise landed in South Sarafiyah for a risk evaluation. A risk re-evaluation,” corrects Eyeshot. “It’s protocol. We had a similar evaluation prior to the campaign being handed down from the Marines Corps to The Reserve. Assignees—the point is, the level has changed in the existential threat placed on this country.”

  She pauses only for a moment.

  “There is a User in Mortareste.”

  Maeven thinks that over.

  That fact was at least a given since the arrival of the VR, the Willed visitors of Al Suit and the deceased leadership of the Black Ammunition. The way Eyeshot announces it though isn’t seemingly to state the obvious, but to point out a revelation. The Intuitive that evaluated Sarafiyah, whoever they are, somehow figured out in mere hours that the person who banished the city is still here in Mortareste. They’re lurking around up to who-knows-what.

  Which also means the evaluator from Enterprise, a top-tier guild company, was able to pick up on a Signature in that same barren land where Maeven couldn’t get so much as a whiff of resonant Will.

  She wonders who that User was.

  Eyeshot moves on, “There have been many developments since that investigation and they all concur with the same decision regarding the state of the VR’s campaign with Mortareste.”

  This is when the murmurs begin. She can hear the sounds of fabric as assignees uncross their arms and look at each other.

  “It appears that this User is one such that it breaches the allowed jurisdiction of risk to the UL Voluntary Reserve. As of this morning, The Voluntary Reserve has withdrawn from the campaign code-named: ‘Nester’, and it is now under the complete ownership of the Secret Operatives Commission,” she finishes, “You’ve been asked to go home.”

  Utterances uptick. Whispers, questions and quiet expletives meld together into a mess indistinguishable to Maeven’s ears.

  “Home?” says Gunner.

  There was a level of consideration that must have taken place before the decision to hold the VR responsible for Mortareste passed through. It’s not like The Reserve could take campaigns like whatever-as-they-desired. There are rules.

  A formal agreement for take-over, one which must have been paired with some sort of caveat—that as long as the threat of the mission remained within a certain parameter of risk, the VR was allowed to stay operating in Mortareste. Withdrawing the VR as a result of its breach was a development she could have predicted after what she saw during her recon mission, now that she thinks about it. She must have been too wrapped up in her own personal issues to consider it.

  After all, most of the assignees are just regular men.

  “Everyone from Sky Company: Victor Stendahl, Henri Trinh, Eliza Gold, Doom, Jackson Farrington,” Eyeshot calls, speaking over the noise, “From Sand Company: Kotel, Rain, and Hara Yoo; Ocean: Maeven…” There’s a pause. “Win Miura…” And finally, “Forrest Xin.”

  “Remain in the tent,” she commands.

  Some of the assignees hush as they hear their names being called, though the talking doesn’t cease. In the meanwhile, Maeven discerns the unnamed assignees:

  Gunner and Callum; Adi and Patrick from Sand Company.

  “One more thing and the rest of you, I let you go,” says Eyeshot. “Assignees, thank you. I knew from the beginning that the majority of this group were much capable of dismantling The Ammunition. Still, you exceeded my expectations. I think, you have done a lot to tilt the campaign towards our convenience, but not only that, you have supported the prosperity of a country ally for many, many years. I am not speaking on the behalf of an organisation, understand? I’m speaking as a witness. Well done. Full remuneration and bonus will be sent to you next Wednesday. OK?”

  She ends with a shoo of her hand.

  “This blows!” shouts Gunner.

  Behind them, Callum has gripped his teammate by the elbow, trying to leave with him as was requested. Adi and Patrick on the other hand have already begun their egress; they started to leave before Eyeshot could finish expressing her thanks.

  “To deal with the challenge of a roaming User relying on The Reserve is irresponsible and difficult,” says Eyeshot. “This is just how it is, Halcutt. I’m sorry for the way things have gone. I regret that I didn’t step in sooner.”

  “Is this why Captain June told us he was leaving last night?” asks Jackson.

  “Correct June is leaving also,” says Eyeshot.

  “We killed Babda. And Rich,” Gunner emphasises.

  “I understand—you did.” Eyeshot raises her hand in acknowledgement. “We’re not dealing with the BA anymore, Halcutt. You heard how Maeven described it, correct? A User removed a city and he had no bombs, no missiles. He did it with his bare hands, this fact is plausible. Imagine what he could do to a thousand unwilled assignees, then. Imagine what katok could do to a field of wheat.”

  “Fuck does that mean?”

  They hear Forrest whisper something with a look of registered horror, “A steamroller.”

  At that, Gunner doesn’t have a response. He spends a few seconds staring at their translator failing for words, before he lets Callum pull him to the tent flap.

  Callum offers Maeven a smile, an all-clear, before he dips outside.

  The remaining Users turn back to Eyeshot.

  “You will have to wait for tomorrow for more information,” Eyeshot tells them. Now that the group has been filtered, her demeanour seems more nonchalant. “I have Users from the SOC and Enterprise handling the investigation but they won’t be doing the ground work—”

  “Hold your horses a sec, Captain! I’m confused. Are we booted or are we not booted?”

  It’s Hara from Sand Company who voices the question on their behalf. Most of the Users here must already be presuming its answer—though, they silence in tandem for the official confirmation.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Check your pads, you’re not booted,” Eyeshot says. “You guys are with me.”

  28.2 Interpretations

  Maeven struggles to tune into the commotion that erupts after the end of the meeting. Users step past her to gather at the centre of the briefing room and discuss with overlapping voices about what they’d just heard. Eyeshot excuses herself, busy with the next thing.

  She’s not sure which detail to mull over first. The zombified citizens, the campaign takeover, their pads.

  That’s right. Eyeshot told us to check our pads.

  She calls her device. Pixels configure to a tablet-sized screen.

  “I don’t get it, why didn’t she tell us to leave like Gunner and Callum?” she hears Forrest say.

  “She needs our help,” Win states.

  “Uh, our help? My help?”

  There was a document sent to Maeven’s inbox from the Commission four hours ago. A contract for temporary employment. “Campaign Nester,” she spots somewhere in small black serif, “To Maeven Riel”. She begins to scroll the length of the document. Like most Academy kids she reads quick, her Optimisation kicks in automatically to aid in rapid comprehension. Four weeks. Full equipment provided. Five-hundred-and-fifty-thousand monies.

  “Wow,” she utters under the commotion, eyebrows raised. She’d never seen that much money in her life.

  “Who’s this User that’s apparently terrorising Mortareste now? Are they related to the zombies?” says Jackson.

  “You’re right maybe they made the virus,” says Doom.

  “Why start the virus?” says Ina. “What does a tiny country like Mortareste have to do with anything?”

  “Experimentation?”

  “Punishment for being political buddies with the UL!” speculates Hara, Resonance fizzing with the energy of at least twenty dodges.

  “What I’m wondering is why did Eyeshot ask Adi and Patrick to leave? Don’t we need them? They’re Users too,” asks Rain, the healer from Sand. Her voice naturally juxtaposes, it’s tone soft and concerned. She’s the first to bring up the topic of the assignees to the main discussion.

  That’s when Forrest jumps in. “I was wondering the same thing,” he adds. “Why make them leave and not me for example? I’m not a User.”

  The statement makes Maeven glance up and step her way into the gathering. She’d just made it to the end of the contract, where there’s an oath of service and blank lines for name, signature and date.

  “Probably because you’re a good translator,” Ina says. “Adi and Patrick were useless, trust me.”

  Way to speak about her own subordinates.

  “But if they were useless what am I?” says Forrest. “I can’t fight.”

  Rain tells him sternly, “Forrest dear you are not useless.”

  “Happy to have you around, Forrest,” says Victor.

  The boy, everyone’s soft-spot, doesn’t seem at all confident in being a part of their apparent SOC unit. Having Callum and Gunner withdraw, Maeven can understand the decision even if it is a shame to see them leave, because it’s much worse to see them get killed when it was preventable. That’s what it comes down to. Eyeshot’s decision was correct.

  But what made her let Win and Forrest stay?

  Something Maeven was made certain of after their trip to Sarafiyah was Eyeshot’s extremely Optimised hearing. She picked up on a Humvee engine when it was hundreds of metres away, she wouldn’t be surprised if the User listened in on some conversations too.

  She might have found out that way that Win and Forrest have Will. And that counts for something, even if at best they’re inexperienced Users. On top of that, Forrest’s lone ability to connect with the citizens, the moral he brings with him everywhere he goes. He doesn’t seem to realise it yet but he’s already proved himself an asset. Did he forget he was the one that killed Rich?

  The idea that Win and Forrest tag along isn’t so reckless, Maeven thinks. They should have enough baseline Will to protect themselves after factoring the help of Victor’s Synergy. At worst, they’d just have to be the teammates they look out for the most if things turn bad.

  “What’s your title on the contract?” Maeven asks Forrest. One of his furred ears turn to her direction.

  “Huh?” he says.

  She points to his pants pocket. “Your pad.”

  He calls it.

  Mentioning the contract has the rest of the assignees swiping their fingers and looking for the document. It’s only Eliza and Henri from Sky Company who were already reading it when Maeven was.

  “Page three. Mine says Campaign Operative,” Maeven says.

  “Same,” says Eliza. Victor and Henri confirm it too.

  “Linguist,” answers Forrest, eyes scanning the text on his screen. “Role is language support…” he reads aloud. Maeven asks for a quick read. Within the paragraph of his job description, his expectations in regard to combat has been made explicit.

  “You’re not fighting,” she summarises for him. “You might get a rifle but it’s only to defend yourself.”

  “Mine says Medic, Forrest. You and I are the same,” says Rain.

  Maeven looks at the red-haired Sky leader, wanting to confirm something. “Victor, can you lend Forrest your Synergy?” she asks. “Win as well.”

  “For sure,” says Victor.

  “How long can you keep it on for?”

  “Oh, long time. No worries,” he says. “I could keep it on non-stop until the end of the campaign, it’s easy.” He turns to their linguist. “Does that help, Forrest?”

  Forrest withdraws his pad with the swipe of his finger. The screen breaks up into pixels, flying back into the metal case in his pocket. He doesn’t look confident.

  The question Maeven opened when they were filling brick pathways in Jurn still hasn’t been settled. Forrest hasn’t come back to her saying whether or not he wants to try to become a User.

  She hates the idea of him going back to the Empire, the question forever unanswered.

  “You don’t have to sign it if you don’t want to,” says Maeven, thinking, please sign it.

  “Are you going to sign it?” Forrest asks her.

  “Yes,” she says.

  Forrest looks at Win. “Are you going to sign it?”

  The Creationist just flips his screen in response, showing the blank line filled in with the flourish of his initials in a single undulating line.

  Forrest trails, “I guess…” and doesn’t say anything else.

  “You know what? Let’s sit down and go through the contract together, how about?” Victor suggests. “If you’re all comfortable with it we can discuss the content. Then let’s have a chat with Eyeshot later if we have any questions.”

  As the leader bends down to take his seat on the dirt, others following, he pauses and flicks a look at Miura.

  “Unless you’ve signed it already,” he disclaims.

  28.3 Farewell

  “I was at first but—I was thinking about the BA mission. Man we were barely hanging on when things turned to shit. Remember Rich’s ship? Fuckin’—Callum almost drowned,” says Gunner.

  Callum bursts out laughing. Admirable, how he manages to find humour even in his own mortality.

  The assignees are gathered outside of Surabad with their bags over their shoulders. The sun is high over their heads, and the Reserve buses are lined down the road. It wasn’t long after their 0800 meeting when Eyeshot assembled the rest of the assignees and announced that the VR has officially withdrawn from Mortareste. They were ordered to begin their long journey back to the UL before the morning was over. So the volunteers packed up. They disassembled the tents and loaded them into the storage trailers.

  Maeven thought there’d be a little more friction in response to the announcement. Although she sensed an initial shock, and a frustration for having to move all the equipment they had just brought out yesterday, the resistance wasn’t overwhelming. She considered it for a bit, realised that no longer worrying about when you can take your next shower, or what your breakfast is made out of, or the ideal placement of your jacket zipper, or how you were thousands of miles away from home; all the while being promised a free return ticket and full payment for a whopping three quarters of the work? It’s probably a development a little more welcomed than protested.

  Hell, Gunner seemed to have figured it out all on his own.

  “Guess this stuff’s way past our pay grade. It’s really your guy’s job to deal with this User stuff, ey Mae?” Gunner slaps Maeven on the shoulder.

  A “Sorry,” slips from her mouth. She still feels bad for him and Callum. If it were her being excluded from the SOC unit and forced to go back to Rosvale, she’d be distraught. The thought of never seeing this campaign to its end, to suddenly have to figure out what to do with her life again; it would torture her for weeks.

  “Sorry? Y’all’ve got to clean this mess up,” says Gunner.

  A couple hours ago Maeven and the rest of the SOC unit finished reviewing their employment contracts. It was relatively straightforward. No vague obligations, fishy non-disclosures. Stendahl, with his military experience, described it as, “Pretty standard stuff.” They had only gone to Eyeshot with a few questions for clarification. Then—along with the uncertain Forrest—they all signed.

  “What the fuck did you say?”

  Maeven looks over. Gunner has turned to some assignee behind him, hand clutching the bag strap over his shoulder. The stranger must have snarked at them or something. She didn’t catch what he had said.

  “Superheroes get to stay. Yeah ‘course they get the fun stuff while we were stuck with the Morties doing the most menial shit ever. What was the point of all this?” says the lanky volunteer wearing a VR black undershirt with jeans.

  Right. Although most of the assignees were relieved by the news of the VR’s withdrawal, it’s brought to light the minority group that absolutely resent it. Seeing them with their belongings strapped to their backs, she’s been noticing tactical knives, bullet-proof vests, all evidence of military-grade gear not issued by The Reserve, that they brought from home on their own initiative. The idea that some of these non-Users sincerely came in for a mean fight may have been lost to her before. It’s clear now. There are people here loathing the fact that they’ve missed out on the war.

  Must not have helped when the news of the SOC unit started making its rounds because it only twists the narrative in their favour; by making it look like the Users have come in and hijacked their campaign.

  “You buy this absolute turd?” Gunner says to her.

  Maeven says, “It’s just his opinion.”

  He sighs at her response, or lack thereof, and faces the volunteer to berate him for his own satisfaction, she supposes. “So you’re tellin’ me…”

  “Sure y’all don’t need cannon fodder?” Callum comments quietly, a hand by his mouth with his thumb pointing at the instigator.

  Some of the Users bow their heads to grin.

  “What are you going to do when you get back to the UL?” Maeven asks him.

  “Fishing tourney,” Callum says simply. “Alaska.”

  “OK.”

  Then he tells her, “Did well, kid.”

  She glances away not expecting the complement. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Got the gear already?” Victor chimes, opening the cap of a plastic bottle to take a swig of water.

  “That’s what this was for. So I can pay for it,” says Callum.

  Another strange reaction regarding the SOC Users has simply been appreciation. Half an hour ago Holly the cafeteria girl gave her a hug, thanked her for her help at the kitchen; then from Mrs Briggich, a knuckle twist to the crown of her head. She even received an enigmatic nod from Captain John Leichman when they happened to catch eyes. The man was leaving on his helicopter, maybe to sort out assignees 1 to 500. It was somewhat intimidating.

  Random volunteers, whom she didn’t learn the names of, have been shaking her hand and wishing her and the rest of the Users good luck. It was hard to accept their gestures as if believing she truly deserved it.

  “Shit. Where’s Adi and Patrick?” says Ina who’s standing beside Rain.

  “Yeah I haven’t said goodbye yet,” says Victor, looking around.

  “Goodbye?” says Ina, “Suckers ‘ave been gutted from the SOC commission and I haven’t rubbed it in their faces yet.”

  “Ina I don’t think that is anyone’s priority.”

  “It is mine.”

  “They’re on the second bus,” says Maeven, having pinpointed the Resonances.

  Ina runs off giggling.

  Then she gets a look from Victor. A smirk creeps onto his face realising that she just assuaged the machinations of the Sand leader. Maeven doesn’t pay it much mind.

  Adi and Patrick seemed more than happy to leave with an early pay check. During the BA mission they had both been fairly uninterested, unremarkable. Eyeshot might have cut them out to avoid the extra oversight. Or maybe she flat out dislikes them.

  Whatever it was, Maeven doesn’t care to say goodbye either.

  “Well,” says Gunner, hoisting his bag. The buzz-cut assignee finished his work with the opinionated stranger, who she can see just put his back to the Users, cronies patting his shoulders. Gunner opens his arms and the first to step into the embrace is Victor. They hug. Then Gunner goes down the line. “Bye Eliza. Henri, see you bro.” For Doom, the Transformist’s form too big to wrap around, he grants him a half-hug.

  When he gets to Maeven there’s a split-second of uncertainty, but she offers an arm and clasps his back, loose and awkward. Callum goes down the line too.

  “Bye Riel,” Gunner says. “Remember us when you’re the next big hero of the United Lands.”

  “Sure,” says Maeven.

  “Forrest, Win. Take care.”

  “Keep in touch, yeah?” says Callum.

  Forrest wails, tears soaking his cheeks, “Bye Gunner. Bye Callum.”

  “Eat a hamburger,” Win requests.

  There’s no replacement for Gunner’s profane humour, his brash personality. Even if it caused them trouble at times, she senses a gap after his absence. There used to be a place in discussion where his unapologetic assertions would go, opinions that made sense yet lacked conscience. Now, that’s just going to be silence.

  “Ina,” Gunner calls, when the Subjectionist makes it back to them with a grin of satiation lingering on her face.

  “I take back what I said about you,” he says.

  The girl’s expression neutralises, and further falls to mild aggression. “What did you say about me?”

  A whistle sounds.

  It’s time for the former assignees to board the Reserve buses. The mass of volunteers stream to the vehicles at the signal, most of them happy to get out of the sun. Gunner walks off with Callum without answering the Sand leader as they leave with the flowing crowd. He hoists his bag again and gives the group a wave.

  As for the SOC unit, they have another day in Surabad. Maeven and the others have been ordered to stay in the city until one, their Commission-issued equipment arrives, and two, they figure out some sort of plan.

  The Users watch the Reserve buses until their seats are filled and bodies are too small to discern in the distance. It’s incredibly isolating, over five-hundred co-volunteers, voices, uniforms, up and suddenly gone in mere hours. The quiet feels uncanny.

  “What did he say about me?” Ina asks no one in particular, the first to break the silence.

  “He thought you were hot,” explains Win.

  “Were?”

  Win turns around walking back to the city. “Guess he changed his mind.”

  Notes & characters

  Notes:

  Characters mentioned:

  Specialty: Optimist-Weaponist.

  Concept: Super hearing, super sight (including x-ray vision), and indomitable firearm enhancement.

  Visuals: Long silver hair clipped behind her ears. Red eyes. Red-and-white bodysuit with quad gun holsters.

  Specialty: (?)

  Concept: Fire?

  Visuals: Old, short, and never in uniform.

  Specialty: Weaponist-Optimist

  Concept: Vehicle enhancement and size manipulation.

  Visuals: Dark blue suit. Black hair. Narrow rectangular glasses & prominent brow bones.

  Specialty: (?)

  Concept: (?)

  Visuals: Curly orange hair. VR jacket cropped at the belly button.

  Sky Company:

  Victor Stendahl - Leader

  Specialty: Optimist

  Concept: Uses Synergy to enhance the power of others.

  Visuals: Muscular. Red hair. Side-swept fringe.

  Other: Friendly and charismatic.

  Specialty: (?)

  Concept: Combines Will with boxing straps.

  Visuals: Short black hair that stands straight up. Broad-chested. Kind of looks like Ryu from Street Fighter.

  Specialty: Intuitive

  Concept: Radar

  Visuals: Yellow hair in a loose bun. Clear, wraparound glasses.

  Specialty: (?)

  Concept: (?)

  Visuals: Long face. Lean. Medium-brown long hair.

  Other: Maeven filled in for him during the thief syndicate campaign (12.1)

  Specialty: Transformist

  Concept: Enhanced and re-textured physicality.

  Visuals: Broad, compound, somewhat robotic figure with a brick-like exterior.

  Sand Company:

  Ina Kotov - Leader

  Specialty: Subjectionist-Creationist.

  Concept: Summons snakes that subject different effects/ailments/enhancements on herself or her opponent, depending on the snake's species.

  Visuals: Long blond hair tied up in a high ponytail.

  Other: Enjoys rubbing things in people's faces

  Specialty: Optimist

  Concept: The more she dodges, the stronger she gets

  Visuals: Short orange hair and uneven bangs.

  Specialty: Weaponist

  Concept: Heals wounds with her breath.

  Visuals: Blue shoulder-length hair. Busty. Usually smiling at least a bit.

  Specialty: Intuitive

  Concept: Can tell exactly where a person has been in the past 2 days

  Visuals: Auburn hair usually in a ponytail.

  Specialty: Transformist

  Concept: Can morph into any human as long as they're female

  Visuals: Short. Red-brown hair.

  Ocean Company:

  Maeven Riel - Leader

  Specialty: (??)

  Concept: (??)

  Visuals: She's the cover of Arc 1

  Specialty: Creation-Subjection

  Concept: Minionist

  Visuals: Black hair. Sometimes wears a cap. Looks like Fushiguro Megumi from JJK.

  Other: Aloof. Draws a lot.

  Visuals: Slightly curly orange hair. Dog ears, round eyes. Short.

  Other: Empathetic & friendly. A knower of animals and languages, including how to say steamroller in Kazakh

  Visuals: Blond buzz cut with a line carved around the sides.

  Other: Always ready for someone to upset him.

  Visuals: Bulky with a scarred face and a veteran aura.

  Other: Used to be a wrestler. Now in his late thirties he just wants to fish.