Pregmod - SF Mod - 'Shell-Shocked' Firebase Tours

Shell-Shocked:

The amenities are staffed by menial slaves, captured by the soldiers on their excursions. They are wearing plain jumpsuits and slim identification collars to set them apart from the soldiers, and look wary, much like the soldiers they serve. The soldiers themselves socialize at the bars or eat in small groups around tables. Most notably, they all do so very quietly, and in a very orderly fashion. Sexual entertainments are enjoyed strictly inside the pleasure dens, and laughter from the relaxing soldiers can be heard at some times, but it is subdued. Everyone seems to be very keen not to do anything that might upset or 'trigger' The Colonel.

In the middle of the common area is a pile of heavy metal crates with a pavilion on top - The Colonel's personal throne and open quarters, the result of her preferring to live a less-isolated lifestyle amongst her soldiers rather than in her empty, indefensible quarters on the upper levels. It's draped with the 'flag' of <Special Force>, one of her inventions, but the structure itself is covered with huge coils of barbed wire. Tucked away under her huge kevlar-lined couch seems to be an immense quanitity of; ground motion sensors, anti-personnel mines, loaded firearms, first aid kits, booby-trapped ammunition boxes full of hard drugs or cash, and a huge old rucksack (which, knowing her, you presume must be her "Bug-Out" Bag). This broad is paranoid; her throne is a fortress, and she is ready or fight or flee at a moment's notice.

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As you approach, The Colonel is nowhere to found (which is odd, because you know you saw her when you first entered).  When you turn around to leave, you nearly bump into her, kitted in full battledress while reviewing the particulars of her units on a battered-looking tablet. She raises a hand in greeting. "Hi boss," she says, noticing your startled expression. She laughs. "Saw you come in. I try not to stay in any one place for too long. Been attacked too many times." She throws a thumb at the plaza around her. "You're down here for a reason, though. What do you need?"

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As you approach, you notice that the 'The Colonel' you saw sitting in the couch is actually just a handmade decoy. Looking around, you spot the real Colonel near the edge of the common area, doing personal inspections on the troops that will be deploying later today, and screaming viciously at those found wanting.  As usual, she is fully kitted and dressed (you are still not sure if she ever takes that stuff off). She's holding a near-empty bottle of strong liquor in her hand and you can see the soldiers in the background not due for deployment trying to get their drinks or slaves quietly before escaping the vicinity. Noticing you coming, she lets out a long sigh before finally releasing the troops to make their corrections and scamper off, and raises a hand in greeting.

The Colonel finishes off her bottle, letting it slip out of her hands and roll away, before slumping into a nearby chair and leaning back. You look at her briefly, falling into your habits of inspection. She is inebriated. A monkey could deduce that much. But despite that she is still surprisingly lucid, with eyes holding equal parts rage and guilt. Beads of moisture, the result of her excitation, are visible on her skin, and you can tell from long experience that she is very volatile right now, but also vulnerable. You return your gaze to her face to find her simply looking at the battered tablet she just pulled out of her tactical vest. "Bad dreams again, boss. Had to shake it off somehow." She waves her hand at the plaza around her, "As they'll tell you, my methods aren't always the best. But you're not here for me... I hope. You're here to talk business, so what's up?"

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As you approach, The Colonel is in no condition initially to greet you. That's because she's fast asleep, sprawled entirely on her couch and snooring. She's fully dressed in full fatigues and body armour, down to her fully-laced boots.The uniform obscures her muscled, taut body while clutching a loaded assault rifle closely to her body. She is face down in her deep sleep in the middle of a wide variety of armed anti-personnel mines and assorted pistols. Perhaps sensing your approach, her body suddenly shoots up, weapon at the ready, as she looks at you with unfocused, bloodshot eyes. She comes just short of aiming her weapon directly at you. "Sorry, boss," she slurs, wiping her face and weakly holding up a hand. "Didn't know who you were for a second. Long fucking night." She proceeds to disarm her mines and clears a space for you to join her on the couch. "Ahhh, fuck. Haven't slept in days." she says, breathing slowly.

She injects a stimulant she pulled out of a slot on her armour and shakes her head powerfully, now looking at you, her eyes once again alert and piercing. "That's better," she says, leaning back on the couch and giving you another good view of her uniform. "So, boss," she begins, "what brings you down here to our little foxhole? I trust you're happy with how we've been handling things out there?" You nod. "Excellent", she smile. "I have to say; it's nice to have a place like this while having some top-end gear. We're actually able to do missions out there without worrying about somebody coming back on us for it. That still feels strange to me. Shit, we might actually make it this time." She laughs bitterly. "So - I'm assuming you want something?"