The Terrible Tactician [VERY MATURE] [Open]

[Aadibah]

Rick's Cafe Americain

No handouts!

"Nice place." Was the only comment Aadibah made as her boots continued to crunch against the gravel "street". Her head turned back forward as she marched past the establishment, past the front deck with a few occupied tables and chairs. The seats comprised of even more people who were suddenly motionless, save for tracking eyes. Everywhere Aadibah walked, people slowed down, stared, tilting their heads to their friends and lips making small movements.

Everyone keeps mouthing that word. "Prime". Actually, Connor said that too, same as John. Didn't it mean newcomers? Then why am I getting looks?

Or maybe it's just that I'm a new face. That and I have a rifle. And it's obvious I'm some sort of soldier. Maybe they think I'm part of this "empire" that Connor mentioned.

The stares were neutral, no grimaces or smiles on any one person as the engineer threaded herself through the crowds. Her own gaze remained even, forward and unwavering.

"Prime!" At the first shout, Aadibah's continued her walk, a second demand accompanied by a loud cuss eliciting her to cease and turn halfway around. The corner of her eye peered behind at the source of the voice, lids wide. A squad of four men, half adorned in some sort of white armor with a texture akin to plastic and half garbed in dirty clothes. All wore strange, fully-encasing helmets of the same material with the armor, black eyes piercing into her own.

The soldier deliberately turned her whole body about to face them, both hands grasping each other at the back of the hip. "Me?" Her tone was even, hesitant.

"You need to come with us, ma'am. And not try any shit while you're at it." The one at the head of the group spoke again, their voice somewhat muffled by a microphone that shout their order down the street. The whole squad had unusual black rifles in their hands, casually cradling them at the stomach.

Are those modified SMGs?

"Alright." The engineer raised her voice to reply, "I'm coming ov-"

"Drop your weapon first lady!"

"Okay. I'm dropping my wea-"

"And your pack!"

"-and my pa-"

"And your scarf, your helmet, and your boots!"

"....all of that t-"

"Now bitch! Quit talking and do it!"

Aadibah was silent as she began to strip herself, first flicking on the safety of her rifle, then popping out the magazine and emptying the chamber with a snap of the bolt. The weapon and clip clattered as it was dropped in the dirt, before one of the villagers emerged from the crowd and snatched up both. She scurried over to the squad, handing over the AK-47 to the rear-most member. About three minutes later Aadibah was down to just the clothes on her back and bare feet, everything she owned now in the hands of people pointing guns at her.

Not an all too unfamiliar situation. Just need everyone shouting they're going to cut off your head and film it.

The squad began to move forward, three front three pointing black barrels straight at the outsider. The lead man reached around to a waist pack, unveiling a pair of handcuffs. "Alright, now you're going to come peacefully and not cause us any trouble."

* * *

"Well technically I didn't cause you any trouble."

The screaming could still barely made it through the solid steel door, into a room with a false mirror, a table, and two chairs. Both were occupied, the one closest to the door by a tall and burly man with a solid jaw and a look reminiscent of an angry bear. Across from him was the cuffed outsider.

"No. Technically you did." The man leaned forward, keeping his eyes level with the woman he'd dragged in only ten minutes ago, "We're probably just going to splint the leg for him, since we don't really give a damn about anyone we have in the hold. But now we have to put up with his whimpering and complaining and crying."

"Sorry to hear that."

"How about I put you in his cell? Along with his buddies?"

"Then you'll have three screaming prisoners?"

"Two on one fight never really works out for most people."

"What in the hell makes you think I'm most people?"

The bellowing laughter was only amplified by the steel walls, the large man rocking back into his seat, fat and wide and calloused palm smacking against the top of the table.

"You know how many times I've fucking heard cocky-ass primes spew that bullshit off!" A thick finger wiped away tears, "Every single one I've talked to, every single one acts like they're somehow a bigger deal than everyone else."

Aadibah slightly recoiled as his face came up to hers, dark grey eyes and shit-eating grin eliciting a grimace from the woman. "I've seen so many of them get their asses handed back on a silver platter after trying to prove they're the shit, too."

"Then you must be some kind of tough guy, arresting them on the spot, when they're helpless and lost and just looking to make a living."

"Don't throw that at me honey I know you guys can make just about anything out of omnilium."

"Sure buddy. Can I go now?"

The man paused for a moment, his face slacking for half a second before re-affixing the previous expression. "No. In fact, I was gonna let you out with your shoes and pack, send you back to the gate, since we don't need to look after anymore Camelot soldiers."

The soldier's brow raised at that, "Camelot?"

"And don't try to play dumb."

"I'm not." The engineer cocked her head a little to the side, "So there's an empire here, and a "Camelot"?"

The man's eyes narrowed, his grin extending ear-to-ear, "Ooohhhh... So you are a new prime then, eh?"

"Now I'm not playing dumb?"

"Well no one would say something like "sure" about omnilium. Most experienced primes wouldn't have even commented on that."

"Nice observation. So this means I'm not you're enemy right? I can go?"

"Yeah, no. You're gonna be here a little while longer until I'm sure you're not with any of the other, smaller guys we got prowling around in the dunes."

"Smaller guys?"