Taste from the past(Future)

Ranger Citadel

Exterior Area

Temporary Refugee Tent Cluster

Houmin was standing with his hand flicking to the beat to a song he remembered as he stood there watching the refugees. The kids played a tag game where they chase each other with cold water and sprinkle themselves with it.

"Happy with yourself?" Skylar asked from the side, standing there with one of her arms reaching the other from the back. "Soon enough, we'll be worrying about mud cause there's so much water wasted."

"Yeah," Houmin replied with an amused look as he turns his head to her. "Hang on, what the hell, lecturing me with a massive smile on your face? You seem to be enjoying it more since I'm the one who's gonna be in trouble."

Skylar chuckled, "I'm just happy looking at the kids all running around with dirt on their faces. Look, look, a kid is rubbing the can to his face. So cute!"

The conversation turned to a pause. Both enjoyed the cheerful noises coming from the kids as they ran around chasing each other. Seeing the adults' satisfied expression has struck a sense of accomplishment for the two.

"These people's home was destroyed... Their friends & families butchered right in front of them, and some were even violated not too long ago. Makes you wonder where they got the strength to smile like that, so blissful and all," Houmin said in a gentle voice. A deep thought was lingering in his mind as the shitty reality hits him.

Saying that, Skylar looked at him before shaking her head and replied, "My mom used to say that people with all sorts of hardships happen to them can give the warmest smile."

"Heh, dad also says those kinds of things, except he uses the word 'Resilient' too often." Houmin felt glad about remembering his father's lesson to him. A few seconds have passed, and his expression darkened with what Skylar said next, realizing something.

"Living in this apocalypse, experiencing that hell, and now to this." Skylar said with a solemn voice, "I think it's normal for them, heck any of the people in this world, to just have a moment of peace."

"If you think about it," She added, "Our place isn't much different—conflicts, biases, and ignorance. And then we got bombed with a nuke, so that happened.."

It took a moment for Houmin to recognize Skylar's frustration lurking out of her and simply said what any man would to a woman. "I'm sorry."

...Even though he wasn't sure what's the problem this time, but he felt he's partly to blame for this.

Skylar gave him a puzzled look but quickly changed it to a smile as Bear suddenly appeared in her view, walking towards them, holding a RIG in his hand. Sensing that he's gonna be asking them for some help, might as well have this idiot be the guinea pig.

She reached for his hand, raised it up, and quickly scurried away to the triage point. Leaving Houmin hanging with his hand raised up. She gave him a wink this causes Houmin with the impression that she's flirting with him. The thought stuck with him, and he forgot to drop his hands down.

"Ohh. Hey!" Bear said in surprise. He wondered if this kid can actually read minds… Either way, he's volunteering. He slapped a combat rig to the table. "Ain't that great, follow me. I need your help, kiddo."

"Help?" Houmin looked around, not sure about what just happened.

"C'mon! Son." Bear blinked in surprise at the tone he heard. He pointed at the RIG. "Keep up! Sun's moving! Wear that and meet me at the range."

"Range?" Houmin asked again.

Bear shook his head at the inattentiveness of the boy. Almost tipped him to roast the boy to some P.T but considered it for some other day as he's pretty busy orienting the Veterans.

With this new work shove to him unexpectedly, Houmin shakes his head back to attention, reached for the RIG, and walks out of the tent to get a view of the range. There he saw a tent with an overhead digital camouflage net. A crowd is already inside, sitting on anything they can find in it. There they face a table and a whiteboard with technical terms and drawings on it. He saw Bear move into the tent and stand in front of them.

"At least, I got to do something," Houmin said to himself. He patted the velcro properly to fit the RIG to him. After making sure, it's finally comfortable, he strode his way to the firing range.

"Alright, alright, settle down," Bear said in a loud tone to the crowd. He threw a mixed match of gear in the table, be it camouflage, a rifle, a pouch, a grenade, etc. He raised his head and saw Houmin come in just in time. He gestured to Houmin to stand beside him.

"Ah shit. Why's everyone looking at me?" Houmin said to himself. He worked his way in the crowd, reaching the front. Halfway, he realized that the rangers were eerily silent for some reason.

"How can I help?" Houmin asked. Looking around, he noticed all the rangers were eating with their mess kit while looking at them like they're chowing down while watching TV.

"Show and Tell, son." Bear replied as he pointed at a neatly set of gears and a rifle on the table. "We're gonna be figuring out their standard gear."

Houmin immediately did a double-take as he looks at the crowd again. He fondly remembers that Wasteland does not have standardized equipment, or that's what he remembers. He had recognized in the walkthrough he watched is that there is a need to diversify their equipment mainly due to ammo scarcity… However, Now they brought this large amount of guns, gears, bullets, and how to make more bullets… it's maybe the right time to suggest some changes.

As Houmin takes his time organizing the equipment on his person. Bear hanged an olive green utility uniform, top, and pants on one side of the whiteboard and a modern combat shirt and combat pants on the other.

"Army Corps of Engineers, Arizona National Guard. A reservist unit that was thrown out in the middle of nowhere to create civilian infrastructure." Bear spoke fluently as he summarizes the Rangers' history. "The bombs fell, and the rangers chose to help the people. Did I get everything right?"

The rangers agreed in a laid-back manner.

Bear took a step to the side, gesturing to the worn-out, tattered army uniform, "It brings me back to the time where these things were the norm. Where the reservist got the hand-me-down stuff from the big army."

"Pieces of shits, if you ask me." One of the rangers with a scar on her chin called out. They all remember the first time they joined, where they had to wear that patched-up olive green uniform: Uncomfortable, rash-inducing, clown patches, uniform.

"But it is the Ranger's piece of shit, isn't it?" Bear asked. Hinting into the ranger's mentality. He knew the attachment they built over the years with the responsibility of taking care of the uniform.

At first, they mulled over it in silence, but a few seconds later, they looked at each other and joked over it.

"I'm sure that you just realized by now," Bear said as he looked over to everyone's expression. "That without this "Piece of Shit," You wouldn't be called a Desert Ranger."

"But why is that?" He continued. "Anybody figured that out yet?"

One of the rangers on front answered, "It's our uniform."

"Exactly." Bear replied. "The representation is essential--let them know who you are. Let them know you're coming."

"But what I think the most that set you apart from a bunch of trigger happy maniacs," Bear reached on the table a dark gold badge and showed it to everyone. He inspected it closely, the rough and beat shape of it, but the words 'Desert Rangers' will still survive even with the harshest treatment. "Whatever the clothes or armor you're wearing right now, the only thing that can attest that you're a ranger is this thing. Sort of your I.D to the people."

Bear shifts to the other side, pointing at the modern uniform as he peered over to the crowd. "Some of you have already associated this wear with us by now."

"Just for your info," Bear added, "I got the go-ahead from the General about this, but looking at our way, you guys already had something going on. There's this personality showing through with how and what sort of clothes you wear."

Remembering what Viñia said about cultural development through time, Bear takes heed not to impose on the rangers, "We didn't want to force our way with all of you. So I'm here to tell, show, and ask you precisely what you think of standardization."

"My question is, what do you feel when we tell you to look like this?" Bear asked. He queued Houmin to step forward. Instantly, all the eyes from the crowd gaze at Houmin as they studied the things on him.

"It's free shit. Of course, I'm gonna take it." One of the more laidback rangers said with some of his fellows voiced in agreement.

"Unbelievable, Nickel." Another group of rangers takes a dis at the one that just spoke. "It's fucking wide open that they're talking about something else."

The ranger named Nickel answered back as he sat down lazily, "Why not, and it's a good idea, so I think listening in is gonna be good for you. Why not try looking at yourself and ask that maybe, just fucking maybe, that I'm not the idiot one here."

"Enough!" A loud voice cuts in, coming from a more veteran looking than the rest of the veterans.

"I apologize for the display made by my brothers and sisters, Bear." The veteran said with his arms crossed. "For me, I'm pretty glad we can get free equipment and someone telling us how to properly use it... To answer your questions, though, may I ask you a question first?"

Bear gestured for him to continue.

"Thank you." The veteran calmly said. He took a step forward as the rest of the rangers look at him in silence.

"Heck, I'm getting all shaky and nervous with every one of you idiots watching me," All of the rangers gave a chuckle while the veteran psyche himself up. "Okay. Let's start; my question is, Bear, if you don't mind me being upfront, are you giving it to us because you people saw that we require it? Or you people are giving it to us to become the rangers you want us to be?"

That's... Actually, a good question.

That's what Houmin thought. To him, weirdly, a good question can be defined by a 'sting' feeling when confronted with it. His training quickly chimed in as he didn't dare to flinch when he heard that question. He waited for Bear on anything he can, and about to do. Fearing a misunderstanding may come even if he moved with the slightest motion.

On the other hand, Bear is calm and composed, like he's ready for this sort of situation. "And you are?" He asked.

"Ian Callred." The veteran stood up at attention and saluted, "Ranger Ian Callred, Team Yankee. Been proudly serving the Desert Ranger for half my life."

"Hmm… Maybe, Ian." Bear had his hand to his chin, "It's true we're giving away this whole lot as we felt the Desert Rangers is long overdue for an upgrade."

"Maybe... we wanted everyone to become the rangers the way we wanted it." as Bear said that, Ian blocked one of the rangers that reacted to what he said. Fortunately, he quickly followed it up. "The way we wanted everyone to become... the fittest, most competent, fully geared ranger this state has seen in a long time. We've coordinate with the General to expose you to how we did things in the past. Train you, adapt it to this environment, apply it to the best you can."

"We understand that times have absolutely changed." Bear heartfully said. "That's the reason why we asked to join the Desert Rangers, not the other way around. Me, Houmin, and the others are now a part of the Desert Rangers. We're just new guys with crazy skills, experience, and resources."

Rangers kept silent. Everyone has their different opinion and understanding of the notion and objective of what Bear has just said. However, everyone came to one similar conclusion; Bear was right. He's a part of the Desert Rangers, and the Desert Rangers were not a part of his group or the Government itself. It's hard to swallow the details of their circumstances, but that doesn't really change anything. What he's doing right now is an order by the General. What they're doing right now is outright doubting their new ranger brother's intention and authenticity.

Realizing this, Ian scratched his nose in embarrassment, "Oh heck, Ranger. Just making sure that's all. How about you continue on what you were showing us. We'll give you what we think? How about that?"

Bear laughed in a hearty tone. He didn't mind it that much and reached out for a helmet and ear protection set and gave it to Houmin. Prompting him that they are about to start.

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Ranger Citadel

Exterior Area

Command Tent

Tables are lined up with various maps, laptops, and other paraphernalia with the Ranger's administrative staff's bustling activity inside the command tent. They both take in the administration lesson from the Division Agents while also performing those lessons on hand.

On one side of the table, General Vargas and Captain Ethil discussed the refugee's new 'home.' "Feels like it came out from a science fiction movie, General."

"Well, it got Air Conditioning," Vargas said after a moment.

"That's not giving it justice about what it is, Sir." Mercaptain politely argued, "They got everything to kickstart practically anything, Sir."

"I'm hearing a 'but' here, Ethil," Vargas replied with an annoyed tone. "This is a chance for us, Ranger. The best chance we can ever get. General Surgrue confirmed it himself regarding this secret government project."

"Correction." Ethil nitpicked on what Vargas said. "It's a government project now, sir."

"Stop that," Vargas smiled, unamused. "Don't use words against me."

"If I may, Sir. Are you planning to have the retrenched & retiring rangers to staff the place?" Ethil asked. She gave him back a list of names, "Were they okay with it? Did you even consulted them about it?"

"The SAGA-DAEDALUS people were open with--" General Vargas paused as he realized that Ethil was referring to a different party. "Ahem, It's better this way than letting them go and hoping for the best."

"So you haven't," Ethil said. She gives him a nod as she took every piece of information.

"But…" Ethil finally said, "Are we even sure they're here to help. They're lost to time, Sir. I get it. Everything they have seems like a miracle to us--But what if they started changing their mind?"

"What DO we do?" Ethil emphasized.

"I don't know," Vargas answered truthfully. He raises his voice. "Fuck it! Be it God's Grace or the Devil's Trap. Fuck it!"

The administrative staff nearby paused for a few seconds before returning to their work, pretending to ignore their argument.

General Vargas took a deep breath as he composes himself, "We'll think about that when they started doing anything questionable. The work we need to do is getting their place working. Helping them is equal to helping ourselves."

"...Affirmative, Sir." Ethil didn't voice out anymore. "Permission to drag Hawco in regards to the transfer of the retiring & retrenched staff?"

"Granted." Vargas replied immediately, "Any more?"

"Time table for transfer?" Ethil answered.

"Within the next week."

Captain Ethil wrote the task in her notepad, gave the general a nod, and walked away. The standard procedure indicated a salute for pre-conversation and post-conversation to a high-ranking officer, mainly if you talked to the Commander-in-Chief in this military hierarchy. However, when it comes to Ethil Mercaptain, Vargas doesn't mind her attitude that much. Thoroughly understands the pros and cons she brings to the group. Then again... most, if not all, in the Desert Rangers have some sort of loose screws in them.

"Hoo… is this what the old man feels like when we're a pain in the ass?" Vargas was reminiscent of the past. He directed his eyes back to the table, intently looking at the image in the MRT.

"Somebody get me Woodson on the radio!" Vargas shouted to everyone. His eyes glint with excitement, "This time, we're gonna get the fucking jump on these wild dogs."

♫ Bobby McFerrin - Don't Worry Be Happy ♫