True Leadership (i) or ???

Planet: Tarsonis

Year:2533

Place: New Gettysburg Orbital Space Platform [pic here]

-0400-

Agents 259888 stepped out onto the orbital station's shuttle bay with star-stricken eyes and long blond hair.

Her mouth hung open as a seemingly endless amount of people brushed past her and her bag.

'Wow. This place never gets old.' She thought, while a few glanced at the psi-screener attached to her ear, most disregard her as a low-born commoner.

"Miko!" A brown boy yelled while pushing through the crowd. She frowned hearing her name, fraternizing along with the use of names were against ghost rules.

"U-u-um I got here early and found our site. It's only 15 mins away, we can-" The boy stopped. Miko or rather, agent 249888 stared at him with venomous eyes. As a short black-haired Asian boy stepped off the shuttle with disdain in his eyes.

"?" Chimed Shut up and lead. Both your presence is disgraceful and I do not wish to partake it in any longer," said the boy. Or rather, agent 251010.

The brown boy. Agent 25013, nodded in fear, before leading the group down to a heavily guarded military substation. "Agent 25013, 251010, and 259888 requesting-"

"We know," said the guards. Allowing the kids to continue forward.

Each of them scoffed seeing these starry-eyed brats, 'black op kids.' They thought watching the group board an empty hover-train.

"Listen up," said agent 249991. He was the oldest of the group, a 14-year-old light-skinned black boy who previously failed the graduation exam.

His words caused agent 251010 to scoff as the train took off. "You listen. No you all listen up!" Sneered the boy.

"Sas-" Miko yelled, but her words were cut short.

"I don't want to hear anything from you. No, any of you. Our commander is ghost 246002, better known as Caesar Augustus," stated 251010. Everyone could see the worry on his face.

Agent 249991 sat down, while 25013 and 259888 stood in shock as the older agent spoke up. "The rumors are true. That briefing wasn't a joke, our commander will kill us if we jeopardize the mission. I met a few agents who served under him. And even the experienced ones were scared! Get it? That guy's abnormal. By even our standards."

Nodding in agreement, agent251010's eyes fell on Miko (259888). "Don't talk about the rules, don't talk about the procedure, don't be a pain. Just nod, get it?"

"What about-"

"I'm not worried about the fool. I'm worried you'll say something that'll get us killed," stated agent251010.

Agent's 259888 eyes fell on the others. While agent 249991 said and did nothing, agent 25013 looked away. His silence spoke volumes.

"Get it-"

Sasuke stopped. His eyes fell on Caesar's daunting figure decloaking behind Miko. To Caesar's right was Bryce. His eyes were like a lifeless puppet.

"S-s-sir," mumbled Sasuke, staggering backward.

Caesar scanned the group over as their ride came to stop. "On most missions, that would be my rule of thumb. However, this is not such a mission. And you four do not meet my standards. While the last of this group cannot be trusted. As such communication is paramount, and we have 2 weeks to get it right."

"Any question?" Asked Caesar.

The group's eyes fell on Bryce. Mike spoke up, asking. "W-what's the procedure with him?" While the doors opened.

"The procedure is simple," said Caesar. Continuing as he stepped out the empty train. "If his movements ever look suspicious. Shoot him, then blame me."

"You think he'll betray us then join the rebellion," chimed Sasuke.

Caesar's said nothing, his silence said everything.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!" Yelled agent 25013.

"Were not flying in that thing, right sir?" Agent 251010 asked.

"Oh yes, we are," Caesar sighed, in front of them was a massive 9 kilometer or 5.6-meter long starship.

--Caesar's Pov--

What the fuck!? The underbelly rusting, the starboard, the port side, the bow, even the fucking stern!? THE STERN.

Ok, let's settle down. Everything is rusted, meaning the crew's probably incompetent, doesn't care, or a temp squad. Hopefully, a temp squad. Because something tells me, this is the ship Popovich is going to give me.

Fitting really, the man who grew up around junk gets to command junk.

"Sir?" Agent 259888 said.

Oh yeah, these guys. "Go select your rooms. I assume you know the basic layout of a cruiser. I'll see you in the gym at 0600 for a skill assessment."

"My name-"

"If you live, I'll learn your names. Until then, your just numbers. We're all just numbers." Was that harsh? Probably...most likely. Naw it is. But I got more important things to do, like for starters. Find the ship's chief engineer and scientist.

So I can get a visual of what I'm working with.

*Sigh.* Two weeks no longer feels like a lot of-- "Oh god."

--End of Pov--

Sighed Caesar, stepping into the ship's armory.

'I didn't expect tanks, marine power armor, jets, the latest guns, nothing of note really. But they gave me less than that...more junk. This whole room is filled with last-gen military junk.' thought Caesar.

His eyes fell on a massive round ass crack with two heavy-duty mechanical legs, head first in a pile of rubble.

"Your ass is showing," said Caesar. He grinned staring between his ass crack and a leaking battery.

"Don't even think of it!" grumbled the wrinkly old ass crack. It jiggled causing Caesar to smirk.

'I am so sending this to Victoria,' he thought. As the ass crack jiggled up and down. Caesar asked, "What are you building? And is the disorganized junk normal?"

"Your weapons, duh! Not like you can do. And no shit it's normal! General Popovich wants this here, piece of shit, ship to serve as our junkyard." Scoffed the old ass crack.

'Funny, really funny,' Caesar thought before saying, "you know what, build my weapon. But if it's shit I'm rebuilding." 'Of course, I'm rebuilding it anyway. Cause there's no way in hell, I'd let some guy tinker with my gear.'

"You ain't shit! Young buck." The old man yelled, "you know what! Build your own weapon. I'd love to see yeah fail."

'Huh! This old fuck has spirit.' "Hey! Old fuck. What's your name?" asked Caesar. Thinking, 'wait for it…' while stepping away from the pile of junk.

"Suck a dick! That's what. There's no sense giving my name to a deadman."

His words caused Caesar to grin while turning the corner to head down the stairway.

'Oh, we'll see in a month. Just you wait! I'm definitely making sure you stay on this ship full-time. Just you wait.

Now let's head down to the science lab. Although, from what I can see the old fuck definitely knows his parts.'

Although outdated, he was surprised to see a neat and fully functioning lab.

"H-Hi commander! I didn't think I'd meet you so soon. Might I say, you're looking dashing today? And may I ask, what brings you down here?" Said a short, brown-haired girl with golden highlights.

Her eye twitched when Caesar disregarded her before scanning the room once more. His eyes fell on 20 miniature metallic cubes.

"Ah, I see you've spotted the cameras. Do they meet your standards, sir? I've been told they can be quite high."

"You were told right," Caesar responded. Stepping forward to evaluate the devices. "This alloy is custom-built. Did you fabricate it yourself? Or did get help from the old fuck? " Asked Caesar.

The girl smirked at the chief engineer's nickname. "It was me, sir." She said, to her surprise, Caesar cracked a smile before opening up a camera.

"Your metallurgy is impressive. I'm surprised you're not in C.O.M.A, working with a research team."

"I was sir. A noble stole my work then had me banned while sighting me as incompetent." The woman whimpered, Caesar nodded his head as if expecting that.

"I see why. Although your metallurgy is beyond outstanding, everything else is below average at best."

Caesar said, pausing to meet the woman's gaze.

"Send me a formulaic breakdown of some of your work. It's...quite phenomenal.

As for the cameras. Their dimensions are all wrong and there are a few features I'd like to add. So I'll be refabricating them."

'Did he just say my work was phenomenal?' "My work is phenomenal!? My work is phenomenal! Thank you, sir! It's a pleasure to serve."

--

#Picture of junk ship here.# [In the description it's 900meter ]

#An: For those who forgot. Like the UNCS, The Confederacy fabricates everything with 3d printers.#