Side-Chapter 1: Origins of Squad Six

Link to last chapter

Side-Chapter 1: Origins of Squad Six​

- You are hereby promoted to the rank of Colonel. Congratulations, Officer Wolfe.

Applause filled the room. It had been a short ceremony; Garrett Wolfe had been the only man nominated for a promotion that day. And, truth be told, the man hated pomp and circumstance even more than Ford himself; the less fanfare surrounding the event, the better.

Lieutenant Graham Ford didn’t clap along with everyone else. Empty cheers and well wishes failed to demonstrate the significance of the occasion: Wolfe was now the third highest-ranked official in the East Division, through his own merit – after going through hell mission after mission. Those congratulating him the loudest would never achieve half of what Wolfe had in their entire careers, despite outranking him on the army ladder.

Hypocrites, all of them.

The Colonel stood motionless like a statue while they pinned the medal to his uniform, not once cracking a smile. Garrett Wolfe could turn into stone like that, something Graham was never good at. Was he in Wolfe’s place, he’d have been rolling his eyes and staring impatiently at his watch during the whole thing. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t offered the promotion to begin with: neither he nor Garrett could stand backstage politics, but the latter had always been better at faking interest.

Only when the crowd began to disperse (and by crowd, he meant the ten or so upper brass officers that had been invited to the ceremony) did Graham approach his friend – his “best” one, some said – and extend a hand. Garrett turned human again, storing away his stone effigy for future events, and pulled Graham into an embrace.

- Loosen up on Ford. It’s a manly hug.

- Heh. Congrats, Wolfe.

- Should’ve been you…

- We talked about this. One of us has to be in charge, and I hate the paperwork. Besides… “Colonel Graham Ford”? Hah. The big dogs would rather get shot than having to string those three words together.

The newly-appointed Colonel and his Lieutenant left the room. Garrett Wolfe’s need for a stiff drink was evident enough that he didn’t even need to say it; Graham offered to buy and wouldn’t take no for an answer, even if he himself had stopped drinking several years prior.

It was almost midnight when they finally sat down at one of the cafeteria’s old tables. They’d been around long enough that curfew didn’t exactly apply to them, and Garrett always made the most of it whenever he needed to get his mind off matters. On that night, he needed to wash away all the bureaucratic pleasantries he’d been forced to swallow.

- Bunch of pompous pricks. Ah, screw them. Ford, can we get things moving now?

- We should be able to. Everyone on our list is beneath your rank; if you request a squad reform, none of them will be able to contest.

Colonel Wolfe took another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. Graham could tell he still had reservations about the plan.

- And would they? Contest the order, I mean. These guys are integrated in their own teams Ford. To rip them away and form a new one from the ground up… I’d rather they came of their own free will.

Graham placed a piece of paper in front of his superior officer.

- There’s not a single name on that list who hasn’t heard of you. And I know all of them personally; they’ll come willingly, believe me. But many of these kids are in no position to ask – so do it for them. I guarantee you this squad will be unmatched. If we pull this off, we can build something greater than our old Blitz Unit.

At the mention of the name, Garrett swallowed the rest of his vodka in a single go and slammed the glass down in obvious irritation.

- Those kids are trouble. The runts calling themselves Blitz Unit these days… nobody’ll listen to me, of course; you and I made that Unit untouchable. But that was over twenty years ago! Have you seen those soldiers, Ford? Not an ounce of discipline in ‘em. Matter of time before they screw up big time, I’m telling you.

- Relax, will you? They’re not all bad. That kid Nathan Hawke’s one of the best guys the Division’s had in ages. Not everything has to be a catastrophic mess, you know?

- Hawke’s not the issue. I know you don’t care about stuff that doesn’t concern you directly, but as of today that’s a luxury I can no longer afford. Everything is my goddamn business all of a sudden. Keh, “Colonel Garrett Wolfe”… What was I thinking when I let you talk me into this?!

- It’ll be fine. You can worry about disciplining that poort excuse of a Blitz Unit later. Right now, assembling this Squad is our top priority, now that you’re in a position to make it happen. Hey, listen…

Graham retrieved a Pokeball from inside his overcoat. Twirling it in his fingers, he threw Garrett a knowing grin.

- When was the last time we fought? I’d like to see how a mere Lieutenant measures up to a Colonel. Ruger’s been itching for action.

Garrett’s smile returned to him, as Graham knew it would. It was hard for his friend to let go of issues sometimes; he was too obstinate for his own good. What he needed was to get his mind off matters for a while. If Graham could do nothing else for the freshly-promoted Colonel, he could still remind him of what fun was like.

- You mean to say Ruger’s itching for a beating. Well… Wesson will be more than glad to provide one.

The two men left the cafeteria and headed out into the cold of the night, accompanied by their respective Pokemon, flames and sparks flowing behind them as they went. They were about to make a lot of noise, way past curfew… but then again, who was in a position to stop them?

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- “Hanson Reed”… Seriously? The lumbering buffoon from the Demolition squad?

Colonel Garrett Wolfe sat at his new desk, in his new office, with his new uniform but the same old frown. Graham sat on the opposite side of the shiny mahogany table, looking around the new room with a smirk on his face, while Garrett went over the list of candidates to form the new Squad his friend had envisioned.

Fancy stuff. Bet he hates it.

Luxury annoyed Garrett as much as it did Graham. But while the Lieutenant remained in his usual quarters, the new Colonel had been relocated to a new office built almost from the ground up. Were he in Garrett’s shoes, Graham would have protested immediately at the futility that was spending all this money in redecorations, but Colonel Wolfe was a company man and usually kept his frustrations to himself.

The room was a spacious, well-lit division on the fifth floor of the main HQ building. Large portraits of previous Colonels and Brigadier Generals lined the walls, most of which Graham and Garrett had met in the past, most of them when they were still privates. Graham didn’t hold particularly fond memories of many of them, but such was life – people usually became considerably more important, and less of a pain in the ass, posthumously.

Nobody remembers them for who they really were. Only the military feats they accomplished.

A glass case on the nearby wall displayed many of Garrett’s awards, medals and other honors. On the table directly beneath it, another display case housed two of his favorite guns: a Smith & Wesson, and an old Glock. If there was anything about Garrett Wolfe that matched his patriotism, it was his skill with firearms.

- Ford, he’s just a kid, and not a bright one at that. Can’t do it, sorry.

- “Werebear” is still rough around the edges, sure, and he’s green. But have you seen the kid in action? He’s a force of nature.

- Could be an actual grizzly for all I care. Not about to put someone that young in a squad like this. Here, these are my picks. If you’re on board, I’ll start recruiting… somehow.

Graham looked over the list. Garrett had underlined the names he’d liked with a black pen, perfectly horizontal lines without a trace of hesitation, and not a spot of ink elsewhere. Stubborn as he may be, the Colonel was a perfectionist and a man of convictions; Graham could tell he didn’t flinch in any of the picks.

- Ben Allister and Jackson Brody, from Demolition. Brody is Reed’s superior officer… Kid’ll struggle for a while.

- If he’s as much of a force of nature as you tried to sell him for, he’ll cope. Brody’s a beast, and he’d been around for years. If you think he’s reliable, I want him.

- Van Dillan, Frank Vicker and Sid Gapper, Espionage. Sneaky SOBs, all of ‘em, but they’re the best in the Division. Doubt you’ll be able to bargain for all three, but give it a shot. If upper brass gets finicky, at least grab Van Dillan.

Garrett muttered something under his breath, got up from his desk and headed over to the window.

- Only difference between those guys and everyone else around here’s that it’s their job to be deceiving. I’ll get them, don’t worry. It’s the Assault unit I’m concerned with.

”And with good reason”, thought Graham. The golden boys of the army, soldiers wielding the big guns for the big missions. They went in and cleaned house, no subtlety and no questions asked. “Heroes of Heiml”, they liked to be called; truth be told, they’d been responsible for some of the Division’s greatest successes.

- Rodney Stout, Leo Bergman, Mitch Manning. “Battlefield gods”, they’re called. I don’t expect you to have much luck here, but if you could nab even one, it’d make Squad Six a force to be reckoned with.

- A squad doesn’t live off of a single assault soldier. If you’re adamant about these names being the best, I’ll try to pull some strings, put this damn Colonel rank to use. But…

- I know. Just do your best. And finally Support… James O’Hara and Eli Crowe. O’Hara is a good kid, heart in the right place, and I’ve never seen him shy away from a bullet storm to reach an injured ally. Crowe, they say he’s a genius, has pulled off the most miraculous recoveries with little more than a handful of dirt. If his rep’s anything to go by, we’ll need him.

Colonel Wolfe was pouring himself a glass of whisky as Graham went over the revised list. When the Lieutenant finished, Garrett gobbled down the drink and placed his fingers over his temples in exhaustion. Burden’s getting to him, Graham realized.

- There. I’ll get to work now, see if I can’t put together this little squad of yours. Of ours.

- It’s been too long since we’ve had a proper force on the field. Things with Saigo are gonna get messy soon, no matter how much diplomatic sand they throw in our eyes. And… we can’t rely on the Blitz Unit anymore.

It pained him to admit it, but Garrett had been right that other day. He’d mostly ignored the issue, but there was no doubt that the Unit he once belonged to was gone in all but name, and the current representatives were questionable at best. How the mighty have fallen…

- Glad you see it too. Now get outta here, I got a truckload of phone calls to make. God dammit Ford, you owe me big time for going through with this crap.

- I know. Thanks Wolfe.

As Graham left the office and closed the door behind him, he couldn’t fight off a smile. Garrett’s irritation was a poor attempt at concealing enthusiasm; the Colonel knew they were on the verge of doing something big. If Wolfe’s influence was now as powerful as he suspected, it was only a matter of time before they had the necessary soldiers. When that happened, Squad Six would be ready to elevate the East Division back to its former glory - and better prepared than ever for the impending war against the Saigo Region.

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It was the middle of December. Another one of Heiml’s unforgiving winters had come to stay; there was no colder, harsher season in the entire Pokemon World. Heimlans, however, had learned to accept and adapt to these circumstances – it was for good reason that people called these inhabitants of the northernmost region of the globe “the hardy folk”.

Chilling winds howled across the Division Headquarter’s wide front yard. In the center, ten men stood at attention, forming a perfectly straight line; their uniforms differed slightly, mostly in color, indicating their wearers’ allegiance to distinct units. Three wore crimson garments, three others dark green, two were dressed in white and two more were clad in pale yellow. Each bore different insignia pinned to their jackets, and all ten sported black gloves, a standard accessory of Heiml Army officers.

- Soldiers, stand at attention!

Colonel Garrett Wolfe sounded harsh and imposing. He stood next to Graham, both men wearing the black uniforms reserved for higher-ranked officials – the only distinguishing feature between their respective apparels was the extra silver medal strapped to the Colonel’s jacket.

He got all of them. Every single one…

Of the revised list Garrett had shown him, with ten underlined names, Graham had never expected some of those soldiers to be recruited – even if he was the one putting forth those very names to begin with, when drafting the list for the ideal Squad Six. To think that Garrett had successfully made use of his newfound authority as Colonel, in order to snatch the very best soldiers in the Division from their respective Units…

He was the right man to get that promotion, not me. I don’t have nearly enough patience for politics, whereas Garrett managed to grab all these guys in a matter of weeks…

Graham didn’t particularly care about the “honor” behind a promotion; whether he was referred to as “Sergeant Ford” or “Lieutenant Ford”, it was all the same to him. But there was no denying that there was power to those shiny medals, increased relevance behind the scenes that came with resounding names such as “Colonel”. If nothing else, what Garrett had just accomplished was a testament to the strength of military hierarchies.

- As you’re all aware, you have been selected to integrate a new team within the East Division. A new squadron of elite soldiers, destined for missions of the absolute highest importance. You were chosen because you were the best in your respective units; as you may imagine, rounding up you lot wasn’t easy – there was a lot of resistance from your previous superior officers. As such… I expect nothing but absolute dedication and commitment to your new home. Welcome to Squad Six.

Graham listened as the Colonel went on. These kids would never know the real Garrett Wolfe like he did, but that didn’t make him any less admirable: behind the sternness of his voice, he could instill a sense of pride and passion in his speech that made anyone want to follow him into battle.

When Colonel Wolfe finished, it was time for Lieutenant Ford to speak up. Graham managed to spot the faint outline of a smile crossing Garrett’s lips when he closed his speech – obviously a mix of relief that he didn’t have to talk anymore, and elation for having given form to his friend’s vision. For that, too, Graham would be eternally grateful to his friend.

- Gentlemen, - Graham’s voice sounded rougher than Garrett’s, but equally intense – this new Squad is a brainchild of mine, made possible by Colonel Wolfe. Your talents will be indispensable for the times and assignments ahead: whether people realize it or not, we are on the brink of war.

He stopped to gauge their reactions. As he’d expected, the former Espionage members barely reacted, but everyone else gave him a look of surprise.

- I cannot, and will not, go into details at this point. First we learn to work as a team, then we’ll have time to talk. Officers Van Dillan, Frank Vicker and Sid Gapper!

The three dark green-uniformed men – the color of the Espionage Unit – stepped forward. Dillan was a man in his late twenties, with crimson hair, deep green eyes and a slender, handsome complexion; he couldn’t fight back a smile as his name was called, visibly proud of himself. Vicker was at least ten years older than Dillan, bald and with thin glasses, shallow wrinkles beginning to form on the sides of his mouth and cold black eyes that had no doubt glanced through countless classified files of government secrets. Gapper, the youngest of the three, had short blonde hair and unbridled happiness in his light blue eyes, though he kept his composure as he stepped forward; that such a carefree, almost childish expression housed a phenomenal spy beneath was both baffling and slightly scary.

- Drop the smirk, Dillan; there’s no place for egos on this team. The three of you are the best Intel & Espionage members of this Division, and from here on out you’ll be this Squad’s eyes and ears. You’ll answer directly to Colonel Wolfe or myself, and nobody else. Is that clear?

- Yes sir! – they answered in unison.

The Espionage trio then stepped back in perfect synchrony, allowing Graham to call forth the next group.

- Officers Leo Bergman, Mitch Manning and Rodney Stout!

This time, it was the men dressed in crimson who moved forward a step. Bergman was the tallest of the three, a perfect physical specimen in his own right; he had short, pitch-black hair and a carefully trimmed beard, dark eyes concealing an unusually sharp intellect, rarely found in men of action from the Assault Unit. Manning was widely known as the Division’s “golden boy”, a fair-haired soldier with hazel eyes and handsome complexion, and his skill with firearms was second to none – even above Wolfe’s. Stout’s skin was more tanned than most, similar to Graham’s; he was slightly shorter than the rest of the Assault members, with broad shoulders and a perpetual frown, two thick black eyebrows almost permanently joined together. If gossip around camp was to be believed, Stout’s temper was even worse than Graham’s.

- In the times ahead, we will be relying on your combat prowess above all else. We need both you and your Pokemon in optimal condition, which is to say, we expect you to perform as excellently for us as you did in your former unit. No hesitations, no lack of preparation, no mistakes. When you’re brought into the fray, it will be because Heiml needs the absolute best on the field. Understood?

- Yes sir!

Graham smiled briefly. It was still difficult to come to terms with the fact that he owned the best of the best… and that, even if General Roderick Tannhauser himself refused to admit it, Squad Six would be instrumental in deciding the war everyone was so busy denying.

- Officers James O’Hara and Eli Crowe.

The two soldiers with white uniforms stepped forward. O’Hara was a foreigner from southern lands (“Aloha”, was it?), a warm-hearted kid by all accounts, with light brown hair and an easy smile. Crowe was, in pretty much all aspects, the antithesis of his Support teammate. Pasty-white skin, unkempt black hair and a lifeless expression, but widely regarded as a medical genius and the best man to have around when one’s injured.

- You will be the angels of Squad Six. I don’t care how serious a wound may be or how widespread an infection gets: your job is to bring your teammates back from the goddamn dead! I know you’re good enough to do it, or I wouldn’t have brought you in. Did I make myself clear?

- Yes sir!

It finally came time to call forth the last group, the two men Wolfe had been most skeptical about. Graham himself wasn’t too sure he’d know how to handle them, the exact opposites of what his old Blitz Unit stood for: the Heavy Artillery & Demolition unit.

- Officers Ben Allister and Jackson Brody.

The two largest man of the group, both clad in yellow, stepped forward with confidence. Allister was also a foreigner like O’Hara, but hailed from Unova. A massive man, towering over everyone else but Brody, with spiky blonde hair and a thick beard, he was called the “gentle giant” among his Demolition peers. Brody was about as tall as Allister, older than him and with a different complexion: bald, with a dark brown braided beard, reminiscent of the first Heimlan warriors, and with a tribal tattoo on his right shoulder that extended the side of his neck – ink he got before enlisting, no doubt, and only served to give “Big Time” Jackson Brody a more fearsome look, although his temper was said to be mostly mild unless provoked.

- Squad Six’s Juggernauts. You will shatter the opposition, lay waste to our enemies and leave nothing but dust in your wake! I don’t care if you used to demolish buildings or men – from here on out, you will trample what we tell you to trample. You and your Pokemon have the power to tilt the scales of an entire war, so use it to the best of your abilities! All clear?

- Yes sir!

Hanson Reed, I’ll be borrowing your tutor for now. Can’t promise I’ll return him… Hopefully you’ll understand it’s for the greater good.

Graham and Garrett exchanged a glance, and then it was the Colonel who spoke again.

- From here on out, we are Squad Six. Soon you’ll understand that there aren’t ten of you and two of us, but twelve soldiers dedicated to shielding Heiml from the gravest, most demanding threats. Whether those are already apparent to you or not doesn’t matter – time will come when our services will be required, and when that day comes, the people we swore to protect will expect us to be at our very best. Starting today, that is what we’ll aim to achieve. Squad Six… dismissed!

When the ten elite officers left the front yard, returning to the warmth of the HQ building, Graham and Garrett shook hands.

- You actually got every single one of them… how much rear-kissing did it take?

- More than you could stomach, Ford, but somehow less than I expected. You damn better be right about this war of yours… I owe favors to all kinds of unsavoury people backstage.

- You know I’m right. You heard the same whispers I did. It’s only a matter of time; diplomatic venues with Saigo have all been exhausted, there are no more bridges left to burn, no matter how hard they try to cover it up.

Garrett muttered something, as he so often did when annoyed, then reached for the single Ultra Ball strapped to his belt. Graham grinned at the silent request.

- Need to unwind after all that chit-chat, eh? I’m up for that. And so is Ruger.

- Why do you keep talking then? Wesson, stand by!

The black and yellow device snapped open, releasing a wave of plasma that soon took the form of a focused-looking Elekid, arms rotating repeatedly as he prepared to engage. Graham, in turn, unclipped the lone Pokeball from his own belt and tossed it to the floor.

- Line up your shot… Ruger!

The Chimchar materialized and grinned at the sight of his old rival. They’d just battled one another a couple of weeks prior, with Wesson coming out on top – as always -, but Ruger knew this would finally be his day!

Graham and Garrett looked at one another in silence. This was how well they knew each other: Pokeball-compatible belts weren’t part of the Heiml Army’s formal apparel, as officers weren’t supposed to bring Pokemon to official events; but both Graham and Garrett knew they’d need to loosen up after a lot more talk than either could stomach, and that always meant letting off steam with a battle. Otherwise, Ruger and Wesson wouldn’t have come along to begin with.

- Ruger, Flame Wheel!

- Run him over! Wild Charge!

The front yard was the widest space in the entire HQ perimeter. So much so, that most privates preferred to do their morning jogging there, rather than in the gym or the designated drill field. That lack of discipline from the youngsters had always irritated Graham, but now that he and Garrett had such an ample arena at their disposal, it became harder to argue against using the sprawling front yard for things other than official ceremonies. He’d try to remember that the next time he scolded a kid for running around the area.

Wesson and Ruger collided at the very center, flames and sparks entwining and dancing upwards into the sky in a marvelous display of color. Neither could overpower one another, Wild Charge and Flame Wheel cancelling each other out. Now in melee range of one another, the next logical orders became clear as day for both the Lieutenant and Colonel…

- Thunder Punch his lights out, Wesson!

- Heh… dodge and riposte with your Acrobatics!

Indeed, Graham predicted Garrett’s offense well, and Ruger nimbly evaded the electrified fist with a backflip, before somersaulting into a tackle all in one seamless motion – a bold move for a Bold-natured Pokemon! Wesson was sent flying back with the impact, but before Ruger could capitalize, Garrett had already formulated a counter of his own…

- Quick Attackas you land, then point-blank Thunderbolt!

As soon as Wesson’s foot touched the floor, the Elekid applied extra pressure and pushed himself in the opposite direction, jolting forward like a bullet! The move caught the supposedly-faster Ruger off-guard, causing him to lose his balance, which the Elekid immediately capitalized on! A pillar of lightning shot upwards, enveloping the Chimchar, and when the electricity faded into the air, Ruger fell on his knees, then dropped to the side… entirely unconscious.

- To Hell with you, Wolfe… always one damn step ahead. Ah, good showing.

Graham recalled Ruger into his Pokeball, after which Graham did the same with Wesson

- You’re still too easy to read. Don’t let your guard down just because you pulled off one decent counter! Fun while it lasted though. Gah… my head hurts. Need a damn drink. Let’s get out of here.

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The canteen was noisy, food was lousy as always and all Graham wanted was to pull that damn eight of diamonds he kept missing. Oblivious to his friend’s Solitaire troubles, Garrett stared absent-mindedly at the old TV screen on the wall while sipping his Tohjo Falls Brew.

”Ivan Sanders, the prodigy from Saffron City and alleged discoverer of the Steel Type, has just passed the Altheim Gate on his way to Victory Road! Will the foreign sensation finally be the one to dethrone Heiml’s reigning Champion, Gottfried?!”

- Another challenger… think this will be the one to do it, Ford?

- Gottfried’s been our Champion for over twenty years. Kid’s been travelling for what, less than two? There’s your answer.

Just then, the Colonel’s phone started ringing. Garrett looked at the screen and his expression changed, Graham could tell.

- Yes. Lieuten… I mean, Colonel Garrett Wolfe speaking. Yes… What?!

Garrett jumped off his seat, dashed towards the cafeteria’s counter and pried the TV remote from the clerk’s hand. When the channel was switched, Graham saw images of a town burning, people running frantically in every direction, medical staff and their Chansey tending to the injured… The entire cafeteria erupted in a hundred different conversations over was what being broadcast, until Garrett’s voice boomed across the room, a violent roar that caught everyone off guard.

- SHUT THE HELL UP, MAGGOTS!!

After that, only the news reporter on the TV could be heard. And what he said only served to confirm Graham’s darkest suspicions…

”… upwards of 120 casualties, though definitive numbers will presumably only be revealed in a few days . All we know so far is that two military airplanes, as of yet unidentified, have bombarded the west residential area of Yggdra City about one hour ago. We await an official statement by the Government, and will keep you posted of any developments.”

Garrett returned to his seat, his face white in shock and terror. When he addressed Graham, all he could utter were four faint words.

- So you were right…

Graham stored his old deck of cards away, slowly, each deliberate movement of picking a card and adding it to the pile a failed shot at regaining composure. Only one thought kept running through his head, again and again, in a perpetual cycle.

We are at war.

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((Well, that's it. This is supposed to be a continuum, hence the lack of a major climax in this one. It's a tale in progress, and this is all in the past - things have changed considerably for Graham and Squad Six since the times depicted in this first "side chapter".
As for advice: I'm open to pretty much anything, since English isn't my native language.
I'm applying for money, not a capture.
Thanks! ))

 

HEY THERE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING TOO LONG LET'S DO THIS.

 

Hey there. I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting so long. Let’s jump right in.

THE BEGINNING STUFF

How you start your story is hugely important. There’s a couple of things you want to do—catch your reader’s attention with something interesting, and then make sure that that something interesting actually segues into your story. Obviously, each reader is going to be different, so there’s no catch-all solution, but I think you did a great job for a few reasons.

Right away, you focus a lot on building up your setting and characters, which was definitely a strong point. You had just the right amount of details to set the slightly morose tone, and Ford’s character comes across brilliantly in the first few paragraphs with comments like “Hypocrites, the lot of them.” Your setting came across really well—perhaps not the details of the building itself, but the general tone of how the rest of the story would go.

The other area that I think your intro really excelled in was how seamlessly it melded into the rest of your story. It was engaging at first, and the tone was basically set by the end of the page and stayed constant throughout. This was awesome. You are awesome. We’re off to a great start.


THE PLOTTY THINGS

This wasn’t an action-based story, and I appreciated it. You did a really good job of handling your character interactions well, and while things weren’t blowing up at this exact moment, I got the feeling that you were setting up for something epic. I appreciated the care you gave to your two main characters—Wolfe and Ford felt like real people, and their interactions were genuine, and overall just reading them talk and think was by far the most enjoyable part of the story. I particularly appreciated the banter:

However, I do think that some parts of your story suffered when the focus changed. For instance, the feel of consequences/impending doom was communicated a few times—there’s a big war coming, which is why this entire plot is happening—but besides you mentioning that there’s a war coming, there wasn’t really the feel of it. People are getting promotions, soldiers go out for drinks, and generally everyone seems pretty relaxed except for the few times that Ford mentions impending doom, which in turn feel vastly out of place with the tone you’ve got. People feel grim and situations seem quiet, but sometimes you’ll drop lines that make me feel like you’re trying to build up to something momentous, but it’s not quite there yet.

This lack of stakes ties into one of the cardinal rules of writing: show people that stuff is happening, don’t tell it. If you want to convey that your world is about to explode into political unrest, maybe talk about some of the things that would predate that—are the soldiers uneasy that they’re here? Maybe the floofy bureaucrats refuse to believe that war is coming and the underlings don’t know, but Ford has found some secret evidence that convinces him that things are about to go south. Maybe Wolfe intercepts a letter that seems like a code that they can’t understand. Having things start very calm and then expecting the reader to be nervous about the war announced in the last few paragraphs is a bit counter-intuitive, I think. There’s a lot of ways to build tension and suggest that your plot is really about to kick off, and I encourage you to explore some of the more subtle worldbuilding-y aspects to it.

I think one of the other areas your plot dragged was the plot itself, actually. The back-half felt a little redundant: after going through the potential members of Squad Six and all their strengths, meeting them in person felt very repetitive (and redundant! and repetitive!). The general flow of the story slowed down vastly, because introducing them again didn’t really change much from Ford/Wolfe’s initial conversation. The final battle at the end felt a little rushed, too—it kind of got thrown in there for no reason, and its motivation/setup was so similar to the first one that it felt unnecessary. Just food for thought: callbacks/parallel structure can be very effective in a story, but usually there’s a time and a place—if you don’t wait long enough between the first instance and the callback, and if there isn’t sufficient change between both times, it just feels like repetition. This in turn makes your story drag, which is unideal.

Otherwise, though, character interactions were seamless even if the supporting world/plot was a little bumpy at points.


GRAMMAR AND MECHANICAL THINGS

I take it that English isn’t your first language from the way you punctuate dialogue, so bear with me while we go through the mechanics. Other than that, your story was very clean from a grammar perspective, so good work there. If things get confusing, please reach out to me—punctuating dialogue is easily one of the most confusing things in writing.

For the first easy fix, dialogue is wrapped in quotation marks (“”), so:

^the second one is what it should look like

Then stuff gets kinda confusing. There are called “dialogue tags” which are basically synonyms of “said”. When you have a dialogue tag modifying a bit of dialogue, you’ll use a comma to stick the two bits together:

^note that you don’t even need to type “Graham said” for the sentence to make sense, but in case you’re planning on incorporating that into your style, that’s how you do it.

And sometimes there are things that you’ll talk about that aren’t dialogue tags, ie they don’t fit into the dialogue in question, in which case you’d just punctuate both the dialogue and the next sentence normally:

And that’s the quick and dirty rundown for one of the most obnoxious structures in the English language!


OVERALL THINGS

You’ve been waiting plenty long for this, so I don’t want to drag things out further. I loved the way you wrote your characters; that’s definitely a strong suit for you. Your plot structure could use a little work, but for a story of this length, it wasn’t too glaring, and I think you managed things wonderfully. For a first story attempt, this was great, and I’m gonna go ahead and give this a hard-ranked equivalent, meaning you can claim a well-deserved $15k.

Sorry for the wait, and please let me know if you have any questions![/quote]

 

Oh wow, thanks! This really is a change for me, getting my work commented on to such detail.

You're right about the language thing: in Portuguese, we introduce dialogue with " - ", but I'll work on that! You and Magikchicken were the first that ever pointed this out, never realized tgere was a difference!

I'll work on your advice and try to do better in the future!
I guess one of the issues with episodic writing is that many plot points only make themselves known much later into the story; hopefully some of the more boring parts of this chapter will be justified in later chapters!

Thanks for the in-depth review and the kind words.

Claiming payment!
6.500 + 15.000 = $21.500