Smalls sat on a supply crate as she listened, leaning against a hanging chain for support. Her gut churned slightly as she heard her Skullheart lose her squad, giving the woman a comforting look but keeping silent for now. She'd been tempted to call Sarkisian out for welshing on the bet from last night but kept that for later as well. Maybe Smalls was just sore about losing Bravo for Charlie.
"Yeah," Smalls called snidely when Nym asked for questions, doing her best Hudson impersonation, "How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?"
Laughing to herself, she to hopped off the crate and waited for her squad to gather around, eyeing up just who she got. She was happy she had a few more vets this time around, counting Micki there'd be four old hand around, though Smalls had never seen two in action, Rynth came with a rep. She wondered briefly if the two medic were Nym having a crack again about the arguement last night before their fight, but brushed it off, redundancy was good. The muscled bound herm was another thing altogether and Smalls decided she was here because Nym didn't want the competition in her squad.
"All right, listen up." the Australian shouted, giving the evil eye to the woman saluting her and deciding she would have to break the woman of the dangerous behavior.
"You people will not die on me in combat. You fucking new guys will do everything you can to prove me wrong." She started, "You'll walk on trails, kick cans, inhale xeno gass and diddely-bop through the bush like you were back on the block. On guard at night you'll write letters, play with your organ, and think of your girl back home. Forget her. Right now, some Muton has her on her back and is fucking her into oblivion."
"This is our enemy." She pointed to the identification silhouettes painted on the wall, "Those of you who are foolish will think of him as 'Nid,' 'Bug,' Zoot' or 'Alf.' He is your enemy. Now forget about this E.T. shit. What you'll encounter out there is hard core Xeno, Muton and worse. Highly motivated, highly trained and well equipped. If you meet him or his cousins, you will give him respect. Meet him twice, and survive, and you will refer to him as 'Mister Muton.' Now people, I am sick and tired of filling body bags with your dumb fucking mistakes. You want to make it out of here you will listen to those that know, you will listen to us old bats and we will teach you."
"Some of you think you have problems because you've lost something in this the war." She paused to eye off Micki, seeing if her old squaddie would react to the speach "You demonstrated at home, keep hate filled mementos, and you have attitudes. I'm an orphan, my brother's queer, the city of Chicago got the clap from my sister, Mom drinks, Dad coughs blood, I have ringworm, immersion foot, the incurable crud and the alien invasion ruined my chances of being a brain surgeon. People, you are in XCOM. You have no problems. Except me."
"And him," She finished up by pointing at the silhouette of the Berzerker.
"Now one final thing ladies before we embark upon this most ambitious endeavour," She smiled, dropping a bag of spray cans and masking tape in the centre of the huddle, "I ain't fuckin' leadin' a merry gaggle of Ultra Smurfs into battle, so get paitin'."
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