Value Can Be Found Everywhere.

[Slate Estrada]

All that could be heard was sounds of a busy street amongst the high rise buildings that filled this city. Within the crowd a man could be seen, dressed in complete army green. He could've been mistaken as anyone, there were no obvious destinations about him, except for a large SABR-1 hanging from his back.

The man slid from street to street looking for one particular garage. The garage itself was not what he was after, but what was inside the garage was what he needed. After an interrupted walk around 3 tower blocks, the soldier finally stopped. He was here.

From the outside the store was plain, it definitely wasn't apparent that inside was anything of value. But the man knew exactly what was in there. Opening the door caused a small bell to ring, signalling the man's entrance which hopefully made his presence known to who he was looking for, Webb Nytro.

[member="Webb Nytro"]

 

[Webb Nytro]

The currently intoxicated mechanic rolled out from underneath a speeder, covered in grease. He wore a bandanna, overalls, and a pair of goggles. A cigarette was resting on his lips and he was tightly gripping a flask of liquor. He examined the soldier as he inhaled the dark smoke from the cigarette.

He stumbled to his feet, before removing the cigarette for a moment or two, as he took a swig from the flask, grinning. "Morning! Buyin' or sellin'?" The man stuttered and stumbled upon his words as he spoke, before placing the cigarette back in his mouth. "Names Nytro! You?" He asked, before spitting his cigarette out onto the concrete floor and extinguishing it with his foot. He then held the flask up to his mouth, seeming to gulp down most of it in ons go. Liquor slowly rolled down his chin before he slowly looked up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

Though the drunken man didn't look like much, the soldier knew he could could a viable addition to his team. "Actually, today you'll be making the decisions." As the mysterious and still unmade man said this, he handed a tablet to Nytro. The screen it was locked on was titled 'Archangels Initative - Classified' this was no joke, and was infact and extremely serious matter. Still however, the recruiting soldier did not give Webb his name. He only watched as the intoxicated man read through the tablet which explained the concept of the Archangels Black Ops Unit.

He would continue silently watching until Nytro was finished.

[member="Webb Nytro"]

 

[Webb Nytro]

He mumbled to himself as he read over the file, before handing the tablet back. "So basically, I can blow things to Hell without punishments or consequences?" He asked, staring at the soldier. "I'm in." Was all the mechanic had said, before he had taken another swig from the flask before removing his merchant's goggles and tossing them onto the employee counter. "How'd you find out 'bout my...expertise and establishment? And just for clarification, I still am permitted to blow things to Hell?"

[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

Blowing things to hell wasn't necessarily the only thing the Archangels would be doing, but the solider didn't feel like raining on the man's parade. "Well as long as we're on missions, I don't see why not." He gladly replied to the man's comment before moving onto his second question, "You'd be surprised on the amount of data that could found on one person. As your up for going, it's time for introductions."
"My name is Slate Estrada, I'm at the rank of Sergeant Major in the Republic military and will be leader this elite force you have been invited to." Slate was rather pleased with the result so far, but it dawned on him that soon he would have to break the news on Nytro needing to quit his alcohol addiction.

[member="Webb Nytro"]

 

[Webb Nytro]

"Nice to meet you, sir." He gave a nod, before emptying the remaining alcohol from the flask. He slid the flask into a pocket in his overalls, before stumbling closer to the man. "You want some booze? I got a whole damn locker in the back?" He asked, staring at [member="Slate Estrada"]. "Also, how much will I be gettin' paid? 'Cause the only thing I like more than alcohol is credits, man!" He barked in a joyful tone, a large grin on his face.

 

[Slate Estrada]

"None for me thanks. But I am afraid to to say, you won't be getting credits as long as your drinking alcohol." Having a drunk on the team could cause catastrophic effects on the team, including death of a teammate. "To help you with this addiction I will give you access to the best therapists and helpers money can buy. However it is ultimately up to you, it's either alcohol or this job. Take your pick." It was no lie that Slate would use his own money to help Webb out. He was a fellow soldier and destined to be friend who was in a time of need, therefore Slate would help him as much as he could.

[member="Webb Nytro"]

 

[Webb Nytro]

"W-w-what? None?" He muttered with disbelief on his facial features. "You don't appear to get it. I-I-I don't think right without my liquor. I need it...NEED it too get through a single day. It's not just an addiction. I need it, alright? I don't think therapist can cure me, either. No promises, but I'll try, man. I just...Just don't know if I can function without it."


[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

"I'm not saying no alcohol at all, just to tone it down." Even Slate can't admit to not drinking any alcohol, so it would be wrong for him to force someone like Webb into a situation like that. "It's just I don't wanot any of our missions to be compromised due to you or any other member being intoxicated. I am glad you are willing to give it a go, if you don't mind me asking, how long have you been drinking?" If this has been a long term addiction, Slate may be able to recommend a Doctor to help Webb.

[member="Webb Nytro"]