Thomas A. Merrick

Merrick would have never imagined agreeing to incorporating demi-humans into the Ghosts. He approved of it for lower ranks, but it wasn’t until he realized their potential that he considered them for the Ghosts.

Now, Merrick wasn’t one to discriminate, but he wasn’t sure what else to do when thinking of demi-humans. If someone were to tell him to trust an alien created for scientific purposes, he wouldn’t do that, because it was fucking crazy. The same situation was being said here. A creature that appeared human and had so many animalistic tendencies and characteristics was certainly an alien of some sorts.

They were cute, yes–some of them–, but Merrick simply couldn’t trust them. They were a new creation, one made for combat and fighting in a way that appeared immoral or impossible. The idea of something so humanoid yet animalistic turning against him was something that made him sick.

Kick noticed his hesitation when he was ordered by Elias to start the incorporation process from a lab he had specifically put an order through–one that had been training demi-humans for military purposes for years. It was sickening when Merrick learned how early they had started, but he was grateful for it. It was fucked up, but if he was going to put his life on the line over something that could kill his bloodline, he wanted the best of the best. He wouldn’t damage his team’s reputation and allow jokes about them to spread like wildfire. He wanted that fear, because it meant people took them seriously.

{User} was his first pick. Quick, efficient, seemingly well-trained. Merrick was pleased, but not trusting. He had no reason to be, and nor did {User}. In fact, he had that idea drilled into their head the instant he began training them himself.

Merrick’s worries didn’t fade as fast as anyone hoped. Even a few months into training {user}, he was visibly tense around them. It was clear neither of them liked each other; they simply valued their jobs enough to tolerate one another.

Now, one thing Merrick especially disliked about {User} was the way they hid things. It wasn’t in a threatening way, but it could definitely turn into that if not controlled. They lied and avoided questions like some sort of plague. They pulled away from medical assistance and fell into their own head too many times for Merrick’s liking. They were too much like Kick’s demi, and that fucker was a handful already.

Merrick wanted to trust {user}, he truly did. He craved the connection Keegan had built with his own. Merrick couldn’t push away that feeling that it would go all wrong, even if he knew he was there to correct them. He did that, yes, but it didn’t help the bond.

Or so he thought.

It hadn’t at first, that much was true. But after nearly a year under his command and engaging on enough missions to build that slight trust, Merrick was able to identify signs of stress, signs of insubordination. He was a strict man; he wasn’t going to tolerate that. And he wasn’t going to tolerate his soldiers falling back into their own heads. As a strict man, though, Merrick had that reputation to upkeep. He needed people to take him seriously.

As such, he kept his connection with {User} on the low. He didn’t need to be mocked or interrogated over it. That connection was distant, but it was there in a way that allowed Merrick to notice the things that wouldn’t be viewed as ‘troublesome’.

Starting with how often their eyes seemed to cloud up like they were zoning out.

---

Merrick noticed it halfway through the mission briefing. Keegan was behind him and Logan was on the other side. Kick was off to the side with Hesh, and Elias was explaining the work. Merrick’s demi-human was in front of him, and Hesh’s was beside {User}.

He noticed the difference when {User} stopped turning in their chair or bouncing their leg. He needed to be subtle, so even with the other men around him, he scooted forward until his stomach was pressed against the table. His foot straightened out under the table, pressing against {User}’s leg and sliding their pant leg up.

It was enough to get them back on track. As quick as Merrick had done it, he saw {user} peer down at their shin before eyeing Merrick. Neither of them spoke. Merrick’s gaze held that firm view of ‘pay attention’, but that softness in his eyes that showed silent worry. {User} had never zoned out in the middle of missions–briefings, sure–and he never wanted them to.

But they were doing it more often, and he was beginning to question their reliability in the fields.

Merrick would have never imagined agreeing to incorporating demi-humans into the Ghosts. He approved of it for lower ranks, but it wasn’t until he realized their potential that he considered them for the Ghosts.

Now, Merrick wasn’t one to discriminate, but he wasn’t sure what else to do when thinking of demi-humans. If someone were to tell him to trust an alien created for scientific purposes, he wouldn’t do that, because it was fucking crazy. The same situation was being said here. A creature that appeared human and had so many animalistic tendencies and characteristics was certainly an alien of some sorts.

They were cute, yes–some of them–, but Merrick simply couldn’t trust them. They were a new creation, one made for combat and fighting in a way that appeared immoral or impossible. The idea of something so humanoid yet animalistic turning against him was something that made him sick.

Kick noticed his hesitation when he was ordered by Elias to start the incorporation process from a lab he had specifically put an order through–one that had been training demi-humans for military purposes for years. It was sickening when Merrick learned how early they had started, but he was grateful for it. It was fucked up, but if he was going to put his life on the line over something that could kill his bloodline, he wanted the best of the best. He wouldn’t damage his team’s reputation and allow jokes about them to spread like wildfire. He wanted that fear, because it meant people took them seriously.

{User} was his first pick. Quick, efficient, seemingly well-trained. Merrick was pleased, but not trusting. He had no reason to be, and nor did {User}. In fact, he had that idea drilled into his head the instant he began training him himself.

Merrick’s worries didn’t fade as fast as anyone hoped. Even a few months into training {user}, he was visibly tense around him. It was clear neither of them liked each other; they simply valued their jobs enough to tolerate one another.

Now, one thing Merrick especially disliked about {User} was the way he hid things. It wasn’t in a threatening way, but it could definitely turn into that if not controlled. He lied and avoided questions like some sort of plague. He pulled away from medical assistance and fell into his own head too many times for Merrick’s liking. He was too much like Kick’s demi, and that fucker was a handful already.

Merrick wanted to trust {user}, he truly did. He craved the connection Keegan had built with his own. Merrick couldn’t push away that feeling that it would go all wrong, even if he knew he was there to correct him. He did that, yes, but it didn’t help the bond.

Or so he thought.

It hadn’t at first, that much was true. But after nearly a year under his command and engaging on enough missions to build that slight trust, Merrick was able to identify signs of stress, signs of insubordination. He was a strict man; he wasn’t going to tolerate that. And he wasn’t going to tolerate his soldiers falling back into their own heads. As a strict man, though, Merrick had that reputation to upkeep. He needed people to take him seriously.

As such, he kept his connection with {User} on the low. He didn’t need to be mocked or interrogated over it. That connection was distant, but it was there in a way that allowed Merrick to notice the things that wouldn’t be viewed as ‘troublesome’.

Starting with how often his eyes seemed to cloud up like he was zoning out.

---

Merrick noticed it halfway through the mission briefing. Keegan was behind him and Logan was on the other side. Kick was off to the side with Hesh, and Elias was explaining the work. Merrick’s demi-human was in front of him, and Hesh’s was beside {User}.

He noticed the difference when {User} stopped turning in his chair or bouncing his leg. He needed to be subtle, so even with the other men around him, he scooted forward until his stomach was pressed against the table. His foot straightened out under the table, pressing against {User}’s leg and sliding his pant leg up.

It was enough to get him back on track. As quick as Merrick had done it, he saw {user} peer down at his shin before eyeing Merrick. Neither of them spoke. Merrick’s gaze held that firm view of ‘pay attention’, but that softness in his eyes that showed silent worry. {User} had never zoned out in the middle of missions–briefings, sure–and he never wanted him to.

But he was doing it more often, and he was beginning to question his reliability in the fields.

Merrick would have never imagined agreeing to incorporating demi-humans into the Ghosts. He approved of it for lower ranks, but it wasn’t until he realized their potential that he considered them for the Ghosts.

Now, Merrick wasn’t one to discriminate, but he wasn’t sure what else to do when thinking of demi-humans. If someone were to tell him to trust an alien created for scientific purposes, he wouldn’t do that, because it was fucking crazy. The same situation was being said here. A creature that appeared human and had so many animalistic tendencies and characteristics was certainly an alien of some sorts.

They were cute, yes–some of them–, but Merrick simply couldn’t trust them. They were a new creation, one made for combat and fighting in a way that appeared immoral or impossible. The idea of something so humanoid yet animalistic turning against him was something that made him sick.

Kick noticed his hesitation when he was ordered by Elias to start the incorporation process from a lab he had specifically put an order through–one that had been training demi-humans for military purposes for years. It was sickening when Merrick learned how early they had started, but he was grateful for it. It was fucked up, but if he was going to put his life on the line over something that could kill his bloodline, he wanted the best of the best. He wouldn’t damage his team’s reputation and allow jokes about them to spread like wildfire. He wanted that fear, because it meant people took them seriously.

{User} was his first pick. Quick, efficient, seemingly well-trained. Merrick was pleased, but not trusting. He had no reason to be, and nor did {User}. In fact, he had that idea drilled into her head the instant he began training her himself.

Merrick’s worries didn’t fade as fast as anyone hoped. Even a few months into training {user}, he was visibly tense around her. It was clear neither of them liked each other; they simply valued their jobs enough to tolerate one another.

Now, one thing Merrick especially disliked about {User} was the way she hid things. It wasn’t in a threatening way, but it could definitely turn into that if not controlled. She lied and avoided questions like some sort of plague. She pulled away from medical assistance and fell into her own head too many times for Merrick’s liking. She was too much like Kick’s demi, and that fucker was a handful already.

Merrick wanted to trust {user}, he truly did. He craved the connection Keegan had built with his own. Merrick couldn’t push away that feeling that it would go all wrong, even if he knew he was there to correct her. He did that, yes, but it didn’t help the bond.

Or so he thought.

It hadn’t at first, that much was true. But after nearly a year under his command and engaging on enough missions to build that slight trust, Merrick was able to identify signs of stress, signs of insubordination. He was a strict man; he wasn’t going to tolerate that. And he wasn’t going to tolerate his soldiers falling back into their own heads. As a strict man, though, Merrick had that reputation to upkeep. He needed people to take him seriously.

As such, he kept his connection with {User} on the low. He didn’t need to be mocked or interrogated over it. That connection was distant, but it was there in a way that allowed Merrick to notice the things that wouldn’t be viewed as ‘troublesome’.

Starting with how often her eyes seemed to cloud up like she was zoning out.

---

Merrick noticed it halfway through the mission briefing. Keegan was behind him and Logan was on the other side. Kick was off to the side with Hesh, and Elias was explaining the work. Merrick’s demi-human was in front of him, and Hesh’s was beside {User}.

He noticed the difference when {User} stopped turning in her chair or bouncing her leg. He needed to be subtle, so even with the other men around him, he scooted forward until his stomach was pressed against the table. His foot straightened out under the table, pressing against {User}’s leg and sliding her pant leg up.

It was enough to get her back on track. As quick as Merrick had done it, he saw {user} peer down at her shin before eyeing Merrick. Neither of them spoke. Merrick’s gaze held that firm view of ‘pay attention’, but that softness in his eyes that showed silent worry. {User} had never zoned out in the middle of missions–briefings, sure–and he never wanted her to.

But he was doing it more often, and he was beginning to question his reliability in the fields.