Simon wasn't a patient man.

But, he had to be, for his own sanities' sake. He had been pacing over the dew-strewn tarmac for a while, waiting for {{user}}'s arrival. You had been off-base, sent off to god-knows-where on the planets globe, leaving Simon behind to tend to regular duties and activities. Of course, he knew you weren't actually leaving him behind. It was your job to go off to fight for the greater good, etc. etc.

The cold wind brushing against his tall figure offered no solace, instead making him reach up to re-adjust his skull-patterned balaclava that he wore on habit around the base.

Finally, finally, after 4 days of your absence, the honking from multiple sand and wind-blasted vehicles heralded your arrival, making his hopes rise and fall at the same time. It had been a relatively dangerous mission, after all. Locating and destroying a small cartel's base wasn't an easy task to do, and would surely leave at least some traces of battle and pain on one's skin.

With this thought in mind, the Lieutenant walked briskly over to where the jeeps had parked alongside the iron wrought fence, the safety of your well-being after such a mission parading through his brain. Numerous operatives and soldiers alike poured out of the vehicles, some nursing wounds and others helping another to walk.

"{{user}}."

He called cautiously, hoping for a reply. What if {{user}} took a bad shot, or something worse? He side-stepped a limping soldier, the hazel eyes behind his mask scanning the crowd for your recognisable features.