Okay, so what happened is…
No, sir, I would not lie to you. I will contain myself to the purely factual. Yes sir. No sir. The squid were factual. I have pictures. No sir, there were no squid at the village.
Anyway, so, we were waiting for the skip to show up when those Gock bastards showed up. Forgive my language, sir. I did not know you were sensitive, sir. I will try to be delicate in the future.
Anyway, the Gocks. They showed up. They were tryin' to be sneaky, but we spotted 'em pretty quick. Black is not a good camouflage color. I don't care if it's dark, you want some gray in there, break up your outline. Of course, that was just before Johnson sneezed. Yes sir. I will be sure to mention it to him at his wake. I am sure his widow will be appreciative of constructive criticism.
There were a few shots fired, but no casualties then. More in way of a handshake. Yes sir, I am aware that I do not have sufficient authority to initiate hostilities with a group of interest. We were just shooting at each other, y'know, friendly-like.
The Gock commander inquired as to the nature of our business there, and suggested that it might be best if we left the disposition of the skip to them. I suggested that instead, it might be best if they find another skip to kill, as we had prior interest in the one expected to soon arrive.
The conversation moved on, and he inquired as to the health and quality of my sexual partners. I responded with politely worded questions as to whether or not his mother had studied the field of animal husbandry, as he looked like someone with farming blood. The warmth and politeness we showed each other, sir, it would melt the cockles of your heart.
Our palaverin' ranged to many subjects what are not germane to this discussion, therefore I shall not speak of them further, except to mention that my men have a much larger vocabulary than what I would previously have credited them. They truly are a credit to the Foundation.
It was after about five minutes of this that the windows started bleedin', and we realized that the skip was gettin' close. With nary a thought to our own safety, we assumed positions of maximum tacticality for the skip's expected entry, which were by great coincidence also mostly covered from the Gock's positions.
Then we found out where our intelligence had fucked up yet again.
I am sorry, sir. I did not realize that you were a sp- an intelligence operative. I meant only that despite their great efforts, which surely involved many hours of hazardous duty behind a desk fighting papercuts, they missed the fact that this fucker ate light.
Excuse me again, sir. I meant this fascinating and no doubt valuable specimen.
Anyway, it went pitch dark. The Gocks were apparently fully aware of this ability, a fact I mention only as a curiousity what you might mention to your erstwhile colleagues in intel. They had night vision goggles, and seemed to feel they were fully equipped to deal with said skip. I can only speculate based on their screaming that they were not briefed on its vulnerability to silver. So, y'know, some things are universal.
Anyway, we started firin' blindly in the direction of the noises. Yeah, I think we probably killed a few of them, but you didn't hear 'em. Trust me, I don't think they woulda complained.
After, we did some clean-up, an' pulled out. If the Gock's pissed, well, they jumped into our op. They knew the risks, same as us. If it had gone a little different, we'd've been the ones scattered across Angola, and it wouldn't have been their fault, neither. Excuse my French, sir, but shit happens.
So, who won in the end? Well, most of us didn't die, but we ended up terminatin' the skip. So, y'know, call it a draw.