Archangels Grace
Trust in me.
Alexs voice lingered in her head as her slender fingers fluttered fervidly across the piano, a mesmerising arrangement infusing the chilly room with melodic warmth. Usually she loved playing the piano but this time her hands were automatic and detached the melody bringing no calm and the chords no harmony, for her mind was elsewhere.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0525 Local Time
What in the seven shades of hell have we stumbled into?
Wolf inhaled chillingly, stepping back from the scene. Through his visors night vision he could see how strikingly the copious amounts of blood contrasted with the steel floor and for his life willed himself not to think how anyone could even lose that much blood. A stream of dark trailed along a night vision green floor, dark handprints smeared across a dark sprayed wall.
How did it get onto the roof?
Jackal brushed pass, upper face also hidden behind his visor. For once that jokester was silent. Wolf heard Coyote gasp audibly and clenched his jaw tight. As a geospatial technician, Coyote was the only one of them without combat experience. The only one alive without combat experience, Wolf corrected, remembering Dog.
Henesys Liberation: 1 Encryption
Forest West of Henesys
The emerald green foliage swayed peacefully in the soft breeze as Grier patrolled along the Western border, clad in a blue lumati, her Olympus slung on her back. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting a pale green-yellow shine on the hunter. With the soft crunch of dried leaves, Keli appeared ahead of her, also on his guard duty. Traffic coming from the three way road split was thinning out as the day was reaching its end. With a barely audible yawn, Grier unstrung her Olympus and headed wearily back to the West Outpost. She stopped as she saw something flicker in her peripheral vision but when she turned, it was gone. Assuming it to be a pig or the like, she continued her way, leaving behind the Forest West of Henesys.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0515 Local Time
Lavender. That was what he could smell. He sniffed again appreciatively and in curiosity. Why would there be flowers in here? The gun mounted flashlight washed the room in a diluted light, vainly trying to break the unnatural darkness. Somewhere behind him to his left, he heard the rest breach another room. He inhaled the scent, closing his eyes briefly. His initiative saved him. His wings jerked and propelled him into a dive as the force spear lashed out from the darkness.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0510 Local Time
The fist slammed into the counter for the third time, sending a stationery container tumbling to the ground. Wolf glanced casually at the agitated Jackal who was swearing profoundly at the camera screens. His knuckles raw and stinging from his abuse of the desk, Jackal slammed his size fourteen steel capped boot into it instead. Reclining in the swivel chair, Wolfs attention drifted as Coyote appeared in the doorway, drawn in by the noise Jackal was making. She threw a quizzical look at Wolf.
Somebodys overriding the system. And he cant figure out where from. Wolf explained, waving a hand at the console.
Jackal, violence isnt helping anyone here. Coyote admonished, wiggling a finger. Jackal paused and exhaled sharply, glancing vehemently at Coyote. He pushed away from the counter to give the woman a clear view.
Hey, I majored in geospatial information. Not technology. Thats your field.
Well, look anyway.
Jackal stabbed a finger at a particular screen showing a partial blueprint of the research facility.
Somebody has bypassed the ISS codes and activated some power generators that I cant for my life find on the fething schematics! Theyve started some ancient protocols and are in full control of the system. I cant penetrate through this shield wall thats been setup. Feth, this cant be the MSND. They aint tech heads.
Wolf reviewed each screen in turn. Half of them were the results of Jackals attempt to hack into the system. A grid of hexagons shifted across the screen, blatanly flashing some error code called: Shield Wall Type 000.
Maybe its those new arrivals. Wolf suggested, half-heartedly scrolling down one of the blocked screens.
I have no fething idea whats going on here. Were fething locked out of the fething system Jackal snarled, standing up. This was supposed to be a pushover. Get the info and GTFO. It doesnt help that Dog didnt make it. He added.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0500 Local Time
You know, there are some times where I miss being a civilian. Times like these for instance.
Private Joseph looked incredulously at his commanding officer, five metres away, crouching behind a knocked over desk with manila folders spilt all over the floor. Just moments before, a stun grenade had sailed into the room. And what usually happens when something foreign comes flying at you? You look at. The crack soldiers of the Maple Special Navy Detachment 303 were not exception. Private First Class Nezzy took the full force of the blast, being the one investigating out in the open. Wisely, the recon blindly dived away from the door, saving him from a row of sorcerous bolts that stitched up the tiles where he was previously standing.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0445 Local Time
Cold. That was a new sensation to him. He pulled his clammy hands off the railing, scrutinising them slowly. It had been over forty years since he had such physical feelings. To him they were alien. Unknown and dangerous. Just how he portrayed himself. Forty years had radically changed this place. It had turned from a futuristic, well constructed experimental science facility to a dilapidated and feeble ghost of his achievements. Running his tongue against his teeth he savoured the feeling of warmth. Shuffling slowly down the corridor, he marvelled the instrument that he had requisitioned. Perhaps not the most physically intimidating body but it had its strengths, hidden away in the lean frame. Quite tall too but the body was not perfect, though it was adequate for his immediate needs. His shallow coal black eyes burned with intensity as it spied a familiar reinforced airlock. Too long he had hidden. Too long he had exiled himself whilst the world revolved. Too long.
Ancient Research Facility
Offshore, West of Ossyria
24th April 2042
0435 Local Time
The rank smell of ichor and blood invaded his senses as he drifted back into consciousness. For a scant few moments, he remembered nothing except that he was alive. Bracing himself against the slick metal floor, he paused as his mind stalled and restarted, a muffled rhythmic sound drumming against his skull. His body involuntarily quivered as the sound started to crescendo, becoming a psychically painful droning that made his ears start to bleed. Suddenly it was washed out as the structure around him shook violently, chips of concrete rattling onto the floor, snapping him out of the trance. Determinedly he stood up, full of resolve. Then just as fast, he dropped vomiting at the sight he just saw.
Maple Logistics Authority
Ludibrium, Ossyria
24rd April 2042
0335 Local Time
The sounds of charging mana engines reverberated in the confines of hanger SG-06, the poor acoustics overlapping the noise into one continuous hum. Muffled by the powerful engines, the flick deck shutters slid open, bathing the metallic interior with the dark shadows cast by the moon. Sergeant Ganzicus checked off his squad and let his eyes wander over to the virgin soldiers of Zeta Unit, whom were forming up nearby. He watched their young faces, fresh out of Orbis Academy, never having the witnessed the crucible of war. Although Zeta was a fully new unit, there would be no doubt that they would prove themselves when the situation demanded it. It was more reassuring to Ganzicus that his team were all hand picked veterans of the Valentines Day Massacre, save for a select few. He turned away from Zeta, his mind brushing upon his own scarred youth.
Maple Logistics Authority
Ludibrium, Ossyria
24rd April 2042
0325 Local Time
Ben lounged around the common room, taking a deep draught from one of Private Tylers cigarettes. Lazily he glanced at his wristwatch before extinguishing the butt of the cigarette on the wall. Slinging his battered machine gun over his weathered arm, he cooling sauntered into the airconditioned hallway, his combat boots thudding dully on the white floor. There was about ten minutes before the mission started and everyone else had probably already assembled on the flight deck. That meant he had ten minutes to complete his task.