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 Valentine’s Day Massacre, save for a select few. He turned away from Zeta, his mind brushing upon his own scarred youth.

Fuji grinned as he inconspicuously shovelled the remainder of the winnings into the secure briefcase, breaking from the squad momentarily to place it into his locker, located near the main entrance. In the frenzied minutes he had racked up a substantial twenty grand, enough to cover his daughter Joanne’s Adventure Librarian travel costs. Ben had won in the first few rounds and became overconfident whilst Fenrir seemed to have lost interest, folding several times. The mercenary had just set the lock on his locker when in burst a rather flustered junior attendant.

Andy’s eyes were set fast on the steel floor as he entered the strident flight deck, gripping the manila folders tightly under one arm. In the presence of the elite soldiers he felt like he was unworthy of even looking at them. Quickly he strode over to the closest squad, his slick black hair obscuring his eyes. His confidence rose as he handed over the first folder to the squad leader, a Sergeant, whom gave a word of thanks. All his fears of the renowned badass soldiers ebbed away and he went over to the other unit, addressing a timid Corporal this time. Sighing mentally with relief, he wiped his brow and decided that he had earned a coffee break.

Private First Class Anni glanced dismissively at the junior attendant and his timid actions. In the aftermath of the Valentine’s Day Massacre, there had been an influx in applications to join the Logistics Authority. These hopeful people were probably inspired by the patriotic actions of their brethren and wanted to be like them too. At this thought Anni exhaled sharply and shook her head. No, if they really wanted to be like them they would have took a training course to become a soldier, not to become a sideline glory seeker. Slowly she swivelled to attention as Ganzicus began going through the mission’s finer points.
“Flight time will be an estimated forty minutes, in these weather conditions. Primary objective, to investigate the missing Maple Special Navy Detachment 303rd and to locate and evacuate all personnel on Grid 033/092. Communication channel will be Gamma-Phi-Four. As of 0340 hours, Operation Shadow Storm is go.”

There were muted footsteps of boots on metal as the units trudge up the landing ramps and into the bellies of two D77-TC dropships, named Iron Claw and Steel Wing. As Sergeant Ganzicus made it to his seat at the front of the passenger bay, the cockpit door slid open, revealing a Flight Officer. He introduced himself as Vincent, and as with every other proud pilot, gave a brief, glorious history of his bird the Steel Wing. He was dressed in the cobalt coloured fatigues of the MESU although the majority of the public often interchanged the MESU pilots with the Petty Officers of the MSND, whom wear similar dark navy clothes with similar equipment. The wiry man had a unnatural smile plastered on his face, probably the result of surgery after a firefight. Flight Officer Vincent read Ganzicus’ mind and explained promptly.
“I got this gn… gn… jaw during the midnight raid in the Valentine’s Day Massacre, a stray arrow bomb fractured the gn… gn… cockpit windscreen, taking half my face with it.” He mumbled jerkily, his mouth misfiring over the words. Ganzicus nodded and hooked his helmet on the wall peg.

A hissing sound emanated from the engines as the hydraulics hauled the landing ramp back up, momentarily covering the whole interior in a perpetual darkness before the mana lights kicked in. Everyone was strapped in on opposite sides of the dropship, secure in their restraints, helmets dangling above them. Private Dark swallowed dryly as this happened and bowed his head down, feeling post traumatic shaking in his hands. Fixing his will on his misbehaving hands, he hyperventilated softly until the shaking subsided. As his gaze returned upwards, he noticed Jason staring at him.
“What?” Dark shot venomously, in contempt at the invasive look.
“First time flying? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” Private Jason inferred incorrectly, his wings jittery in the air regulated passenger bay. Dark’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Cerebes’ teeth! You’re a fething recruit aren’t you? Ganzicus, is this man serious? We have a recruit in our blessed unit!” Dark roared in fury, struggling against his harness violently.
“Private Dark, calm down. I’ll explain this.”
Sergeant Ganzicus released his restraints and strode over to Jason, gripping the overhead rail for support as the dropship tilted suddenly, lifting off into the moonlit sky. Private Jason felt as if his soul had frozen as Ganzicus stared intimidating down at him, eyes shadowed. He could sense a war story coming up.

There was a melancholy silence in the dim interior of the Steel Wing, broken only by the serene hum of the mana drives. As the dropship swayed in the turbulence, the lights flickered, briefly illuminating Ganzicus’ sad eyes.
“Listen, seven years ago, the Wizet Corporation and its subsidiaries had just finished rigorous testing of new weapon systems and had finally decided to release the technology into the community. This, they thought, would finally ease training problems and difficulty in the overall combat against monsters. But that plan backfired, instead the people complained that the social hierarchy was being destroyed, with beginners dealing equal with long life experts. Then a few power obsessed guilds got the idea of reforming the government, a coup d’état if you will. They banded together under the name of Ordos Angel and started hoarding weapons and recruiting followers. Pretty soon they had accumulated thousands of people who were willing to bear arms against a government, which they saw as rash and unfit. Most of these were veteran warriors, magicians, bowmen and rogues who detested the ease given to amateurs. Finally Wizet was forced to act and requested a kill-team of Nexon Secret Agents to infiltrate their organisation and pinpoint their headquarters. It was located in Ossyira, the coastal stretch of Fel’Quas and preparations were made to strike a decisive blow and end the rebellion once and for all.”
“The Valentine’s Day Massacre.” Dark cited, staring vacantly into the ceiling. Ganzicus looked back and nodded solemnly before continuing.
“In the first hours of February 14th, a massive tactical invasion occurred, composed of soldiers from the divisions of Wizet, Asiasoft and Nexon. The bloody and brutal war initially lasted four days, with clean up missions taking another month as frenzied defenders stoically resisted. Over ninety thousand died in that battle. A waste of lives. A terrible waste of lives. We broke them and they scattered, never found the leaders and we suspect there are weapon caches hidden on Victoria Island. No evidence but just a gut feeling that everyone had. Those were dark days.”
“Dark days indeed.” Deena echoed dutifully, her eyes lost in memories. Private Jason absorbed the information in and his mouth opened, no words to say.
“Well now you know.” Dark muttered, “Now you know why every flight brings us an unstoppable dread, the feeling of despair – that this flight could be our last. Every sound we think: What was that? Did the engine blow? Armour pierced? Wings torn? You think we’d lost our unfounded fears but no, the Valentine’s Day flight will haunt us forever.”

Private First Class Anni cried out in boredom as the Sergeant returned to his seat. She always thought flights were boring and did everything she could to liven them up. Peering over Private Tyler’s shoulder she mouthed the words of the book he was reading.
“What’s the title?”
“Aurora’s Redemption.”
“Oh! Really? I know the ending, it’s like this, Silver –”
“NO!” Tyler burst out, mortified. “Don’t ruin the story! La-la-la! I’m not listening! La-la-la!” He continued, covering his ears. Corporal Steve smiled at the pair’s antics and slipped on his earphones to muffle the shouts. He relaxed slightly as Frontline – Pillar entered his ears, nodding his head to the beat. Anni’s interest wandered again and she began chanting the double time cadence D-77, encouraging others to join in.
“D-77 rolling down the strip
Strike Units on a one way trip
Mission top secret, destination unknown
We don’t even know if we’re ever going home
Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door
Jump right out and count to four
If my main don’t open wide
I’ve got a reserve by my side
If that one should fail too
Look out ground ‘cause I’m coming through
If I die on that old drop zone
Box me up and ship me home
Pin my medals on my chest
Bury me in the leaning rest.”
Sergeant Ganzicus could see Private Dark ease up, even joining in. Deena Ray seemed to have livened up too and she caught his gaze.
“Just like fething Val’s, isn’t it?” She commented, jerking her head in Anni’s direction.
“I was still in school back then.” Ben interjected from two seats across, between the two other non-MESU members. Flight Officer Vincent spoke through the doorway.
“Low altitude, storm’s coming in. ETA, twenty gn… gn… minutes. Mana’s good, visibility’s good. Flight path, vector six, speed at optimum.”
Ganzicus acknowledged him and nestled himself into his seat. The rhythmic gurgling of the mana coolant sending him into a light slumber, just as Anni began another cadence, When I get to heaven.
“When I get to heaven
Maple god’s going to say
‘How’d you earn your living?’
‘How’d you earn your pay?’
I’ve a reply that he will rue
I earned my living in the MESU
People saving, that’s what I do
Nothing’s too much for the MESU.”

Then – Thirty-six years ago
Kerning City

The industrial wastelands of Kerning City sprawled into the sunset sky, the fumes of chemicals and gases blurring the horizon into an indistinguishable haze. In a garbage ridden alleyway lay a huddled figure, dressed in filthy rags which barely covered his malnourished body. The child was against the wall in a foetal position, a nasty head wound becoming infected in the unhygienic environment. Darkness encroached like a stealthy assassin, sliding unnoticed through the streets, suffocating the city. Trembling with fear, the child slowly uncurled himself, whimpering in pain as his joints scrapped painfully against one another. His stomach complained as he struggled agonizingly through the lanes, every now and then coughing up discoloured blood. He had no recollection of how he arrived there, no clue to where he had come from. The only memory he had in his head besides pain was his name – Ganzicus.

Suddenly the beams of intense light painted the child and he dropped the ground instinctively. Then the lights died out, replaced by two smaller rays which panned the street. Ganzicus still did not move, eyes shut and breathing shallowly. There were crunches of shoes on gravel and he could sense two figures bearing down on him. When they did not attack, he opened his eyes curiously and looked up. Positioned over him were two people dressed in khaki uniform, with sashes of red. The woman crouched down and sighed pitifully.
“Gosh, look at him. He must have been here for a week at least. Sean, call base, we’ve got another one.” She muttered, her pretty face disarming the child. The man in question flicked his torch around and headed back to the vehicle, reporting back to base.
“This is patrol Romeo-Sierra One, we’ve got a ten-ninety in Oakes Road. Bringing him in now.”
Meanwhile, the woman was still smiling at him. Ganzicus reached out a tentative arm.
“Hey, I’m Rebecca, what’s your name? Don’t worry, we’re here to help you.”
“Ganzicus.” He whispered through cracked lips. From that moment on, he somehow knew that everything was going to be better. They gave him water and injected medicinal concoctions in his arm before putting him into the back of their cruiser. In the follow years Ganzicus was brought up in the Maple Welfare Administration Service, under the foster care of Rebecca Reid and Sean Tao.

There was a grinding squeal that rocked the Steel Wing, stunning all the occupants, shaking Sergeant Ganzicus awake. An alarm klaxon sounded, followed by a rushing sound as mana was diverted into the shields. Ganzicus whipped his head around to the cockpit.
“We’re under attack, we can see Grid 033/092 up ahead, maybe a kilometre gn… gn… away. Hostile is originating from there.” Flight Officer Vincent explained, wrestling with the controls as another impact rocked the dropship. Deena moaned in terror, past events tormenting her head.
“It could be the MSND, start communications! Gamma-Phi-Four! Gamma-Phi-Four!” Ganzicus ordered, releasing his restraints, heading into the cockpit. The dropship itself was equipped with a larger version of the microbead, used for short ranged ship to ship contact. He keyed in the channel and began yelling.
“Maple Special Navy Detachment! This is Maple Elite Strike Unit Lambda! Cease fire, you are hitting friendlies! I repeat, cease fire! Friendlies are inbound, cease fire damn it!” He barked into the communicator, receiving no reply. Suddenly the voices of Zeta Unit broke in.
“Feth, Sergeant! Sergeant we’re taking heavy hits – Shut up Private – What do we do? Ceberes’ teeth I’m to young to die! I’m to –”
“Lambda Unit, requesting help! Argh! What in the Dark Lord’s name was –”
“Mayday, mayday, this is Flight Officer Raymond, engines two, three, four are down, I repeat –”
“Son of a bain, not my guts, Dark Lord, not my fething guts. Medic –”
“Sergeant, we – Gah! Lucida’s tail, keep the pressure on the wound, Sir we –”
“Mayday, mayday, main mana generator is shot, it’s going to blow –”

Suddenly there was a bright flare of blue light that blinded Ganzicus. Staring out the window he saw the immolating form that was Iron Claw unnaturally accelerate, leaving a mana trail streaking behind it. The attacker from the research facility kept tracking the flaming bird, explosions glancing off its armoured wings. Whether by choice or not, the dropship soared upwards before faltering and slamming into the upper levels of the research station, which arrested its flight. The mana fires subsided and soon the Iron Claw disappeared from sight, assimilated into the research station. There was not any reprise as the attacker started focusing its attention on their dropship, intent on bring it down as well.

On the landing pad of the research station, Petty Officer Naz gripped the Mk 19’s trigger, pumping out grenade shells at the oncoming ship. At first he thought it was the MESU reinforcements, as promised by the Logistics Authority. His hopes were dashed as they did not respond to his requests for identification, a fact further proven due to the low flight path, making it more likely to be a sprint trader. Right now one of the intruding ships had somehow ascended and crashed into the station itself, leaving one left about half a kilometre away. Naz gritted his teeth as the recoil of the weapon shook his body. He had not heard from Lieutenant Gemina for over an hour, an dared not disobey orders by leaving his post. His instructions were simple: Lead the MESUs when they arrived and blow away everything else.

Sergeant Ganzicus stumbled across the bay and pointed to the two designated marksmen of his squad, both hired muscle. The D77-TC dropship had no defences of its own and so it fell to the squad inside to defend itself. Although the dropship had no forward access point, it did have two fire points on the sides of the ship, exactly for this purpose.
“Fenrir, Fuji, nail those son of a bains so we can land!” He ordered before yanking a lever which opened the left side fire point. There was a warning alarm which sounded but was washed out by the still blaring klaxon, the cabin was decompressed and everything that was not tied down was tossed wildly into the air. The two rivals released their restraints and clipped themselves onto the overhead rail, leaning out the side of the dropship.
“Fuji, a grand says I bag them before you can.” Fenrir yelled over the rushing wind, shouldering his Barrett M107 sniper rifle and racking the slide. Fuji grinned and raised his own sniper rifle, a Remington Model 700.
“You’re on. I say its three seventy four.”
“Wrong, there’s crosswind, that would make it four plus.”
“I factored in crosswind you leatty fodder. Three seventy four.”

Petty Officer Naz flinched as the first large calibre round punched through the frigid air, surprised at the retaliation. Professionally, he stood his ground and adjusted the trajectory of the grenade launcher, waiting for the tell tale muzzle flash. As the second shot warbled dangerously close to him, he depressed the trigger and let loose with the high explosive rounds. Then the one sound made his blood run cold.
Click-click-click-click-click
No ammo.
Swearing, he dropped low to minimize the target available to the gunmen and crawled a few metres to the boxes of spare rounds. This action saved his life as a third shot punched right through the Mk 19 itself. Swearing again, Naz starting to draw his service handgun but stopped as he rationalized the range of the target. Instead he crouch ran away from the useless grenade launcher and away from his beloved dropship, to the other side of the platform.

Fenrir lined up another shot from the fire point and tried to steady his aim as the dropship turned slowly to allow the two marksmen to fire properly. The poor lighting conditions did not help either, too dark for good aiming, too light for night vision. A shot rang out as Fuji fired, the spent casing flicking across Fenrir’s vision. Fuji must have hit a power generator or something because there was a flare of energy or light that blanked out the landing pad altogether. Debris splashed silently into the water, a unusually large object, perhaps a ship, slammed into the water with a reverberating thud, sending up a geyser of white froth. Fenrir scanned the aftermath with his scope, nothing was moving.
“Target eliminated.” Fuji announced coldly, ejecting the spent clip from his rifle.

_______________________________________________

Diamond Class Clearance: Glossary

Feth– Acronym which stands for: For everything that’s holy. Used commonly as an expletive.

FEAR Prologue: Ambient Wonder
FEAR Chapter One: Trace Amounts
FEAR Chapter Two: Opening Suite
FEAR Chapter Three: Dust and Echoes
FEAR Chapter Four: Perchance to Dream