AN: Hello to one and All. This is an Infinite Warfare Fanfic as you will find out. I have posted this to story to both Wattpad and Achieve of Our Own, so if looks familiar to any of you-it is. I just post the same story to different sites to get a variety of feedback.
Any ways, I hope you all enjoy the story. Feel free to message me or post comments if you need an explanation.
Salen's walk was briskly as he made his way the conference room. He seemed he was in a hurry, as his stride was wide and quick, preferring not to keep the others waiting. He had summoned by high council, for what he did not know. Perhaps for a debrief on their operation Europa, of their success, and of how the newest addition to the 8th Orbital had faired in the fight over the moon's icy surface. He smiled to himself as the battle was replayed in his mind. It had been quick, the forces at the bases had put up little resistance. It was better that way, they didn't have to waste so many bullets. Even with the Front's infinite resources, bullets were still a precious commodity. He hadn't been the least bit surprised when radar had picked up on the Raven with a few sorry souls onboard. He was almost offended at the small team sent in to secure the prototype. But, he knew better than to underestimate the small team.
The halls were moderately populated with various members of the Front's armed forces. Many gathered at the windows to watch the procession with boundless optimism and pride. He smirked as each person he passed quickly snapped to the position of the attention and saluted him. He returned the salute with one arm behind his back. The large windows provided a sweeping view of the Capital below and the red sand landscape beyond to the south. The building was near the lip of the Valles Mariner Trench, giving him or any beholder a view of the rest of the city below. It made Salen beam with pride whenever he could observe the city from up high. He knew it fed his ego as his puffed out some but was carefully to keep it in check. Even here on Mars, pride was sin that could kill if on wasn't careful. The windows themselves were the same they deployed on all of their warships, transports, and skelters. It was resistant to cracks and took some force to shatter them.
The walls were made with reenforced steel and concrete and had several layers of lead to keep out the high amounts of radiation the sun put out. Inside, the walls are lined with a metal hard enough withstand a direct hit a fighter but light enough that I wouldn't crumbled the foundation. It was a hard balance. The floors were made of low-maintenance linoleum, though it looked high end due to constant cleaning the workers ensured. It was hard keeping out all the red sand and dust that was tracked in, despite all the different places-both outside and inside-where one could pounding the dust out of the treads of their shoes and shake from their clothes. Floor buffers were run over the floor several times a day to keep them polished and looking new. The Council was meticulous about the building being clean, he didn't know why other than to keep up with appearances and to give the labor something to do other than being resource leaches. Above him, the air filtration system kicked into overdrive, hard at working stripping the air of Carbon dioxide that would suffocate their lungs given the chance and leaving only the nitrogen-oxygen mixture they could survive on. They didn't live in a "dome city" like in the disgustingly romanticized in Earthen films, they merely had a section of their entryway to depressurize. It was simpler and didn't strain on their resources.
Outside, skelters zipped by the building in regular intervals during patrol runs, their engines warping the windows with its thunderous vibration as they made sure that if there was an attack on the Martian Capital, the State building would be protected long enough to get High Command and High Council out and far enough to safety. The celebration of the end of the Great War continued as more and more of their warships floated over the city, each of them announced in quick succession. Their fleets were twice the size of Earth's it was a point pride within the SDF and its colonies. They knew if war broke out-as they had prepared for since the ending of the Succession Wars-they would easily crush their enemy.
Salen continued his way to the end of the corridor, his steps wide and sure. He carried himself like a man that owned the world-no, the system.
'As it should be.' he thought to himself. The conference room was situated at the end of the corridor, the door positioned next to another floor to ceiling window. Outside the door, stood two soldiers and he could clearly make out the black Intracore uniform and patch. This must be a serious matter if Intracore members were standing guard and could quite possibly mean that Derhachov was waiting inside. Their uniforms were all black and based off the overall design of every unit. But, they weren't as bulky, allowing them to move about quietly and quicker without it getting caught on something or restricting their movements. They were always armed with a primary, two secondaries, and several other weapons. Like all units they had a patch, but where other units had inspired courage and pride, Intracore's inspired fear and compliance. Their patch was circular and black like the rest of their uniform but was lined with a deep red trim to distinguish it from the rest of the uniform. Their crest had the SDF's seal in the middle with a combat knife going through the top and coming out the middle. The design was similar to Earth's British SAS except there was no banner with the motto floating around the knife. Instead the motto-faciam quodlibet quod nemeses est-ringed the inside edges of the trim.
They were meant to keep those in line that would see to fracture themselves from the regime and-in times of war-acted as shadow warriors. They were easily the most feared and less known of any of the Front's battleforces. They did not hesitate to use brute force when necessary and techniques that the foolish Earthlings would cry "Crimes Against Humanity" against. For Intracore, if what they were doing yielded results and helped to further Mars, then they would do it. There was no line for them to cross because they had crossed it at its conception nearly thirty years ago. The small group was well versed in interrogation tactics and did whatever it took to deter those under the regime from defecting or causing trouble. They were the dark cloud that fell over the city and the figure that clung to the shadows. No one wanted to come to face to face with any of its members. Doing so, was looking Death in the eyes. Even an man into his thirties and the Admiral of the Front's largest fleet, he still found them intimidating. The two stationed at the door did nothing to acknowledge him and stood still as statues. But, he could feel their analyzing gaze, testing to see even if he, one of the most loyal members of the regime would step even a millimeter out of line. Salen knew they looked for every chance to put their training to good use, even on him.
He turned the door's cold metal knob and pushed the door open to the conference for him at the other end of the room was the High Council and several key members of the Intracore leadership. The conference room was like other parts of the building. The walls were made of the same metal and durable windows. Shutters were built into the windows' frame to provide privacy or protection in the event of a strike. The room was also insulated so anyone not authorized could not listen in on the meeting for information or gauge for who was in attendance. On the opposite side of the room from Salen was a screen that took up most the wall, meant to video in anyone that couldn't make the meeting in person. On either side of the screen were The Front's national flag and guidon for Intracore. In the middle of the room, was a long dark metal table with chairs lined on either side and at both ends of the table. The chairs were made of the same dark metal as the table and bad a thin cushion on the seat and on the back rest. It was comfortable, but it made sitting in them for long periods of time bearable. But, to the Front, being too comfortable lead to complacency, and complacency lead to failure. That was something they could not stand for. They were the rightful rulers of the sol system and failure was not an option. In the middle of the table was a speaker system that allowed for anyone to call in and on either end were trays with glasses of water.
Emeritus Aaron Thesis called him over to where the others were gathered. It only took three long and confident strides to reach the group. Everyone in the group was dressed in their dress uniform and decked out in full regalia. When Salen reached the group, Thesis asked for a report on Europa. He gave them the breakdown: UNSA Black Site was looted of all intel and prototypes including blueprints for the F-SpAr Cannon. Any resistance by the UNSA stationed there as well as the SCAR team sent to destroy the prototype were defeated.
"The cannon is being replicated and attached to the Olympus Mons on our base on Enceladus as we speak." Salen informed.
"Replicated?" Emeritus Fahir Emin asked as he raised an eyebrow. Salen nodded.
"A three man team from the UNSA's SCAR unit infiltrated the black site and destroyed the prototype." he said. "But, not before we acquired the blueprints. They were immediately sent to Eurion." Salen also tells them code RIAH is being put into action. Emeritus' all nod their heads in unison. Salen looked over to Vice Admiral Derhachov with his eyes patch sharp face. He asks why he is there. Derhachov pressed a button on the table and brought up a photo. He glared at the picture. It wasn't from their file but the UNSA's. It was official looking, possibly for a personnel file or ID card. The subject was in the SATO flight suit, the hard plastic chest piece with the SATO logo printed dead center over her heart. Peaking out on her left arm, was the SCAR patch-the UNSA's special forces. Salen did take satisfaction in the amount scars that littered her right side of her face and the cloudy appearance of her eye. He turned to survey the men before him as they issued him the target. Her photo has been issue to every soldier taking part in operation from C6s to skelter pilots and even the cannon crews. She was a target, second only to acquiring the AATIS Guns and destroying Earth's Fleet and she was to be captured alive, though not unharmed.
"A small squad of Intracore members will be the ones to capture her." Derhachov informed him. "The photo's distribution is alert our forces to be on the look out for her and report her location to the team. Once she is captured, she will transported to the Olympus Mons when you make the jump and take straight to Mars for interrogation." Salen walked up to the screen and studied the photo in disgust. He felt it inside him that they would finally have her, after all of the injustices and treason she committed. He felt someone walked up behind and glanced over his shoulder. He found his father, the head of the High Council, standing behind him.
"We want her alive, Salen." he warned. Salen turned around fully to face him and nodded a confirmation. Salen told him they would get her. His father told he needs to as the only way the UNSA will succeed is if she is still with them. Salen nodded again. He spared one more glance at the photo before saluting and leaving the room.