DISCLAIMER:
Though I have a great amount of affection for the people and places mentioned in this story, I own the rights to only a few of them. The series Terra Nova and all that is included under its banner are owned by FOX, and the talented writers that created it.
=)
Author's Note
Well, hallo again! If you're here and you haven't read After the Occupation, you're welcome to stay, but you might be a tad confused.
If you're here after After the Occupation .. well, nice. You're really committed, aren't you?!
I never meant to write another story after the last one, but ideas just kept popping into my head, and .. to be honest, I really missed it. I missed the writing, I missed the characters. I don't know how often I'll be updating this one, but at least it gives you a glimpse of where my train of thought was headed after the end of the last story. Hope to see you back here again some time! Who knows where the story may take us!
- George DeWhite
Terra Nova
Into the
Eye of the Storm
Prologue
"And then he just materialised in front of me, like some sort of phoenix rising from the ashes-"
The older man almost spat his water back into the canteen at his lips. He lowered it carefully, shook his head and swallowed, casting a laughing glance at his fellow soldier.
"I dunno, Crawson, you always have the weirdest dreams."
"What do you think it means?"
Crawson's companion leaned on his makeshift staff and looked the younger man in the eye.
"Frankly, I think it means you're getting too much sun." He tossed the canteen sideways. "Here. Drink more, think less."
Crawson snorted as he caught the canteen.
".. thanks."
As he raised it, his eyes caught sight of an odd shape some distance away, slowly moving towards them from just below the outer rim. He squinted, the forgotten canteen paused in mid-air halfway to his mouth.
"What's that?"
The other Phoenix soldier adjusted his position on the staff and followed his companion's gaze. After a few seconds, the tolerant smile fell from his face and he straightened.
"Don't know, but it's coming this way. Get ready."
He pulled the rifle hanging over his back to the front and positioned it defensively as his fellow soldier did the same. It hadn't rained for months (not that they'd been expecting it - rain was an extremely rare occurrence here. Up until recently, they'd been inclined to believe it wasn't possible), and a dreadful haze had settled down on the dust bowl they had been living in. The rocky terrain seemed to shift and ripple in front of their eyes. The Badlands were always warm, but with summer had come an unrelenting heat that threatened to sear the backs off the men that were forced to remain there.
The Phoenix soldiers were getting restless. Since the Sixers had walked out on them in late spring, their numbers had almost halved. Without Mira's crew around, they had been forced to procure food for themselves, and hunting far from camp was both frustrating and dangerous. The men had slowly learned, but not before many of them had become gruesome object lessons for their peers. Water was scarce, medicines almost non-existent. They had come to fear sickness almost as much as outside predators. Secretly, many of the inner circle that remained were beginning to wonder why they had. By setting themselves up against Mira, they appeared to have condemned themselves to death in one way or another. How much longer could they go on?
Still the dark shape hovered nearer.
As it approached, they were able to make out three people in a triangle formation. The figure at the front - the leader, they assumed - was somewhat smaller than the others. The two men at the back were wearing a uniform not so different from their own. The Phoenix soldiers shot each other a hesitant glance as the figures approached the tent. The leader stopped in front of them with folded arms.
"Where's your commanding officer?"
The voice was obviously female. Despite the linen scarf covering her mouth and nose, her speech was surprisingly clear. The men exchanged another look and the older soldier leaned on his stick again, studying her closely.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?"
"Both valid questions, but I'm the one doing the asking."
Crawson's eyes moved behind her to rest on the two men who hadn't said a word. They appeared to be listening respectfully. The woman tried again.
"Where's Hooper?"
The Phoenix soldiers glanced back at the tent behind them before returning her gaze.
"He's not .. here."
The woman frowned, her short blonde hair looking as wind-blown and dusty as if someone had swept the floor with her.
"Then where is he?"
"Look, how did you say you got here?"
The soldiers guarding the tent were growing more suspicious. Several other men, having heard the strange voices, had gathered nearby from various other parts of the camp.
"Not important. Not yet anyway."
The woman glanced around at the confused faces and pulled her scarf down to rest under her chin. Smiling slightly, she returned her gaze to the men directly in front of her.
"In answer to your first question, we're the reinforcements. I hear you boys have gotten yourselves into quite a pickle."