Ivanov Island, Project Nexus: Artemis

"The lab went dark a few weeks ago. We haven't heard from anyone; not through official channels or otherwise. Our goal is to make contact and see what we're dealing with."

She swept her eyes over the assembled people. Apollo didn't need to be told what they were going to be doing; he'd known from the moment she had. Her words were solely for the other two heavily armed people in front of her. Powell and Calder. She had no doubts as to their skill; if they were sent along with her for this, they'd clearly more than proved themselves. But if she was honest, she knew their true purpose. They were cannon fodder if things got rough. The shuttle jolted and she shifted on the bench before resuming talking.

"If things have gone to hell down there, we secure whatever data we can and purge the place. Survivors are not a priority. Am I clear?"

A succession of crisp nods greeted her orders and she almost smiled. No hesitation; that was what she liked to see. Considering that this was the only operation Father had dealt with personally since Project Nexus, it was probable that it would even be needed.

Wright's voice rang out from the cockpit, "We're nearing the destination. Three minutes 'til touchdown. Defenses are still up, but nothing that we'll trigger. Attempts at contact have not been reciprocated."

"Understood. Notify us if anything changes."

Pointless to remind the man. He'd been piloting shuttles for things like this for years. She slid her helmet on, signaling for the rest to follow suit, and did a last minute check of her shotgun, then leaned back into the wall of the shuttle as the familiar floaty feeling appeared in her stomach at the descent.

The shuttle settled itself onto the bright red markings of the landing pad, and the door slid open smoothly. Rain pelted down, trickling off the trees and vines, lending the black of their armor and the white of the lab a slick sheen. The whole place was eerily quiet; aside from the heavy hum of the shuttle and the patter of the rain, silence reigned. They approached the main doors, security reading their suit signatures and unlocking once their clearance levels were confirmed. Some level of power was still on, then. Good. That would make navigating the place a lot less tedious. Things tended to take a great deal longer when you had to stop and find a way to get every single door open, or avoid every precaution that had been taken against interlopers.

The entry room was empty; one of many clear signs that something was wrong. A cup of coffee rested cold and stagnant on a desk, the chair a fair distance away, but still standing. Someone had gotten up in a hurry. The computer was still on, but a cursory examination provided no new information. It was only used for menial tasks; if they were going to find out anything, logic dictated that it would be deeper inside the facility. Brief flickers of irritation touched her mind. Apollo didn't like this any more than she did; going in blind was no one's idea of fun.

"We're going to take this in teams of two, everybody. If we do need to purge this place, that'll mean clearing the blast zone quickly and making it back to the shuttle. We can't risk losing the data because we got didn't move our asses quick enough. Apollo. Take Powell and see if you can't make it to the kill switch. Calder and I will retrieve the data. Maintain radio silence; until we know what's going on, we can't risk someone listening in. Go."

From what little she did know of the place, the main data hub and the kill switch that came standard with every major operation were kept purposely far away from each other. Theoretically, there would be enough time between activating the purge and the actual blast for everyone to make it out unscathed, but setting the data hub a bit further away allowed for some extra time. If things went well, she wouldn't have to rely on that too much. But this was life; if something had a chance to bite them in the ass, she could be sure it would chomp down and refuse to let go. Always better to assume the worst would happen. Then you might have a working plan rather than flailing and getting yourself killed. Common sense, really.

She and Calder slipped through the door on the far right side while Apollo and Powell took the left side. The hallway was just as empty, the glass windows allowing an unpromising view into the rooms that lined the side. Chairs were pushed out, some overturned. People had left in a hurry. Recognition filtered through her senses; Apollo was seeing the same thing. Different rooms, different layouts...it still suggested the same thing. A thought pierced her mind, as crystal clear as if it were her own.

They were running from something.

We had good security here. Whatever it is, it must have come from inside the facility.

Pictures of betrayal filled her mind; a scientist losing sight of the end goal, beginning a coup. A turncoat in their ranks allowing mercenaries into the facility, stealing away all that they'd been working on. The images vanished as quickly as they had appeared, dismissed. A coup would have been put down or heard about; a turncoat wouldn't account for missing staff.

Something from the inside...it was a question with an answer that neither of them liked.

Apollo's thoughts broke away, the musing turning from full-fledged words and sentences to the sudden synchronized ideas and vague emotions that they were both more comfortable with. The corridor opened up into another room, and their suspicions were immediately confirmed. Whatever had done this was not human. Dried smears of blood were drawn in long streaks against the white of the tile, leading in a macabre trail to what little remained of a person. The body had been torn apart; the arms were gone, as was the head and a leg.

Apollo's path was still empty. He held his gun a bit more readily at the scene before his sister's eyes.

"A purge is going to be necessary, ma'am."

"Unfortunately," she muttered in reply to Calder, and crouched by the corpse. There was little she could find to truly enlighten her, considering the state of the remains. She frowned suddenly, noting an oddity. The ribcage had been pushed up and cracked wide; it almost gave the appearance of an open gate leading to a home, if the home was a gaping hole in someone's chest.

"We need to hurry. The only way I want to disturb whatever's here is with a big fucking bomb."

She pulled up from her crouch, hefted her shotgun once again, and began her way forward, Calder following warily behind her.


Reviews are always more than welcome, of course.