IRAN – 20 miles outside Bandar Abbas – June 12th 2047 - 1700 HOURS

Rebel Encampment

The sand and wind continued their growing assault by the minute. Any longer in this desert, and they would be cut off not only from airlift, but they would also be susceptible to the radiation that was coming in with the sandstorm. The city was still twenty or so miles away, but at the pace the storm was coming in, it would be on them in no less than fifteen minutes. Many storms were in the area due to the climate shift from countless nuclear weapons dropped on the cities almost fourteen years prior. Although they could track the radiation spots and the UEG themselves had developed a net made up of particles to keep the radiation spots from moving, they still couldn't prevent it entirely.

Making her way to the command tent, she watched as a towering giant shouted his orders for his men to keep packing. From what she could tell, he was an older man in his forties, perhaps even early fifties. Most likely a veteran of the war by the way he issued his commands with his eyes always scanning out.

"Come on, move it faster men! That's the last load. We don't want to be caught out here a moment longer. You fall behind, you'll be left behind." His voice bellowed across the compound as the wind carried it.

She kept her head low and trudged on till she saw McAllister waiting at the tent opening. She knew he was smiling beneath his scarf. He always smiled when he saw her. A gust of wind picked up, and a few crates came loose from their straps as they were being pushed onto the Air Copter.

"GET DOWN!" came the booming echo of the veteran's voice as the crate was picked up and thrown through the air like a leaf. She turned just in time to dodge the crate as it barrelled towards her at speed. She heard McAllister call out her name, but by then she had steadied her balance and leapt to the side as the crate crashed into another tent.

She brushed her hood back, and her blonde hair whipped aggressively against her sand-covered face. Turning, she saw a McAllister's hand offering to help her up, but she ignored it.

"Another close call for you Ella," McAllister shouted over the wind's vicious howling. "Even Mother Nature seems to want you dead. Still, can't be any worse than the UEG," he chuckled, but Ella just remained quiet and pulled her hood back over her head. Above the howl she could hear the veteran yell obscenities at his men.

Ella pushed past McAllister, and he followed after her. Ella was surprisingly taller than him by a few inches, but where he was broad and wide, she was athletically built, with strong arms and legs from rigorous workout routines. She was all speed and agility and could outlast anyone for stamina in Red Army Division, or R.A.D. as it was more commonly known.

She'd joined up with them nearly twenty months ago after her former command had been wiped out by UEG Forces becoming only one of seven survivors to be captured and transported for questioning. The UEG called it Indoctrination. Heroes and people of the Rebel army and free cities that were captured would be imprisoned for a time and then Indoctrinated into UEG society if they were deemed acceptable. They were then fed daily propaganda of the "wonderful" and "magnificent" life they could have if they joined the UEG.

If only their own people knew the truth. Then they might win this god-forsaken struggle.

Indoctrination was nothing more than advanced interrogation where prisoners were tortured until they revealed information against the Rebels. Luckily for Ella, she escaped the transport ship while also destroying a major communications post that caused disruption to the Eastern block of Europe. A small victory, but enough for her deeds to be recognised by the High Command. She was then transferred up the ladder to the R.A.D.

Ella stopped at the tent door, allowing McAllister to enter first. "Ella is back Sir," he said in a crisp cut tone, standing at attention. Ella removed her hood and threw the left side of her poncho over her shoulder. A Mk II Phaser pistol was strapped to her thigh with another mirroring it on her opposite thigh. Her attire was a mix of tight-fitted clothing covered with light metal armour to protect her vital points. She always kept her weapons off safety, which typically set others on edge. Not because she was distrustful necessarily, just secretive and lonely.

"Ella," Commander Samuel Keith nodded at her. She returned the gesture. "Report."

Ella lifted her goggles revealing her clear, brown eyes. Her face was still a muck with sand and her hair was out of place, but her eyes. They were the only thing pure on her face, which always gave her an uncharacteristically radiant kind of beauty. McAllister just stood there a moment in silence, lost in awe as always.

"Nothing on the coast, we're still clear. I planted the decoys, so it will look like a heavy transport is running through the desert to the east," she said softly, drawing everyone's attention to the 3D map in front of them. "The UEG still have their carrier group in the Strait, but the decoys will attract their attention. Once they launch their fighters, we'll use the distraction to move southwest and meet up with the ship that will transport us back to Oman. From there we cross into the Arab Emirates and to the city. These new weapons will help us in our cause." Ella finished her report and took a step back.

She watched as Samuel and his officers murmured in agreement. "Well done, Ella. You've proved a valuable asset to us, and you'll be glad to know that our time has come. This is the last shipment of weapons to be delivered, and once they are, then we'll be ready."

A cheer erupted in the room as Ella attempted to hide her surprise. "I thought this was the first shipment, Sir?" she questioned. Samuel looked to McAllister, seeking permission to fill her in.

"Ella, we were the last. For us to stay safe and our plans to remain secret, all Divisions were told their shipment was the first. It was only known by the Division Commander and his officers what the actual order number of their shipment was." He softened his tone as he apologised.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Sir," she fired back at Commander Keith, her voice finally breaking from the hours out in the sandstorm. "I was led on a ruse and treated as an outsider. Have I not already sacrificed enough here?"

"We'll talk about this when we're back in the city, Ella. Now is…"

Suddenly, the sound of an Airship breaking through the storm could be heard along with pulse rifles off in the distance. "It's the UEG! They've found us," McAllister yelled, grabbing his sidearm. "How'd they find us?"

Before any of them could react, Ella had already retrieved her pistol from her right thigh. It had been strategically hidden beneath her poncho so no one would notice until it was too late. She fired two quick rounds into Samuel, who was thrown back across the tent, crashing into his wine cabinet.

The second in command fell next as she whipped the right side of her poncho clear and fired multiple rounds, killing two additional officers in the process. Still McAllister and another remained, but soon the guards outside came rushing in behind her. Before they could register what was happening, she fired her left sidearm, shooting McAllister in the shoulder, making him drop his weapon. Spinning on her heels in one fluid motion, she brought both pistols to bear on each guard and shot them both.

The last remaining officer somehow managed to draw his weapon even despite his frantic panic and fired at Ella. Dropping to a knee behind the table, she returned fire, clipping him in the knee. As he dropped in pain, she fired again to finish him off.

Ella scanned the room for any remaining threats. There were none, but McAllister was rolling on the ground clutching the burning, neat hole in his shoulder. Keeping her sidearm trained on her target, she stood over him and placed a boot on his chest.

"UEG bitch," he spat at her. She only smiled as she leaned down towards him.

"A ROGUE bitch," she whispered with a smirk as she saw the fear creep into his eyes, his face growing pale in horror.

1720 HOURS

Ella was still dressed in all her gear as the Airship flew through the sandstorm. She glanced around at the Special Ops Hunter Squad that joined her. There were seven men clad in rusty black armour with reflective black helmets and visors to protect and hide their identities. Hunter Squads were assigned to all ROGUE Operatives as their back-up and muscle and were partly responsible for establishing them as the most feared force in the UEG. It was very rare that anyone survived when they attacked or raided camps and strongholds.

McAllister could count himself lucky.

He sat in the back of the airlift handcuffed and hooded, an electric shocker strapped to his ankles to make sure he behaved himself in flight. Once they landed on the carrier, they would begin interrogation.

Ella stood by the door and looked out the window. All she could see was sand, but the monotonous scenery was better than trying to talk. No one talked. Ever. Still, McAllister was her prisoner, and despite protocol, she was not in the mood to go back to the carrier group, especially with such a high valued prisoner. He could offer them insight on what the Rebels were planning along with where all the weapon shipments had gone. Ella's gut knew that something big was going down. She'd been a ROGUE class Operative for nearly three and half years now, and in that time, most things the Rebels had resorted to were attacks on the border outposts and raiding classified transports, bases and convoys. The terror groups were hunted down by other Agents, and Spec Ops would operate mostly against The Empire or provide close security.

Only on rare occasions would they clash together, and ROGUES would get final choice in the matter; a decision most hated. Probably because they couldn't make the cut to be a ROGUE in the first place. When they'd left the compound she'd been working undercover in, Ella had requested that the prisoner be brought back to Sky Command, and she was still awaiting the pilot to inform her if she would get access.

"Ma'am," the pilot spoke over the intercom. Ella made her way up to the cockpit. "Ma'am I have Sky Command on the comm."

"S Command, this is the Chameleon," she stated. "I have an HVT in my custody. I'm inbound to Carrier Group Delta One. Request permission to deviate."

"Permission denied, Chameleon," came the curt reply. "Proceed with HVT to Delta One and interrogate there. S Command access is OB."

"Sir, with respect, we have a Code RD1. I again request permission to come aboard," she pressed, growing increasingly frustrated at the stupid bureaucratic security procedures. There was a few moments of silence, but the comm crackled once again.

"Permission granted. Proceed to forty thousand feet."

"Roger that." Ella passed the comm back to the pilot. "Proceed to forty thousand feet,' she said, tapping his shoulder before heading back to the squad. "Strap in boys, we're going up."

The squad hooked themselves in, and Ella fastened herself to her seat. The pilot gave the last minute warning as the airship tilted vertically and the boosters blasted them straight up. Ella looked out the window, and in a few seconds the sand gave way to a clear blue sky. A few more seconds passed and she could move her muscles again as the airship levelled off. Just as she unclipped her straps, she saw Sky Command come into view.

Sky Command, or S Command, was a floating Air Carrier fortress, which looked like something straight out of a Sci-Fi movie. It could hold ten thousand personal, mobile, and armoured infantry; an entire air strike force; and thousands of troops. Only one of three built.

Delta One was stationed over the Middle East and Africa, Delta two over Europe, and Delta three was the home base that protected the states. The only structure larger than the S Commands was The Citadel. Little was known of where and what it was, but it was rumoured to house most of the UEG defence forces, all the Cabinet heads, and a few extra persons that had secured their spots through obscene levels of wealth.

The airship landed on the deck, and the squad jumped out in formation, always ready to go regardless if they were on friendly turf. Ella pushed McAllister out ahead of her and gripped him tight around the arm as the deck officer came towards them with a marine escort. Ella was more interested in the Special Ops officer that accompanied them, however. Zachary Goode. She couldn't help but notice that he hadn't changed since their last meeting.

"Agent, we'll take the prisoner from here," the deck officer stated, and she reluctantly let them take McAllister. Her eyes never left Zach's as she ordered her squad to go along with the prisoner, following the deck officer and Zach inside. It was warm and smelled fresh. Different than what she was used to. She'd almost forgotten that lovely smells even existed.

"Agent, I must ask that you remove your clothes before entering the chamber. We need to hose you down for radiation and chemicals." Ella nodded and waited for them both to move on. When she was alone, she unrobed quickly and stepped into the chamber. When the radiation chemicals sprayed her body, she tensed from the cold chill, still a little anxious about her appearance. It had been a long time since she'd had her last shower, and she couldn't help but cover her delicate spots in shy embarrassment.

"Arms out wide. Keep your legs apart. Remain still as you are desensitised," the female A.I. voice commanded her. Ella huffed and did as it asked. When she reached the end of the chamber, a robotic arm handed her a light blue robe to replace her old clothes that had already been tossed into a furnace.

"Step on to the sensor pad to be identified." Again, Ella did as she was instructed, allowing the system to complete its scan. Zach silently entered the room, his eyes scanning her as well. He remained quiet as the identification process completed.

"Scan complete. Identification verified. Welcome aboard, Agent Cameron Morgan"

1800 HOURS – Sky Command – Dormitory

Cameron stood in the shower, allowing the hot water to soothe and massage her skin. She shut her eyes and leaned against the cool wall, her thoughts drifting over everything but focusing on the theories that might explain the how, why and what the Rebels were planning. She hadn't even realized how much her forehead must have creased in thought until she moved to wash her hair again. Her forehead hurt. Her brain hurt. Her body hurt.

Heaving a sigh, she gurgled some water before spitting it out. Most of the sand and dirt was gone now, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of being constantly filthy. The minutes continued to tick by, and she knew she'd lost track of how long she'd been in the shower, but she didn't care. She needed this. It had been so long, and she was tired.

Her thoughts drifted again as she shut her eyes. She saw faces. Friendly not hostile. They were familiar, but she couldn't put names to them. Like some long forgotten memory. Perhaps they weren't even real. Perhaps she never had friends.

"No," she whispered to herself. "There's Zach. He's my friend. He's always been there for me." His image appeared in her thoughts, and a new mood settled in that comforted her. "Hi, Zach." Cammie chuckled softly, speaking to the image of Zach in her mind.

Cammie finally managed to finish the shower, drying herself with a preferred towel instead of using the auto body dryer. She was so used to not having the technology available for everything. Tossing the towel on the double bed, she ignored putting on anything heavy and dressed in a comfortable black tank top, underwear, and army issued PT tracksuit bottoms. Tying her hair into a ponytail, she smiled, glad to have her natural light brown hair colour again. Just as she collapsed onto the bed, more than ready for a few hours' sleep, her room's A.I disturbed her.

"Agent Morgan, Major Goode is requesting access to your dorm. Shall I comply?"

"Let him in," Cammie croaked. As she sat up and rested on the edge of the bed, her bare feet tickled against the carpet. She watched her door slide open with a faint hiss as Zach stepped in. She felt a new warmth surge through her as he stood at the entrance, leaning against the wall. As usual, he was dressed in uniform, the attire crisp as ever. Not a single crease anywhere. He was perfect.

"Major?" Cammie questioned softly. "Is my prisoner ready for interrogation?"

Zach merely smirked. "Always work with you, Cammie." He watched as her hands fell to her thighs, her gaze dropping from his. "Sorry, Cammie. I didn't mean it like that." He walked towards the edge of her bed.

"It's ok, Zach. You're right." Her voice was hoarse and crooked. Gone was the sweetness that Zach remembered from their days at Gallagher Academy. It pained him to think of what she had to go through every day to protect innocent people. She finally looked back up at him. "I missed you, Zach."

He nodded in agreement. "I missed you too, Cammie." He swallowed hard and looked away until he could compose himself again. "Were you hurt? Did they hurt you?" he questioned, his tone dark but caring. Cammie shook her head.

"No they didn't hurt me. The injuries I have are just the usual from my mission."

"How long?" he asked, and she furrowed her brows at him. "How long since you last saw home?"

"Four years."

"Jesus, Cammie," Zach groaned. "Why did you do it?"

"It's the sacrifice we make so that…" she started.

"Oh don't give me that crap, Cammie. It's all bullshit. All of it," he said, his voice growing louder, his tone stern and harsh.

"You must at least believe part of it, Zach. You volunteered and serve too," Cammie fired back softly. Her voice sounded as if it had suffered as much as she had, and it quickly soothed Zach's hard demeanour.

"That's right. I volunteered, Cammie. I wasn't forced. There's no way I was going to let them decide my fate." He pointed out the door as if the "them" he spoke of were waiting right outside. "What they demanded of us at the academy wasn't for me."

"Is that why you decided to leave?"

"It's why I flunked out," he corrected her.

"It crushed me when you left," Cammie confessed, turning back to look at the floor. She curled and uncurled her toes and rubbed her thighs. Zach knelt down in front of her. "I cried for days at night," she whispered.

Zach reached out and brushed away a single tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Cammie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's ok," Cammie sniffed, quickly composing herself. "You're the only one that's been around when I get back. You're always here for me," she added, standing up and turning her back to him.

"It's not ok, Cammie. ROGUES must give all. We…you were trained to live outside the walls. Twenty years you're required to give them. Twenty years of your life, but in just three years, Cammie, you've already changed. I couldn't give them that. I knew I wanted to control my own life, my destiny. I can go home when I'm on leave. I can have a life beyond this. I can still have a piece of the life that I fight to protect. Gallagher trained us to give all that up. You can't ever return until your service is complete. Is it worth it?" Zach asked, getting to his feet.

"Someone has to do it. I have to do it." She kept her back to him, and Zach didn't press the matter.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah I eh… enjoyed some chocolate pudding," Cammie smiled, remembering how good it tasted. "The shower wasn't so bad either." She turned back to Zach, and stared into his green eyes.

"Get some sleep, Cammie. You look tired. I'll be back when the prisoner is ready for you." He made his way passed her, but she called him back.

"Wait. I'm not that tired."

"Do you need me to order you to grab some sleep? Cause I will, Agent Morgan." Zach flashed her a friendly, but challenging smile. She smirked as her brown eyes narrowed.

"You couldn't order me. I outrank you. ROGUES outrank even Generals," Cammie puffed at him, arching a playful eyebrow. She watched as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"ROGUES outrank in the field. On base or in UEG territory, it's all military rank and procedure. ROGUES don't fall under official military, so your rank is outranked. Besides," he smirked. "Technically you're classified as a spook or Intelligence operative only." His smirk remained, and Cammie could swear his eyes were laughing, but she wasn't about to back down.

"Gonna start measuring each other's dicks are we, Major?" The challenge threw Zach off, and he chuckled.

"Always the rebel, weren't you?" he asked. Cammie merely shrugged.

"Maybe it's why I fit in with them so easily," she whispered against his ear. Before he could reply, she knocked him flat on his back, easily pinning him beneath her. "Now how about you order me to kiss you, Major?" She didn't even wait for his answer, instantly pressing her lips against his. "Or am I being insubordinate?"

Zach leaned up to kiss her again, and she let him, her hands already loosening his perfectly groomed uniform. Everything about him was perfect. And that kiss. Definitely ranking in the top five.

"Cameron…," Zach managed to say between kisses. "Bit pointless you getting dressed after your shower." He gasped as she bit and sucked his earlobe.

"Not a bit," she whispered. "It's always better to unwrap a gift." He groaned as Cammie continued to take charge.

1 Hour Later

"Cammie…Cammie. Cammie!" Zach shook Cammie's sleeping form. She finally started to stir and moan, so he shook her a little firmer.

"I'm up. I'm up," Cammie mumbled, turning over onto her back.

"Here," Zach handed Cammie her top. "Admiral wants us. Sounds like your prisoner is ready to talk."

Cammie immediately tossed off the sheets and bolted from the bed, pulling clothes together at lightning speed. She knew Zach was watching her, but she ignored him as she finished dressing. Instead of the tracksuit bottoms, she tossed on a pair of black combats, ignored putting on shoes, and strapped her phaser pistols to her thighs. She caught Zach watching intently, and she turned to him with a very cheeky look. When his eyes met hers, she winked at him with a smile.

"Quit that," he said as he finished dressing himself. "You ready?"

"Are you?" she countered.

The door hissed open, and she let Zach lead the way to the bridge. "Let's go."