The body fetched from the ship slammed against Commander Ilupen's desk, the sound of heavy metal echoed with a 'krang'. "I asked for evidence," said Ilupen, "not trophies. Why is there a Culter sprawled across my workspace?"
"Because when a squad mate inspects a body," replies Ogilvy, "and tries to murder their friends with an empty gun, there's got to be something up." Ogilvy flips the body onto its back, revealing the wound on the side of the head. "If it's dead, it shouldn't be able to do anything so I'm thinking a hacktrap of some sort. I think the doctors at the cyber warfare department should take a look at this one."
"I'll send in a request. What do you mean by squad mate? Where's Carpenter?"
"Right here," said Aahmiah as he lugged a still malfunctioning Carpenter with him. He stood him back up and slowly nudged him towards the Commander. As soon as he was in range, Carpenter swung around from Aahmiah to Commander Ilupen, giving him a fright.
"Carpenter, can you hear me?" asked Ilupen. He tried to push the gun away from his face but Carpenter was persistent. He then tried to remove the gun from his hand, but found it easier said than done. Skipping straight to the last resort, Ilupen slapped him across the face. There was no visible reaction from Carpenter, his finger still pulling away at the trigger.
"Carpenter is in another world right now, sir," explained La Roux. "I don't think he'd have any control over his body right now."
"Clearly," replied Ilupen. "I'm sending him home where he belongs. Hopefully whatever is happening here goes away with time. Until then, you three are dismissed until we receive results from the body. In unison, the squad saluted the Commander and forwarded out in a single file line. Shortly before they all disappeared, Ilupen called out. "Belle, I need to have a word with you regarding our monologue system." La Roux froze up and turned around slowly. As the door shut behind them, Ilupen continued. "Tell me why you've been accessing O-" Ogilvy got the funny idea it was about him. If La Roux is involved, it's bound to be about him. He and Aahmiah resumed their patrols for the rest of the evening and thought they would have a nice quiet week ahead of them before they heard about the case any further – cyber warfare investigations are typically slow.
The very next day, Ilupen called Ogilvy into his office. "Sergeant Ogilvy," greeted Ilupen, "I know I've had you running around a lot the past few week – and if anyone deserves a rest, it's you and Sergeant-commander Aahmiah, but I'm sending you off world again."
"Where to this time, sir?" asked Ogilvy.
"You're heading off to one of our orbital forensic science labs, Omar-15. The scientists need to interview you about the mission that put Carpenter in this state. His supervisor alerted us that he hasn't moved since we had him placed back at home so he was also sent to the science labs. You'll be catching a lift with one of our pilots, and very soon too. Kit yourself up with mandatory side-arms and be ready to leave in ten minutes." Ogilvy saluted and marched off to his office. Although he wouldn't show it to the Commander, Ogilvy was peeved that he had to cancel his plans for the day.
Upon reaching the Launchpad on the top floor, Ogilvy shook hands with the pilot. "Sergeant Ogilvy, Major Krestel, at your service," announced the pilot. The pilot was dressed in Federal pilot attire; a red jumpsuit with silver plates across the shins, calves, forearms, biceps, chest, stomach and back. The helmet was also silver, with three visors suited for Orus infantry, although this did not mean the pilot himself was an Orus. The mouthguard had black tubes connecting to the pack on his back; an oxygen supply for when the cockpit depressurises to stop his eardrums from rupturing during ascension.
"We'll leave immediately, Major," commanded Ogilvy. "When we arrive at the orbital, take some time for yourself. I'll contact you when I'm ready to leave again."
"That's what I like to hear, sir," agreed Krestel. The ship was the same model as the one Ogilvy rode to the Culter vessel, an Injector ship. Ogilvy sat down on the seat behind the cockpit and buckled himself in, ready for the trip. Shortly before Krestel fired up the engines, Ogilvy's receiver crackled before a familiar voice began talking. "Can you hear me, sir?" asked Krestel through the communicator.
"Only just, Major," confirmed Ogilvy. "The signal is a little weak."
"Yeah," replied Krestel. "I encrypted the signal because I could detect someone listening in on our ship. No biggie now, it's just us talking for the trip."
"I didn't think we'd be talking this trip at all."
"Well, y'know, I thought we might chat while we fly. Omar is the furthest orbital out so the trip may take a couple."
"A couple of what?"
"Hours."
"Are you serious, Major? I just got back from a return trip that took almost a New Eden day."
"Then I suppose I better start flying now then." Krestel jumpstarted the engines and the ship rocketed off. It didn't take long for the pilot to begin the conversation again. "Talking is considered the best way to speed up time by soldiers who are frequently transported large distances."
"Yeah?" Ogilvy replied.
"Yep, I've had the honour of transporting hundreds of troopers. You could say I've seen every part of the galaxy too."
"So you're a well-travelled man. I suppose that's what you'd expect from a pilot."
"Of course. If I never picked this position, I'd have never left my home planet."
"Where you born a civvie?"
"No, I was born a Fed. Anyone who was born on Old Earth was instantly put into the military. I can't complain though, whole future being sorted out for me and whatnot."
"You didn't feel controlled or anything?"
"No way, I got everything I wanted in the program. I was in a happy family, went to a decent school, had plenty of spare time and best of all, had a very well-paying job on offer the minute I turned 18. There was and is nothing worth complaining about!" said Krestel with enthusiasm.
"You don't feel like life could've been different if you were born somewhere else?"
"Of course it would've been different, but the fact is I was born on Old Earth and that's just how the cookie crumbles."
"I'm surprised the planet is still holding together."
"Well, the Sun hasn't exactly run out of gas yet so it's still got some time ahead of it."
"That is true," agreed Ogilvy. The conversation went on and on as the ship flew further and further into the atmosphere. Soon, space was in clear view and the ship was no longer within the atmosphere. Omar-15 was still ages away, so the conversation continued. Krestel asked Ogilvy about his current investigation, but Ogilvy wouldn't say. "If you get captured and you know anything about the case, the perp could discover us hot on their trail and we'll be back to square one if we're lucky."
"And if you're unlucky?" asked Krestel.
"The Secreta will get amongst it," explained Ogilvy, "and god knows we need swordsmen who get up from mortal injuries screwing with us."
"If the Secreta are involved, you're dealing with a complicated case."
"I was hoping that wasn't the case, but after Carpenter, anything is possible."
"… Who's Carpenter?" Ogilvy realised that he's letting his mission slip.
"Oh, uh, a cousin of mine."
"What, they get him or something?"
"Yeah. Evil, evil people."
"Hang on, busy now," said Krestel in a hurried voice. The Omar-15 was now in full view, and Krestel was seeking permission to land. All the ship's details have been cleared up and they were approved for landing. The ship slowly passed through a red field that surrounded the entire orbital station, and the sound of oxygen entering the ship echoed through the cockpit. Krestel removed his helmet, as did Ogilvy, almost in unison. As the ship touched down, Ogilvy looked out the window and saw the orbital landing pad. The pad was almost 5 kilometres squared, and was made out of clean, pristine flat cement. The occasional slots for special kinds of ships were scattered across the landing pad. At the end of the pad, the entrance into the station was visible. The walls were black and had red lining across the edges and machines fitted on the walls, fitting the Federal colour scheme effectively. Across the pad, there were hundreds of Federal soldiers and civilians entering and exiting ships, mingling with one another and otherwise just busying the pad. One would think landing would be difficult, but almost every ship coming or going found a safe way to do so.
"There's an awful lot of traffic for a private orbital," said Ogilvy to Krestel, as he stepped out of the pilot entry.
"This ain't private, ya goose," replied Krestel. "This is just a commercial station controlled by the Federation. People are allowed in and out as long as they swear peace, as violence will just lead to the Federal police coming in and ending it quickly, be it with more violence or detainment."
"Sounds strict."
"Yeah, but you'd be surprised how little action the police get. Bandits don't usually make it past the forcefield you saw us slip through and the Secreta are too busy being publicly secret to go on the offensive. Even if they did, this place wouldn't be a target; this orbital is tiny compared to what the Federation have built everywhere else. That being said, I'm taking my leave now as I've got someone I want to see before we ship off again. Take it easy now and call me when you're ready to fly home." Krestel raised his hand in salutation as he finished speaking.
"Will do. I'll take my time." Ogilvy saluted back before wandering towards the entrance. Upon reaching the checkpoint, Ogilvy raised his right hand, and his ID was projected from his forearm guard. The Federal guard at the checkpoint asked him to wait while he fetched details sent in from Ilupen. The guard shuffled around his desk before handing over a Holonote with locations and personnel. Ogilvy saluted and continued on his way before reading the note. He found himself a bench to sit at not far from the entrance and looked through the note. Ilupen left him with the duty of overseeing the investigation of Carpenter and his current state. He was to report to the Omar-15 medical complex and investigate both the body he delivered to Ilupen and Carpenter. If the events of the Culter vessel were somehow related to the murder-suicides on New Eden, then now was the time to find out.
Ogilvy rose from his seat and began to look around for directions to the medical complex. The sound of his boots slapping against the cement with each step was drowned out by the noise of a thriving and bustling urban community. If he didn't know any better, Ogilvy would have thought he wasn't on a Federation-controlled space station. He could look up and see a lime green virtual sky reminiscent of the polluted atmosphere of New Eden past the high-rises and tall, cluttered buildings that lined the paths. Not a single car was driving on the floor nor flying above the masses. Everywhere he looked, people were exiting and entering buildings, chatting amongst themselves or otherwise just trying to get by. The space station was peaceful. Ogilvy quickly regained his focus on the job and continued walking. After nudging his way through a couple of clusters of civilians and having to turn himself around multiple times, Ogilvy finally found the complex.
The entrance was a rather large slate grey door with a red holographic sign above it saying "FEDERAL MEDICAL: OPEN". Upon approaching the door, multiple blue scanning lights covered Ogilvy's body before an affirming beep was heard. The door slid open rather quickly for its size. I suppose you'd need big doors when Federal soldiers are sent in bulk, thought Ogilvy. On the inside were two Federal guards in medium armour standing opposite sides of the door, and a big desk with a receptionist behind it. The receptionist wore light armour and a helmet that hid his face. He looked up as Ogilvy walked towards the desk. "Sergeant Ogilvy, your reputation precedes you," said the receptionist. "Ilupen made it clear to me that you must visit ward 23-E. You can find it in the left wing." He lifted his left hand and gestured towards the hallway to his left. Ogilvy saluted and began walking down the hallway. As he walked past each door, he scanned the signs. '01-A, 02-A, 03-A…' He reached the end of the hallway and walked up the staircase. The stairs lead to the different levels of the wing, and he entered the E level.
23 doors down and Ogilvy reached his destination. He placed his wrist against the control panel beside the door and was immediately granted access. Inside was a man wearing a black Federal doctor's outfit. He was sitting at a desk next to another door. Opposite him was a leather couch. This must have been the waiting room, thought Ogilvy. The doctor looked up at him. "You must be the agent from New Eden," he said with a hoarse voice.
"Sergeant," corrected Ogilvy.
"Whatever," said the doctor. "Right this way, if you will." The doctor got up and opened the door. Behind the door was a room that appeared too large to be stuck in with the rest of the ward. The room was empty, save for two doors to the left and right and a massive glass screen that covered the wall opposite the entrance. Ogilvy peeked through the glass and saw two familiar sights: the body he took from the vessel and Carpenter. The body was laying on a slate table below a light whilst Carpenter was still standing up straight, unmoving. Upon closer inspection, Ogilvy noticed something different about Carpenter.
"Where's his right hand?" asked Ogilvy.
"We had to cut it off," said the doctor. "We can't get a closer inspection if my nurses are too nervous around a man holding a gun and he wasn't going to let go of it any time soon. It was the only option."
"Does that mean he won't be in action again anytime soon?" Ogilvy asked.
"Carpenter won't be in any action at all ever, really," stated the doctor matter-of-factly.
"Why?"
"Carpenter is fully aware of his actions, but has no control over his bodily movements," explained the doctor. "He is currently infected with a virus that assumed complete control of his skeleton through his implants. The virus does not allow him any movement of his own accord and has only one goal in mind; kill everyone. It targets anyone in the vicinity instantly and, with the infected's body, very quickly aims for the head and fires. Luckily, Carpenter only got the minority of the virus in his system. Had he got the majority, we'd be in mortal danger just standing in this very room."
"There's more to the virus?"
"Yes. The body you kindly supplied alongside Carpenter has an instance of the virus – the full thing. Scanning the virus shows that it also contains data with instructions on reloading, changing weapons and melee combat."
"So what you're saying is that there is a virus going around that turns people into mindless killing machines with perfect accuracy and instant reaction times?"
"It would appear so."
-{Igor Bilinsky: Monologue File #44329}
TIMESTAMP: 07/02/0015
I've received a body and a victim from the New Eden Federal HQ this morning. I had a white-hat cybermancer scan the body and shortly after, he went blooming mad! He froze up and kept telling me to get away. I hesitated before marching towards the door, and as it closed behind me, he started shooting! He must have emptied hundreds of bullets into the door right behind me! After a while he stopped shooting and I could finally hear again. I zipped up to my office where it was safe and saw him facing the door with his machine gun out. He sat there, waiting for me to come back. After a few minutes he reloaded his gun. Blimey, he's got more ammo. I flooded the room with knock out gas and he remained standing. Not knowing what else I could do, I had an EMP bomb dropped from the ceiling and I watched as he stiffened and fell over. I went back down because I thought it was safe. It was, but I still had a dangerous statue sitting in my workstation. I dragged him into a storage closet and locked him in it. I'll get someone to deal with him tomorrow. I've still much to do.
{End Holonote}-