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IMC Sergeant James Rhodes sat in the back seat of a compact four-wheeler as it rolled over the tough, crumbling terrain of the burning cityscape. He was the second-in-command of the Scouting Unit that led a convoy to scout around for Insurrects and rebels. The bumpy road sort of made his stomach queasy. Despite being doing mercenary work for the IMC for almost three years in his five year contract, he could almost never handle riding cars over terrible roads. He tapped the shoulder of the driver and said, "Can you go slower? I'm feeling sick."
The driver glanced back and said, "Sorry sir, but if we went any slower, the rebellious insurrects might be the given an opportunity to strike back. We can't let that happen. Not until the Pilots are dropped from the Odyssey."
"But we have a Pilot with us right now!" Rhodes retorted, pointing at the person sitting in the passenger seat. The individual was decked out in camouflage-style armor, something that a sniper team personnel would wear. "I'm sure he can handle the messy work. Let's go slower."
The private sitting next to Rhodes tapped his shoulder.
"What do you want Private?!" He snapped. "Can't you see that I am on verge of-"
"The Pilot is a She. Not a He, sir."
Rhodes face went pale. Not from motion-sickness. The title 'Pilot' held great weight across the ranks of the IMC. Although he didn't know what exactly the Pilots piloted, he heard of the various things that Pilots could do to kill someone silently and stealthily. He needed to stay on their good side.
"P-Pardon me for my insolence ma'am… I w-was-"
Swiftly, the Pilot drew her Longbow-DMR Sniper Rifle with one arm and rested the end of the barrel on top of Rhodes' forehead.
"Don't talk until we get there." She said, in an almost mechanized voice.
Rhodes quickly nodded and shut up. The Pilot put away her weapon and resumed looking forward. The motion-sickness had subsided and now he was terrified for his own life. Now he knew to NEVER insult a Pilot and NEVER get on their bad side.
As the car rolled along for a several more minutes, a rather large brick compound was seen in this distance. The windows were tinted black so nothing could be seen, even with high-powered binoculars. The Pilot raised her hand and motioned the convoy to stop. Rhodes gulped the lump down his throat.
As all the cars came to a stop, the Pilot got off the car and took out her rifle. She looked through the lenses on her scope as she scanned the surrounding area. Motioning her team to move forward, she waved her hand low. All the men on the cars unloaded themselves, readied their weapons, and followed after her. Rhodes, gripping his EVA-8 shotgun tightly, let out a nervous sigh. Thinking about his military career, Rhodes realized that he didn't actually participate in real combat situations.
The first time was during the combat training that had gone wrong at the IMC Training Grounds on some planet in the N'jach System. Its official location and the event was never disclosed because the IMC didn't want location of all the discreet mercenary training zones to be leaked to the general public. The fact that a major corporation like IMC had a private military was already a thing of public debate but to realize that the mercenaries-for-hire were actually flying around the systems shooting civilians were another entire matter. In fact, it wasn't even known. No one knew the IMC actually waged campaigns across the galaxy. All the accessible information that was passed around through the Interstellar Network was brought down from corporate sites and all backwater sites, even to most obscure sites on the list.
How did Rhodes know this?
Before being enlisted to the ranks of the IMC mercenaries, he was something similar to private investigator for hire. He was paid to gather dirt on major corporations and businesses that certain people wanted to get rid of. And in this case, it was the IMC. Someone, who remained anonymous much to Rhodes' dismay, offered a big sum of cash for certain information that surrounded the shady IMC. The client went by the ID: B.L.A.C.K. Of course, the client wasn't very specific and Rhodes had to do who his homework by talking with other investigators and previous IMC staff members. What he managed to uncover was unbelievable.
He found out the surplus army the IMC was making and the mechanical army they were producing as well. Hammond Robotic Industries had been making very shady deals with the IMC in the past, and this is what it had led to. An entire army of mechanical soldiers in the thousands. Also, while investigating, he managed to come across some confidential military information.
Something about… 'Project: Titan.'
He never managed to actually uncover that source. Some of the main corporate figureheads managed to find out that their top-secret information was finding its way into the minds of the public. And soon, Rhodes was caught by an undercover police force… Also employed by the IMC. He was faced with two choices. Face a twenty year jail sentence and endanger his entire family or sign up for a 5-year IMC military contract and get paid.
The choice was obvious.
He was enlisted into the ranks of the IMC and after two years, he became a sergeant. Despite actually not participating in many combat situations, he proved himself to be a rather versatile leader in the time of need.
When he had the chance, he would often try to find his client, the one who ordered him to gather dirt on the IMC, but to no avail. Rhodes always thought that he was good at his job in the world of espionage and disappearing, but this client was pretty damn good at it too. Rhodes never managed to back trace the Communication Link he had registered with his client nor was he able to relay the uncovered information back to him. In a way, he kind of felt cheated. If he had not accepted the contract from the client, he wouldn't be in this mess. But in a way, it felt good to know that he held the bladed pendulum over his and the IMC's neck with all the information he had uncovered. He-
"Sergeant!" The Private yelled. "You're lagging behind! C'mon, the convoy isn't going to wait for you!"
Rhodes broke from his mind and was back in the real world. He sighed, resting his hand on the grip of his shotgun. "I'm coming." He yelled back.
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Rhodes and his men reached the brick building a little bit later than the squad led by the Pilot. She broke from formation and diverted off to her own path, taking about three men with her, trying to get a better visual and vantage point from their to-be adversaries. The first-in-command, Commander Ryans, stepped out from cover. (There were plenty of concrete and steel plated walls in front of the compound.) Holding a voice-amplifier, he approached the compound, speaking.
"Rebels! Insurrects! Whatever you wish to be called! We know you are in there! Come out now and drop your weapons! We do not wish any bloodshed anymore on the battlefield today! So please! Release your weapons! And we will do no harm! You are all now in IMC custody!"
Sounds like something from a handbook… Probably called "How to Not Get the Enemy to Surrender."
There was no response.
As expected… who the heck is going to surrender to someone who says something as long as that?
The Captain raised the amplifier again. "This is your last warning! If you do not comply, we will use lethal force. I repeat, we will use lethal force."
Still, there was no reply.
The Captain looked over his shoulder at his subordinates. He pointed at the door, "Go knock it down."
Three men from the convoy went up to the door. Two men stood on the sides of the door while one stood in front of it. He started to kick it, trying to make it budge.
Rhodes stayed behind cover, watching from a distance. Noticing his own weapon, he knew that from where he was, he had the disadvantage. The EVA-8 was devastating at close quarters but from where he stood, he didn't stand a chance. He slung the shotgun over his back and went the side to reach for his sidearm when suddenly a gunshot rang out.
"Shots fired! We have contact! I repeat, we have contact!" The Captain yelled ducking behind cover.
Bullets started to rain from all sides as the concrete slab Rhodes hid behind started chip apart. There was one foot soldier that wasn't fast enough was met with a hail of led. Rhodes saw the man get torn to shreds. He winced at the scene, but didn't break his line of sight. He held the B3 Wingman revolver tightly in his hand as the bullets whizzed by and above his head. His breathing quickened as the adrenaline started to pump through his body.
"Sergeant!" His Private yelled to him. He was standing parallel to him, behind a separate layer of cover. "We're sitting ducks out here! You're the fastest one! We'll cover you! So, run to the front!"
"Are you kidding?!" He yelled back. "They have two Spitfire Light Machine Guns up there! What do we possibly have that will neutralize the fire rate?"
The Private then pulled out an AT-ARL, or nicknamed, The Sidewinder. Even with the big bulky helmet on his head, Rhodes could see the Private smiling devilishly.
"That weapon isn't authorized for use by common soldiers like you!" Rhodes yelled sternly.
"Does it even matter now?!" He yelled. "Just get ready to move!"
"Roger that." Rhodes said, taking a deep breath.
"On three, sergeant!" The Private yelled. "1… 2…"
"…3" Rhodes muttered to himself as he bolted up and ran for the fortified compound. Behind him, he heard the constant 'ping' sound of the Sidewinder's firing. As the small, bright rockets met their target on machine gun nest, the debris came raining down. With all the ruckus, Rhodes wasn't sure if the machine gunners had stopped firing or not. But that didn't matter. He had to get the door open. The three soldiers that were sent earlier laid dead in front of door, holes in their chests from enemy shotgun blasts. Rhodes sprinted even faster and rammed into the door with all the momentum. He felt the door's hinges break from their frame as the door toppled down.
He heard voices overhead. He realized that enemies were upstairs. Quickly, he rolled off the door and into the first floor. He quickly estimated that the compound was about four stories tall. Gripping his B3 Wingman, Rhodes quietly advance through the building. Walking down the rather dark corridor, he turned on the Tac-light on his helmet. He needed to find the stairs. Coming out of the hallway, he found a common room and a staircase that led up. He quickly approached the stairway but while he did, he stepped on top of shattered glass that was thrown on top of the floor. Of course it didn't hurt him but it was very loud.
Oh shi-
"Hey! We got one downstairs!" He heard a voice yell. "I'll go get him!"
Looking up quickly at the stairway, he saw a Rebel dressed in brown armor jump at him, holding metal pipe. He quickly evaded the attack but not fast enough. The Rebel insurgent managed to knock his sidearm away. He cursed to himself.
Rhodes knew he had the shotgun but that would be too loud. He had to fight hand-to-hand.
The Rebel lashed out with the pipe at him but Rhodes sidestepped the attack and grabbed the end of the pipe from the side. Then swiftly, he pulled the pipe and brought the Rebel closer to him. And when he came in range, Rhodes headbutted the man in the nose with his helmeted head with full force. As the man recoiled pain, Rhodes quickly swiped the pipe from the man's hand and struck him on the side of the head, knocking him out effectively.
All of this happened in less than ten seconds.
Still pumping with adrenaline, Rhodes picked up his revolver and began his ascent up the stairs. When he reached the second floor, two Rebels spotted him. He then threw the metal pipe at the one who stood furthest from him, catching him in the gut. The other Rebel rushed him. Rhodes then sprinted at him but when he was a mere foot away, he leapt onto the wall and landed behind the insurrect. Catching him by surprise, Rhodes grabbed the barrel of his revolver and swung the grip square into the man's head. He fell without struggle. When he turned around, he saw the metal pipe on the floor but realized that the Rebel had disappeared. Then, an alarm blared inside the corridor from where he stood. He cursed aloud.
He ran down the hallway as fast as he could. But when he was close to the end of it, he was met with cold, metal butt of rifle to the head. Disoriented and almost knocked out, Rhodes made out an outline of a Rebel standing before him with a rifle in his arms. Rhodes knew that he no longer held anyone of his weapons on himself. The metal pipe rolled away and he knew that his sidearm was clattered away somewhere. He thought about reaching for his shotgun but he realized that he had crushed it when fell flat on his back. The only thing that waited for him was bullet to the brain.
He faced his executioner who seemed to be a bit too short to be a Rebel. Then the Rebel came up to him and Rhodes expected a gun to head. Instead, the Rebel reached out his hand.
"Here. C'mon get up." The Rebel said.
Rhodes was bewildered. He thought he was going to die. But instead of dying, his executioner had become his savior. He slowly took the hand, still dizzy from the blow. He got up steadily, still a bit wobbly.
The Rebel slung the rifle, which was a Hemlok BF-R, over his shoulder and walked over behind Rhodes, reaching down. He picked up Rhodes' sidearm and gave it back to him.
Rhodes took the weapon back.
"Come on. Shin wants to have a word with you." The Rebel said, walking down the corridor.
"Uh… Who?" Rhodes asked. Rhodes looked carefully at the Rebel who had taken off his helmet. He had light blue eyes and light brown hair. It struck him then. This Rebel, who had knocked him down to his back, was a mere child if not a teenager. It almost felt embarrassing.
"The leader of the Black Sparrows, Shin." The boy said again.
"Oh." Rhodes said, nodding his head. "I've heard of them before. One of the more notorious raiding marauders… How long have you been with them?"
"First day." The boy said, re-slinging his rifle. He seemed uncomfortable with it.
"Really?" Rhodes asked. "No shit?"
The boy nodded. "No shit… Name's Dominic by the way."
"Rhodes. James Rhodes." Rhodes replied. I've always wanted to say that line..
They stopped in front of a door.
"Here we are." Dominic said. "Shin is waiting for you inside."
Rhodes took a breath. He opened the door and inside was a young man, probably the same age as him, standing by a fortified window, hands pocketed. He was dressed in brown-black Pilot-class armor and his helmet was on the table behind him. The man glanced behind his shoulder and saw Rhodes standing in the doorway and he grinned.
"So you're still alive…" The man, who was called Shin, said. "It was lucky for me to hire you, Rhodes."
"What?" Rhodes asked, unable to understand. "I'm afraid I don't follow you sir."
Shin then pulled a chair from the table and sat down. "Don't give me the Military-respect crap. I've heard it all before. Never really liked it."
"Regardless… Shin was it?" Rhodes asked. "What are you talking about?"
Shin scratched the back of his head, chuckling briefly. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Do you remember the Callsign ID B.L.A.C.K?"
"Of course I do…" Rhodes said. "Wait… you can't be serious…"
"I appreciate the research you got for us." Shin said, smirking.
"I never got to relay the information back to you." Rhodes said, feeling slightly glum.
Shin shook his head. "Do you think I would give up that easy? I heard from several of your other sources that the IMC got to you first. So I simply went to the place you lived and retrieved all of your documents and investigation reports. I was planning on meeting you in person to hire you again. Not for more investigative work but for something else."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Have you ever wanted to kick the IMC back in the ass after what they forced you to do?"
Rhodes chuckled. And then laughed out loud.
"Oh… you have no idea…"
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