Chapter 19: Waiting Game
There was audible humming from the machine.
The audible humming synergised with the rumbling of the helicopter outside, and it had reached a form of resonance as I felt it.
My maw, it twitched. The thin lines that were my lips contorted and wiggled, adjusting themselves to the breather.
A soft hiss.
My eyes blinked, dreariness from sleep and the usual distortions of my inner world began to shudder. The former receded whereas the latter just shifts. I felt the embrace of my gloves, and the steel of my fingertips.
There was a bump. I felt my body move, flesh and construct wobbled. Turbulence perhaps?
I blinked, and I felt the tug. When I open my eyes again, the distortions painted my sight red.
A soft hiss-wheeze. The breather contorted and massaged the lungs. I turned, and the head turned. Not enough to give way I was there, but more than enough to test and assure that the connection was made. Only then, I took more elaborate movements.
"Rain?"
She was seated across; I could see her past the cargo that filled the space between us. She was still on that datapad. Goodness, she didn't sleep again.
"Master," she greeted, not even looking up. "We're thirty minutes from arrival. I've sent processed info to your WMT, you should take a look at it."
Nodding, I raised the left forearm. The device lit up at my subliminal commands. It wasn't a necessary action, given there was already numbers floating in my field of vision. However, old habits die hard, and, in truth, I still had to sell the idea I was there.
New tabs opened up in front of me. My eyes skimmed over the details, but what was there was well within realms of acceptable. It would appear that we were still in fate's good grace.
The entire fleet had also gone through the night uninterrupted. Part of me feared that this was certainly a sign of us being detected, but then the reports from those who were respawning back at the city wouldn't match. At least, we could only hope that the world still thought of us as lethal brutes for hire.
As I went through the details of the data packet within my own world, there came moments where my attention waned. My attention went to those around me.
Armoured up and heavily armed was an obvious conclusion, but it didn't deter me from taking note of their subtle queues. Both the men beside me were shifting in their seats, both from the movement of the transport and the full awareness their leader had awoken. Those beside Rain were trying to remain as stiff as they could despite the tremors.
I opened a new panoramic feed and saw that most of the thirty-six were in various states of awake, half-awake or asleep respectively. Albeit, they too were slowly progressing into a fully alert status. I made a motion of rotating the head on its mount. The bones popped in a few places, but all was still natural.
Turning to look right, I gaze out at Stana. He jaw movement suggested he was chewing on nicotine gum. I wonder how many he'd gone through by this point. Those only at best lasted an hour.
I opened a private channel. "Imagining the ladies in Intcom much?"
It was amazing how I can imagine the suckered look the man had upon my sudden voice. Outwardly, he only seemed to adjust in his seating. Casting a rather discrete glance towards the seat I was on, I can feel the glare behind those lenses sewn into the balaclava.
"Go piss your coffin, sir," he grumbled. I chuckled.
"I'll send you a bag. You might actually be able to defend yourself well with it from Rain."
I let a moment of silent pass before continuing.
"Anything you'd like to share from the night?"
"Other than I'd want to be back on the ground? No."
"The men?"
"Fine, just eager to get off."
"Alright then. Be sure to remind me that I owe you another favour."
"Sir."
I breathed. My mind's attentiveness returned, and I set about going through the data Rain sent from earlier, along with the new ones she'd updated. I spared another look her way, but she remained focused on her own tasks. Her forever youthful face stood in contrast to mine, at least where the truth was concerned.
Clenching with the left side of my jaw, water flowed into my maw. My throat shifted, the endless discomfort when it comes to keeping myself hydrated and fed was apart of my life for so long now, I wondered even when I grew used to it myself.
I counted as always how long it took to finish a drink. Five seconds again. Then, my breather took over and I felt the sterile air softly blast the depths into my being.
Twenty years. What has become of me?
That question adds itself by one every year.
"Attention all passengers, we're approaching the arrival point. Standby for touchdown. Alley is clear. Repeat, alley is clear. Initiating landing plan Alpha."
All at once, the lull of the cargo bay ended. The men checked their weapons. The few who remained asleep were violently roused. Stana gave orders on the unit's frequency and I idlily noted the formation and commands. Yet, I felt nothing, save the same shivers that had grown over the course of the week.
I could not call it fear, I since had forty years to come to terms with that.
I could not call it bravery, as I would rather see it as my humiliation.
Nothing in my mind came close to matching what I felt. The words were lost.
Yet, as I looked across the space at the woman who'd been at my side all these years. I could feel a sense of finality wash over me. She was looking at me as well. Her face betrayed nothing but that same indifference I've come to admire her for.
My mind found its clarity.
A fleet of aircraft soared over the air that'd once only been ruled by birds and monsters. Their combined rumble was like a fast-moving cloud of thunder. They were a composite of the West and East of the Old World. Chinooks, Sea Stallions, Hinds and Mils. Swiftly as their motors allowed, they stuck as close as they could to the trees without disturbing them.
The fleet had crossed the desert overnight in order to reach their destination by early noon, only stopping once for refuelling at the Zoo Tower that had been once known as Point 4.
It was the forward most craft that cued the flock on their designated landing zone. A clearing devoid of trees and even grass, with an impressive number of vehicles awaiting them along with personnel. A simple radio command passed between the aircraft, and then another receiver on a different frequency. The receiver responded, and each transport was guided to their specific landing zones.
One such Sea Stallion landed, and immediately, as soon the ramp was lowered, three dozen armed men flooded out of the back, startling a few personnel who'd been assigned to aid in off-loading the transports.
The crew chief assigned for the present personnel was approached by the leader of the platoon that'd disembarked from the transport. Said leader handed him a data pad, and upon reading it, his eyes widened into saucers. Standing straighter and giving a salute, the chief went off to call for more hands to help unload the Sea Stallion.
As this happened, the rest of the platoon acted on their established orders prior to their departure. They formed into their respective squads and began their patrols. The squad leader approached the ramp of the transport once more, where the Subcommander stood to one side with her gaze split between screen and scenery.
"Mistress, there's help coming to unload the cargo. Shall we proceed as planned?"
"Confirmed, we're still green on the original plan. You can proceed to Chopper Three-One, and make sure that Priority Two is secured. Likewise, tell Second Platoon to proceed accordingly."
"Understood, ma'am."
With that, Stana left along with five other members of first squad. The remaining two dozen remained within the immediate area of the grounded transport and the two other aircraft adjacent to it and busied themselves with unloading cargo from those neighbouring craft.
"Rain, the air. What does it feel like?"
She looked at a patch of ground to her left. Noting the shadow without reason for existing. Her attention turned back to the datapad, noting the steady chatter of units giving constant updates.
"Temperature is above average, not something to be concerned. However, relative humidity is currently sitting at 79 percent and consistent."
"Yes, I have a Pipboy too, I can read the same thing just fine."
"Then, why ask such a question?"
"Because it beats being stuck in here with nothing to do. What I'd give to be out there testing my claws out on the those failed abominations."
"You could busy yourself reading up on those dossiers on the Irregulars."
"For what? The hundredth time. The same ones I read many times before deciding who to go through with the Lazarus?"
"Be bored all you want but try and avoid roping me into it."
She heard the audible grunt, but there was no follow up remark. Instead, a change of subject.
"Hassan's here. I'm moving out. I'll see you at the meeting."
There was a soft breeze. Closing her eyes just a brief moment, she tilted back just enough to not get touched by the unseen edge that passed by her. To an onlooker, it would've looked as if she was cracking her neck to be rid of discomfort.
She opened her eyes just in time to see a line of Utility Task Vehicles arrived in front of her. From the lead vehicle, a man dismounted and approached her. Said person shared the same full-faced balaclava and gearing, consisting of reinforced plating overlapped by an ammo harness. The only exception was the green lines on his upper arms and legs, denoting a separate unit.
"Mistress, 022, reporting. We're ready to begin transporting the package."
"On time, soldier. Get to work."
She moved out. Her destination being the now increasingly large convoy of vehicles that were assembling behind the UTVs. One of which, was a BTR-3, with a squad already positioned around the vehicle to welcome her.
Before entering the command vehicle, she noted the men who were handling the Sea Stallion's cargo. Despite having decades to be familiar and thorough with many of the men herself, she never loss any of the doubts and paranoia she started with. That was just how she was.
Inhaling deep, she moved inside and her way over to the comm station. Compared to its counterpart from a different time, this one came complete with a monitor and compact CPUs and was able to receive data directly from EVA. Inputting her security clearance, she was greeted with text greeting her and acknowledging the vehicle's priority in the convoy.
One by one, the units within the convoy confirmed their place and status. Reports and other chatter filled the channel, and she filed the unnecessary info away. She spared but a glance just to confirm her own escorts had entered the APC.
"Hey, ma'am," a voice called out.
Her head turned to the voice. The gunner had a rather dull look on his face.
"Is it true," he spoke plainly above the engine drone. "About what they say about you?"
She blinked, deliberately. Amusement being the last thing on her mind when it came to the question asked.
"Elaborate, soldier."
"They say you're in bed with the freakshow of a commander. Said you'd kill anyone who spoke bad about him."
The moment the words left his mouth, the driver of the BTR-3 looked at his partner. Their face spoke of horror and no doubt terror over what his fellow man over the fate his fellow man had resigned them to.
"Fraternisation is to be kept minimal when on duty, the commander recognises this and so should you. My job has always been to handle that which is below the commander's notice."
A chuckle. "Yeah, I'd get that. Must be nice to be handling what's below the belt of that shiner too, eh?'
"Sargeant Pullo, take over the vehicle."
"Aye ma'am."
Behind her, she sensed her own aide and bodyguard standup. There was the soft sound of a knife pulled from the sheathe. Slaps and alarmed cries resounded above the dull groan of the engine, but quickly died down. A second body moved behind her, and she continued ignoring it in favour of giving the convoy the go-ahead to move.
"All units, begin departure from the landing zone. OpSec reports clear. Cleanup crews are to be on standby for dismantling," placing the handset back onto its holster, she felt an immense weight being shifted around her being. It was enough to warrant a sigh.
She turned to look ahead, taking a mental note of the two members of her own entourage operating the vehicle. She then turned around and noted the rest who for their part remained seated quietly. Only then she looked down and noted the corpses with their throats slit, a feeling bordering on upset over the need to clean the vehicle upon arrival.
"EVA, send me the dossiers on the operators of this unit. Also, wake me when we arrive at the main base."
"Yes, Mistress."
The body sat above one of the AFVs.
I gazed through the red-shaded world of both its eyes and mine. I saw green of all colour where the red didn't encroach. Occasionally, numbers and words would appear on tab. Much of it displayed what concerned my own health. Others would be the reports coming in at a consistent rate.
Breathing, the metals they prodded under me, like great fingers as long as my lungs were tall. The sides of my head were pressed as I forced myself to steady once more.
THUM!
Fuck!
Teeth long since dulled and brittle grinded against the metal structure that kept my mouth open. Curves akin to dull fishhooks pulled the edges of my lips out. I gargled and choked on the tube.
Out of reflex, my body pulled every fibre of muscle. However, where the bump by chance had succeeding in choking me, it didn't loosen the straps on my body. The most I could do was spasm my fingers, and even those were quick to lock in place when noticing my distress.
Breathe.
My gargling continued. My neck fought both assiduous and lethargically against the construct forced through its windpipe. However, it was a battle not meant to be one.
Breathe.
Once, there'd even be tears whenever these kinds of discomforts happened. Now, there was only the squinting of the eyes, and more heaves as I forced myself to relax, and allow the structure to fix itself inside my gaping mouth. Dry, soft, strained, choke-gargles leaked through the cracks of the now long since violated larynx.
Breathe.
I didn't hear, only felt as the structure recorrected itself. The tiny whirrs and clicks made me feel pressure in my temples. Tremors possessed both my hands, warring with the metals that bind them from digits to wrists.
Breathe.
Two separate timers, one internal and the other mechanical clicked one after the other, and I quickly took a deep and long draw of breath from the apparatus. A count to five, then I nudged it for water. A count to seven, then another breath.
The plates and muscles on my back relaxed. I could almost feel the sticky texture peel itself of my clothes. A tiny blip at the back of my mind reminded me it wasn't necessarily sweat that stuck there.
I blinked. One. Two.
"Commander," a voice called.
Three.
"Speak," came the curt response.
"We got incoming . Intersection. We're looking at a company sized force."
"Will it disrupt us?"
"Negative. Still, suggest interception to avoid trouble."
I pondered, then I remembered the pressure.
"Prepare your men to counter. Move ahead, and I'll join you when I do."
"Acknowledged."
Receding into my consciousness, I made the body stand. Hidden exoskeletons kept it in place on board the top of the BTR. Running a basic check, I verified both the organic and the mechanical pieces were optimal. I passed the info of the oncoming horde to Rain, who confirmed that the convoy was already diverting course around the expected engagement zone. She then wished me a pleasant fight and I had to curve the edges of my gaping mouth at her proactiveness.
Pressing down, I launched the body off the back of the vehicle. Despite feeling naught but dry air, I imagined the wind off my coat, the vibrations off the impact as both leg and machine fought back the recoil of the landing.
Exhilaration, but without the sensation. It made me furious.
The buggy screeched to a halt. Above, the mounted LMG rapped and sent its hollow point munition down range at the approaching horde. Beside it, duplicates of the first vehicle halted in similar fashion and formed a battle line against their foes.
Hassan dismounted from one of these vehicles. His FAL rifle readied and pointed downrange. Signalling his men, they formed a line and began laying suppressive fire. Grenade launchers, both underslung and dedicated added their own thumps to the staccato.
The horde, caught off-guard by the counter assault, found itself tripping over their fallen. The adapted munitions providing ample stopping power and damage with explosive blasts mixed in to startle larger beasts.
"All squads, leapfrog! First and Third Advance First. Second and Fourth follow up!" yelled Hassan into the comms.
A series of pings sounded in his ears, and the entirety of his platoon began to reform into a staggered line. The dismounted troops formed around the buggies as they began to advance.
Vocal commands even through audio receivers were next to useless when there were more than three dozen barrels thundering in the air, and in a close formation like theirs. Alas, even a unit as important as theirs haven't been given the more exotic tech that characterised their struggles in later eras. Hence, the only other option available was hand motions.
The lieutenant's first squad ran relay for each command given. Although, the horde present wasn't anywhere near grievous enough to warrant much intervention from him, and soon the faux beasts began to waver in their assault.
"Blackbirds!" someone yelled.
Snapping his head up, he noticed the two flying monstrosities coming down on them with the early afternoon sun behind their backs. He would've given the order to open fire had it not been for the warheads that slammed both creatures.
His vision turned to the source which was behind him. There was a squadron of Gen-One Attack Bikes that had arrived at some point. It was easy to notice the ones responsible for the save due to the smoking missile pods behind them.
"Lieutenant, report," a voice sounded in his ears.
"Sir, we stopped the horde. Situation under control," came his quick reply.
"Well done, pick your best men to advance. We're wasting the stragglers."
Those words struck like a half-hearted punch to the heart. Grunting, he adjusted the comm back to his unit's private frequency.
"First squad, on me. We're pursuing stragglers. Everyone else, clean up and secure."
Another set of pings. Hassan couldn't help but take a deep breathe, expecting anything to come out from what was going to happen next.
I had to thank the riders who adjusted quickly to my appearance along their path. Doubly so for the one who allowed me to piggyback on their vehicle to the battle site.
Apart of me took note through the eyes of the body that the adjustments in munitions was proving effective. Grimm didn't care for injuries or any manner of bodily harm. Once they sensed a human, they simply tunnel visioned to the target. For that reason, the usual standard of wounding the foes didn't work. Rather, stopping power and greater emphasis of damage that a hollow point round provided was more useful.
After having dismounted the attack bike I hitched a ride on, I steered the body on a path that circumnavigated the main battle line. No point catching a stray shot, is what I told myself. Thankfully, the suppression fire ended by the time I reached the other end of the field and entered the treeline.
Often times, survival overwrote even hatred, and even the Grimm were no different. A man might wait to strike back at its pursuers, but a beast would look to flee through any means necessary even if it took a limb. Yet, what is Man if not a persistent hunter.
My first kill was found easy enough. The mere sight of the wolf sent my heart skipping. Even if that body in the view was not mine, I could easily imagine the sensation of sinking mine altered fingers into its dark flesh.
Leaping the last distance, the wolf barely had a chance to react as the body tackled it off to the side. A very animal-like yelp in surprise as the limbs of its attacker wrapped around it. It didn't even have a chance to panic as steel claws sunk into its neck and tore chunks out.
Great wobbles and bounces followed, but the beast was young and lack honed reflexes. It died long before the third rebound. The body standing atop it with both hands still deep into its neck.
A breath escaped me, but it was not my own lungs that expelled it.
Willing it to stand, I craned the neck left, right and around, inspecting the surroundings. With a mental command, my vision shifted between monochrome and thermal.
There. Another one of the beasts. Ursa variant as well.
Unlike before, I had no momentum to work with, and the new target wouldn't be swayed by any mere tackle, augmented or not. I took to a tree, the claws digging deep into the wood and leaving deeper gouges. I was easily three to four meters off the ground before I leapt off to another trunk and continued.
Nothing was subtle about my movements, and the false bear knew this as it gazed at the strange phenomenon of wood tearing itself apart. This one must've been separated from the rest of the fleeing horde. Taking a small break from my trapezing, I made doubly sure to check the surroundings for ensnarement. None- wait.
Sneaky bug.
Many years ago, I would've had some sense of irony seeing a scorpion the size of a bus considering my own heraldry. Now, it was plain irksome and more so an affront to my own being. The thing I speak off is the Deathstalker lying in wait at a distance away. No doubt alerted to the sounds of fighting, but instinctually avoiding getting involved. Switching to blue, I inspected and noticed the size discrepancy with the adult variants. This one was an adolescent.
I turned back to my original target. The Ursa was getting anxious and was no doubt wondering why the threat had ceased movement. Turning back to the oversized scorpion a good five to six meters away, I pondered my plan.
It was obvious.
The wood underneath me snapped. Alerted by the explosion, the fake bear barely had time to register at the oncoming threat. In the brief moment it still had eyes, it was able to make out the two talon-like protrusions joined to the body's thumbs.
With a great wail of pain, it worked to try and throw off the threat that'd blinded it, but all I did was forced the fingers in deeper. It wasn't the same as a human's cry of pain and I felt little more than frustration as I pressed deep enough to lodge the steel blades into where its brain would've been.
Finally having enough, I pulled both palms back, allowing momentum to launch me away from the beast. The body was thrown horizontally into a tree, the lower back bending in a way that triggered the biosensors that monitored for life. Glancing at the panel, I noted the damage wasn't too bad and that he'd keep running.
The Ursa, not so much. As I forced the head to turn and observe, it'd already fallen and was twitching. No doubt, it was but a bundle of nerves by this point.
Conveniently, the tree the body had collided with was behind some bushes. Good, the scorpion wouldn't be able to see. Carefully, I had it roll onto its stomach, and then began making a show of dragging my way towards the dying Grimm.
At the same time, I noted the blips at the edge of my vision that were steadily growing. Hassan was near, good. I let slip a data package using the neural link, with a picture of the hidden beast close by.
As I approached, I finally stood, making a scene of me hunched over one side. The Ursa was dead by this point and was slowly being scattered into the wind, no doubt becoming nothing.
The body made a motion of haggardness. Perhaps the recoil behind the injury was much more severe than I thought. No matter, that can be fixed-
SHRIEEK!
I barely had time to force a roll before the Deathstalker's stinger impacted where the body had been. A second and third roll followed as it tried to avoid getting scissored in two by massive claws. As I forced the body to straighten up into a defensive position, I got my first clean look at the Deathstalker that'd been in hiding.
I'd seen a few out in the sands too, but like most of their kind, they were all large, isolationist creatures that'd even attack other Grimm stepping onto their turf. However, they were all smart and knew how to trail a victim for days before striking.
This one was no different but had the fatal flaw of being too young for what it'd wanted to do and too eager to execute it. Even with the advantage of my enhanced sight, I'd have difficulty trying to avoid getting this body killed against the fully grown brethren.
As it stood, the beast and I were locked in a deadly staring game. It'd lost the element of surprise; it knew but was too driven by its purpose to back down.
Shame.
A whirr was heard closing in before the first buggy appeared out from behind. Then, the second buggy appeared. Both opened fire with their mounted LMGs and slowly drove the creature back with controlled bursts. Try as it might to stay defiant and screech back, it only earned even more trouble for its efforts.
The audio receptors picked up a thump before an explosion rocked the beast. It screeched in anger and earned another two for it. Crossing hands over the chest, I continued watching as the Grimm began to backpedal too late, and a single rocket zoomed past me to end it once and for all.
Rustling filled behind me as a figure came out and stood beside me. The grenade launcher attached to his rifle still trailing wisps of smoke.
"Had your fun, sir?" came the snide from the man.
"Good enough. Anything worthwhile to report?" I answered back.
Hassan shrugged. "No casualties. Convoy pushed past us as we were dealing with this bunch. They should be waiting to close the doors by the time we arrive."
I nodded. "Apologies for getting carried away then. Let's get to the base before Rain decides to keep us out for the night."
"Sir," acknowledged the trooper before leaving.
Sparing one last look at the smoking remains, I made to climb onto the frame of one of the buggies. The crew spared one look and nod at me as I piggybacked on the vehicle, and I returned the gesture wordlessly.
As we began to move, I craned my head to spare a look at my surroundings once more. Blinking, I realised once more how…. Unfeeling it all was.
Dammit, Rain, couldn't you've answered a bit more grounded what the air feels like.
A sighed escaped my gaping mouth.
It took us the better part of an hour to reach the base.
My men grumbled more when I insisted on making extra sure our traces were covered. At least, as much covered as we could afford, given we were supposed to be apart of a much larger movement all things considered. If the men in charge of this region of the world were as competent as their dossiers made them out to be, then mine orders would've been for naught which was fine in context.
The buggy the body rode on cleared the remaining distance with a metallic splash, courtesy of the ramp it launched off to cross the last distance to the finish line. Invisible fingers gripped tighter the frame of the vehicle the body hung off of.
As the machine slowed down, I silently thanked Hassan for his recent actions and told him and his unit to get some rest. The officer gave a simple respond and began ordering dismount.
With long steps I crossed the enclosed space of the underground. This giant motor pool was the product of over a decade of work. Concrete and natural stone seemed to blend together, save for where care was taken to seal the nooks and crevices. A cursory glance at the index tab told me the air was supposedly 'comfortable' enough, with an elaborate ventilation in place to ensure no one risked suffocation and related health problems in the long run.
Technicians and the like moved to and fro, completely unaware of the imperceptible figure in their mist who carefully observed them. Occasionally, some of the more sensitive individuals might have the awareness to feel as if their being watched, but otherwise it was to no avail.
Idle talk: the songs of a crowd was in the air, mixed with more informal requests and banter. I noted them all with the same fascination that took me some thirty years ago. At some point, it really occurred to me that many of these people were once real. They were born, grew and died. Alas, that last one had not been without tragedy for many.
One admitted draw back of my current state was that I could no longer blend in with the men as another faceless worker. However short lived that moment in my tenure was. Now, most would recognise the helm I and the body wore.
Eventually, the idle talk began to give away to something more formal and tense. This, I knew, meant I was on the right path.
She was waiting for me near an elevator. Sitting on a crate with her back to the BTR she'd arrived in. Her own squad was around her, standing at attention, but with a relaxed tone. A claw brushed on the sergeant's shoulder. A gesture he knew from past experience that my presence was here.
"You do realise that we're late for the meeting?" came the dissatisfied query, vision still focused on her data pad.
"Those men already have their assumptions on me. I see no reason to change until we meet eye-to-eye."
A sigh. "One of these days, you're theatrics-"
"Don't finish that sentence," I gently interrupted. "Come, let's meet these men who've carved a kingdom of their own in these wilds."
"Yes, Master," standing up she moved to the closed doors of the elevator. Her own squad moving with her, mindful of the unseen figure in their midst.
The elevator we used to ascend was one of many that led to a sort of 'main level' for what the base known as Fort Shimon. Said base was built into a gap of the earth, with the mobile command centre itself acting as a bridge for both sides. In the decades long past, back when we first learned of this happening, I recalled the huge fit thrown from both the expedition leaders and those of us back at the First City. Suffice to say, it was far from one of my finest days in service to the Brotherhood.
Nonetheless, Fort Shimon found use in being an easily defended passage for further push into the west of Mistral from the south. The crevice itself was situated where traversal past the mountain range was easiest. In time, the expeditionary force had taken care in camouflaging the mobile command vehicle, as well as constructing additional assets and support structures where needed.
As me and my own entourage walked past the numerous faces going about their lives, it was easy to see how many of them had a look mixed between wariness and subdued. Granted, it was mostly them looking at Rain and less at me, given that none could pierce the stealth tech veiling me.
THRAM!
I reeled. The enclosed world shook. The tube stabbed and deepthroated into my neck. Wet and bubbles filled my mouth, and I became blurrily aware that my vision was swimming amidst pain and tears.
Breathe.
By virtue of experience, I could manipulate my lower jaw with what little ligament still remained and gently push and heave the instrument out from its burrow in my windpipe.
Only when did the whole apparatus nearly come sliding off did my mind finally cleared from the pain haze enough to warn me that my back wasn't exactly parallel with the ground. No, my weight was being pushed on its side, crushing my right arm. It wasn't painful, but it was discomforting.
'Wait,' I blinked. 'If I'm on the side, then that means.'
The body was moving before I fully registered my own thoughts. It shouldn't be too surprising, but the loss of control still stung a bit in my delirium. The vision it showed displayed the dropped crate on its side, centimetres from the edge of the chasm.
Only when a hand appeared from the edge of the screen did I realise the body had even dropped the cloak. I opened a new set of tabs and began eyeing the crowd. As expected, 'my' sudden appearance was causing a stir. A rather angry aide of mine was also approaching the scene.
Turning one of the cameras to face the two men who'd been handling the crate, I replied with the only warning that was worthwhile.
"This is your only permissible mistake. From now on, you'll probably wish for death permanently."
They looked at the body as it began pushing the crate away from the edge. Their eyes danced between me and the men who approached them and turned them around. The mechanical click of handcuffs was perhaps the first sign that made them realise how grave anerror they've made.
Eventually, the box was pushed away enough that Rain's guards could circle around it and push back right side up. Assuming control once more, I laid a hand on the surface, and initiated the scanning subroutines, finding no identifiable damage. Again, an expected outcome.
"Better get going, boss. We'll handle this."
Stana was here. One glimpse, and I noted his rapidly approaching form, along with some of his subordinates. Shame his break had been interrupted. I'll have to see about rewarding him later.
Sparing a glance at Rain, I motioned for her to follow and continue our own duties. Her face was that of calm fury, and I'll be sure to let her have her way reassigning those unfortunate men later.
As I began climbing the ramp leading up into the belly of the Mobile Command Centre, one last thought occurred to me.
'If I was there just now, then wouldn't that mean…'
"SCERBBRAAALLEE!"
The head snapped to the sound. No doubt about it, there'd been several more crates nearby the one that'd fallen. Like the first one, these were marked as topmost priority and had the TibHazMat symbol for additional sign of importance.
One of the four was also moving on its own. No, it was more accurate to say the reinforced steel, very heavy box was being moved by whatever was inside, and said thing was very upheaved.
"What the fuck?" I heard someone through the speakers.
"It's nothing to worry about," I quickly broke the silence. "Sargeant Stana is there, and he will oversee the handling of those items. I suggest the rest of you aid him if you wisht to avoid punishment."
With that, I pressed on. Cloak once more concealing the body as we made our way to the elevator at one end of the bulkhead.
Not even a day in, and already twice I'm reminded of my circumstances for forty years. As it was, I was too tired to even curse.
An hour late was certainly unacceptable.
I wouldn't like it, and most certainly others wouldn't too.
However, sly leadership wasn't built on niceties, and the men I'd assign for this faraway post from me were far from being paragons.
Being an hour late sent the message that I didn't care for manners, and that I certainly didn't care for any smiles that weren't the genuine kind.
So, as I entered the assigned meeting room, I became greeted with the faces of well over a dozen men who had varying degrees of annoyance to nonchalance. Truly, their looks matched what their dossiers would describe them, and I quickly focused my attention to three men at the far end.
Colonel Curran Amaris. Once general but now demoted to a station I found more suited him. Ambitious and very ruthless, but there was methodology, and he seemed to lack the sheer zeal other people of his station had. Trading it for brutal pragmatism and a utilitarian approach to problem solving. He was singled out earlier but developed much later after we had a feel for the land beyond the deserts.
His second, a native with a great deal of importance to the realm we now know was Mistral. A walking blackmail tool for the once ruling Courts that once governed the capital and its satellites. The Sisterhood mentioned he was malleable to the cause, but care is to be given as he had an outburst half a decade or so back.
The reason for said outburst had also to do with the third most interesting man in the room. Colonel Pagan Ming. A warlord in all but name. Pressed into Brotherhood service and climbed all the way into its regular force during the Second Tiberium War. He fought in what can be considered as the backyard of that conflict. However, his threat level was notable to both friend and foe alike. I wonder how many his death company has already torched by this point.
Everyone else in this room had played their own roles as far as I was concerned. Still, it wouldn't be too problematic to pay them a personal visit in the near future once we were settled.
"Gentlemen," Rain greeted. "We appreciate your punctuality on being here today. Allow this to be your reward for your patience."
All eyes were on Rain as she linked her WMT to the table in front of us. At present, it was a blank slate, but with a few inputs, it came to life and displayed a grid mapping. Those in the room began sharing glances, knowing what was to happen next except for the one native amongst them.
A sense of nostalgia filled me upon seeing a familiar startup along with the complementary data logs and imagery linked with schematics and plans. The table's built-in speakers spoke in a familiar voice that had been one of the few I could call as reliable company in this world.
"Installation complete. Welcome back, commander."
"Yes, welcome back indeed."
Thirteen pairs of eyes snapped to the air beside Rain. Or rather, they were looking at the approximate area I was in. Amusement filled my chest and I began pacing around the room. My form still not visible.
"Men, you've done well. You've seen to it all the established objectives for the campaign are accomplished. The Brotherhood has a foothold on this world, but to say we've peaked as a force of reckoning is rather hubris of me. The time to strike is coming, but it is still elusive us as of now."
A panel opened as I spoke. EVA had been given additional orders in her packaging to begin spreading to the other bases as soon as she was installed into her first server. If the reports held true, then we didn't have to worry over anyone noticing the high burst of transmission this far south. Or even if they did, then there were contingencies in place to wave it off as mishaps.
Of course, the interesting thing to note here was that I myself am linked into EVA in a rather, symbiotic fashion. Where she was, so am I, and I could almost see the drips of sweat on some of the officers in the room as they tried to figure out if I was in the same room as them, or not.
"Our plans are about to enter the next phase. As part of your reward, I'm assigning you to new tasks that I've deemed of importance. In addition, you'll be given some other things as well, and I trust that you'll know best on how to use them."
My speech was paced along with my strides, and as I completed my circuit, Rain stepped aside, allowing me to take centre stage. My stealth field dispelled, and the face of the commander took shape before them.
I studied their reactions. None showed abject fear, good. Fearlessness was a strong trait for this world, but the trepidation in the one on my right and closest to me was acceptable. Afterall, his leader was before him in flesh unlike the others.
"But first, I wish for you to tell me for yourselves about what you've learned so far. Tell me of this world, the people and what you all think of it thus far. I would very much like to keep my ears to the ground where applicable."
It was one thing to hear reports, but another to hear from the people in person. Written words often hide the underlying emotion felt or used in an action. Intention was easily slipped past when there is a gap between leader to subordinate that's measured in hundreds of kilometres.
Time I didn't spent on the front was spent on consolidating my own powerbase in the desert. I'd also taken time to thoroughly catch up on my own training and induction into the Brotherhood. No longer would precious moments be spent on the shock of participating in atrocities no matter how indirectly.
"The natives, damn their souls, resisted us on occasion. Thus, forcing us to take action as necessary. As per your orders, we acted under the disguise of bandits and savages."
"Not too intimate, I hope?"
Curran shook his head. "Impersonal and with a healthy distance, as you requested."
Good. Last thing I want is more of those abominations. Those mothers need not bear children with their father's memories, and that of his many incarnations.
I turned to Ming, and asked, "What's your opinion on their force strength?"
"Don't overestimate them, sir. They're largely pathetic. Some might show a bit more spectacle than others, but I've seen shiners who put up longer fights, and with spears and clubs. Soul projection? Utter crap and fantasy."
Interesting. I motioned for Amaris to continue.
"…. Eventually, all our efforts amounted to a response from a high priority target. From what we were able to uncover, they were the leader of the capital's defence force and had come to the city of Kuchinashi to directly calm the unrest. They came with Huntsmen."
The head became inclined on one end, signifying my curiosity at the last line.
"These Huntsmen, I can't honestly say they were too significant of a threat for us. Their airship was intercepted via Surface-to-Air missile launched at close range. A deployed strike group consisting of forces led by my aide, and that of Colonel Ming were able to quickly eliminate the injured targets."
"And what of the one survivor?"
Ming was glaring at me through his impassive mask. His kind didn't like to be bothered, and they didn't like it when people prod their toys. If I hadn't known better, Nod put him in their payroll moreso to stop him from being a nuisance to them.
"Under my care, we have taken effort to extract as much information as we can. Familial background, sociopolitical, everything. We have everything down to the quality of students in that Academy of theirs. Its old info now, but from what we were able to piece together, we have a rather basic comprehension of their curriculum," responded the fiend in human skin.
"And is this survivor still alive?"
"… Of course, after contemplation, we decided it was in our best interest to keep them alive for as long as she wasn't too advanced in age."
"Show me."
Manipulating his own WMT, the colonel sent a data packet through the network to me. I made a show of shaking my wrist as a tab opened on my screen, showing a room that was most certainly someone's room rather than a cell, with a woman who seemed to be well into her early forties, haggard and broken.
God have mercy on the both of us.
I nodded, as there was all I could do. It was good that I wasn't there in person, and that the helm would've hid my expression. It would be troublesome to have to will my face to not contort at the implications.
"Ensure that her health is maintained. That is all," I remarked, hoping to sound as detached as possible.
Once more, the debrief continued. Ming lacked any hostility anymore, but that was more so a predator being sated not having its plaything stolen. The Major Zhou Enlai, on the other hand, seemed to have formed a baseline opinion of me.
What a gaffe, I'd hope to have a one-to-one with him before he appraised the depth of my own devilry.
"As it stands, we've done all we can to lay low and avoid provoking the attention of the capital city. Most interactions are handled strictly by the natives at Kuchinashi, who are under us by matter of proxy. Save for the representatives in power, most don't know they're under our thumb. They just think they're on equal and common grounds with us."
A snicker breached the silence. Amaris glared at the one who offended him, and I noted the muted apology sent his way.
"Very good," I praised. "Very good."
Very good indeed, they've done enough and now the real work can begin.
"Allow me to now unveil step two of our plan."
It was rather simple, really. We have a presence in the world, but savagery and barbarism wouldn't be enough. We needed to sell that, as well as more. That's where the second wave came in.
"Along with supplies to replenish the silos, we bring along with us those who will create a new merchant class to contend with the elites proper. Theirs is the artisans who will build and shape our foundations into something more alluring."
All at once, the officers noted the new notices on their WMTs.
"Some of you are to retain the play of cops and robbers, but others will be 'uplifted' to act as hired guns and protectors for our businessmen. There is no need to compare or share your info on your new respective assignments amongst peers unless authorised by me or my aide. However, here is what you will need to know."
I sent a new file to the projector table. It was mostly a 3D projection as well as released reports and imagery for the lower echelon.
"Efforts to stimulate the Tiberium under Khar Toba are successful. As of this moment, we have achieved Genesis."
Over a dozen eyes stared in amazement and awe at this new development. Poor Major Enlai was left perplexed and disoriented and left out of the conversation, alas he would have to remain as such until I could ascertain myself that he wasn't a loose end.
"In time, the cultivation group will be brought in to begin the spreading of Tiberium. However, it is imperative that nothing interrupts this plan. Lest we risk another incident like that of forty years ago."
"And what of it? Wouldn't a rapid spread like that be beneficial to the Brotherhood?" Ming spoke up.
'Are you afraid?' was the unspoken question.
"Colonel Ming, your zeal for our ways is commendable, but need I remind you that the Lazarus has no effect on those exposed to Tiberium contamination. Personnel, once exposed, can no longer be respawned from a Hand. It is also proven that Visceroids retain their consciousness."
A simple thought, and the mandibles of the helm revealed themselves. They appeared from beneath where a person's cheeks would have been.
Ming withdrew himself. I made a mental note to have him dealt with first albeit I begrudgingly thought so.
"Continuing on, direct security of the cultivation group will be handled by the Black Hand. This ends any information regarding the groups existence, and there will be no more provided unless I state otherwise."
Making a show of gently rolling my shoulders, I retracted the mandibles into the helm. I then made a visual sweep of all the faces present, noting each one.
"That is all, this meeting is adjourned. Expect a…. personal visit from me in the near future. Until then, carry on and make preparations if you must for what is to come. Remember, all this, is for the Brotherhood. For Peace. And for Unity."
Raising my hands in front of me, I swept them out.
"Kane's Will."
In response, the gathered each gave me a chest salute.
"Kane's Will!"
With that, their images faded. Save for one.
The commander for Fort Shimon turned to face his superiors. His Adam's apple visibly swelling and subsiding. Inhaling, he seemed to resign himself to his next course of action.
"Welcome to Fort Shimon, sirs. I apologise for not being there to welcome you when you first arrived. If there's anything I could be of use to you, please ask."
"None taken," I answered. "Our action was…. Deliberate. A gauge on the readiness of our forces here. Thus far, it's… admirable safe for one incident."
If he paled, then the dim red light of the room seemed to hide it somewhat, but I noticed the nod he gave was far from confident.
"Nonetheless, I will overlook any incident. My aide will oversee the peculiarities of our stay here, as well as the overarching plans in the coming days. All I ask is, be prepared."
"As you wish, Commander," answered the man with a chest salute.
Turning to Rain, we both shared a silent conversation. The body then turned and made to leave, whereas she stayed behind to discuss details with the base commander.
Once I reached the elevator, it only took a mere thought, and the lift began to descent to the main bay of the mobile headquarters. As it did so, I open a hail to one of my personal retinues.
"Stana, sitrep."
"Package secured away in the private quarters. Our sweep is clean, and we're just getting ourselves settled down."
"How's the feel of the base so far? Your input?"
"To be frank? We've done enough to put a new order for fresh pants. Staff are sharp, for the most part, but I've yet to see what the combat teams here are like."
I mulled a bit before I sent a response.
"Do the rounds, make some noise. I want to know just how much we've to do if the men here are lacking. Also, I want you to send a squad to check the other bases as well ahead of my own inspection."
"Think these guys have too many skeletons in the closet?"
"I'm counting on that, but it's what else they've got stored away that concerns me."
"Understood sir. I'm guessing this means I've to send the men through the Sisters?"
"Positive, I'm heading to meet them right away myself."
"Copy, out."
With that, the line was cut. It was just in time as the elevators opened and I was greeted with the massive bay of the now immobile machine.
A number of eyes were immediately upon me. They recognised the helm the body wore from their training regimen, but for many it'd be the first time seeing me. Some stood there, with wide eyes and mouth. Others froze mid-task. A few snapped to attention.
"Back to work. You're not earning a commendation for stroking my limp dick."
My voice emanated over numerous speakers….
Admittedly, I may have overdone it, seeing as how most of them visibly jumped upon hearing their devices hijacked along with the speakers in the bay. Yet, the act served the greater purpose and things slowly resumed around me.
I breathed. The subtle sounds of machinery whirred near and far from me. I spared a brief look away from the screen, my eyes casting glances along the peripheries.
I wanted out of this damn box as soon as possible.
"Sir, if you don't mind?"
Hearing the voice, I turned the head to look at the source.
The badges on her shoulders marked her as an officer. Particularly, the comm variant. She had a look of awe, but also the rather normal fear one would come to expect from having to engage with a superior.
"Yes," I breathed. "Continue, and sorry for the impediment."
I stepped aside and noticed that a few others were following in her wake. Checking the time, I realised this must've been the regular staff change. A mild intrigue, but nothing worth of note.
Sparing one last appreciation for the surrounding men and women, I made to move myself. The day was waning, and I would not be found wanting if it ended before my own tasks were complete.
It was a room bathed in red.
Black veins like roots that spread along the walls and seeped into the floors.
My usual vision made it difficult. I willed for the helm to be retracted, allowing the more sensitive optics to be exposed. My lips contorted around the tube. Irked.
"Our dear commander has come to visit us."
I turned to the left. A veil figure stood there.
"Our humblest apologies for not being there to greet you in person," they said with a half-bow.
The ire within me died down. "Rise. I need not anymore gerrymander. I came to ask for a report."
"As you wish," and so the figure straightened. "Come, we will talk within."
I obliged and followed deeper into the Shrine. The halls and their fibreglass walls were designed to be as nauseating as possible the deeper within you go. It only made sense to the inhabitants, and even then, one wrong step landed you death.
However, it wasn't necessarily devoid of human touch. The usual array of trinkets were everywhere. A harmless culture amongst Noddist. It is believed the small effigies will keep one alive, whether in spirit or memory. Occasionally, they said when your personal effigy falls, that meant you had escaped a deathblow. Hence, it was in one's interest to make regular visits to ensure you trinket remained undisturbed.
A small part of me marvelled at the ones I saw as we walked. It was almost too easy to tell who was from Remnant, and who was not by a mere glance the small things. My men had brought with them the culture of their homeworld, and the new initiates theirs. Rosary beads were hung next to carvings of Grimm, with commonality only found in the dogtags that were tied to each respectively.
It was tempting to not reach out and touch one.
"Your interested in the trinkets?" voiced the figure in front.
"Stories tell where even words fail. There are many here."
"The locals were a fairly easy rabble to be charmed. Alas, it will be a generation or two more before we can reap the harvest. Most cling to their old masters, wanting answers for their injustice."
"Will they find them?"
The figure chuckled. It was something that never failed to make my hairs stand on end.
"Most certainly not."
"The men are eager. Their hunger tempts them. Unsatiated for too long, and even we may not be able to control them."
"I will not risk bringing in more disciplined forces until we have a firmer foothold. As is, the chaos the current men bring plays well."
"Do you realise just how fortunate we are that not a single one of our men has been captured thus far? Even with the Lazarus, there is no guarantee what our enemies could do to break a soldier's psyche."
"All the more so we rely on militia and not regulars."
Both me and the Confessor adjusted ourselves in our seats. The latter leaned forward, his elongated headpiece made him look inhuman under the dim red lighting.
"You have a strange way of thinking, commander," remarked the man, his voice rough. "I've met my share of insane commanders, but you seem neither there nor here."
"Since when has sanity been a prerequisite for leadership in general?"
Something that could've been laughter escaped the man, but it sounded more like a car engine failing to start.
"That's true," he paused before continuing. "So what else do you wish to know?"
"The people here. What's your opinion?"
"For a collective that places so much emphasis on positivity and individualism, it falls surprisingly short of both," replied the man. "My clergy has had to work almost twice as much to actually keep track of who's who because of how many people share the same name. That says a lot given what we had to work with back in the old world."
I stared through the screen at his words. That was indeed a curious case.
"How does this influence our posturing to the masses?"
The man allowed for only the barest of hesitation before answering.
"For one, this world's most calamitous threat -the Grimm- is one that has existed since this world's founding. If the descriptions and legends you sent are to be believed, then it would seem our enemy is one that has taken painstaking effort to engineer a believable sense of security through forced optimism. It is of no secret that the Brotherhood is on the side of those who fight injustice, but this dilemma with the dark creatures proves to be no less an interesting conundrum."
The man adjusted his stance once more, propping his head on his clasped hands.
"They wish not to feel fear. To not feel anger. To not feel hate. Yet, they still feel some sense of desperation, a need of force and a deep desire to cast blame. These we can use, as seen in the Kuchisnashi uprising."
I nodded. "Continue."
"However, we've had enough time in these past twenty years to prove that the people here are human. This includes the Faunus aberrants."
"…. You've encountered them?"
A brief staring contest occurred, then something akin to a low growl escaped the man.
"It would seem some of the reports made by command are incomplete."
"Explain, now."
The Confessor explained of the one known as the Steward of Mistral. How he existed as the last of the old rule for the kingdom following the Queen's demise.
It was yet another unforeseen lore of this world.
"The man is dead as far as we can tell. None of our agents in what is now the defunct Court know of any particular group that would've wanted him alive. We have only to contend with the Council itself."
"And what of, other Faunus?"
"We were able to locate with our external agents that a sizeable slum exists. Its hidden away from public eye and is connected to the city's underground. Their use ranges from workers on the redlight district to the non-existent kind of work."
The body remained still as I pondered on the response, my sight cross referencing it with other accumulated data from both the earlier debriefing and the reports from Rain. Glancing occasionally at the Confessor, I noted how his own tense poise. An almost perfect mirror man.
"For now, focus on maintaining our build-up of loyalists and followers. I'm enabling an edict for expanded healthcare and other welfare actions."
Tilting his head, the Confessor pressed, "That's rather generous of you, sir. But you should know that uplifting the people would make it harder to provoke a response from them when the time is needed."
"I need more than just angry mobs. Bring me men and women who are educated to fight and stand. That's how we ensure Nod's survival in this world."
"Be that as it may," the cleric rasped-murmured. "What you ask will require time. Are you sure you wish to pursue our endeavours this way?"
"Time is what we have most. Time is all we need."
With that, I concluded our matters. It was as I was being escorted out that my guide happened to ask of me.
"Sir, if I may ask, just what exactly is your personal goal on this world?"
I turned to him. From over my shoulder, I could only make out bits and pieces of their features; what wasn't largely concealed behind the shrouds of lowlight and cloth spoke of half-honest inquiry.
"The same as all others. To forward his goal. Worry not, for I shall see this through."
Tremors.
Tremors nonstop. Unending. Frigid, binding. A skeleton that wishes to escape its meat suit.
Spasm rocked and I felt a bright flash in my mind that translated itself into a deafening noise in my frontal lob.
Splotches in my vision.
White.
My retinas burned under the flash. I could not hear, only feel as I whined. My skin retracted, curled and shrunk into itself; coincidentally wrapping around the meat and bones that had stilled.
The great white was eclipsed. A black, translucent layer overshadowed my sight and grew until it enveloped my face. The layer pressed upon me, and my head was gently pushed back down onto the surface under me.
A click, and in reflex I bit the tube. I welcomed the sensation of altered air blown down my neck. The cool of which tickled my lungs.
The beats of my heart began to recede. Blinking, I adjusted to the lowlight once more. Gloom took over, and I felt the old worm of resentment within me.
A hand reached out. It was the same hand that helped put on the mask. The same that hand that had aided me in all my years in this world.
I took it in a firm grasp.
Even after all these years, I never got used to the damn paste.
The medi-techs had worked on introducing flavour, but it was all almost for naught. The bitterness I felt at the back of my dry tongue was preferable to the probability of a bloated stomach.
To distract myself, I'd begun looking into all the available data and comparing them to the larger plans. The room was warm, the only kind of temperature I'd tolerate outside of my full attire. The equally warm orange lighting was also another personal comfort.
Someone had taken plenty of effort to ensure my mood was right.
With a subtle, wet, squeal, the paste packet was finally emptied. I removed it and tossed it on the table and continued my read, ignoring the phantom gnaw in my stomach.
A detail then caught my eye.
"Rain, is it just me, or is the region here much less developed then we predicted?"
"Definitely seems the case. Although, it's hard to determine whether that was caused by our intervention or not."
"It's getting me worried. There's so much fog around here, we wouldn't even know if it us whose being watched and not the other way around."
"Well, those fears are far too late at this point. If either Salem, or Ozpin have made moves, they surely haven't done anything that would warrant an alarm."
Letting out a dissatisfied grunt, I triggered the humidifier within my mouth. Idly, I fiddled with the injector, the rubber meant to protect both metal and teeth was already halfway in need of replacing.
"The Turok unit is going to have plenty of work getting set up," I noted. "However, that isn't what concerns me, I know I gave White the green light on seeding Tiberium here, but it still worries me that we're setting them so close to the bases."
"We could delay that project, but that would cause resource issues," my aide pointed out. "Khar Toba can't sustain the logistics with out current stealth protocols. In addition, we still need to ship back healthier samples so that we can further reinvigorate the deposit back home."
I nodded, not feeling the need to add.
It was well into the twilight hours that both of us finally opted to call it a night and sleep. In three hours, we'd be awake again and going about our business. For now, we took solace in our shared quarters.
My 'bed' if you will, was more akin to a fixed berth more fitted for an autopsy. It even had an inlay, albeit deeper to allow more water for me to be submerged in. A necessity since Mutants apparently dropped little contaminant particles like dandruff when the skin is too dry.
She was there too. Her bed was a regular foldable chair with a reclining feature. She took my hand in hers, and we drifted off to sleep.
My mind receded into a comforting cold.
A/N: AAaand done, I'm back with a new chap. Sem breaks in, but the final stretch of this journey is still long.
So, not much action here as we deal with the aftermath with Kuchinashi. However, rest assured, I'm fixing that next chap. I'm itching for writing action myself, so next chap should be just plain action and we get to see some warcrimes or something. We'll get back to plot progression right after.
And thanks to those who stick around and continue to read, you're all good people, hopefully. Have a happy year's end and new year!