Athena IC

[Anowa]

Murphy sighed, "The problem is that if they lose said weapon on the field and someone isn't notified, than the problem ends up snowballing until we don't have any guns anymore, and if that happens it tends to be bad. I spent the entire morning figuring out who took what, filling out a requisition sheet to get the ammo we need, as well as replacements for the equipment Lance Corporal Yurivich damaged, and when I finally finish and put up the sign out sheet, the sheet people fill out when they take something from the armory, more soldiers pour in and take more equipment and ammo from the armory and don't sign it out, which leads to me almost having an aneurism and the conversation we're having now, Sir."

Pier turned back to his computer and began typing casually. With a gesture of finality, he hit the Print icon and the device in the corner of his office whirred to life. Multiple copies of a document spat out.


GENERAL NOTICE

Under battlefield conditions, ATHENA troopers are expected to keep their weapons and equipment in general good condition. If this is not possible, please report immediately to the quartermaster or his designated assistant so replacements can be ordered. Use of personal weapons is not recommended due to the need to standardize ammunition supply and the fact that we are not responsible for replacements.

Additionally, please remember to sign out any equipment from the armory before leaving. Failure to do so will result in administrative action.

PIER L
CMDR - ATHENA

"Please have the base staff post these in the common areas, the armory, and the dormitories," the Commander instructed. "Was there anything else?"

Murphy snapped a lazy salute, "No sir that was all I needed." I turned and walked out of the office and back towards the armory only to find a case of empty casings for 40mm grenades... I felt warm then I blacked out.

Cpl. Wolfram Herrman
I noticed the Quarter master had just collapsed after turning red, I'm talking tomato red, it was odd, walking over to him I checked his pulse to make sure he didn't have a heart attack and then, picked him up into a fireman's carry, walking through the halls I passed a red faced woman wearing a rather... transparent tank top, I pondered thought to myself, 'the base is off it's rocker today, huh? I arrived in the mad bay and dropped the large man into one of the beds, turning to the CMO ,who was staring at me with a single eyebrow raised, I spoke, "he passed out after turning alarmingly red." I then left the bay and continued back towards the armory... only to find it locked. I turned and went outside to start jogging, midway through the jog I began thinking of how fucked humanity is.

[Cerrania]

First Lieutenant Aaron McLaughlin
Oosterscheldekering Dam
Reception Day

Clack, clack, clack. The sharp tapping of Aaron's shoes against the tiled floor in the silent hallway did nothing to calm Aaron's nerves. He scoffed at himself. A graduate of the Naval Academy, a Marine, and a Navy SEAL. And he was nervous? Yet, he felt he had a good reason for anxiety. He was meeting a new team of soldiers, after 6 years with the same guys. Fighting the same enemy, shedding the same blood, and mourning the same lost comrades. He had deep connections with those men. What did he have with these ATHENA folk? Next to nothing, other than that they were going to be stuck in the same cave together. Though, despite his doubts, he scolded himself for this attitude. There was no reason to resign himself to disliking this program yet. And after all, he was the one who signed the contract to join the strike force.

"I can only hope and pray." Aaron mumbled to himself as he pushed open a door that said Entrance. Looking around, the view almost took his breath away as he craned his neck to look up, down, and all around. The area was massive, and filled with all sorts of modern technology. Buzzes, whirs, and other mechanical sounds filled the cavern with white noise. A bit of Aaron's doubt seemed to be whisked away. With facilities this advanced, how could the soldiers not be well-trained?

After several minutes of gawking at the facilities, Aaron began to notice the weight of the bag on his shoulder. He chuckled to himself, figuring it was probably the library that he brought to occupy his time. Starting forward, he walked quickly and followed the signs until he came upon the Officer's Quarters. After a moment searching, he found a room with his name on it.

MCLAUGHLIN, AARON. 1ST LT, HUNTER

Looking at the doors to his left and right, he found two other lieutenants. A one Galila Meldola, and another 1st Lieutenant named Marloes de Ruyter. Stepping inside his own room, he barely took time to look around before setting his bag down on the bed and fishing out the book he was currently reading. Finding his way to the Rec Lounge, Aaron sat in the most comfortable chair he saw and began to engross himself in the words.

[Monfrox]

Netherlands, Europe
Somewhere along N57
1750 Hours

Transfer
The drive from Ramnstein Airbase had been a long one in the back of a five ton truck. One of the new transferred officers had opted that she quote "did not need a fancy car to drive her there" and "preferred to be treated like the other soldiers". With that attitude, she managed to land a seat on the back bench of the American M939A2 that was used as a transport into the Athena base for regular troops. The officer, a tall woman with jet black hair that was cut short and had a long flow over her left eye, was trying to catch up on lost sleep from the flight over from Israel. At least the Americans were always so accommodating, though it wasn't hard to see why they would be with a woman of her nationality. She always held admiration for the Americans and there support for the country.

However, trying to doze off in a troop truck was a feat in and of itself. With the hard floor and bench combined with the driver hitting just about every bump on the road he could possibly find, the officer found it incredibly difficult to get any shut eye in at all. Still, at least she could rest her eyes for the time being. She had been on the road for more than four hours now, so she thought she'd be there by now. A quick rapping on the back window, intended to wake her up if she had been napping, seemed to answer her question. The truck pulled up and into the base as she stretched out. She was still wearing her old IDF uniform for now, which she fought tooth and nail to have for the trip at the very least. After hopping out of the back, she donned her striking red beret that was a symbol of her Special Forces service. The driver gave her some quick directions - Mainly "Head to the left and take the elevator all the way down". She did just that.

Preparation
The officer strode onward after the American truck revved up and went on it's way and got into the elevator. She couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like to be there. Surely there were others here. She was told that it was a multinational team so far, but that meant that unless everyone knew how to speak some sort of English, then she was going to hit a language barrier. She didn't need any communication problems on her first day with her subordinates. She also hoped that many of them had the same sense of respect she had for fellow soldiers. At least with it being multinational, there was a slim chance she'd see another Israeli there. If not, it didn't matter to her. She wasn't here to socialize. She was recruited for a specific task and that's exactly what she would follow through to do as she saw fit.

She rested her hand on her personal weapon that fit snugly in her holster. Her sidearm was a BUL M-5 Government chambered in .45 ACP that had belonged to her father. She used it in place of the Jericho 941 and Glock 19 when she was in service with the IDF. Now, she casually marched through the long corridors lining the underground base. She looked around to assess the systems and conditions of the facility as she made for the Commander's office. There seemed to be a distinct lack of activity given around the area, but perhaps she came in during an Operation in progress. That made sense. Though this seemed to be a very well-maintained building, and a well-equipped one at that. There were a lot of things here, though she seemed to think there would a lot more around as she turned into the administration wing and walked until she found the Commander's office.

The officer knocked on the door very deftly and waited for the inevitable "Enter" to come from the other side. Once it did, she calmly swung the door open and squared the corners en route to stand at the front of the desk, where upon reaching it she snapped a salute.

"Segen Mishneh Galila Meldola, sir." She stated firmly in a slight Hebrew accent.

[Tiltjuice]

Commander Pier looked up from his desk to see another new arrival, a tall Israeli woman in their characteristic olive green uniform. The papers on the desk - her file - were set aside and he motioned for Galila to at-ease, and take a seat if she wished.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. You came highly recommended, like the rest of ATHENA's recruits and applicants, so I'll assume you know what you're doing unless proven otherwise. As yet, there isn't any formal organization to the Program; missions are run according to trooper availability. We try to pick participants for missions based on needs and what we anticipate the op force to be.

Do you have any questions for me?"

He steepled his fingers as he awaited her answer.

[Monfrox]

"Just a few, sir. How many others here are from Israel, what kind of uniforms will we be given, and who will be placed under my command." Galila didn't really ask the questions so much as she just stated them. She stood at parade rest as she studied her new commander. An older man, but wisdom comes with age. Surely they were in good hands. She didn't want to doubt him, but she wasn't making any assumptions either. In time, she would see how he went about his duties. Though she'd need to get a new uniform soon, as well as some gear and a new weapon. At least they let her keep her BUL M-5, not like she'd go anywhere without it. She had pushed the envelope with the Athena surveyors as far as what they wanted. She knew she was an excellent soldier, as was the rest of her former unit, so she used that as a sort of leverage to keep things from being a total culture shock when she changed over.

[Anowa]

Cpl. Wolfram Herrman and Spec, Wladyslav Kowalski
the two soldiers sat at the same table talking about how... boring things at the base were, they both knew there was a mission ongoing but they had no clue as to what was happening, right now they were going through stories of their time in the military, more specifically: Basic. "... So sarge has got the knife hand right? and he's still screaming at this poor bastard, 'give me five and you can stand back up' I could see the thought process in his head as he looked from Sarge's hand back to me and back to sarge, so what this this stupid fuck reaches up and gives Sarge a high-five, I'm staring at him, Sarge is staring at him, the entire barracks is staring at him then sarge just explodes into a flurry of questions all relating to why he just slapped his hand, so the kid goes 'Sir, because you said if I gave you five you'd let me stand, Sir.' and everything goes silent again, until I start laughing trying, very poorly, not to make any noise, then the entire barracks just burst out even the sarge started laughing," both men finally burst out into laughter. after calming down Wolfram spoke, "anyway yeah, probably the highlight of basic for me." I took a swig of beer.
the Pole replied still guffawing "so what happened to the kid, any other stories of his foolery?"
I sobered up a bit, "naw, we got deplyoed into the same unit, shipped over to Afghanistan, first week in the sandbox kid gets killed in a firefight, round barely missed his helmet, drilled straight through his brain, died instantly."
Wladyslav also sobered, he raised his own drink, "to the dead."
"to the dead."
*Clink*
they continued swapping stories of the general shenanigans of their service late into the day.

[Tiltjuice]

"Just a few, sir. How many others here are from Israel, what kind of uniforms will we be given, and who will be placed under my command." Galila didn't really ask the questions so much as she just stated them. She stood at parade rest as she studied her new commander. An older man, but wisdom comes with age. Surely they were in good hands. She didn't want to doubt him, but she wasn't making any assumptions either. In time, she would see how he went about his duties. Though she'd need to get a new uniform soon, as well as some gear and a new weapon. At least they let her keep her BUL M-5, not like she'd go anywhere without it. She had pushed the envelope with the Athena surveyors as far as what they wanted. She knew she was an excellent soldier, as was the rest of her former unit, so she used that as a sort of leverage to keep things from being a total culture shock when she changed over.

"At the moment there are only yourself and Corporal Dobias from Israel." Pier leaned back, the deskchair squeaking slightly as it took his weight. "At ATHENA, there are no formal commands. We trust everyone to be, and to do, their best, and so we call up members for missions based only on what opposition we expect to face. Whichever officer is available to lead a mission is assigned to it."

There came a knock on the door and Pier gave the permission to come in. A youthful-looking Chinese man a couple of inches shorter than Galila slipped inside and braced to attention, giving a British-style salute. The drab uniform's color was very similar to Galila's IDF attire, with the exception of the HKSAR flag on its shoulders and back.

"This is Station Sergeant Gareth Tang from the Hong Kong Police. He's one of our medics and will get you your ATHENA uniform. Sergeant, this is 2nd Lieutenant Galila Meldola, IDF. Please get her settled in, take her on a tour and introduce her to the others."

"Yes sir," Gareth acknowledged, and turned to Galila. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the quartermaster's for your new uniform. We generally arrive on base, as you expect, in our original units' uniforms, but the Athena Program has its own set. The only customization is the flag that indicates which country or territory we come from." He held open the door for her, while Pier let the chair snap back upright and turned to his workstation again.

"Have you had a chance to explore much of the base yet?"

[Monfrox]

So it seemed the Athena program took her suggestion to heart. She knew she had to work more about getting out of the IDF, being an officer in all, but she didn't expect Dobias to beat her here. Still, no formal commands? That would take some getting used to. She looked to the soldier next to her as they stood there.

"I suppose reporting in is priority one, so no I haven't. I'll like to see Corporal Dobias at some point though." Galila said to the man.

Surely Tzilla was finding it a bit insufferable being cooped up in this hydro-electric dam of a base. Perhaps they could share a room together and that way, she wouldn't have to worry about her getting herself down. She was a soldier like her, but there were some quirks the military couldn't fix, no matter what.

[Tiltjuice]

Station Sergeant Gareth Tang
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base

"No problem," Gareth replied. The Israeli woman didn't seem to be too curious, and he respected her professionalism. Or possibly it was just her personality not to make waves? Time would tell.

The next hour was spent taking her through the outdoor shooting range, the gym, a brief stop at the MILES facility (still closed for repair) and the indoor shoot house next door, the barracks and dining hall, and finally the quartermaster's for Galila's new uniform.

"And this is where I leave you," Gareth stated, coming to attention briefly again. "Please feel free to find me in the infirmary if you have any other questions."

He wheeled about and left, intending to check on Artem.

[Anowa]

Station Sergeant Gareth Tang
Oosterscheldekering Dam Base

"No problem," Gareth replied. The Israeli woman didn't seem to be too curious, and he respected her professionalism. Or possibly it was just her personality not to make waves? Time would tell.

The next hour was spent taking her through the outdoor shooting range, the gym, a brief stop at the MILES facility (still closed for repair) and the indoor shoot house next door, the barracks and dining hall, and finally the quartermaster's for Galila's new uniform.

"And this is where I leave you," Gareth stated, coming to attention briefly again. "Please feel free to find me in the infirmary if you have any other questions."

He wheeled about and left, intending to check on Artem.

Quartermaster Murphy
After the incident with the case of 40s I came down to the armory again, I grabbed Mr. Yurivich's SAPI plate from the med bay, I was staring at it realizing a punch did this. I began thinking about how the hell we'd fix this. Setting the ruined plate on the table I began thinking back on my youth and how I'd probably find a solution almost instantly, well at least before I got into warhammer... Wait. "That's fucking it!" I grabbed a laptop and began searching up various things, my downtime spent looking at various technological breakthroughs finally paying off, 'If we take an electroactive polymer to act as the 'muscle' of the suit, and use a system similar to HAL 5 to power it, we'd be able to make a power armor like suit, coat it with titanium...' I realized the SAPI plate was titanium, I looked back at the laptop and thought, 'Perhaps we'd be able to use whatever the ETs use for their ships... I gotta go tell the Commander about this, or at least R&D.
I closed the laptop and walked over to the door, swinging it open to face a taller woman, judging by the uniform (and the 2 bars on her collar) I knew what she needed but decided to be polite anyway, "What do you need help with, ma'am?"

[Gvozdevsk]

Corporal Ruslana Pavlenko

Although she had been recruited a year ago, Ruslana's official entry into Athena had been delayed by the Ukrainian government for some reason or another. Or maybe it was the fact that she had served alongside known fascists and neo-Nazis in the Azov Battalion and Athena wanted a more thorough background check. Ruslana wasn't a Nazi, just a patriotic Ukrainian who's home in Donetsk had been taken over by Russians. But whatever the reason, she was finally about to enter active service with Athena.

After a long trip aboard both a Ukrainian Air Force transport aircraft and a Dutch military truck, Ruslana finally arrived at the base. She stepped out of the truck, and thanked the Dutch soldier who had driven her. She wore a Multicam uniform , which on one sleeve bore the insignia of the Azov Battalion and a full colour Ukrainian flag on the other. Her shoulder length bleached blonde hair was left to hang loose, which combined with her hairstyle of having one side and the back of her head shaved while leaving the hair long on the other side, gave her a bit of an unprofessional look. But in Ruslana's mind, if Athena is recruiting from volunteer militias known to recruit people who subscribe to far-right ideologies, having an unprofessional looking soldier probably isn't extremely high up on their list of priorities. But she's been wrong before about officers not caring much for soldiers looking professional, and it's likely she'll be wrong again at some point.

As she walked towards the base she looked down at the Azov Battalion patch on her right arm. I really hope no Russians see me wearing this, she thought. She had even considered wearing a basic Ukrainian Interior Ministry patch in place of the Azov patch because she knew there would most likely be Russians in Athena, but she was told to come wearing the uniform of her old unit. Which the Azov patch was part of. Ruslana fully expected that the first member of Athena she would see upon entering the base would be a Russian, who would immediately proceed to call her a fascist.

Ruslana quickly looked back at the truck she had arrived in. "How do I even get in to this place?" She yelled back at the driver. She spoke in a thick eastern European accent.

"Take the elevator." The Dutch truck driver yelled back before he drove off.

Ruslana got in the elevator, and pressed the button to go down. She was still imagining officers complaining about her not looking professional enough or Russians immediately taking offense simply because she's Ukrainian and fought in Donetsk, but these were more comical in her mind than being anything to worry about. There were more pressing concerns at the moment. The most important of which was would Ruslana be able to work with these people. She didn't know any of them, and she knew from her own experiences that in any sort of military organization, it can take a while to gain the trust of people who have been there longer. She was almost always on the other end, new recruits to Azov having to gain her trust, but now she'd have the gain the trust of everyone else. And this trust could very well be complicated by the multinational nature of the organization. Ruslana had worked with foreign personnel before, she had trained with NATO troops in Ukraine, and operated alongside various NATO special forces units while they were on covert operations in Donetsk. What she was worried about was how much national rivalries would frustrated cooperation between the soldiers. The idea of having to fight a new enemy was much lower on her list of concerns than cooperating with other soldiers. Athena had been successful so far. And of course, Ruslana would have to learn where to put a round to achieve a one shot kill, but the fundamentals of marksmanship are the same whether you're trying to kill a Russian paratrooper or an alien.

The elevator stopped and Ruslana stepped out. The first thing that surprised her was how clean, well maintained and futuristic everything was. It was a huge step up from bombed out apartment buildings or the ruins of the Donetsk airport. Her first thought was to report to the commander and report in. She would soon spot a tall, dark haired woman in uniform unlike that which she had seen the few Athena members she had already come across wearing, who was knocking on a door. She assumed this would likely by the commander's office, as Ruslana was under the impression that if someone was wearing a non-standard uniform, they were a new arrival. Ruslana waited until she thought the other woman was finished, before knocking on the door herself. When told to enter, Ruslana opened the door and walked in.

"Corporal Ruslana Pavlenko reporting for duty," she said. "I wasn't too sure where else to go other than to command."

[Tiltjuice]

Corporal Ruslana Pavlenko

Although she had been recruited a year ago, Ruslana's official entry into Athena had been delayed by the Ukrainian government for some reason or another. Or maybe it was the fact that she had served alongside known fascists and neo-Nazis in the Azov Battalion and Athena wanted a more thorough background check. Ruslana wasn't a Nazi, just a patriotic Ukrainian who's home in Donetsk had been taken over by Russians. But whatever the reason, she was finally about to enter active service with Athena.

After a long trip aboard both a Ukrainian Air Force transport aircraft and a Dutch military truck, Ruslana finally arrived at the base. She stepped out of the truck, and thanked the Dutch soldier who had driven her. She wore a Multicam uniform , which on one sleeve bore the insignia of the Azov Battalion and a full colour Ukrainian flag on the other. Her shoulder length bleached blonde hair was left to hang loose, which combined with her hairstyle of having one side and the back of her head shaved while leaving the hair long on the other side, gave her a bit of an unprofessional look. But in Ruslana's mind, if Athena is recruiting from volunteer militias known to recruit people who subscribe to far-right ideologies, having an unprofessional looking soldier probably isn't extremely high up on their list of priorities. But she's been wrong before about officers not caring much for soldiers looking professional, and it's likely she'll be wrong again at some point.

As she walked towards the base she looked down at the Azov Battalion patch on her right arm. I really hope no Russians see me wearing this, she thought. She had even considered wearing a basic Ukrainian Interior Ministry patch in place of the Azov patch because she knew there would most likely be Russians in Athena, but she was told to come wearing the uniform of her old unit. Which the Azov patch was part of. Ruslana fully expected that the first member of Athena she would see upon entering the base would be a Russian, who would immediately proceed to call her a fascist.

Ruslana quickly looked back at the truck she had arrived in. "How do I even get in to this place?" She yelled back at the driver. She spoke in a thick eastern European accent.

"Take the elevator." The Dutch truck driver yelled back before he drove off.

Ruslana got in the elevator, and pressed the button to go down. She was still imagining officers complaining about her not looking professional enough or Russians immediately taking offense simply because she's Ukrainian and fought in Donetsk, but these were more comical in her mind than being anything to worry about. There were more pressing concerns at the moment. The most important of which was would Ruslana be able to work with these people. She didn't know any of them, and she knew from her own experiences that in any sort of military organization, it can take a while to gain the trust of people who have been there longer. She was almost always on the other end, new recruits to Azov having to gain her trust, but now she'd have the gain the trust of everyone else. And this trust could very well be complicated by the multinational nature of the organization. Ruslana had worked with foreign personnel before, she had trained with NATO troops in Ukraine, and operated alongside various NATO special forces units while they were on covert operations in Donetsk. What she was worried about was how much national rivalries would frustrated cooperation between the soldiers. The idea of having to fight a new enemy was much lower on her list of concerns than cooperating with other soldiers. Athena had been successful so far. And of course, Ruslana would have to learn where to put a round to achieve a one shot kill, but the fundamentals of marksmanship are the same whether you're trying to kill a Russian paratrooper or an alien.

The elevator stopped and Ruslana stepped out. The first thing that surprised her was how clean, well maintained and futuristic everything was. It was a huge step up from bombed out apartment buildings or the ruins of the Donetsk airport. Her first thought was to report to the commander and report in. She would soon spot a tall, dark haired woman in uniform unlike that which she had seen the few Athena members she had already come across wearing, who was knocking on a door. She assumed this would likely by the commander's office, as Ruslana was under the impression that if someone was wearing a non-standard uniform, they were a new arrival. Ruslana waited until she thought the other woman was finished, before knocking on the door herself. When told to enter, Ruslana opened the door and walked in.

"Corporal Ruslana Pavlenko reporting for duty," she said. "I wasn't too sure where else to go other than to command."

It had been a busy morning for Commander Pier. Monitoring the MILES facility repairs, checking for any updates on Beijing from the control center, and meeting with Galila packed into a single short hour. He turned to Ruslana and nodded in acknowledgment, hiding some surprise at her unconventional hairstyle.

"Welcome to Athena, Corporal. As you probably know, we're an international force, and you're our first Ukrainian. I know your background," he said with a glance toward her Azov insignia, "but that likely won't be an issue as we have no Russians here. There might be some trouble at first with our Dane, and possibly some of the Americans or our Canadian if they recognize that emblem and the politics behind it. If so, please let me know, or feel free to discuss it with our psychologist, Dr. Selena Lightheart."

He paused, then continued. "On base, there are barracks separated by sex; an indoor and an outdoor firing range; a MILES training facility that's under repair; a shoot house; a rec lounge, a dining hall, and the gym; and the infirmary. When not taking part in missions, troopers usually head for the rec lounge or the gym. There's also a command and control center, but that's off limits to troopers except for emergency situations. Do you have any questions for me?"

[Monfrox]

"I'm here to obtain my gear and uniform. And also may come back for some practice. I also assume you'll be telling me where my room is, correct?" Galila wasn't very emotional on the outside, but that wasn't really anyone's fault. It was just how she was. There was no rhyme or reason to it other than that. She waited patiently, still accustomed to years of the military and having only transferred out of it yesterday.

---

A lonely Corporal sat in her room, listening to music and doodling on a sheet of paper about some new fangled grenade idea. Still, she had arrived before her friend Galila the day before, and hadn't heard when exactly she was coming in. If she knew Galila well enough, she'd probably be heading to the CO's office first thing. She sighed and walked out to the Admin wing to look for any signs of her comrade. Boredom was setting in, as was her disdain of being stuck inside. She wanted to get out and do things. Like grenade practice. That sounded fun.

[Anowa]

"I'm here to obtain my gear and uniform. And also may come back for some practice. I also assume you'll be telling me where my room is, correct?" Galila wasn't very emotional on the outside, but that wasn't really anyone's fault. It was just how she was. There was no rhyme or reason to it other than that. She waited patiently, still accustomed to years of the military and having only transferred out of it yesterday.

Quartermaster Murphy
"The uniforms I can help you with, just pick one out that fits, Practice is up to you, just find an empty lane and go to town. just please for the love of god sign it out." I pointed to the requisition sheet, "Women's barracks are on the far end of the hall on the left, can't miss it." I thought about Commander Pier's reaction to my 'idea', he'd probably die from shock when I told him of the expenses... I decided it would be best if I made my way to the rec lounge instead, maybe play some pool with someone. I set my laptop down on a nearby table and set off towards the lounge, I called out to the woman, "If you have any questions about anything in there I'll be in the rec lounge."

[Vancon]

InnaV44
Moscow Outskirts
SPC.Cooper



Within a V44
Moscow Outskirts
Lt. Rose

Surprised, Angered and Annoyed. Those were the three emotions going through Lt. Rose's head right now. What the hell. No, why the hell was there a girl in one of the cells aboard. Hell, since when did we have cells on board in the first place? She looked straight at the girl and just stayed still with her jaw dropped.

''What the hell are you doing here? This is a covert m---. Hold on, how the hell did you get on board? Why are you in a cell? How did we not notice you?'' she said. Looking up she sighed, and put a hand on her face. Pulling her face down, she took of her hand.

''Explain yourself,''

InnaV44
Moscow Outskirts
SPC.Cooper

Not knowing exactly how she ended up on a mission,
Sienna couldn't help but to explain her peculiar circumstances. She took her E-cigarette out if her mouth, bringing it to her waist along with her hands, twirling it around from both ends without breaking eye contact with Lt.Rose.

"Well, as a little lady who couldn't sleep, I went out to get help. I ask this nice man gave me something to help my night better. Next thing I know, I'm on a cold, dark place surrounded by soldiers. Such is life in Russia."

Noticing how her unassigned CO is still in doubt of her very existence, Sienna decided to end the trivial explanation with an honest question.
"
Anyhow, may I offer my assistance.? I'll be fine with just a plate carrier"

Within a V44
Moscow Outskirts
Lt. Rose

The dimly lit V-44 loading bay was awash with red lights. It shone down on the Lieutenant's face, and it made her confused look all the more confused. She went up to the cage and punched in a code to let the girl out. Rose put a hand out, and in turn Cooper took it and left the cage. Taking her hand back, Rose reached across her chest and took the revolver out of its holster. She popped out the barrel and spun it to check and see if it was in prime condition. As expected, the gun was fine, and she swiftly passed it over to the girl. She then took out a couple of speed loaders, and gave those to her as well.

Rose checked the time on her watch. They were running behind schedule. The team that was with her included a couple of odd faces, but that was no biggie. There was now a pair of medics, a gunner, a spec ops girl, a rocketeer and a good old soldier. She had told the local 2IC to get on with the mission, but there was something about the nordic man that gave her the chills, surprisingly not the Russian winter. They had landed much closer to their objective then expected. Instead of 2 clicks out, the pilot must've understood closer then 2 clicks or something, since they were a hop skip and a jump away. The objective was to take down a rather large alien creature. It was said to've been hiding out in the warehouse district, and more precisely this one.

To be precise, the V-44 landed in a sort of clearing, what with a river behind them and a forest of abandoned buildings to their front. The factory building in question and the town was slightly higher, as there was a large staircase going up. Easily drivable, but still a bit bumpy. As for the abandoned area, well, it was like something scared off all the local prospectors away from their shops and stores. Even the human desire for money didn't keep these people at work. Snow had fallen the night before, and it was still falling, albeit much lighter and slower. It was dark as hell out, but there were lights here and there. Street lights and work lights mostly, but the odd candle here and there could be seen. Most likely belonging to the less fortunate, but who knows.

The building was massive. Easily six stories tall, with massive tinted and broken windows all around. One should be able to see if there was a monster inside, but clearly that was not the case. On the walls, there were assorted pictures made from paint and the odd bit of coal smeared across the side. There were craters here and there that formed a kind of pattern, leading up to the massive double doors that were almost as tall as the walls at the front. They were closed shut tight, but were also a bit rusty and clamped down on around the middle. It looked almost as if a large infant grabbed the doors, and if the doors were made of some kind of clay.

The lieutenant led the team off of the V-44. She had one of the troopers drive the MATV out of the back and swiftly everyone got inside. Or at least, that's what she wanted to happen. In all seriousness, they were about 200 feet from the building and the truck wasn't necessary, but it was cool, and that's a plus. She had the team split up ever so slightly. Thor, Dieppe, Kiersten and Fukutsu would all be inside of the MTAV. Cooper would be in the gunner's seat, and Johnson and Rose would ride on top until they got there.

In due time, the 4x4 was backed out of the V-44 and the troops were loaded. At the blistering pace of 30 kph, they drove over to the factory. Guns were trained and pointed out of their respectful windows, and sectors were covered. They stopped about 30 feet from the door in front. They'd like to go closer, but there were too many bumps due to the craters. Each one was no wider then 3 feet, but they were very deep. Driving over that would break any vehicle, even MRAPs, or at the very least get them stuck, and no one wanted to do paper work.

Once they arrived, the team dismounted, save for Kiersten behind the wheel and Cooper in the turret. The remaining 5 pushed up towards the double doors. They were ants compared to the stoney, cold building. Three on one side of the door, two on the other. Together, they pried open. The inside was very sparce, with almost nothing in the room. No snow, no ice, nor a single sign of life. There were a few assorted papers and cardboard boxes inside, but apart from that it was vacant. even though there were the craters outside, no footprints could be found here. Whatever this thing was, it was not heavy enough to break a factory floor.

The silence in the room was the most prominent. The only noises that could be heard was the faint hum of the 4x4's engine, the buzz of the occasional light, the footsteps of the soldiers and the light blowing of the wind. At the end of the room, one could see another door. This door was quite far away, but it was no matter. The 5 man team walked their way through the room with weapons drawn, and an odd feeling in their gut.

Out of the silence came the quickest of sarcastic quips,

''At least it's a clean beast,'' said Fukutsu in a very hushed manner.

Rose started turning her head towards him, but decided against it. A light chuckle, and they went on.

---

Meanwhile, back at the door, Thor and Cooper were filling in the craters around the door so they could bring the 4x4 in. Simply put, they didn't want to be alone out in the cold. Neither of the two wanted to admit that they were scared outside, so the universal decision between the two was that they were cold. Ya, cold.

---

The five man team made their way over to the next door. It had some odd yellow markings on the front, but that was probably Russian. Just like for the first door, they stacked up. Two on the left, two on the right. In the middle was Johnson. He had his cigar in his mouth and his rifle raised. The pairs grabbed on each side of the doors, and slid them back. Oddly enough, this time the doors opened much easier.

''Oh.Shit,'' said Johnson softly as he looked up at the creature. It's hand was on the door, it's red and grey metal legs stepping out. The moonlight lit it up like a firecraker on the fourth of July. It stared into Johnson's eyes for a good ten seconds straight. Rose slowly but surely moved her hand up to her earpiece.

''Warhammers 1 and 5, get that 4x4 over here now!'' she said softly and quietly.

But the big guy heard it. It took a step forward, and while making a cacophony of clicking sounds, pushed Johnson a good 20 feet back. He tumbled and rolled, but most of that time was spent being sent flying. He landed with a thud, and that jumped the current quartet into action. Dieppe lost her cool big time, and started laying into the big guy. She spent her mag fast, and quickly proceeded to drop her gun, screaming, ''Run!''

The rest of the quartet took heed of her words, and started racing back at a dead sprint. Johnson was lifted off his feet and pulled along for a couple feet by Fukutsu and Kiersten as Rose called in the situation as they ran.

''Pilot, pass on the message! Ursa Major spotted! Engaging!''

---

The duo outside raced back into their MATV. The engine lit up, and the military vehicle started hauling ass. They raced forward, and started to drift to the left. They drove around the squad racing out, guns a blazing into the chest of the robot. Its eyes flashed red like the CCCP flag, and caused the cardboard and paper in the area to fly around and come to it, creating a shield of paper. Not that it mattered though, as machinegun rounds battled for audio dominance against Cooper's endless shouts of ''Get some, Bitch! Ya Ha! Fuck Ya!'' The bullets tore though the cardboard like a hot knife though butter, but then the sledgehammer came in.

In a smooth drift, Thor fishtailed into the legs of the Ursa Major, sweeping it off it's feet and having it topple over like a drawbridge. The MATV was dented, but not that much. It raced on and continued it's drift, until it righted itself and came to a combat stop ahead of Dieppe who was the furthest away. They opened up the right hand doors, and the back ones, and everyone piled in. Kiersten was in the front next to Thor, with Johnson lying up against the right hand door, Fukutsu attending to his injuries, Rose in the back strapping on a makeshift seatbelt to herself and Dieppe doing the same.

Warhammer sped off as the Ursa came to. It started moving. One step at a time. The 4x4 stopped at the doorway, and let the soldiers open up on it. Their bullets had little to no effect, save for sparks lighting up the night. The Ursa started coming a bit faster, and faster, and faster.

''Drive drive drive!'' screamed Dieppe in terror as it came closer.

The 4x4 raced off and drove out into the clearing. Ursa followed suit, crashing though the doorway causing havoc. Parts of the front of the building started coming down, adding dust and dirt to the pure snow. It was chaos. The mechanical beast was right behind the MATV, and was attempting to reach out and throw the vehicle. Driving around in circles was not really gonna last here.

"Thor, get to those buildings! We'll try to lose it in there!'' said Rose quickly. A shout later, and they sped off. Up the stairs, and through the city they went, with mech right on their asses. Gunshots rang out, but to no avail. They were just annoying the Ursa. It was getting really close now. They were essentially fucked. That was the case and the probable outcome, if it weren't for an interesting idea.

They were on a long stretch. They were going a good 90 kph, and so was the mech, moving as if it was skating without skates. In the back of the MATV, someone had an idea.

''Hey LT! How crazy can I get here?'' said Dieppe.

''What are you on about?''

''I think we need to step up our firepower!''

''What?''

''83 millimeters of pure destruction ma'am!''

''Are you fucking serious?''

''You know it!''

''Can you pull it off?''

''You just fucking watch!''

Dieppe shooed away the scare from her body and reached into the seat in front of her. She pulled out her SMAW, and trained it on the target. It shouted. So did Dieppe. A shout of pure bliss, as she fired the rocket At the Ursa's head and shoulders. It jumped, but not high enough, and the rocket landed square in it's lower chest, blowing off everything from it's legs down. It tossed and tumbled, only to have it's chest and head land in an intersection. The 4x4 came to a stop, and the team dismounted. Everyone got out, except for Cooper and Thor, who raced off without asking the LT.

''What the hell are you doing Thor ?'' She shouted over the comms.

''Advanced Tactics ma'am, Advanced Tactics,'' said Thor

''What? Get back here!''

''Oh, we will,''

Thor ended the conversation then and there. The remaining five started slowly towards the robot, as it laid on the ground, arms swiping at them and head flashing. It was flashing red, just like it's eyes were. An oilish substance was pouring out of where it's legs were, and sparks flew everywhere. They stood about 40 feet back from it, and opened up. First Rose, and then the rest. Their bullets were slamming into its head, but to no avail.

---

Cooper and Thor continued driving. They took the first three right hand turns they could find, and soon were where they wanted to be. The sped up and up, until they were going 120 kph on snow. Thor plut the 4x4 into neutral, and jumped out, arms tight to his body and bracing for impact with the ground. Cooper followed suit.

---

The five stopped to reload their weapons. Then they heard a noise get louder and louder. Closer and closer. Out of no where, the MATV came barreling down the intersection and like a car running a red light that slams into the good driver, the MATV crunched with the impact of a hundred elephants. It took of the shoulders and head like a samurai sword, severing it from the body smoothly.

The clicking stopped, and so did the flashing. It was over.

''Fuck yeah,'' said Thor softly as he leaned up, only to lean back as Cooper hooted and hollered into the night sky in between tremendous fits of laughter.

Rose fell to her knees, and relaxed. Time to go home.

Good Work, Athena!
0 Casualties
1 Hostile Eliminated

[Bentus]

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Mess Hall
Emilie Girard and Ethan Haynes

---

Ethan whistled idly to himself as he strolled into the Mess, his gear already dropped off securely by his newly claimed bunk. He glanced around the room, noting the men and women who he were going to end up calling his comrades in this new unit. They were gathered in groups here and there, perhaps bound my common national origins or past stories, or sitting comfortably on their own. A television blared loudly from one side of the hall, but not to such an extent that it threatened to intrude on those who couldn’t care two cents about the outcome of a soccer match. The smell of freshly cooked breakfast wafted from the other end of the room, drawing the attention of the American soldier as well as that of his stomach. All in all, it seemed to be a pretty decent gig; then again, it was amazing what luxuries you could accomplish with a bottomless black budget.

Bee-lining to the array of food, Ethan browsed over the meals greedily. Although he’d managed to grab a bite or so on the flight over the Atlantic, he stopped short of calling whatever that stuff was breakfast. This stuff looked like it should have been served up at a fancy restaurant rather than in the Mess of a military base. I could really get used to this black budget.

“Like anything you see?”

The feminine voice immediately drew Ethan’s head back up from salivating over the dishes and his eyes met a pair of brown gems. The young woman was smiling with the eternal happiness typically found of those working in the service industry, and she had a distinctly Asian appearance to her – even if her accent twinged with a hint of European. Ethan smiled in return, a grin that exuded healthy self-confidence and an innate awareness of his self and appearance.

“Most certainly.” He was never one to miss an opportunity, but at the same time his stomach raged against his playing. “Although I think I’ll have to settle for some bacon and eggs. I’m Ethan Haynes, US Rangers.”

“Sekar.” The girl took the extended hand, her eyes dancing over the soldier’s face, appraising his appearance and enjoying what they saw. To say that Ethan was handsome was something of an understatement. Sure, physically his chiselled chin and military physique had their perks, but more than that it was the way in which he carried himself. In his teenage years, Ethan had thrown caution to the wind, choosing instead to embrace that most addictive of drugs: adrenalin. Confidence and an acknowledgement of his own self-wroth seemed to lift the air around him, drawing attention and eyes, but also tended to rub off on others. Ethan had a way of making others feel more confident, more self-assured, when he spoke with them. Although the fact that his form was rather pleasing on the eyes didn’t hurt.

“Nice to meet you Sekar – has anyone ever told you that you have lovely eyes?”

The Indonesian woman cocked an eyebrow in amusement, “Original.”

Ethan shrugged in acceptance. “Just landed so I’m running on coffee and jet lag, but it would be a shame to miss a shot at a beautiful woman.”

Sekar almost blushed, laughing at the off-hand comment. “Well, make sure you don’t get lost. Maybe someone would be able to give you a tour?” Ethan’s grin widened as she handed over his breakfast.

“I’d like that.”

---

Sekar watched as the American made his way to the tables, tray in hand. She had to admit that the view from the rear was just as nice as from the front, and the compliments had been welcome in the often serious confines of Athena. She found herself idly daydreaming of home and past experiences as her mind wandered, entirely failing to notice the woman waiting impatiently next in line.

“Ahem.”

The chef shot up at the unexpected sound, surprise clear on her face as she felt a surge of embarrassment. Hastily trying to recover, Sekar turned to smile at the soldier with an apology on the top of her tongue, but the pair of glaring eyes lodged it in her throat. The small woman had her arms crossed in irritation and had her hair hanging down in long, wet strands – evidently from a recent shower. She was clad in the typical Athena uniform, with her jacket buttoned up all the way along her chest. Her whole demeanour was aggressive, and she looked at Sekar with a scowl that just dared for an excuse. The Indonesian woman swallowed nervously, offering a plate with a croissant like some kind of peace offering.

Emilie seethed silently as the chef finally turned to her. She was in no mood to be friendly and the blatant flirting that she’d just witnessed had done little to brighten her day. Violently, she grabbed the offered the plate, grunting as a means of expressing her displeasure at the long serving time before turning to make her way to an empty table. It was as if a storm cloud was hanging over her head, and after the extreme embarrassment of that morning, it was little surprise. Worse still, she had a nagging sensation in her gut that wouldn’t leave her alone: a concern for the missions that were still out in the field. That Chris shouldn’t have been allowed to fly, she was certain of that, but she could only hope that Chloe and the others could cover for him in case the kid cocked up.

[Shyluz]

Artem had finished eating his relatively plain food, and was placing the tray with the rest when the whole deal at the lunch line went down. With a great mighty sigh, the man approached Emilie, sitting at her table across from her. He wore a gray tee with the ATHENA emblem over the right breast, and a pair of combat boots and some baggy black pants.

"So what's up, Emilie? You look pissed."

[Bentus]

Oosterscheldekering Dam Base
Mess Hall
Emilie Girard

---

Emilie had been aggressively poking at her food, swirling it around her plate as she lost herself in her own thoughts. The unexpected voice of the Czech, however, tore her from her stupor and she looked up at him in momentary surprise. A quick flash of recognition passed over her features as her mouth contorted into something of a forced smile.

“Hey, Artem. Didn’t expect to see you up and about so soon.” That wasn’t entirely true: Emilie had seen Artem’s files and had fully expected that the man wouldn’t have allowed himself to have been bedridden. Still, she felt slightly amused at the sight of the wounded soldier and wondered if he’d even decided to skimp out of the prescribed painkillers. Her façade of normality evaporated almost immediately however, and a deep sigh escaped the French woman’s lips.

“And I’ve just been having a day merdique.” She paused for a moment, considering her next words before opting to throw caution to the wind: it would help to get some of the weight from her chest. Emilie threw down her cutlery in resignation, the utensils clinking on her still-full plate. “Merde, do you ever just feel like you’re absolutely useless?” The question was intended to be rhetorical, as Emilie tried to express her own mixed feelings. “I’m a trained medical professional, brought here to do my bloody job, and yet nobody asks for my opinion when a wounded soldier is sent off on a live OP. Mon Dieu! What the hell do they think is going to happen?” Her tone had become more vocal and animated as she spoke. She was upset at the situation that she found herself in, unwittingly feeling a kind of responsibility for the soldiers of Athena already – and yet having their safety taken out of her hands. It was infuriatingly unpleasant and she wished that she hadn’t made the stupid decision of getting to know some of them: it made the job a lot more difficult. “I’m itching to do something useful – you know? It feels like everything’s hitting the fan and I’m being forced to just sit on the sidelines and suck my thumb.”

[Shyluz]

Artem smiled at the woman. It was strange seeing the woman who already saved so many lives angry that she couldn't save more, or even stop someone from being dragged out into another combat zone. He chuckled a bit, before flashing back to a story that might help her.

"Emi, I'm going to tell you a story. This story is about a single man in the middle of the Egyptian Crisis all alone. At the time when this occurred, the man was only a mere private in th Ninth JFO. It was during the Third Battle for Cairo, and the man was the sole survivor of his platoon. He was trapped in a building, alone, wounded, and low on ammunition. On the outside of the building were three technicals with HMGs, and at least a squadron of infantry. He had three options, surrender, and likely be tortured to death, fight using his last magazine for his pistol, and likely die horribly. Or, he could call down artillery support from the regimental battery. This would likely lead to him being crushed.

There comes a time when we, as soldiers, have to trust our superiors and comrades to make the correct call. This was one of those times. So he called the artillery down around him. A shell landed three meters away from him, and he nearly lost his legs, and his comrades figured he died in the shelling. In reality, a French helicopter escorting a convoy through Cairoafter the shelling had spotted him, and notified the convoy. The man had been saved, though he was likely to lose his legs, as they were covered in dirt and blood. The convoy picked him up, and the French medic was able to save the man's leg.

Would you like to know the interesting thing? The French medic had a name, and it was Emilie Girard. The lone survivor's name was Artem Yurivich. You've saved my life twice now, Emilie. Though you probably don't remember the first time.

But that's not the point. What I'm trying to get across is that sometimes, while it might not seem like the best choice, it might turn out fine." He gestured with his hands as he spoke. He smiled brightly at the woman before him, and patted her on the head as he stood.

"And with our luck, we've got a fighting chance against the aliens." He said, walking away.

[Bentus]

Emilie stayed quiet as Artem recounted his story, and remained silent as he got up to leave. She didn’t react to the contact of his hand, instead her eyes were locked ahead as her own memories shot to the surface. Her face was stoic and the most that she could manage was a half-hearted grin in response to Artem’s optimistic conclusion. The medic mulled the story over in her mind, fitting together the pieces and trying to come to terms with how exactly she felt about it herself. It was almost as if she was observing her own reactions from outside her body, watching a stranger grapple with the past. Artem had been wrong: she did remember. Or at least she did now.

Emilie could recall it all. The blood and the screaming that accompanied wounded soldiers – although the latter had been absent from the Czech. And then there was that Godforsaken sand, the sand which pierced its way into everything and everyone until your boots were so full of the stuff that you could hardly move your feet. She could remember sitting in the back of the cramped Humvee when the convoy received word of a wounded ally, quickly altering their course in an effort to assist. The building had been reduced to rubble and ash, the flaming wrecks of hostile vehicles arrayed before it as their crews had been caught in the unexpected barrage: the stench of their burnt corpses wafting through the thin desert air as their flesh roasted under the desert sun. She’d become acclimatised to it all by that point, to the death and to the tragedies. She’d learned to keep it all at arm’s length, safely distant so that she could fill in the reports on a full stomach and list out the statistics without names causing faces to surface along with them. It was easier that way, as she’d found out not long before that convoy when –

Emilie clamped down on that train of thought, determined not to allow her mind to dredge up anymore unwanted memories. The dream from the night before had already pushed too much to the forefront of her head. She looked over at the canteen, where Artem seemed to be trying to get himself another course. He seemed to be recovering well from his injury, far better than she had expected. A part of her wanted to simply get up and leave before he came back, friends tended to be counter-productive when they lay screaming on the ground. Yet she remained on the table with a resigned sigh, accepting that she’d enjoyed the brief human exchange too much to step back from the brink now.

[Shyluz]

After much arguing, small amounts of yelling, the kind gentleman serving the troops shoved Artem out of the line.

So, Artem quickly headed over to the coffee machine, if he couldn't get anymore damn food, he was going to get a cup of fucking coffee, even if it's only char.

After a few moments of furious beating from Artem, as well as a hefty amount of cursing, the machine obliged, and a near pure black liquid poured into the ATHENA logo emblazoned mug. He walked back to the woman he'd been conversing with. He sat down with a brief groan of exertion, and took a sip of the steaming beverage, which did in fact taste like char, unsurprisingly, and said:

"So, this is about Chris, right? Or am I merely insane?"

[The BranRiech]

A crisp figure strode through the halls of the sprawling underground base, walking slowly, yet with intent as he carried a suitcase close to his side, taking up as little space as possible. The immaculately straightened greenish-tan uniform was quite a sight, considering it was rarely seen in this part of the world outside of TV broadcasts. Lucas Fedorov shook his head, relieving some of the pent-up pressure in his neck as he approached the Commander's office. He'd considered removing his cap, but lacking the free hand to carry it, he decided against the action.

With the one free hand that he did have (Reserved for actions such as this), he reached up and knocked on the door. As he waited, the young man took to observing the surroundings. Luke was nearly in awe. The base was much better maintained, and much more orderly than his own nation's underground fortifications.

The bases he was used to were all in various states of disrepair, tiles missing, cracks in the walls and such. He didn't want to admit it, but he would have been lying to himself if he said that Athena wasn't the best chance at saving the world.

[Bentus]

- snip -

Emilie nodded as she took a much-needed mouthful from her own luke-warm cup, grimacing at the bitter taste of the sugarless beverage. "Ouais. That kid is going to get himself killed one of these day, or worse: everyone in his squad. And I'd be damned if I'm arsed to patch up the bodies after I warned them." She snorted in irritation. "No, let them learn from their mistakes and maybe, maybe they'd listen to me next time."

Venting her anger felt pretty good, she had been infamous for expressing her opinions in her old regiment and had no intention of ending that streak at Athena. However, Emilie halted herself as her eyes met those of the man sitting opposite her for a moment before darting away. She’d forgotten who she’d been talking to and realised that she really didn’t want to scare him off.

“Désolée. I know you fought with him before and all, and I wasn't even there.” Emilie felt a sudden urge for a drink, something strong, but swiftly ignored the craving. “It’s just that, surely I can’t be the only one to see that he is woefully unprepared for this? He’s just a goddamned kid, bon sang! His medical file said seventeen – that’d put him fresh out of school for pity’s sake. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put a gun in his hands and rest the fate of the world on his shoulders?” Emilie sighed in exasperation, lowering her voice and meeting Artem's eyes with a deadly-serious expression. “A squad is only as good as its weakest link in the field – and I for one wouldn’t trust that boy with my life for even a second.”

[Shyluz]

Artem shrugged. She was right, about Chris being woefully unprepared, but hell, the entire base was woefully unprepared. He chuckled as she thought that Chris couldn't handle himself though. He took a sip of his charred coffee, and was quite tempted to pull the flask that was cleverly hidden in the bandages wrapped around his torso.

"Chris can handle himself, and it wasn't us who gave him a gun. It was wherever he came from. The kid might not be prepped for rifles and other milspec ordinance, but he can handle a pistol. I wouldn't be surprised if his arm only has a first degree burn though. He was barely grazed last time, and I'm guessing most of the armor absorbed the hit. So, I wouldn't worry." He said, pouring a clear liquid into the coffee mug from a shiny flask.

"However, you've saved my life twice now, so if he is hit, we know he'll be in capable hands." He outstretched the flask, and a sloshing emanated from the metal construct.

[Vancon]

A crisp figure strode through the halls of the sprawling underground base, walking slowly, yet with intent as he carried a suitcase close to his side, taking up as little space as possible. The immaculately straightened greenish-tan uniform was quite a sight, considering it was rarely seen in this part of the world outside of TV broadcasts. Lucas Fedorov shook his head, relieving some of the pent-up pressure in his neck as he approached the Commander's office. He'd considered removing his cap, but lacking the free hand to carry it, he decided against the action.

With the one free hand that he did have (Reserved for actions such as this), he reached up and knocked on the door. As he waited, the young man took to observing the surroundings. Luke was nearly in awe. The base was much better maintained, and much more orderly than his own nation's underground fortifications.

The bases he was used to were all in various states of disrepair, tiles missing, cracks in the walls and such. He didn't want to admit it, but he would have been lying to himself if he said that Athena wasn't the best chance at saving the world.

Gen. L. Pier.
Ooster
Head Office

Paperwork was everywhere. On the oak desk, in stacks around the room that were blocking out the burgundy walls. There was even papers around the sole globe on Pier's desk. In the ceiling there was a single light that shined throughout the room, giving out a faint yellow hue.There was a faint knock at his door. Pier looked up from his papers, and stared at the door for a second. Slowly, he leaned back, with a thought as too why there was a person at his door, but regardless.

"Enter," said Pier sternly. We has equal parts surprised and annoyed.

The large man entered, with a pip in his step. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by something quite, unexpected.

The alarm was wailing. Red Alert! Red Alert! Pvt. Bilodeau, Cpl. Vasilyev, Cpl Fedorov, Cpl. Dytor, Sgt. Flint and Lt. McLaughlin, report to the hangar in 10 minutes," it blared.

"Who authorized this! What's going on!"shouted Pier at the walls, even with the soldier right there. He sighed, and pushed him out of the way.

"Walk with me soldier. I don't have time to wait around here," he said as he started to walk down to the OPs room


----------10 Minutes Earlier----------

Lt. Rose
Ooster Special Ops Wing.
Intelligence Room.

"So, what do we got?"

Blue light filled the room. A large white table was toned blue and it did not suit it. Computer screens lined the walls, without the faintest care in the world for ones eyes. All across the screens flashed informational about enemy activities, and now something big was up.

"Ma'am, one of our operatives has made contact with a cell of fighters that have gathered some wreckage from Operation Blue Night after it washed up on the shore of New Zealand. This group, which calls itself "SETH,' has loaded up the wreckage onto a train. We do not know where they intend on stopping, but we assume that it'd be the International Airport. If the group can own a train, they can surely own a plane. Regardless, their train will be leaving in a couple hours, and if we move fast we will be able to intercept them as they are in transit," said a technician.

"Very well, but that's surely not that big of a deal. Why would we want to go after just some train? i doubt that that's all of the story," said Rose.

"If you let me continue, then I'd go onto say that they seem to've captured or found an alien. We don't know of this kind, and it's just a strong rumor, but if it isn't, we may have an alien loose in the public, but I don't need to tell you that, now do I?"

"Snarky. I like it. It seems like there's no time to waste. Get a squad together, and have them load up into a V-44 as soon as possible,"

'Aye Aye Ma'am"