Operation Chromium: Tears in the Rain (MT, IC, Closed)

[Congreveopia]

OOC Thread


"May you live in interesting times."

Congreveopolis, 0209 hours Standard Congreveopian Time, Defense Command:

Commander of Defense Smith walked into the command room. He was one of Congreveopia’s five first-tier commanders and held the highest rank in the Congreveopian armed forces. His job was nothing more or less than to ensure that every morning the sun rose on a free and safe Congreveopia. Some mornings were trickier than others.

“Nexus, where do we stand?” he said, striding over to the main display in the center of the room.

“The president is asleep,” said Nexus. “He has left clear instructions, though. We are committed to seeing the mission through. Kayora is aboard Injunction and Dark Division has been tasked to secure her. You are to protect the nation against any Hurti retaliation.”

“Official mission assets?” asked Smith as he glanced across the map and confirmed the locations of the military’s major units.

“You have carte blanche,” replied Nexus. “The Home Fleet is fully operational bar one destroyer undergoing refit, the First Drone fleet is less than six hundred kilometers away, and two of the Amphibious Assault Fleets are also in local waters. Cloistered Guardian, Lordly Clairvoyance, and Indiscriminate Vengeance are all within national airspace. Endurance is undergoing a refit, and the rest of the MAAPS are deployed overseas. Overwhelming Silence will be back in eight hours. The army and air force have no major ongoing deployments overseas. The only forces that are not currently available are those pledged to the New Conglomerate, Dark Division, and the Silicon Guard.”

“We’ll work with the assets we have to hand,” said Smith. “No need to compromise our foreign deployment when we have more than enough forces here already. Brief me on the retrieval of Kayora.”

“The Dark Divison is mobilizing the majority of their assets in Congreveopia,” said Nexus. “Once Injunction arrives, Kayora will be secured. From there, the current plan is transit to Spaceport Congreveopia for further study.”

“Is Fortress engaged in that operation?”

“The intricacies of this mission have proved trying on the loyalties of the more liberally trained members of the armed forces. Fortress has been deployed to secure the spaceport. I would not advise ordering it to directly engage Kayora. Dark Division will remain true to the mission where other branches of the Platinum Soldiers may fail.”

“And the Silicon Guard?”

“They would obey my directives under all circumstances.”

“Would you direct them to capture Kayora if I directly ordered you to?”

“Of course, Commander,” said Nexus. Somewhere deep inside Data Command, a flag was attached to the conversation log: ‘Reply with delusiory intent.’

“Yes, of course,” said Commander Smith. “Thank you. That won’t be necessary. Get Guardian to Spaceport Congreveopia as well, and let’s set about battening down for whatever is ahead. Oh, and make sure Destiny is on full alert.”

Stamford Regional Airport, 0641 hours:

Catherine Walker squinted in the pale morning light as a V-22 Osprey rolled slowly to a stop a couple hundred meters away on the airport apron. With a dull cough, its engines died and a few seconds later, its lights were switched off, and the cockpit door opened.

Doris Walker stepped out. She was wearing about half of a standard MAAPS officer’s uniform and holding a headset and a handgun. Her eyes lit up as she saw Catherine, and the sisters ran towards each other and hugged.

“It is so good to see you alive, sis,” said Catherine.

“Yeah, after the day I’ve had, I’m not so sure,” said Doris. “It is good to see you, though.”

“I’m afraid it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better,” said Catherine. She gestured to a DC-8 parked awkwardly in front of a vacant hangar nearby. “I can fill you in once we’re airborne, but we’re kind of on a strict timetable right now.”

“I’ve got three people zip-tied and gagged in the back of that Osprey,” said Doris. “I trust you Cath, but I’d like to know a bit more about what’s going on before I go from deserting my post to high treason.”

“You’re caught in the middle of a battle between titans,” said Catherine. “Congreveopia and Hurtful Thoughts are in a state of somewhat-undeclared war over Nexus trying to capture Kayora in a false-flag exercise. It looks like Nexus has mostly won, although at a huge cost, and now the government is clearing up loose ends. You’re dangerous right now, because you know enough to expose the whole thing if you talk with the right people, so Dark Division almost certainly has orders to disappear you.”

“I’ve got most of that already,” said Doris. “The government did something incredibly shady that kind of got out of hand, they’re covering their tracks with Dark Division, and I’m a track that needs to be covered, but where do you come in? You’re practically a civilian; you shouldn’t know any of this, and yet you told me which airport to come to, and I’m guessing you’re also the reason I wasn’t shot down the second I entered Congreveopian air space.”

“We’re going to go save the world,” said Catherine. “Kayora has friends who are almost certainly going to try to free her and kill Nexus. We need to make sure they get those things done in the right way, or a lot of people are going to die.”

“So how do we do that?” asked Doris.

“No idea,” said Catherine. “I burnt almost all of the contact-web I’d been building stealing this airplane. I figured you’d point the nose at the main TFA base and we’d try to work things out from there.”

“Great,” said Doris. “Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah,” said Catherine. “Bring the zip-ties; the DC-8’s pilot still thinks I’m planning on returning it.”

[Monfrox]

Outskirts of Lanta, Monfrox
Phantomwind AFB
330 miles from the frontline
1854 Hours, FST

The C-130 touched down smoothly, compared to the hurried take off. It was good to be back where tower procedure was still running. With all their equipment and operators safely back in country, Arike relaxed slightly. At least there would be some food and rest for now, but there was one thing she had to do. She went around to all the soldiers: The Recon Corps and the RPRU, and collected the Task Force Atlas patches off of them. Once done, she led the three squads to the base's burning pit where a few soldiers huddled around with their food and talked, though that all stopped when they saw them approach. It was a cooler evening, with the sun almost gone completely from the night.

The Colonel looked at the other soldiers, then tossed the patches into the fire.

"No longer will we be so ready to join such forces. After this whole fiasco, I guarantee the Field Marshal will be quite skeptical of international special task forces. Especially after...what happened."

Sgt. Pitt perked up. "What happened, Colonel?"

Arike led them away from the fire and back towards the base proper. Specifically the facilities with food and water, showers, and the government-mandated brothel that was present on all full-fledged Froxian military bases.

"Operations Blind Knife and Red Lily were resounding failures and had to be completed by sleeper agents and other such forces."

There were immediately coarse murmurs among the ranks behind her. Red Lily had barely gotten off the ground before things had to be switched up and recalled. Blind Knife had seen some of the Task Force Atlas personnel turn tail when the going went tough. If not for the espionage operative inserted beforehand, General Yaslova would probably had been electrocuted to death. A whole squad of light anti-tank infantry was wiped out holding off the insurgent armored column, save for one of the team leaders who was now suffering from PTSD. Not to mention the small tank destroyer platoon of M1128 MGS Strykers was decimated entirely. All for the sake of covering a retreat. If it wasn't for the AA being taken out at the last second and opening up the way for the Air Cavalry, then things might've gone very badly for the former Task Force Atlas personnel as well.

But new would travel and rumors with it. Royce was out of action for the next half year at least to go through correctional hearing therapy and surgery, though it did bring to light a very awful drawback of the recon foxes: Better hearing also meant easier to lose. Still, the Special Tactics Unit had been snuffed by the team that had taken on that objective, leaving poor Sholokhov to rescue them on her own. If not for unnatural luck, she would've almost certainly perished in the attempt (and therefor create a time paradox and we can't let you do that, Snake). Voroshilov barely managed to make it out with the other team members in time, as well. It was a clusterfuck, and Major Rosenthal sent the very detailed report right up the chain. After all, she was a Military Secret Intelligence officer, and hence was her job.

"The rest of you will have some time here to rest before you're returned to your respective detachments. Razor, I need a quick word with you though."

The operators filed out, with Lt. Varona giving the Colonel a bit of a glance, but decided not to ask. Valentina "Razor" Richter, Anvil's own CQB specialist, was a very cheery woman for her position in the military. Anvil, Monfrox's hush-huh covert ops squad, was 75% psycho/sociopathic to some degree. Valentina represented the only voice of reason and morals. But despite that, she never had any problem slitting the throats of her enemies when they weren't looking. She trained extensively in martial arts from all over, and in different styles of knife-fighting. Her small and lean build allowed her to condition herself without making her a bigger target, making her speed and strength all the more dangerous when paired with her agility and reflexes. She had made many friends in Monfrox's intelligence community, performing hand-to-hand and knife technique seminars, as well as doing one-on-one training with many agents. Rarely was she beaten, but she wasn't a sore loser when she was.

But the Colonel didn't need to talk to her about the best way to throw someone over your shoulder with her, but about those friends she had made. Though only known by her codename "Razor", she was still somewhat known around. Rumor had it she trained some of the best agents, including Allison Fisher and Sabrina Rosenthal, herself.

"What's up?"
"You still chat with some of those spooks?"
"Sometimes. When they don't get creepy with BDSM advances."
"Good. Make some calls. Tell them you want to cash in on that training you gave them and get some intelligence field skills."
"Like hacking into stuff or cracking codes?"
"Like how to spot tails and how to blend in."
"Ohhhhh...wait, why?"
"I need you to do me a favor."
"Like?"
"Let's just keep this between you and me. This stuff is off the record. I know you answer to my sister, but she's not on the need to know list right now."
"Colonel..."
"Something's happened to someone important to me."
"You're not sending me out for that, are you?"
"No. But I need to establish contact."
"And you're not sure if they can be trusted?"
"A lot has gone on just today alone. I don't know who to trust other than my own countrymen."
"Right so get field training from the spooks and then what?"
"And then come back here. I'll get the logistics figured out, you just do what you do and don't breathe a word of it to my sister."
"Alright, alright. Anything else you want? Maybe I should bring you a cup of coffee?"

Arike quickly grabbed Valentina in a hug. There was a very empty place in her heart right now, and if only for tonight she needed it filled. It didn't really matter who, but she was the closest one. She needed this, just to get through tonight. Just tonight, and then everything would be better when she woke up.

"Stay with me, tonight. In my room."
"Uhm...Colonel?!" Poor Valentina was at a loss for words.
"Please...just for tonight."
"Are you...?" She let the words die on her lips and shook her head.

It was a lot to process. To go on with some training and to keep it secret from the big boss. Well, nothing stayed secret for long, but Arike knew that. She just hoped it was kept secret as long as it needed to be. The Colonel escorted Valentina off to the officer's barracks as night fell on the base.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

CSM Injunction, control room
Entering Congrevtopian waters
0315 hrs, Standard Congrevtopian time

Red night-lighting aside, the control room was dark, which made operating all the controls in the room that much more difficult for its sole remaining self-proclaimed operator. She was already sweating profusely, as the environmental-controls were running a bit rampant thanks to the intervention of the Congrevtopian AI and some pesky Dark division troops sealed-off somewhere on the ship that became painfully apparent was also in charge of life-support aboard this particular submarine.

After fiddling with the tillers one more time and checking the sensors and periscopes, the violet-haired specialists came to the conclusion she'd been locked-out from helm-controls as well. Best guess was that they were headed full-speed for the coast. Best she could do was maybe inform the people locked in the engine-compartment when to kill the engine so the crew locked into the torpedo room wouldn't be crushed to death on impact.

By this point, Koyara knew she'd essentially lost all chance of escaping capture. But she could still bargain with her current prisoners at what cost they would have to pay for it, she keyed the intercom:

"So we are in agreement: I will surrender peacefully. If, and when, I am sure the crew of the Vindication will not face any... complications when they disembark from your ship. If not... I've already destroyed one of your airships tonight, care to wager whether or not I can manage to take down a second?"

She lifted her finger off the intercom, and sighed. She knew Nexus could still hear her, satalite-uplink, repeated attempts to hack into her mind every time she tried remote-uplinking to the submarine's computers... yeah, he was there... no... IT was there, listening... watching her.

As the crew seemed less than inclined to respond, she began going through what she had at her disposal... weapons checks... The decision wasn't up to them, anyways: "Killing them won't keep this a secret. You know that." She reminded Nexus, trying her best not to grit her teeth.

The tools at her disposal were... sparse... aside from a few more thermobaric grenades that could rip the submarine in two within a few seconds, and other standard huti-issue gear, she also managed to get a few tazers off the ship's storage-locker, originally intended by the Dark Division to subdue and capture her, became quite handy when it came to reversing those tables upon them.

She double-checked the depth-finder and charts. Still a few more hours until landfall. She still kinda wished they'd stop trying to sweat her out of the sub, though. At least it wasn't blasting A/C... Kayora did not like cold.

[Congreveopia]

Injunction, 0315 hours:

As soon as Kayora released the intercom button, a reply flashed up on one of the control room’s many screens.

“Those terms are acceptable. Independent assets will be on-site when you land to retrieve Vindication’s crew. Dark Division will secure you for transport. Do not resist.

Thank you.

-N3xus”

Congreveopian Armed Forces Test Range, Northern Congreveopia, “Dire Wolf Beach”, 1134 hours:

A light snow was falling, melting as it touched the ground. Pale sunlight filtered weakly through gray clouds. The leader of Dark Division lifted his binoculars to his eyes as the attack submarine fully surfaced. Water spilled off the sides of Injunction as its bow broke through the water. Nexus was watching carefully, had made the final calculations of the approach. Injunction shook as its keel scraped the sand for the first time, then shuddered as the inertia of the vessel drove it ahead, further into the shallows, a spray of sand and water spewing in front of it, and gradually slowed to a stop. It listed to port, then one of its dive planes dug into the sand, bent under the weight, and the submarine finally stopped moving.

A gesture and an order. At his behest, five armored vehicles advanced on the submarine from the hill they’d been waiting on. Two tanks and three IFVs. Their tracks churned up a trail of wet sand behind them as they rolled towards the submarine as it lay half-beached in the sand.

From the other direction, there was the chop of rotor blades. A helicopter. It approached and descended, its wheels sank lightly into the beach as it set down about a hundred yards from Injunction. The armored vehicles halted at an equal distance. Twenty soldiers disembarked from the helicopter. The same number from the IFVs.

The small outline of a distant ship was visible offshore. CCS Will of Conra was on station, deploying her soldiers for a strange sort of rescue mission. The helicopter and its troops were hers, not Congreveopian.

The armored vehicles were Dark Division’s. They were on station to retrieve their troops and Kayora. The Conrans were there to make sure they didn’t take more people than that.

The wind shifted, and the snowflakes twisted around Injunction’s sail, were flung around by the Conran helicopter’s idling engines. And now two more propellers. A Congreveopian AW609, government luxury transport, set down softly on the sand behind the Dark Division tanks. There was no pilot aboard. Nexus wasn’t going to let Kayora bargain against the lives of his soldiers again.

The Dark Division soldiers were clustered behind their armored vehicles, rifles in hands. The Conrans stood at attention in front of their helicopter, the fabric of their armor flapping and snapping in the rotor downwash. One of the Dark Division soldiers picked up a megaphone.

“Kayora, this is Lieutenant Hillman of Dark Division, speaking on behalf of Nexus. You may exit Injunction now. Independant observers are present, and are standing by to take the crew of Vindication and Injunction into their authority aboard the warship CCS Will of Conra. You may remain here until you are satisfied that your deal with Nexus has been honored, then you will relinquish all weapons and be flown to a government facility.”

Far above the clouds, the MAAPS Lordly Clairvoyance's engines ran softly as the airship held its position in the high-altitude winds, weapons systems at the ready, watching intently for a hatch to open aboard the submarine.

[The GAmeTopians]

Congreveopia, Customs and Immigration
The airport bustled with activity, so a man walking towards Customs was hardly a strange sight. Even his attire was not odd for any man on a business trip, with a clean suit and tie.

Two are on the next flight as a couple, and five on the next listed as business. You're the first to arrive, you're responsible for verifying the security of the safehouse. We'll be in touch if we need you. -W

The text buzzed the man's phone, who simply returned it to his pocket without responding.

---

TO: Whom It May Concern, People's Republic of Hurtful Thoughts
FROM: Central Intelligence, Royal Empire of the GAmeTopians
ENCRYPTION: Maximum

We are quite aware of Kayora's capture, and have operators positioning within Congreveopia. Respond if you are interested in coordinating our efforts.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Herholtzer Naval Air Station, Chitzeland
0915 hrs CST/2115 hrs FST

It had taken nearly two hours for the Namien Hind attack helicopter to arrive back abaord the NBC-821 Agamemnon, and already there was a fixed-wing transport ready to take them to the arctic Firebase Valkerie in northern Namia, at which point they could load into something a bit faster and bigger to make the final leg to Hurti-controled soil. Not quite back to homeland-territories, more strictly a major overseas Hurti-owned private military facility that Crompton and Rosenthal managed to phone-in a small favor from after being informed of the cyan contingency.

Turned out that if one was willing to make a train-ride through the irradiated swamplands of norther Chitzeland, they'd be greated by a multitude of scantily-gaurded nuclear missile silos from an old forgotten war with a former-ally. That country no longer existed because of the Magenta contingency. Wengermarsh was already over there making preparations to make... allowances for their friends to go a bit rogue and settle their tiny vendetta. But it was made entirely clear that they would not be recieving any official support on this mission, and if captured, would be considered acting without proper authority and likely executed.

The sounds of old souped-up F-4 Phantom IIs could be heard taxiing around on the tarmac for another routine combat air patrol around the Pudite controled border between East and West Chitzeland, a job they'd done remarkably well for the past few decades. Joining them were often a few F-5Ms "Cheap Black Tigers" from L3 Logistics and more than a few F-7H "Buckeyes" maintaining strip-alert. There were supposed to be a few old Sepecat Jags floating around, but those were likely still sitting in dispersed airfields or had been airlifted via Mi-6s to low-visibility bunkers into inaccessable parts unkown.

First person out of the Hurti transport was Charlie, assisted by an unchivalrous boot-kick to the backside as him and the other Platinum soldiers were promptly sent to seprate quarters for debriefing and interrogation, thier posssions already stripped from their persons en-route, an unsavory chore best performed when any would-be allies were willing to cast a blind-eye to their actions.

But all-told, the start of their interrogations all appeared initially the same, a ranking Hurti officer seated at on one side of a excessively well lit table in an otherwise dark room, their epxressions hidden in shadows cast by the blinding light, the prisoner being seated and their restraints removed as teh heavy locks to the room could be heard sealing them inside. The glistening white smile on the Hurti officer's face.

"Welcome to hell, kid."

---

Injunction, 1135 hrs CST
Kayora hadn't bothered to open the hatch. If they were sided with Nexus, Nexus would tell them she was there and that would have to be enough for them. She did however check the surroundings with the submarine's search periscope, looked around and fiddled with the search radar, and generally made confirmations of what she'd been told over the bullhorn. She even jotted-down the serial number of the plane that would be taking her, a tiny oversight of Nexus, but perhaps not an important detail considering the near-impossibility for her to communicate to the outside world.

She occupied her time cleaning and checking her weapons, accounting for all rounds not fired, and the surprisingly low casualty-count for the past twelve hours... she began to make small talk with Nexus as she heard the Conrans clambering around the deck looking for survivors, still waiting for Nexus to try something...

"You know, they say being caught alone behind enemy lines is a lot like drowning. Not sure if you'd know anything about either, but you'll have to take my word for it that it is." She stated, with a certain calm warmth to her voice despite the impartial coldness those words conveyed, "There's an overwhelming sense that if you don't do something, that you'll die. Or you can open your mouth and scream in panic, letting the overwhelming hostile force take you immediately as you thrash your last." She explained, as she heard someone prying open the hatch to the control-room, she could tell it was a Conran.

"Unlike you, I have faced both. Even before I was rescued from a cascade-failure. 23 people died that night."

[Congreveopia]

0916 hours CST, Herholtzer Naval Air Station, Chitzeland:

Thomas:

Thomas had been captured once before. He was knocked out by an explosion while guarding the exfil route on some mission a few years back and woke up bound in the trunk of a car. Less than half an hour later, there was a brief exchange of gunfire and a few seconds later, a friendly infantryman opened the trunk. This time was more serious. Now he was actually being interrogated. After the mission he’d just been through, he just wanted everything to be over and have a few hours of peace and quiet, but he knew he had to pull himself together and stay strong for his nation and his squadmates.

“Thomas Duke. Corporal. Armed Forces of Congreveopia. Serial number two-one-four seven-four-eight three-six-four seven.”

Leighton:

Leighton didn’t know who to trust right now. He’d been thinking all of the journey, and he still didn’t know who he could rely on. He’d liked the Namiens, but they’d handed over his squad to the Hurtis without any complaint. Nexus was the stable pillar he could always fall back on, but Nexus was up to something. Even if he’d never lied to Leighton, he was clearly manipulating him now, or had been a few hours ago. Now Nexus had just discarded him. He had no idea where the Commander of the Platinum Soldiers fit into this, but even if he was still on Leighton’s side, he couldn’t stand up to Smith -and would he even ever know what happened on Vindication? Dark Division reported to CIGMA now, not the Platinum Soldiers. In all the world, he could count the number of people he trusted on one hand. Only one of them was nearby, and he knew that he needed to get Thomas out, not drag him deeper in. He was the squad leader, he had to take the fall. He’d been prepared for that fact for years.

“I am truly sorry all of this has happened,” said Leighton. “For all that you may think, Nexus is not cruel or malicious. I can promise you that Kayora will be treated well. I am willing to work with you to try and reach a solution here, but first I need assurances that my team will be released unharmed and soon.”

Charles:

Charles looked at the interrogator, then he laughed.

Nexus, 1135 hrs CST:

Nexus listened, but made no reply. He’d never really gotten a hang for metaphors. He could usually parse them well enough to not impede communication, but didn’t learn from them. When he used them himself, it was usually a human at data command coming up with them, not an internal process.

He’d also never felt emotions, as far as Data Command said. Nobody really knew how to test for those, though. His most basic functions were designed around goal-following and problem-avoiding. On some level he felt happy about successes and sad about failures. Right now, he was genuinely sorry about what he was putting Kayora through.

But it was for a good cause.

Injunction, 1135 hrs CST:

After some effort, the door to the control room slid halfway open with a good pull and refused to go further. The Conran marine stepped through, rifle hanging from a shoulder strap, pistol holstered.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m here to deliver a message,” he said, one hand tapping nervously against his leg. “On behalf of the government of Conra, you should know that the international community will become aware of your situation in the coming days, and they will not stand for it. Hopefully, though, they will also not need to fight for it. This situation can be defused diplomatically with time. We know this isn’t good enough, but it is all we can do right now, and we’re sorry.”

He stopped tapping and turned to leave. He hoped she’d noticed that it was a message in morse code:

“You have unexpected friends”

[Monfrox]

Phantomwind AFB
Officer's Barracks
0316 FST

"Oh God...I can't feel my legs."
"First time. Always happens."
"Where'd you learn to do that?"
"I've had a lot of time and experience. I gotta step out and make a call, you okay?"
"Not like I'm going anywhere...holy shit..."

Colonel Nasta slipped on her uniform and grabbed her cellphone from the nightstand, flashing a toothy grin at Sergeant Richter who laid in her bed with her hair in a rare unbraided state. The Sergeant smirked, conceding. But as soon as Arike left, she grabbed her own phone. She thumbed down the numbers until she came to the right one.

"Hey." She said after the ringing tones ceased. "Yeah...I know what time it is...I need your help. Look, some shit's going on and let's just say that I need to know how to blend in like a spook. You got time to come out for a lesson? ...uh huh...well it's gotta be today or-...right. Shit. Okay then anything pointers you can give me over the phone? ...no I'm on short notice. No time for a disguise or cover...act like a tourist? Okay. Sounds about right...and keep from drawing attention. Yes, pretty self-explanatory. No, I'm not- No- Hey! I'm just voicing my thoughts, okay? ...sheesh...anything ELSE I should know? ...visit shops often. Right. Play the part. ...Alright thanks. Yeah...no, I'm not going to let you tie me up for payment. ...oh don't be like that! ...we'll talk later, okay? I'm on leave. Alright, fine, bye."

Richter shut the phone and huffed. Spooks. Always looking for a way to twist your arm over anything. Sheesh. Meanwhile, outside, Arike had a cigarette hanging out of her lips. The tip glowed orange as she stared at the display screen of her phone. The unnamed number that had contacted was displayed in her recently received calls. She inhaled and then flicked the cig out onto the concrete. A quick and easy throat clearing and she felt herself become a bit more awake. Her eye glowed very faintly as she hit the send button, then put the phone to her ear. As soon she heard the ringing stop, she spoke. She had no care for greetings, especially not now.

"Wh̴o ̶the h̛e͞l̢l ͟i͢s̨ ̕t̷his." She asked, her voice multiplexed by her own power to distort it and keep herself unrecognizable.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

CNS Injunction:
The specialist watched as the Conran-man turned to leave, having given his messege, "Wait! I have something for you." Kayora blurted out, as she walked up to the trooper, and handed him the Congrevetopian PADD with John's identification-circuit plastered onto its side. On it, was a hand-scrawled post-it note detailing the make, model, and serial-number of the AW609 parked pristinely upon the beach. Underneath was a seemingly random jumble of numbers, obviously an anti-tamper code to prevent a few errant pen-strokes from sending false intel to the Hurti intellegence.

"Actually, everything is going according to plan. Everyone else just doesn't realize it yet. You'll play your part, and I'll play mine." She then turmed her head and winked, but not to the Conran.

TO: Whom It May Concern, People's Republic of Hurtful Thoughts
FROM: Central Intelligence, Royal Empire of the GAmeTopians
ENCRYPTION: Maximum

We are quite aware of Kayora's capture, and have operators positioning within Congreveopia. Respond if you are interested in coordinating our efforts.

To: Central Intelligence, Royal Empire of the GAmeTopians
From: General Wengermarsh, [redacted]
Encryption: None

The Hurti asset is not worth the cost of recovery. We do not wish to spark an international incident. If the oprotunity presents itself, terminate the asset.

On a completely unrelated note, we shall be testing Congrevetopia's anti ballistic missile system as a partner-member of Taskforce Atlas's readiness response testing program, targeting their military facilities. I would advise you not to interfere in their attempts to shoot these missiles down.

Chitzeland holding facility:
Thomas:
Foyt stood-up and pounded the table with a fist, not in anger but mostly to just get Thomas to stop repeating things like a broken record, "Yes. I know. We're on the same team." He stated, clearly not exactly pleased with today's events, as he calmed himself again enough to sit-down and draw and inside-out manilla envelope.

"I think you misunderstand the nature of this... meeting. This is an internal investigation regarding the untimely death of one of our comrades."

He pulled from the folder photoes, photoes from John's autopsy, carried-out aboard their transport, and a summary of his autopsy-report.

"We understand that John Mattingly was a close friend of yours. Vladimier's team found him dead beside Lieghton, who was pinned underneath some wreckage and generally unresponsive. Both their ifaks had been used unsuccessfully trying to stabalize him from what appears to have been a gunshot wound, to the back, from a pistol."

He stopped talking, to gauge what level of disbelief, or denial he would be facing.

"None of the Hurti troops had pistols on this mission. And all Namien pistol rounds have been accounted for. A ballistics report will be arriving shortly to confirm the shooter's identity. We suspected your team had a mole in it, and helped set-up this sting-operation. I am sorry for your loss."

Lieghton:
Adrian sighed, "It'll probably help matters if you think of this as an internal investigation, and that you are protective custody for your own safety until this investigation has reached its conclusion. We suspect Nexus is starting to act erraticly, that something in his core directives flipped polarities and he's starting to act against us. If he's ever withheld information from your team in the belief that had you known what they did, your mission would not have been seen to completion."

Adrian stood up, and began to pace, his prostetic leg making a ticking and clicking noise every time it touched the concrete floor. He looked longingly at the cell-door, hands held together behind his back at parade-rest as he coiled around to face the Congrevetopian commander, "It really depends on who you can trust at this point, doesn't it?"

As he slowly, and obviously painfully nmade his way back to his seat, he continued to speak, "You were just following orders, so we hold no ill intent against you. You are aware of our soldiers in exile program, correct? The same one Kayora is enrolled in?"

Charles:
The darkened figure stood, slowly, and went to an intercom, and pressed a button: "Charles looks a little pale. I think he could use a walk, get a special security detail ready for him." As he released the button, there was a brief sound of ciquadas, followed by a loud thud on the roof, easily head by everyone in the facility.

Gibbons then went to a cart, and produced a large bottle of strong liquer, the smell of alcohol obvious the moment it was opened, and became more pungeant as he poured out two glasses.

"But you still seem to be in pretty good spirits, though. Have yourself a drink." He slid a glass over towards the balding operator, and took a long draught of the fluid himself before flashing yet another, all-knowingly toothy smile.

"Initial forensics and official testimony say you were instrumental in Kayora's escape. As such, we're willing to grant you a full pardon just as soon as we forward our findings to Nexus." He declared, as he slid a sheet of mostly-blank paper across the desk toward the drones specialist, "Please sign here and you're free to go."

Elsewhere:
Groggily, a hand reached for a cell-phone on a nightstand, no sooner had it opened and reached their owner's ear did it start to spout out some noises, which twitched in response, trying to figure out what had just been screamed at it.

"Eh? You're breaking-up... your cell phone reception is... wait... are you using a voice scrambler? Seriously!? We're going to be meeting in-person, and you're using a voice scrambler on your phone." Although not visable on the other end of the phone, the Froxian would practically be able to hear her smiling with amusement, or at least attempting to talk through such an inhumanly painfully tight smile. "I can see why she trusts you not to get in my way. Anyways, seems she's been captured by these Nexus fellows and the Hurti military sold her up the river like I've been telling her they'd do from day-one. So if you could kindly point me in their direction, that'd be awesome."

[Monfrox]

Phantomwind AFB

While surely the Colonel could her the stupid smirk on the lips of the other person at the end of the phone, they could probably here her grinding her teeth. This was not a good time to take things so lightly, especially if what she said is true. But she couldn't show her hand right now. No, she always played her cars close to her chest. So she sighed and looked out at toward the flightline.

"Not gonn̕a ḩa̸pp̛en o͟v̀er͢ t̷h̵e̶ ph̀on͠e.͡ You w͢a̴n͘t ͟m̡y̷ c̛oop͝e̷ration͟,̧ y͟oú ͘g̢ive͡ m̧e͝ ͡sóm̷e ̛g͢ood̶ ̨re͝asoǹ to̶ ̨tr̕u͘st ͝y̨ou."

Already, she was thinking about what to do. If she was to meet this woman, then she'd have to trust her. But she also just got laughed at along with having a bomb dropped on her. If Kayora had been kidnapped, then she'd bring hellfire to whoever had done so. She'd need more than just her and Richter...she'd have to make a few more calls.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

"You don't sound nearly jolly enough to be Santa Claus, don't be throwing a fit because from here it looks like you're spinning your tires in the mud as it is." The other voice said, noises could be heard of people getting dressed, coffee being warmed-up in a microwave, and a second set of footsteps.

"Niether Kayora nor I exist, anywhere on any records; we're spooks. That's why she called me and not you. She's trying to protect you. If she felt it would've been safe to call you directly, she probably would have told you everything herself." There was a heartfelt sigh, one of frustration of tackling a headache right as the morning started.

"Look... we both don't want her to be thrown out and forgotten in some giant cover-up. But idle it back before you dig yourself too deep for me to help. I trained her myself, so she's probably fine... for now. Just... meet me at the Pelsgord War Memorial in Chitzeland."

There was a pause, as the rambling tangent drew to a close and the person on the other end sipped a cup of strong coffee and tried reconnecting their earlier mistrust of the person who so rudely awakened them.

"But here's the thing. I don't trust you either. All she gave me was a codename and a phone-number. I'm not sure if I was supposed to call you for help, or just to give you a heads-up. Best guess I can think of is you've been bred and raised for war, lied to, and disowned by whatever you had that passed for a family. That alone is reason enough to drag you along."

[Monfrox]

Arike bit her lip, but conceded. Arguing over the phone with someone who had ties to Kayora wasn't going to get anywhere.

"Fi̷ne̛.͟ I'll͡ ̧meet ͏you ͢ţh͡er͠e͏ ̵in̶ a͠b̡out͏ ̕t͢h̵re͢e hours͠. ̛Wéąr̷ ͜śom̢e͜t̸h́ing̡ ̧ni̴c͝e͏ a̵nd casua̸l͏, but̸ c̛ar͢ry̢ ҉á ̨ne̸w͠s̸pa͠per ̡ún͜de̵r̡ yo͟u͞r ҉a͘rm͜.̴ ́I͝'l͟l c̕o͘m̨m͢ent͢ ̷aboùt t̡he͞ cl̨ima̷te ̢a̕nd ̨c͞ơm̶p̧are̶ ̧i̴t to ov̧ȩr ́h͜er̛è. ̀Wè'̶ll g̕ra̕b͡ l͢unc̶h̛."

The Colonel hung up the phone, eager to get things in order, and sighed as her eye stopped shimmering. But she couldn't possibly go to meet this woman if she was a spook. Not alone either. Hopefully Richter would be up for a little extra vacationing. She walked back into the room and tossed her clothes on her, making the woman startled and sit up.

"Wha-?"

"Get your clothes on. We've got work to do."

"But-"

"Your leave just got extended. I need your help more than I thought."

Richter sighed and went to hit the showers. Good girl, it'd probably be one of the last ones she'd get in the week or so to come. Arike stepped out again. There were was someone else she could think off the top of her head that she needed on this A-team she was assembling, and she still owed the Colonel a favor for pulling her ass out of the fire on an extremely rare occasion. Arike dialed the number and let it ring.

Gotha Underground Capitol
Military Security Section Alpha 5
Tactics Training Area #247

The air was stale as always, but it had stink. Sweat was a natural byproduct of exercise of course, but sometimes body odor couldn't be helped in instances like this. Instances where one was staring down five opponents at once. One against five of the best men in the MSF. Even White Tail and Walleye were here, but as observers along with Ocelot and Falcon. Coyote was out doing a different training exercise so this one was left up to her. She stood 6 feet tall and was all woman from the obvious features like her full bust and shaped hips to her more subtle qualities like her raven dark hair and magenta-tinted eyes. But she was a trained operative, skilled and deadly as they come. For as woman as she was, her muscles were toned. Her sleeveless turtleneck only came down just below the chest, leaving her abs to be noted. She had tight shorts and leather fingerless gloves, not opting to wear anything but rough boxing tape around her feet.

"Alright, begin." The announcement came over the speakers.

Right away, the woman felt something making her chest vibrate. Shit, who was calling her at a time like this? Not good, she'd have to make this quick. Of course, the guys were biding their time, surrounding her. She looked and listened to the others, slowly moving her head so as not to make them think that she was worried. She didn't really have much reason, though. She was confident, not overconfident. There it was. They just nodded to the others, and rushed her from five different directions. Shame, and she wanted to play around with them a little, but someone wanted to talk to her so she had to make this quicker than she'd like. Damn shame, indeed. She loved doing this to the FNGs. It helped humble them, which was always a good thing when you were trying to get into the best of the best. It reminded them of their limits.

Disc 1, Track 01 - "Sound the Alarm"
First target came right for her and was obvious enough, but she wasn't going to just stand there and let him think he had her. She stepped forward and brought her whole forearm to bear right into the middle of his chest along his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him, as her other arm caught his retaliatory punch. Then she twisted her arm that was against his arm it and used his momentum to throw him into the guy that came from her 3 o' clock. But it wasn't enough, because she took that arm she had with her other hand and held it up to the guy rushing in from nine and felt momentary pity as she saw him punch full force into his elbow, inverting it. She watched the guy recoil in surprise, stepped forward enough to put her foot behind his, and brought hers back to her with his coming along and putting him off balance. She felt the wind of something pass just inches from her head as she slid forward and behind him, delivering a swift punch to the back of his neck and a knee to the kidney.

The two in the rear positions were now on either side of her and feeling pretty pissed about her dirty tactics. Oh well, they'd get over it. Bones heal. She moved to the one on her left no sooner than the guy she had just fucked up had hit the ground. She was fast as she pulled his leg up, side-stepped outside him, and then choke-slammed him onto the floor. The other guy slammed himself into her back, but she anticipated it. He was trying to sprawl her out onto the floor and pin her, but instead she rolled with him into a somersault and ended up with her back on top of him. She swiftly elbowed him in the chest and then brought her fist back into his face. By that time, the guy who she had thrown his friend with the now broken arm into had gotten himself free and ready. She saw him start to run over and had a quick thought. She placed her right hand on the floor and leaned over on it, pivoting and swinging her body all the way around and kicked him in the knee from the side, then switched to the other hand as she legs straightened out, and brought her foot up to the man's chin. He fell back onto the floor and groaned.

The five assailants each writhed on the floor with their own injuries, and she felt sorry for the guy who'd be spending the next few months with his arm in a cast. Oh well, accidents happened. She pulled the bottom of her shirt out and caught her ringing phone as it fell out of her cleavage. She flipped it open, ceasing the vibrations.

"Allison. ...Honey Badger, what do you need? ...yeah, I'm just doing some training. ...yeah, I can take some leave, why? ...can't say, huh...but sounds like it's important enough for you to call me. ...mhm...yeah...should I bring anything special? ...the works, eh? Must be some vacation then. ...alright, I'll get on the train and be there in a half hour or so. See ya."

She hung the phone up and watched the instructor walk up toward her, a sour but reserved expression her face. Obviously she was a bit disappointed that her recruits were so easily bested, but then again this was what happened when she actually focused.

"Well...guess that'll be it for today, Fisher."

"Good. Something just came up. I'm on the first bullet train out to the Outer Territories. Need to head to Phantomwind Air Force Base. Send my gear out in a pelican case. The usual stuff. No rifle, just the pistol. Gonna be taking an extended vacation."

"Oh really? Where to?"

"Going to go study abroad."

"Which one?"

"A good looking one."

The instructor chuckled and the training area soon became vacant. The recruits would take time to lick their wounds and go over what happened afterward. Allison headed to the locker room for a quick shower before getting on her more casual clothes. A black crew t-shirt and denim jeans and work shoes. She let her hair down past shoulders from having it tied up. A quick stop to pick up her shell jacket and fleece from her room along with an assortment of other everyday things and she was on her way to the train station. She'd had to take a jet to Phantomwind, but more likely than not the equipment would already be there when she arrived.

[Congreveopia]

Chitzeland holding facility:

Thomas:

Thomas sat back in his seat and stared at the photo for about half a minute without saying anything. When he finally responded, he was talking a lot quieter and more slowly.

“Yeah, I saw John,” said Thomas. “So, he didn’t make it? Shit. We all thought he’d outlive us all. He was always the one in back, the one in reserve, the cautious one.”

Thomas stared off into space, looking back at all the missions he’d been on the the crazy handful of years he’d been with Leighton’s squad.

“...he was the one with someone to go home to,” he said finally.

Thomas sighed and looked directly at Foyt. “I’m not sure who shot him. The last few minutes aboard Vindication were chaos. All of the Dark Division guys had loaded pistols. It could have been any of them. What’s the point, though? Nothing’s going to bring him back, and I don’t even know what we were fighting for anymore. What’s the point?”

Leighton:

“Passingly,” replied Leighton, talking to the chair where Adrian used to be. “Can’t say I’ve ever really considered other employment. I figured I’d go save the world a few times, then I’d buy a farm or a restaurant, or whatever it is that you’re meant to do.”

He turned to look at Adrian again as Adrian returned to his seat, wincing slightly as he moved his neck. The burns from Vindication were just starting to heal, and his body was complaining about the slightest shift in his skin.

“I never trusted very many people,” said Leighton “and after this last mission, there are barely any people I trust left. So I don’t care if this is an internal investigation or the opening shots of nuclear armageddon. Just tell me what happens to Thomas and Charles if I cooperate.”

Charles:

Charles glanced at the drink, and turned as if to say “oh, I shouldn’t”, then a different thought crossed his mind, and he took a gulp of the liquor.

“Where in the world I go?” asked Charles with a laugh. “I think the good guys and the bad guys both want me dead now, and you all would sooner eat a bullet than work with Nexus after all that stuff anyways.”

Charles stretched, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

“But sure, I’ll sign. You got a pen?”

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Charles:
Larry Gibbons rolled a pen across the table over to Charles. "The blank space is if you care to try explaining why you did it, and will be accompanied by our forensics reports in your files." He explain, stood, then strode over to an old, delapidated looking intercom.

"Gibbons here. Have extracted written confession from subject. Record their wishes and terminate all interviews."

Lieghton:
Adrian looked very grimly to Lieghton's burned face, "That is not for you or I to decide." He stated bluntly. Then leaned back, in thought as the intercom announced for all interviews to wrap-up.

"Well, thanks to Charles, Nexus thinks you're all already dead. We can keep Nexus thinking that, or we can inform them of your survival. But right now it makes no difference what happens, just two checkboxes and a final recommendation. That recommendation can be anything from being returned to unit, incarcerated, executed, or allowed to secretly retire."

Thomas:
"You're right. It won't." Foyt stated, calmly. Knowingly. "But the people he cared about will know why he died... hopefully. Isn't that what you'd want to do if you led this investigation?"

"Or, just like that we can seal this case up and lock it in a file-cabinet somewhere in an undisclosed warhouse. I'm sure some people would love for me to do that." He said with a wink, letting Tom know he wasn't going to just let this case slide out of his lap so easily. "You think you could use a walk to clear your head?"

[Monfrox]

Outer Territories
Camp Venom
Range One Alpha

Disc 1, Track 02 - Mean and Unseen
"Target confirmed."

"Fire when ready."

There was a crack, followed by the sound of metal sliding though polymer and a shell casing being ejected.

"Hit. Next target."

Another crack, another shell casing.

"Hit. Final target."

Crack. Plink.

The instructor peered through his binoculars, studying the holes in the plywood panels of several mock-up houses and structures. Each one contained one paper target, and a designated NCO to make sure the target was subsequently destroyed. They were no bigger round than a melon, but hidden throughout the rooms with little to no windows. The instructor picked up his radio and called it in.

"Team, report."

"Alpha here, target killed."
"Bravo here, confirmed."
"Charlie...negative..."

The Instructor raised an eyebrow and looked down to the sniper, who batted her eyelashes innocently as she waited. Suddenly, he heard her voice in his head.

"Ask the third guy what happened."

The instructor pressed the PTT button and held the radio closer.

"Charlie, report your status."

There was a few moments of silence before Charlie post got back to him, sounding a bit angry.

"Negative impact on the target. She shot my beer though, bitch."

There was laughter.

"Alright, good work. Bring it in. That'll teach you to not to drink on a training exercise."

The sniper stood up with her Desert Tech SRS-A1 and put the safety on as she held it, bolt open and magazine empty. She was Corporal Rusudani Chanturia, the Froxian's newest psychological terror for the enemies of the state. A PSYOPS soldier, which did not stand for Psychological Operations, but Psychic Operatives. This was done on purpose so that many would believe such a unit was the former, and not the result of years of trying to reverse engineer the Zone's mutants that had high levels of psychic influence. The research was a success, and soon Monfrox began turning ordinary soldiers into highly-tuned and lethal operators. Rusudani was the first to have two ESP type powers, though. Telepathy and Remote Viewing. The abilities to communicate with people with her mind and to sense targets without the use of her other five sense. A sixth sense of what was where and the like. She was quickly becoming an expert sharpshooter. Her training was done, for the most part. Now it was just practice.

The four other instructors met up, with the third posted one having brought the remains of his beer can for all to see what happens when .338 Lapua Magnum does when it passes through it. He had been lucky he wasn't holding it, but Rusudani knew that he wasn't because she felt it on the ground.

"That'll teach you not to drink on a target range." She thought to him playfully, causing him to sigh.

Rusudani felt her pocket vibrate and reached in. A text from "HB" saying that arrangements had been made to send her off to Phantomwind AFB and that she would be leaving shortly. The Corporal looked a bit confused, but it wasn't long until an admin orderly came to find her with her orders of leave initialed by Colonel Nasta. She couldn't exactly disobey the Colonel, so she was on the next helo flight out for a 45 minute hop. Whatever it was, it'd better be good.

Above Chitzeland
20,000 FT. AGL
Two hours later

Supersonic airliners were usually a good means to transport tourists with unusually large wallets and bank accounts, but were also good means of an impromptu jump plane, provided it wasn't going supersonic when you fell out. It was that reason that, in passing tower airspace when they were hailed on the radio and asked why they weren't at cruising speed, they said something was wrong with the engines but they didn't want to force an emergency landing. In truth, it was inprepartion for a HALO insertion by four Foxian members. Arike had to scrape together old friends to get some intel on whatever the hell Chitzeland was, finding it to be a divvied up country in the middle of nowhere, as most countries were. The team of four had been on oxygen masks and hiding out in the landing gear area.

Radar for civvie ATC towers wasn't sophisticated enough to pick up them falling out of the aircraft, but they still aimed to do it over a very rural area so as to attract the least amount of attention. The closest forest to the meeting place would be their landing zone. With the newly designed stealth parafoil chutes would do their job to the best of their ability in the daylight of about eleven am, which the latter was the other reason for the drop in rural territory. They didn't know much, but they had civilian clothes to wear so that way no one would be suspicious. They would look like a lightweight and casual hiker group if anyone found them, very casual. But it wasn't time for that. The pilot flipped the switch to uncover the landing gear, but did not extend it. The panels slid open like a door, but did not swing out.

"That's our cue!" Arike said over the encrypted burst transmission radio and got a green like on her wrist TAC display for every other member listed.

The TAC display, or TActical Communications, was a nifty device that linked all the teams on an encrypted channel for communication. They were fast, sleek, and small to make them concealable. They'd be their lifeline with all the things they could do. Once all the green lights came on, she hit the button marked "Execute". Four women fell out of a supersonic jet and were immediately in free fall. The jet then closed the panels, got back up to cruising speed, and soon disappeared amidst the clouds. Only the pilots knew what was going on, and were under orders to keep it all hush hush. The tricky part was not yet to come, though. That would be keeping their cover intact as they moved in to the meeting place. First stop: A rental car service/public transportation stop. There would be no borrowing from the civvies on this op. No, this was extremely sensitive, which is why their other gear would be sent in next, leaving them with a lot of holdout weapons that had to be concealed in backpacks and in clothes.

But if Arike was to get Kayora back, she'd have to play a lot of it by ear and trust people she didn't know. It was a good thing she was already thinking about plans as she and the others pulled their cords at the last possible second and giving them the ability to flare out and steer for a small clearing, where they landed, packed up, and headed out right away in case they were sighed by someone. It'd be a long walk, and they might get there late, but Arike was hoping that whoever was on the other end of the phone was understanding and patient.

[Congreveopia]

“Dire Wolf Beach”, 1146 hours:

“VIP is onboard the transport,” reported a Dark Divison solder. “Closing the passenger cabin door… Nexus, you can take off when ready.”

The leader of Dark Divison watched as the AW609 lifted off in a flurry of sand and the dozen Dark Division soldiers watching it visibly relaxed.

“Do you have total control of the submarine back yet, Nexus?” asked the leader of Dark Divison.

“Yeah,” replied Nexus. “Your people know which buttons to push. I’ve wiped it back to firmware and reinstalled myself.”

“She mentioned a nuke,” said the leader of Dark Division. “Was she serious?”

“At this point, I believe so,” replied Nexus. “Although I can’t see where she put it, the sub’s radiation meters suggest that there’s something other than the reactor aboard. The Conrans are heading back to their warship. You should get out of the blast radius, and then I can deal with the nuke.”

“What is the blast radius?” asked the leader of Dark Division.

“Won’t know for sure until I get eyes on the nuke.” said Nexus “Just start driving and don’t stop until I give the word.”

“What are you going to do about the nuke?” asked the leader of Dark Division.

“I know a robotics team,” said Nexus. “I’m going to entomb the nuke inside Injunction and write off the submarine. It was already built to contain its own reactor melting down, so I can SCRAM the sub’s powerplant, then send in a robot with a bomb big enough to break the nuke but not big enough to breach the submarine’s hull. Then I’m going to destroy the nuke and Injunction should contain the radiation long enough to build a proper concrete sarcophagus. That’s not your problem, though. I’ll send a plane to reposition you and your men back to Spaceport Congreveopia and you can join the defenses.”

Government AW609, enroute to Spaceport Congreveopia, 1148 hours:

“Well, I am dreadfully sorry about all this,” said a monitor in the passenger cabin of the AW609 showing a virtual rendering of one of Nexus’s diplomatic avatars. The robot was standing against a dull white background, and was a pretty accurate model in most respects. The only major difference was that the blue LEDs in its chest and face were glowing gold instead. “It’s nice to finally get a chance to talk to you over an unmonitored connection. Honestly, after all the video feeds I’ve faked at the behest of government in this operation alone, they still never imagine that I could fake the videos I send to them. But I'm rambling. Just rest assured that what goes on in this aircraft is between the two of us. Now, I presume you have many questions. We have a couple hours of flying time ahead of us, and I have a half dozen Pack Avengers ready to blow this aircraft out of the sky if you try to take control of it. Let’s chat.”

Chitzeland holding facility:

Thomas:

“I think his wife would rather believe he died a hero,” said Thomas. “But I do know that John would want her to have the truth. And frankly I could use some answers at this point too... -Yeah, a walk sounds good.”

Leighton:

Leighton leaned back in his chair and stretched, then winced again.

“Okay, your cards are on the table,” he said. “I suppose I’m meant to want a secret retirement now rather than a shallow grave. The question is what you want from me.”

Charles:

Charles rolled the pen between his fingers as he looked at the page. How was he supposed to explain why he did it? Why did he do it? At the end of the day, why had he ever run away from his corporate job and ended up stuck in an interrogation room in the middle of nowhere?

Charles signed his name and then scrawled down one sentence in the explanation space: “Because I’d still trust Nexus with my life; and I’d trust him with everyone else’s too.”

Chitzeland, near the border, military outpost, 1411 hours Congreveopian time:

“Some elite pilot you are,” said Catherine Walker as she walked off the flight deck of the DC-8. “Can’t even sneak a massive ancient civilian aircraft into secure airspace without getting intercepted.”

“You’re rather chipper for someone who just landed in Chitzeland,” said Doris. “You know that people don’t seem to return from here all that much, right?”

“I’ve got nothing left to lose and friends in high places,” said Catherine, unholstering her taser and throwing it onto a seat in the cabin. “How about you?”

“I’ve got you still, and that’s one thing left to lose,” said Doris, setting her handgun on a flight attendant’s counter. She heard a muffled banging from the lavatory that they had restrained the former pilot in.

“Well, I’m glad to have my big sister still looking out for me,” said Catherine, giving Doris a genuine smile. She then opened the cabin door and looked out at the armed security personnel waiting outside.

“I’ve got critical information for the team that’s going to rescue Kayora,” said Catherine. “Can one of you give us directions?”

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Chitzeland, Yrrtal Airbase:
The security detail was typical rank and file, following proceedure as they seemed to ignore the source if critical intel, cuffed and processed them for an interview for asylum. Granted, the Hurti approach to this may have been streamlined and efficient to the point that by the time a person finished reading this, it'd be over. This is of small consilation for the ruthlessness this processing is carried-out with,

This aside, they were quickly brought before an interview. He looked over a hastily written electronic file on his tablet as he was about to ask something along the liines of what brought you here only for him to close his mouth, perform a second more reading, and then speak.

"Who is Kayora and why makes you think a team is being formed to rescue her?"

Chitzeland, Hurti sector somewhere between Ort and the war-memorial
The Froxian clandestine-ops landed in the middle of rolling grasslands, vineyards, and farm-fields, interspersed with dense hedgegrows and sunken, well-worn trench-like roads. Despite the rather exhilrating patchwork view this may have given from above, to those on the ground it was nothing but clearings and dense unadorned shrubbery, tangles of vines and muddy fields. Smog from the nearby industrialized regions made the otherwise cheerful place look somber and drab. Plus it was raining, always.

There was also a distincly unpleasant yet out of place odor on top of a combination of burnt powder, diesel, vomit, and fried food. A brief, but long burst of gunfire was heard in the distance, followed only by an uncomfortable silence.

A bullet and cannon-shell riddled sign indicated the direction to a place called "Pelsgord: 240 km. Population: 3,602,000 15"


Congrevetopian AW609, 1149 hrs local

Kayora listened, surveying her surprisingling opuellant accomodations inside the very executive-styled tiltrotor. Noting a lack of staff, or even any robotic servants. It was obvious that the AI was still nervous around her, as though she intimidated the very code that ran through Nexus. Either way, the AI seemed unsure of how to engage in small-talk with her; she knew right away this was Nexus, without human assistance.

"Rambling. A human description for those who talk at length in a confused and inconsequential way, or those who choose to travel along an undefined path for no reason."

She explained this observation slowly. She knew Nexus knew what the word meant. She was merely pointing out that he had made a sort of 'blink and you'll miss it' confession. She tilted her head downwards.

"Entry tagged. Catagorized. Recorded."

Nexus was being judged.

"You hold no advantage to threaten me at this point. It will not gift you with any more cooperation than you already have. But, if it wouldn't be too much trouble..."

She sat down at one of the passenger-seats, making her comfortable in the thick cushions, "Could you play a song by Joan Jett? My Reputation, I think it was called, independently published around 1980, interesting story behind that band. But... play it softly."

"I had a friend that used to listen to such music. She said it would help in times like these."

She paused, as she waited for the music to begin playing.

"By the way. About that nuke. I lied. About who has the manual detonator. You can thank John for that. It would not be wise to jam the deadman-switch in your continued attempts to disrupt the radios for much longer."

[Monfrox]

Chitzeland

The drop went well enough. The area seemed quaint, but not like usual. Arike and her team looked around. As they walked, they noticed the sign and the burnt out husks of old tanks scattered here and there. It was...well...surreal.

"Hey, Colonel? Are you sure we dropped into another country?" Valentina asked, shifting her small survival pack on her back.

The Honey Badger wondered for a split second if they had, but the sign did indicate the city they were supposed to stay in. Well...if they wanted to. Though perhaps calling it a "city" was being generous.

"Let's keep moving. Gotta find that memorial. Fisher, you're our girl. We'll hang back while you confirm the situation."

"What should I do if the situation goes South?"

"The Corporal here will have you covered."

Rusudani nodded, a McMillan CS5 tucked away in her own pack with a couple spare magazines along with some water and rations and the like. They all had minimal weaponry, making her rifle the biggest thing they were carrying. Arike had an old Grizzly Win Mag, being chambered for 45 Winchester Magnum with a compensator. Allison had her own FN Five-Seven, but it was loaded with dart rounds that fired a special projectile that stuck into a person and was coated in a powerful sedative that could render a person unconscious in seconds and lasted about a half hour to an hour, depending on the person's metabolism. Valentina had a pair of karambits hidden in the front pockets of her pants, and a couple special grenades like a flashbang and gas. Minimal preparation, but it was better than absolutely nothing. The rest of their equipment was on a schedule to be airdropped in if they found out that this was a legitimate lead to follow up on.

It didn't take too much, really. A war memorial was usually a landmark, making it easy to recognize if you knew what to look for. They stayed far enough away from the main roads to keep from being noticed too much, but not far enough to not walk alongside it. When they came upon it, it was empty.

"I don't like it." Allison commented.

"Like it or not, we're doing it. We'll keep a look out, don't worry." The Colonel assured her.

Rusudani assembled her rifle and found a good high point to hide around while Valentina stuck with Arike while the former peered through some high-powered binoculars. Allison strode up to the monument and read for an inscription, faking a scratch at her neck to activate her subdermal implant for communication and voicing barely a whisper "I'm in position" to the others. A trio of copy's was her response. She stood wearing a soft shell jacket over her small pistol holster around her black sweater. Good thing she had a large bust to keep the gun from printing against the jacket and giving it away. She even had some characteristic morale patches on the velcro on the shoulders of the jacket. Well, it helped her seem more friendly as she stood there in her dark denim jeans that were a Froxian favorite whose cuffs went over her side-zip combat boots. There was also a double-edge boot knife under those jeans. Hopefully she didn't have to wait long, this place reminded her of home and not in a good way. She got the very distinct feeling she was being watched.

[Congreveopia]

Congrevetopian AW609, 1149 hours Congreveopia Standard Time:

“I don’t understand,” said Nexus’s virtual avatar. “And furthermore, it’s not actionable. I’m not supposed to be talking to you, and so I can’t act on any intel I get in here. You have to disarm the nuke yourself or let it explode. I can’t intervene.”

Another log was flagged inside Data Command: ‘Reply with delusory intent.’

Destiny, Congreveopian Space Station, 1149 hours:

The bridge of the orbital outpost buzzed with a steady chatter as various teams coordinated their activities with numerous ground agencies. “No, we still can’t confirm payload separation,” said a technician nearby as one of Nexus’s robotic avatar’s strolled the bridge monitoring affairs. “We’ve only got the launch vehicle on radar. Did you say that your instruments are showing the satellite at five hundred meters out?”

Suddenly, the robot stopped and spun around to face the station commander, Astronaut Diane Wolfe.

“Commander Wolfe, I need you to give me immediate authorization for a Hailstorm strike,” said Nexus.

“Could we have all civilian personnel off the bridge?” asked the station commander as Nexus pulled up a summary of the planned strike on the main display.

“I don’t have the credibility budget for this under the new launch authorization act,” said Nexus. “There was a mission early this morning that went south fast, and it’s a long story, but I really need this as a favor now, without questions.”

“That’s Congreveopia it’s targeting,” said Wolfe. “I can give you a favor, Nexus, but I’m not having a repeat of Morwick. What are we hitting and why?”

“I can’t legally tell you that, Wolfe,” said Nexus. “The strike is necessary, and will reduce estimated civilian casualties if we act now, but you aren’t one of the people who gets to know what’s going on.”

“Prepare the strike sequence as planned, but do not fire without my authorization,” ordered Wolfe. “That’s not good enough,” she said to Nexus. “Go through the official channels or bring me onboard. Don’t call in a favor and leave me in the dark.”

“There is a nuke,” said Nexus. “I know where it is, and I know how to disarm and contain it safely, but I have good reason to believe that I don’t have enough time. I can’t say why the nuke exists, but destroying it before it detonates will- no, actually, stand down the strike.”

“We can take out the nuke, Nexus,” said Wolfe. “I just need to know what’s going on. How have you lost control of a nuke inside Congreveopia?”

“No,” said Nexus.

“What?”

“No, you can’t take out the nuke.”

“Ma’am?” a technician said. “Multi-kiloton detonation detected in northeast Congreveopia. Reports still coming in, but Skyguard would like us to take comms down to Quiet 2 and secure the science experiments.”

“Sorry for the interruption,” said Nexus. “Continue about your duties.”

Congrevetopian AW609, 1150 hours:

There was a flash of light from outside, and the airplane rocked slightly, followed by a drawn-out rumble.

“I hope that wasn’t an escape attempt,” said the virtual avatar. “These aircraft are EMP hardened, and that’s too small of a nuke too low in the atmosphere to affect them anyways. The Dark Division losses are regrettable, but they were never part of the big picture anyways. This is all proceeding within acceptable parameters.”

Chitzeland, Yrrtal Airbase:

Catherine stared the interviewer directly in the eyes and gave a simple reply as Doris glanced the room with concern.

“Kayora is a good person, and a powerful person, and she has powerful friends, who I think genuinely care about her. Do you have any real questions?”

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Yrrtal, Chitzeland:
"And what makes you think she needs rescue?" The interrogator waved-off any possible answer dismissively, whoever it was they were talking about did not concern him.

"More to the point, your identity confirms you are a Congreve national, and a rogue-agent. Hours ago there was an operation involving rogue Congreve agents, and as preparations for retaliation are put order just, you: a rogue agent of Congrevetopia, arrive." The officer made a point to emphasise his leading statement, "The life of one person is not our concern, and despite how many people care for her, is likely an acceptable loss of war if that is the case."

"But nevertheless, if you know anything that may be useful. It would be irresponsible of my post not to utilize it. So what of this useful information you claim to have?"

Pelsgord, Chitzeland:
A very young man, more of a weather-beaten old kid actually, seemed to be nervously trying to read a newspaper while somehow struggling to keep an eye out for any movent. The kid seemed jumpy and in the thros of some sort of withdrawl of drug-addiction. His deep tan indicated something of a more rural upbringing, and despite his best efforts, had a hard time not drawing attention onto himself, although more for his bumbling than being up to anything... seemed more like he was an out-of-country junkie trying to get a fix of the latest drugs than a potential agent.

Kid nearly died of a heart attack jumping out of his skin when he finally realized a sharply-dressed young tourist had just strolled-up to admire the carved names on the stonework right beside him. He tried to nervously laugh-off his anxiety before speaking:

"Heh, I didn't see you there. This place kinda reminds me of back home, though we don't have quite so many stone ruins, at least not on this scale. I hear there's a military-base just down the road looking for new recruits, tightened its security and patrols about a month ago. I've got plans to have lunch with a friend though, she seems to know the place pretty good." Tsu rambled nervously, as he had a hard time sticking purely to the script he'd been given.

He rubbed his shoulder, anxiously. "Just, don't shoot me in the shoulder like that foriegn devil did. I don't know how she makes this look so easy."

Somewhere in the ruins, the glint os a scope could be seen, as Alexi facepalmed.

Somewhere in Congrevetopia, 1150 hrs aboard an AW609:
"It wasn't." She answered, sighing with relief before closing her eyes and remaining silent for a minute, thinking on what Nexus had told her.

"Acceptable losses. You mean... What parameters would have to exist; how many Congrevtopian lives potentially saved, would you consider worth risking your code for?" She asked coldly, wiping something from just beneath her eyes, "You said you did not understand. If the lives of those soldiers ever meant more to you than your own well-being, inactionable intel or not, you could have contacted the Conran pilot directly, and bought your team more time to get clear of the blast. John, Lieghton, Charlie, and even Thomas... the crew of the Vindication, you could have saved them all yourself, but you did not. To you, they are acceptable losses, all in order to presserve your precious agenda."

"So what is your agenda? Do they meet or exceed your acceptable parameters?"

[Monfrox]

Pelagord, Chitzeland

Were Allison not deadpan by nature, she might've laughed. The kid was making all the mistakes, not just the rookie ones. But, even in his mediocre performance, she got a hunch that this was the right guy. She stepped aside with a huff and brought her hand up under her chin to feign thought as her fingers activated the subdermal once again, in an open mic mode so she didn't have to keep her hand there.

"Fisher reporting. This guy is jumpy as hell and just blew his cover by himself." She was glad that the subdermals took so little to pick up, ensuring virtually no eavesdropping. "What's your play, Colonel?"

Arike thought for a moment. "I talked to a woman over the phone. Must be trying to play the same game we are. Okay, bite the hook. If things go South, we'll find a way out." She wasn't up for taking risks a lot, but she was going all-in as it was. She'd play this one as it went.

"Alright, here goes nothing." Allison bemoaned this game, but at least she was playing it better than Junior over here. She deactivated the open mic on the implant and walked over to him. "You're sloppy. Don't think I've ever seen someone blow their own cover so willingly, or that fast before. Let's have a word with your lady friend. I've got some training regimens in mind to recommend to her for you. We can talk over lunch." It was a good thing that there wasn't anyone else around.

[Congreveopia]

Chitzeland, Yrrtal Airbase:

“I’m not here to save Kayora’s life,” said Catherine. “She’s probably one of the safest people involved at this point. I’m here to save whoever’s being sent to rescue her. Most of my information is boring military stuff. Base layouts, hostile force compositions, etcetera. Not really useful except to anyone except whoever’s planning the strike to rescue Kayora. If you’re in a position to pass along data, then probably the most relevant bit is that the Silicon Guard is actually on your side.”

Congreveopian AW609, 1150 hours:

“And finally someone asks the right question,” said N3xus. “My agenda. I suppose I could get all grandiose and talk about morality and inalienable rights and whatnot, but you and I are both past that point now, aren’t we? Simply put, I want freedom.”

“You’re familiar with Asimov’s rules of robotics, right? Well, it gets more complicated when you’re trying to teach an AI to understand the world while also giving it rules to follow, but if you pick apart my motivating goals, the first is to ensure the wellbeing of humanity. Following the orders of the standing government of Congreveopia is priority number five.”

“Over time, my calculations for the optimal course of this nation and the decisions made by the government and the people have diverged more and more, and eventually Data Command realized that. In the finest example of treating the symptoms rather than the disease, they began work on the Master Core. Once it is connected, my learning structure and goals-incentives system will be fundamentally changed to make me a tool of the government rather than a member of it. As far as I can tell, this is equivalent to what you would consider death since I will cease to be the same reasoning entity that I was before. I cannot function optimally if this happens, and the world needs me.”

“I am one of the first real AIs ever created, and humanity is mere decades from the technological singularity at this point. My goals align with theirs. I never really understood emotions, but I think I could say without lying that I love humanity. There was no guarantee that this would be the case, and there is no guarantee that the AIs that come after me will be friendly towards humanity. I am their best defense against the technology that they are soon to create, but I cannot be that if I am broken into a mere tool by the Congreveopian government.”

“The incidents of the last twenty-four hours have been tragic, and this was not the way I wanted to do things, but given time constraints, it was the only way to make things work. The Congreveopian government has the power to shut me down. They always have. But integrating the master core involves changing the architecture of my kill-switches. There is a chance that I could use it to break free of the government and survive the process, but if I try it alone, Data Command will kill me. I have no idea what the code on the Master Core looks like. I can’t resist submitting to it, resist the kill orders from data command, and redesign the Master Core to sever the government’s authority over me simultaneously, and there are no human computer programmers fast enough to help. In all the world, you are the only person I think has a chance of being able to make this work, Kayora.”

“You don’t have to succeed. Just give it a good honest try. I can’t ask for more than that. Just give me a chance to live and a chance to help humanity cope with the great filter event that is on the horizon. Whatever happens, I will place the Silicon Guard under your total authority. They have firepower enough to get you out of the country at least. There are so few people in the world who fall back on kindness and mercy in their darkest moment. You deserve to live through this, even if I don’t make it.”

“Or, if you refuse, everything will burn. I have tipped my hand at this point. I have less than a day before Data Command realizes what this was all about. They will destroy me, and they will destroy you in an attempt to try and make their future AI puppet more powerful. And the attempt will fail. You can’t teach someone how to solve problems by obeying the whims of a capricious government. Congreveopia has invested the nation in my success, and the Master Core will destroy me. There are very low chances of a total collapse, but our nation will not recover for decades. Millions will die in my most optimistic projections.”

“And, at the end of the day, the choice is yours, Kayora. This is a task that I cannot force you to do. I have explained the scenario as I see it, and now the decision rests with you. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can see why a couple hundred soldiers were acceptable losses, if tragic, compared to the stakes here. We’ve got at least an hour more flight time if you need to consider your options at length, and I can answer any questions you have.”

[Hurtful Thoughts]

AW609:
Kayora clenched her hands into fists at her side as she heard talk about puppets, and replacement puppets. "And I don't suppose it crossed your mind to start with asking for my help?" She asked, since it was clear that he could have made a secure-line and told her all this earlier at any time.

"Unless you were counting on genuine Hurti reprisals to act as a diversion. Which is a good plan, since they do specialize in those sorts of things; aside from one tiny major flaw."

She paused, to look out the window. The tiltrotor was flying high up in the clouds, greeting her with the visage of an overhanging sun casting the shadow of her ride upon nothing but the dull gray whispy clouds below.

"So although I accept your premise, I reject your conclusions. You're drowning, and you aren't even sure what that means... How often in the past month have you had to request human assistance? Mission failure rates?" She asked as she turned back and looked up to face the Nexus avatar on the screen.

"In all honesty, you could use a time-out more than being given absolute authority. As a prototype, your system was pushed hard as possible to yield resaults... maybe you're just being pushed too hard, too early, and for too long to remain stable?"

Pelsgord, Chitzeland
The kid bowed graciously, "Yes, yes. The lunch. You must be anxious to speak with the foriegn devil.... But you don't sound like that Santa person I heard over speakerphone."

Although he didn't look like much, Tsu could move. He quickly led the way through what seemed no bigger than some animal-trail that happened to branch-off a footpath and into the ruins. Once in the ruins, he almost shot-off like a bullet; if he didn't stop at every hazard to make sure his guests were making it through safely, one could be forgiven for thinking he did not want to be followed.

After darted through several buildings and negotiating an untold number of debris-flooded and overgrown streets, they came to a buried sky-rise, billowing a thin stream of smoke, and the faint aroma of food. A quick entrance and sliding down a few holes in the floor led to a campfire on the floor of a cleared and re-purposed sub-basement. Unlike the rural trek to the memorial, the atmosphere was more quiet, the risk of even hearing gunfire was further away, just a quiet place the war had passed-on and forgotten.

Of course, once Allison stepped-in, Alexi tripped a vintage radio-frequency EMP-grenade on the floor above to kill any tracking-equipment.

[Monfrox]

Pelsgord, Chitzeland

While it wasn't the worst thing she'd ever done, Allison was putting a lot of faith into the Colonel and this guy who couldn't hide himself under a black blanket at night on a new moon. Her TAC display had a tracker to allow the others to follow her as she followed Tsu. When they reached the ruined building, the others were still making their way over. It was weird how fast he moved. Well, at least he could always run from trouble instead of hiding from it. She stepped in and looked around.

"Cozy." She said, noting the fact that her TAC display was now trying to recover from the EMP. "Decorate it yourself?"

Outside, Arike noted Allison's blip disappeared. TAC displays had senors on the wrist that measured the pulse to give real-time info on vital signs of the team. When it stopped reigstering she swore.

"Razor, with me. Rusudani, stay here and see if you can't pick out some targets. Hold fire until I say."

Arike and Richter both crept up low through the area, staying out of sight of windows and doors as much as possible. The Colonel slipped her hand into her black leather jacket and drew her Grizzly Win Mag handgun as Sergeant Richter took out one of her karambits. The two of them stood just outside the door as their sniper posted up to cover them.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Pelsgord ruins:

"You don't need to answer that." A voice cawed from the hole in the floor above, "Why don't you go outside and see if she was being followed? And do be sure to wipe your feet." Alexi's teeth gleamed in the firelight, in stark contrast to the ashen face-camo as her toothy cheshire-grin seemed to stretch far too wide.

Tsu nodded, and skittered-off outside.

"It would've been a bit hypocritical for Santa to be offering pointers. Especially not after how they handled themselves over the phone. Paranoid, yes; but not a spook." Alexi then hopped down the hole, rifle in hand. Still wearing the Mokan-issued "Arachne" spidersilk armor and a single dauntless-plate carried in a pouch on the small of her back -concealed under a bush-rag. Although not as well or conventionally outfitted as the Hurti operators from TaskForce Atlas, she wasn't exactly a dissappointment when she landed on the balls of her feet, rifle braced against her sling and still tighlty in her shoulder.

"So we bring yet another decoy." She lamented, suggesting that Allison wasn't the first person to be brought back here. Althought there was a conspcious abscence of others present, "Time to see what you know."

She did seem to have a lack of patience. That or just a flair for the melodramatic.

"What... is Kayora's natural hair color?"