Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2013 1:53:58 GMT -5
imgur.com/YiNWEy8
It started with the best of intentions. Humankind had outlived the Earth. When the crude oil had been completely tapped out the inhabitants of Earth were forced to turn to solar power to fuel their technologies. But years of pollutants had dimmed the sunlight, and in time one of mankind's fears came to pass. Inevitably, the polar ice caps melted at an increasing rate and Earth's land masses began to shrink as ocean and sea encroached upon the land continents. Land became more precious and the world's population had multiplied as it did when advancements in medicine allowed for longer life spans, fewer bouts of illness, and the death rate had decreased, much to mankind's delusions of success. There were just too many people to contend for the shrinking resources that were required for survival. Further rationing was necessary as the population crowded toward one another and the death rate began to rise as starvation became a real threat. It was just a matter of time before the fighting began as one civilization or another wrestled for prime purchase. In an attempt to solve the problem of a shrinking amount of food, the greatest technological minds set to work, with assistance the the United Space Program, to create what the common people fondly coined as "Garden Snowglobes'' in space, as years of research had already been compiled thanks to the United States's past efforts to grow plants in, initially, space shuttles. This knowledge combined with technological breakthroughs, self-sufficient gardens were placed above the Earth's atmosphere, huge greenhouses that used the Sun's undimmed light from its vantage point to supplement what Earth no longer could produce.
Then the Earth's core began to cool. Just as the oceans had lapped up onto the land the cold began to slowly freeze the expanse of water and in many places the Earth began to turn to arctic conditions. The world was not completely prepared for such conditions and even more of the population began to die out. Man had outlived the Earth, had worn the planet to ruin. Humankind had no choice but to put aside their differences in what was termed "For the Common Good." Mankind needed to find a new home, and very soon. With the minds of geniuses, funding from the wealthy, and using what advancements from close to a century of research and technology had been fruitful, hope returned to humanity as an answer to their problems bloomed into existence.
It was the "Snowglobes" that hatched this idea. If these gardens in space could be created, why not create an entire world, a new planet? Once people latched on to this idea a fervor rocketed through the world's populace as every single soul had realized that time was running out. The nuclear bombs that had been at the ready by frenzied warmongers whose desperation was dimming all logic were seized and modified. Years of study by the Space Program, under guidance by the greatest minds in Astronomy, had deduced that a planet may be created by the principle of planetary condensation, the principle that had given birth to man's own solar system. Getting the formula down was no easy task and after failure upon failure a miniature planet was successfully created within the solar system, a planet about the size of the moon but just as dead and cold. It was thought that nuclear fusion's assistance may warm the core of a larger planet and provide a suitable habitat for life. So man reached out to distant space, further and further from his own solar system to find a distant star, beyond the reach of Pluto and various planetoids, as the dead cold of space gave way to a warm crucible of possibilities.
Thus, a new planet was birthed with humankind's best efforts and rekindled hope. Now all there was to do was wait for this accelerated planet to reach its prime for human colonization. And in the meantime, civilization came back together to unite into a federation, an expansion of the classic concept of the United Nations. Then crept in the question on who would be the first to populate this new world. Initial decisions were easy to make. The world's most brilliant minds, for one. More were chosen for their knowledge of skills deemed necessary for colonization, such as architects, mechanics, doctors and so on.
Then hatched the idea of a superior class of colonists and genetic research flared as man began to fine tune itself for worthy subjects. Genetics of human DNA were altered. Mutations were bred out of the new generations, each in succession, until some may coin the "ideal human" was created. Further efforts, with what remained of the economy that had not been exhausted, moved into making spacecraft, cargo ships, passenger transport, fitted with the world's most advanced technologies. Bit by bit humankind prepared for the exodus of man to this new world. The "extra seats" left over after careful selection of who was most worthy to colonize were snapped up by the wealthy and influential. Those that would be left behind would be giving the ultimate sacrifice. It was inevitable, there was only so much room on the transports, and the cargo ships bursted with what was needed for the exodus across space. Of course the finest breeds of those animals, both domesticated and wild, would be transported along with humans and a cache of seeds carefully preserved, so that mankind may have the means to feed itself. Something of a “Noah's Arc,” as some may call it.
Then the waiting was over. The chosen left their loved ones behind and filed onto the transports. When hatches and doors were closed, panic began to spread among those that were to be left behind. Bodies surged forward, hands clawing at the edges of the sealed doors, as the populace came to the realization that their time on earth, their very lives, inevitably would extinguish. Solar panels flexed into position as the fleet began to take off from Earth's surface, and there were those extinguished by the expelling heat and energy, crowding the landing pads as they wailed their misery.
As passage through space towards the new Terra commenced and as time passed as it would when traveling the expanse of the known galaxy, knowledge was passed on to a new generation as valuable information would not dare be lost. The young practiced with equipment as they were schooled in the sciences, medicine, the fine arts, technology and agriculture. However, there were those that faded into oblivion before given the chance to grow, in fear that their inferior genetic stock would jeopardize the efforts of so many years in creating the perfect human. "For the Good of Mankind" was a phrase that morphed into common law. Mothers and fathers were fearful of alienation from society when genetic defects or mutations were apparent at birth and would quietly destroy these "birthed abominations" mercifully because, within the enclosed confines of those vessels whose walls were thick to keep out the death of cold space, there were those zealots of this common law that believed in it so much that they would be less merciful in annihilating anyone or anything that threatened this law. So births were uncelebrated, quiet, and private.
Those young in generation became the new leaders of this selected society, learned in the harsh realities of life, bursting with knowledge of both the mind and technology and were now called Generation Zero in the hope that from this new breed of "super humans'' would seed the way for a utopia, a new Earth, Terra, that the mistakes of mankind would not be re-lived. It was a second chance and a new beginning.
Utopia was built, the ultimate heart of civilization, the first city, what was meant to be the ideal society. Only the best of everything provided the building blocks for this sprawling, but confined, expanse. Just as the "Snowglobe gardens" were confined to retain its purity, mutations of winnowed, genetically altered super plants allowed them to thrive, so was Utopia. A shiny sheen encased this perfect city, an orb of protection against the harsh wild beyond.
But not every mind was suited for life in Utopia, not every soul "divine," not every thought peaceful. WIth the human good comes the human bad, and those unfit for society, murderers, criminals, and society's misfits were transported into a new populace: A high security prison within its own protective bubble, to keep threats in instead of keeping threats out. This prison was connected to Utopia by underground tunnels, carefully patrolled and policed. Humans were transported in and never out. Those condemned to prison would live out their miserable lives within its confines. And ever outward was the wild, barely hospitable conditions where mutations were purged from utopia, both animal and human. The natural plant life that had grown outside the gleaming city, which was winnowed out of gardens and crops, was harsh and unforgiving, poisonous and brutal.
A new generation was born, and with youth comes rebellious natures and an attitude to break the rules. Teenagers ran away from home as they may do to spite their parents, and laws were bent and broken. Gangs and packs of degenerates began to creep in the outskirts of Utopia, and these were inevitably either thrown into prison or forced out of Utopia, either by choice or by alienation. This generation became sharp in mind and clever with their hands, stealing technologies, hacking, scavenging, creating a no man's land which "perfect humans" were loath to dwell. This generation broke up into clans and spread out to claim their own stomping grounds. There would be territorial quarrels and one clan may steal from one another to gain that edge. It seemed that the worst in humans, what those in Utopia had tried to avoid, had inevitably risen once again. These rebels, these misfits, those even living as exiled mutations, which made up their own packs, these hackers and scavengers thrived outside the shining city.
Getting to know the wild, its horrors and its blessings, the strange plant life and animals that lived there, benefited these misfit humans in more ways than one. Poisons were concocted, new drugs, terrible and frightening breeds of beasts. And with new drugs come addicts, with poisons come new and mysterious ways of assassination between powers, and with the savage mutated beasts came dangerous and frightening power that was harnessed by the undesirables to bully their way into what they wanted of that more "perfect" society that were loathe to share what they had due to inherent prejudices.
A black market began to spring up around the confines of Utopia. Any trading between the two societies was kept under wraps, quietly carried out for fear of being found out. Not that the rebels cared either way, it was the citizens of Utopia that had something to fear. They did not want to be cast out as well, were unprepared for the wild, were too comfortable with their advantages to be alienated from society. But any dealings that crept into the city itself were quickly extinguished under the foot of the law, those terrible peacekeepers trained and maintained by Utopian society, those corrupt lawmakers who thought only of their own powers and agendas.
And here humanity stands, divided, flawed and imperfect. Societies were grouped in finite categories. The "perfect man" diluted with the ideals of what "For the Good of Mankind." Or they may be a society of the criminals, including the criminally insane, in eternal struggle to escape by means of the policed tunnels back into Utopia. Or the horrors of mutations, those unspeakable beings more beast than man, who band together out of the sheer instinct of survival. And lastly, those struggling to survive, those rebel youths, where the restless clans war among each other like tribes of lost children, caught up in their own pride and lawlessness, trapped within something like a ring, huddled close to the Utopia upon whose resources they ultimately depend, and confined by the threat of the mutations prowling on the outskirts.
They live in ramshackle houses, built from the scavenging of that discarded from utopia, or those won on the black market. The clans make use of weapons slapped together, technological enough to burn or blast its way through the wielder's enemies, or crude and blunt, for which those unfortunate who have no other choice. Hackers make use of technologies deemed too ancient or inferior for the attention of anyone other than themselves. Then there are the beastmasters who keep frothing, quite close to rabid creatures under their thumb to get what they want, just the same as nuclear weapons once were used on old Earth..
The rest begin to make pacts with criminals, who themselves are desperate to leave the prison, or those insane enough for revenge on a society that has treated them so cruelly, and come to agreements, arrangements, alliances. The peacekeepers begin to find themselves driven back, rebel allied with criminal, in a combined effort to take down Utopia for all the perversion it had become. And with that a hostile takeover of Utopia was unleashed, and quite literally, all hell broke loose. The shining city became pockmarked, marred, a scarred face of what it had once been. No man's land had taken over central Terra and Utopia as it was was no more. The city was unprepared for the horrors of reality and after the rebels took out the peacekeepers and deposed the rulers of the once "perfect society," lawlessness abound for a time. The population was under the thumb of one warmonger or another, one brilliant criminal mind for another devious, silver tongued politician.
This is reality, this is war, this is the present. Kill or be killed, be strong and stand or flee into the wilderness. Generation One has begun.
~
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Name: Carter - Callsign “Dagger”
Age: 29
Born in Utopia, grown along with a handful of others in a lab, Carter was created along with his fellow teammates to be an efficient and deadly combat team within the police force. Part of the Special Operations Group, team Rogue as they were called, handled special assignments from the administrators themselves. As with most of the police, they were brought up in specific conditions, brainwashed to accept what they were told, and medically enhanced to do more than any normal soldier. Team Rogue was an experiment, specialized training that made normal lawkeepers look like children. Bred only for combat, their only goal in life was to die on any number of suicidal missions. Carter’s comrades on the team had turned out just as the government had hoped, but they’d missed something with Carter. At some point his conditioning broke, and no one noticed. He realized what they were trying to do, and simply faked it. He still was a loyal soldier, it was the only thing he had ever known - but he was human, capable of reason, and he didn’t trust anything more than his instincts. A deadly assassin, he had killed dozens of rebel leaders and VIPs with his specialty - the sniper rifle. Together with his genetic siblings, Team Rogue is an unstoppable force with not a single failed mission and no casualties that will not stop until the insurgents give up their struggle, or death comes for them.
-
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Name: Autumn
Nickname:“Knives”
Autumn was born in a crucible of chaos . Her mother was only a young girl when she ran away from home at eighteen due to her rebellious nature and joined the budding cause of those arrogant enough, being in their youthful ways, to challenge any figure of authority. She was romanticized by what the rebels could provide for her, an absence of the more conservative laws of Utopia of which she did not understand . She had not been a personal witness to which her forebears had suffered, the reasoning behind the laws which they so loyally enforced. Autumn’s mother selfishly wanted to live her own life, not knowing the implications that her decisions might mean. Her parents stopped looking for her after a time after she had run away, and it was not long before she missed the comforts of home. But her youthful pride and shame kept her from going back to Utopia. Virtually unprotected by a guardian she fell into the wrong sort of crowd and when the convicts started to surface she was defenseless. The streets she walked down amongst the ramshackle structures that were little more than beaten trails than streets provided little safety. Then he came into her life. A silver-tongued convict, attractive in both body and mind, for he fed her honeyed words. It was a tenuous relationship, and a union between them and Autumn was conceived. But just as quickly as their relationship started, it ended, and Autumn's mother was left alone to suffer the realities of what it meant to be completely and utterly on one’s own.
Poverty and sickness plagued the young mother until there was barely anything left to care for young Autumn. When she died, Autumn buried her mother by herself with no one to mourn with her. But unlike her helpless mother, Autumn had become resourceful, being left to her own means as her mother started to fade away. A stronger breed than her gentle mother, Autumn thrived in her meager surroundings and snapped up whatever advantages came into being, learning how to fight to defend herself, learned what trades she could from those willing to teach her, but all at a price.
She had a sharp mind and did not rally to a cause unless she deemed it worthy. Once such cause was the discontent that the rebels were living in such conditions as they were. Those like minded as she began to join together in a patched rebellion that began to strike out at Utopia, already weakening from countless terrorist attacks and the seeping corruption that the dissents, convicts, and crooked politicians could provide.
The peacekeepers, the police force, came out in angry droves, those soldiers brainwashed to give no quarter when it came to Utopia’s best interests, those of the government which attained their footholds in this city of unrest. She began to hate them, and would strike out against them with a zealous ferocity along with her newfound sisters and brothers of the cause. They would come in and out of the shadows, striking at any opportunity against those that would oppose them. They were not foolish, those rebels to which she was aligned, and did much damage, even if it turned to terrorist attacks. Citizens were spared unless they took up arms against them. Their goal, to bring down, in their eyes, the corrupted government, usurping those seats of power so that their own interests could be realized
.…
Crossfire ricocheted against ruined buildings as the rebels came across a force of Special Ops, their target having been a government building to which to terrorize. The rebels carried crude but effective bombs and wielded weapons both put together by their own resources and those seized from the forces which they extinguished. Her brother-in-arms, a friend she called Ratchet, hefted a rocket launcher as he pressed against a structure for protection. Ratchet nodded to her and they silently counted to three. “Knives,” as she liked to be called, started in on support fire to draw the eyes of the Ops away as Ratchet aimed and fired the rocket launcher at a Special Ops group. The missile exploded and a spray of seared flesh and shattered bone rained down where half a dozen Ops agents had previously been positioned. WIth the momentary stall for the Ops to regroup, the rebels opened fire in a brief free for all, thinning the numbers in what time they had. But her own sisters and brothers fell prey to the crossfire, and some who were close to death darted in with bombs and ran as fast and far as they could before the bombs detonated where their lifeless bodies fell to the ground amidst shrapnel and empty bullet casings, rubble and broken glass.
…
Team Rogue sat in the hills overlooking the battle, laying prone underneath perfect camouflage. The team leader slowly scoped out the field through a pair of binoculars as Carter looked on through his scope. He slowly looked over each of the rebels, practicing positioning his crosshair over them for a perfect shot. “Possible ID,” His team leader’s voice came over the comm, “8 o’clock, ruined building, southwest corner.” Carter slowly moved his scope down and spotted the two individuals, one of them cradling a rocket launcher, the other spraying covering fire around the corner. A few moments passed as Carter placed his crosshair over the female. “Go on target?” Carter questioned through the comm.
A few moments passed with no answer and Carter wrapped his finger carefully around the trigger.
“Scratch it, that’s not her,” was the crackling reply.
Carter lowered his gun and flicked the safety back on. They were targeting rebel leaders, in this case a certain woman that had rallied this particular attack. It was the latest mission in an operation known only to them as Operation Guillotine. Carter’s team lead came back, “We’re moving into the valley, stay quiet, return fire only.” The ten of them slowly stood as Carter slung his rifle and pulled out his handgun. The team leader signaled and they all began slowly descending a narrow path into the valley below, behind the rebels, and into the battle proper.
As they approached the ruined town at the foot of the hills, Carter knew his role. He split from the group and chose the nearest tall building. Gunfire crackled through the air as Carter stepped foot into the ruined office building, making his way up the crumbling stairs to a good vantage point. He passed a few civilians, ignoring them as they cowered away from him. He reached the seventh floor and pressed against the wall next to the door of his chosen nest. With his pistol in one hand he slowly opened the door, clearing the room before making his way to the window. He kneeled down and carefully pulled out his rifle, setting it snugly on the window sill. Through the scope he saw the rebel mob moving forward, as the rest of his team crept up behind, moving cover to cover. He would provide overwatch, and he was in a perfect position to eliminate any target if it was called.
---
In their bravado and boldness, the rebel fighter squad hadn’t expected any attack from behind, especially from the infamous Team Rogue, so adept at stealth that not many of their kind were left to report the incidents to rebel leaders. After eliminating several choice targets of the ground Ops team, the rebel leader, Hazel, surrounded by bodyguards to help hide her position motioned combat signals to her troop and indicated that,as they split into predetermined teams, that they should separate into three and go ahead with the mission they had set out to do. The drone police force was an expected, albeit annoying wrench in the works. Hazel and her bodyguards moved as one, flanked by the three rebel teams, which each moved to their designated positions, namely, the available entrances into the government building that would gain them access, rather than surging as one body into the main entrance.
Knives and Ratchet were part of team three, which would take a much longer route towards their assigned point of entry. But Autumn hissed a warning to the others, a feeling prickling at the back of her neck, a paranoia that their movements were being watched. She put a finger to her lips and pointed behind her at the high building that overlooked the street on which they were maneuvering. She had a feeling that sent little shivers down her spine. The rest of the team made ready to defend themselves if a threat did indeed surface. Autumn pressed herself against concealment and scanned the buildings, squinting her eyes to try to catch some semblance of movement. Ratchet’s muscles flexed as he hefted the rocket launcher onto his shoulder, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Then, all around them, gunfire began to erupt as Team Rogue found their targets at last. Being distant enough from the rest of the rebel troop, and on their own, they had not yet been discovered. It was obvious that their mission was about to fail, much to the vexation of Hazel, as a month of planning had gone down the drain. Autumn was not sure to keep up the fight or not. Help her dying brothers and sisters, or return to the rendezvous point? But withdrawing was out of the question, for Ops had been looking for their nest for quite some time and she wasn’t about to lead them right to its front door. So team three scattered quietly and would wait until the chaos was over before returning to their base.
Autumn and Ratchet, both fuming with frustration, doubled back towards the tall building overlooking the street, that same building so suspicious that Autumn still prickled with instinctive signs of warning. But it was also a good cover. However if a member or two of Ops was found out, Autumn would be more than happy to get a taste of revenge for their failure. When they reached the building after a sprint, Autumn bristled and spat when they were out of sight, ducking into an abandoned apartment.
“Government pigs. I can’t believe we failed!” She threw up her hands. “All our planning, ruined by those... those dogs!”
“Watch it, Knives. Don’t let it get you down. This is just a minor setback. After all, we did take quite a few of those soldiers down. Less of them to worry about now.”
“But they can be replaced!” She plunked down on a dusty couch in the apartment they had taken cover in. “Ratchet, that’s the problem. We, on the other hand, can not. We’re a dying breed, you and I. We have to win this!”
Ratchet frowned. “We all knew this would not be easy, Knives. We’re trying to overthrow the government. What do you expect to happen?” Ratchet reached out with a heavily gloved hand and placed it on her shoulder “You’re young yet, Autumn,” he said her name softly. “We are making progress, even if it isn’t as quickly as you want it to.”
Autumn let out a sigh and silence settled between them. Her head jerked towards the door when she heard distant but audible shrieks above them.
“Get away, we don’t want you here! You peacekeepers are nothing but trouble, no matter what the governor says. You’re just as responsible for the destroyed city as they are, what with your fighting and bombing... get out of here!”
Ratchet and Autumn shot to their feet. So she had been right, there were Ops here. She looked at Ratchet who shot her a grin.
“Come on, let's roast us some pigs!” Ratchet raised a clenched fist, primed and ready to go, itching to take even more of them down.
…....
After picking off several stray rebels that wandered too close to Rogue’s approach, Carter saw the team reach their target destination. He pulled his rifle back from the window and folded it down, slinging it on his back once again. He heard the civvies yelling as well, and carefully crept over to the door, standing slightly behind it as he peered carefully down the hallway. Carter spotted Autumn and Ratchet as they slowly crept up the stairs, going room by room as they searched for something to kill. “This is Dagger, I’ve been compromised. Hostiles are in the building.”
His team leader came back, “Roger, we have to pull back, good luck Dagger.”
The response didn’t shock him, every one of them was expendable if it meant a mission success. As Autumn and Ratchet approached his room he was in, Carter quietly wrapped his hand around the doorknob and waited for them to enter.
He could hear the two whispering between themselves as they edged into the room, his helmet’s computer detailing their loadouts. The rocket launcher would be a problem. He saw Autumn turn left to check the corner, and it was the perfect time to strike. Throwing the door forward it slammed into Ratchet, shattering to splinters and throwing him to the ground. He raised his pistol and pointed it at Autumn’s back, but the round jammed. Carter wound up and threw his pistol at Ratchet as he started to stand up. The pistol ricocheted off his head, causing him to stumble forward and off balance.
Carter surged forward towards Autumn as she started to whip around, spraying bullets wildly from her SMG. A few lodged into his chest plate as the rest bounced off his armor. He struck his palm forward into Autumn’s chest, throwing her across the room. As he turned back to Ratchet, the rebel had his rocket launcher pointed right at him. “Take this, you bastard.” Carter could sense the trigger snapping as he hastily pulled his rifle around just as the rocket left the barrel. He blindly fired a shot towards Ratchet as the rocket sailed past him and hit the wall, throwing him forward and showering the room with debris. Carter’s body slid across the floor and landed against the wall, unconscious from the force of the blast.
---
Autumn grunted as she jerked to her feet, rubble sliding off her body that had dislodged as the rocket had blasted a crater into the apartment wall… well what was left of it in any case. The blast had blown out all of the windows. Some of the drapes had even caught fire. There were shrieks as the apartment's fire alarm resounded and automatic fire extinguishers in the ceiling came on, spraying everything with water so the entire complex wouldn’t burn down. She was dazed, the blast having set off a ringing in her ears and her eyes sparkled with stars as she was momentarily disoriented. Her SMG had slid down the hallway, having been knocked from her hands.Water would not ruin it, however, as the shell was waterproof. It was a fine peacekeepers prize weapon she had confiscated off one of her kills. She pulled out two cruel looking blades from the sheaths behind her back as she tried to regain her bearings. The ringing in her ears and the stars eventually faded and she realized her situation. Somewhere near her she could hear grunting and shuffling as Ratchet found his footing again, an ugly wound streaming blood from where he was shot in the chest. He ripped off his dirty tank top and balled it up, pressing it against the bullet wound to try and staunch the bleeding. The Rogue was unconscious, the threat temporarily averted though it may not be long before the soldier woke up. She ran her eyes over him a moment and looked at her friend.
“Ratchet, did it hit anything vital?”
Ratchet hawked up a mass of blood and spat it on the floor. He wavered on his feet, an alarming sign for one who was as big as he. His breathing was forced and ragged and he gave a nod of assent. Clearly, it had punctured a lung. And she had no med kit with her. Their mission had been victory or death. And it didn’t look good for him
“Lung,” he wheezed, pressing his hand against the wall for balance. “Better get him restrained,” he nodded towards the fallen soldier. “Not much time...”
He pulled off his belt and walked rather shakily towards the Rogue and kicked him so that he rolled onto his belly. He took quick work to bind his wrists, jerking the belt shut so that it held tightly. He lost his balance as he bent down and a knee hit the floor hard.
“Come on kid,” he said after spatting more blood. “I’ve still got some use in me.” He pulled the soldier up and threw him over his shoulder no easy feat, but as he said time was running out... for him.
Autumn lurched forward and scooped up the weapons, taking the enemy rifle and slinging it over her shoulder, looping the empty rocket launcher over the older shoulder so they criss crossed and put her gun back in its holster and knives sheathed.
“Ready,” she nodded to Ratchet who barreled forward as fast as his legs could take him, using the momentum of his body and brute strength to descend down into the street. How did he do it? Autumn wondered. She felt a jolt of despair as her best friend was practically bleeding to death and suffocating, especially as the weight he carried only added to injury as it pressed down on the collapsed lung.
Somehow he made it back to base. With the last bit of strength left he hauled the Rogue and unshouldered him so that the unconscious body hit the ground with a thud. He didn’t care if it hurt the Rogue. He hadn’t the strength to stand any longer and fell to a seated position.
“Someone... help!” Autumn screamed. “Ratchet, he’s dying!”
Rebel medics moved into swift action and did what they could for him. Autumn paced back and forth, shooting glares of hate towards the Rogue, who was now bound against a post so tightly he would only just be able to breathe.
…...
Carters eyes slowly opened as his helmet’s overlay rebooted. Gazing forward he saw the medics huddled over Ratchet. He craned his head back and forth, trying to identify his surroundings. He attempted to move his arms, finding them restrained. He laughed a little bit as he felt the ropes, if he tried he could easily break them, but doing that now would just get him killed. They were tied well though, he could feel them pressing his chest plate against him, straining his breathing. He just stayed silent, glancing over at Autumn as she paced back and forth. He looked at Ratchet as his computer marked his vitals, his signs were precarious. If he died it wouldn’t bring Carter joy or sorrow, he was simply following directives. Most U-SEC officers were given orders to self-terminate upon capture, but Rogue wasn’t given that order. Their training in resisting torture had been so extreme that the government wasn’t even concerned they could possibly reveal information. Carter’s mind drifted to the rest of his team, there was a small chance command would approve a rescue op, but Carter didn’t count on it. Dying right here, right now, wouldn’t bother him at all - he was detached.
---
It didn’t look good for Ratchet. He was too pale, a sheen of sweat beading on his brow. Autumn couldn’t do anything for him, and the last thing Ratchet wanted was to be mothered. His next of kin was already being summoned. Autumn was glad he had loved ones left to ease his passing. Autumn herself, had no one but herself. That is why she was so attached to Ratchet, he was like a brother or even somewhat of a father figure, ten years her senior. He was everything she wanted to be. Strong, brave, and sharp of mind. He had taught her everything he knew. Her own knives were a birthday present on her eighteenth birthday, knives that once belonged to Ratchet himself. “Keep them sharp, Autumn. They’ll serve you well just as they did for me...” She would lose a great part of herself if Ratchet did end up dying. The thought already carved a painful hole in her heart and tears came to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, turning her head so Ratchet could not see her distress.
Hazel made an appearance as well. As always, she was able to slip her way out of capture one way or another. Her bodyguards were zealous men and women who believed in the cause so much that they were willing to lay down their lives so that their leader may live.
Hazel had a natural gift for rallying rebels to the cause. She was enigmatic, skilled with words that would rouse any downtrodden heart. She was the daughter of one of Utopia’s most successful politicians, a bloodline to which she was loathe to share. She did not agree with Utopia’s ways, hated the government for its genocide and secret experiments, hated citizens all the more from allowing these monstrosities, these great sins against humanity, to continue.
All “For the Good of Mankind? “
No, it was a self-serving set of laws maintained by choice individuals diluted enough to think they were like gods. Secret government experiments, those involving genetic manipulation to create the perfect man to which they utilized, to keep themselves almost immortal in their lifespans, to create a viral weapon that was useless against their own bodies but deadly to mutations and to many of the rebels that were born naturally, as Autumn was, not born of prime genetic stock. None born inside Utopia were natural at all.
Autumn looked over at the soldier, and seeing him awake only agitated her all the more. Here he was alive and healthy and Ratchet was all but slipping away. She turned on her heel and stomped towards the bound soldier and stood before him, hands on her hips, her breathing quick, nostrils flaring in rage. “God damn pig, you probably don’t even have a soul. You don’t care about anyone’s lives, the struggle we go through every day here in hell, while you capitol dogs roll in champagne and caviar.” Well, not him, but he was a tool of the government. She didn’t know if he had been hurt by her bullets under that armor and it was likely than he had not.
“You’re probably some kind of freaky mutant. You're not human, not the way you Rogues are.” To tell the truth, she never looked at their faces after they had been killed. They would just move on to the next target. “You’re way too fast to be human.” She mumbled those last few words with slight mysticism. Suddenly she lunged forward, placed her hands on both sides of his helmet and jerked it off his head. She wanted to look into the eyes of Ratchet’s murderer. Because, it was likely, Ratchet wouldn’t live after losing that much blood, the blood he had spilt carrying the Rogue rather than killing him on the spot.
…
The helmet resisted, but then snapped loose, releasing a hiss. His hair was short, black, and buzz-cut. His eyes were dark blue and glowed with a soft light, some errant mutation caused by augmentation and radiation treatment. Small grooves were cut all along his face, down his forehead, across his cheeks. They extended all over his body, his body was cut to perfectly fit his armor and the grooves were part of a digital lining that allowed interface between his body and suit systems. A tiny red light began flashing on his armor’s neckline, the suit maintained an atmosphere of highly enriched oxygen that enhanced the soldiers’ abilities, and Autumn had broken the seal.
He just stared forward at Autumn, watching as she unleashed her emotions.
---
She narrowed her eyes a little as she watched the blinking light. She heard shifting behind her as Hazel approached and paused at her shoulder. Hazel crossed her arms. “Yeah, kinda creepy aren’t they?” Autumn looked at her. Her curiosity peeked, she looked back down at the Rogue. “Why are his eyes like that, and what’s with those wierd grooves?”
“His eyes glow because he’s a genetically altered human being. Something about the radiation the government uses on them makes them light up like Christmas Trees. Those grooves are the work of military scientists as his suit is made for only him and build around him like a shell. You see at the collar?” Autumn looked to where she indicated. “Those glowing lines are an interface that makes the suit a part of his body. We could pull it off him piece by piece but he’d still be what we call a super human. Most likely he could have given Ratchet a run for his money in a good wrestling match.” Hazel smirked.
Ratchet! Autumn’s head darted towards him but the medics had backed out of the circle previously made while they had tried to heal them and just stood around, putting away their equipment. Hazel lifted her hand and gripped Autumn’s shoulder. “He’s gone. I know how much he meant to you... his relatives are here to say goodbye. You can wait till they are gone, for privacy.”
“Thanks,” Autumn smiled weakly, blinking back fresh tears with a heaving sigh of sadness... she stood silent for a time, wiping her face. “What are we going to do to him?” Autumn jerked her chin downwards towards the Rogue.
Hazel smiled. The girl has said do to him instead with him. Clearly Autumn wanted some sort of revenge, which was natural. The smile faded from the leader’s face. “We can’t do anything to him, as he is now. They can resist torture like the best of them. They’ll die before they would reveal anything, and those are just the officers. No, who knows if he’s important enough to them to know anything. He may just be obeying orders. We won’t get anything from him. As for what we’re doing to do with him, there is no choice but to kill him.”
“Just like that?” Autumn bristled. “Ratchet died to get him all he way here all for nothing?!”
Hazel just shook her head. “Do whatever you want to him, it won’t make a difference. He can’t feel pain the same as you as me, rather numb to it actually. We could make use of his armor though, even if it isn’t suited to our bodies. It could be a covert tool.”
Hazel motioned for several rebels to approach. They unbound the Rogue just enough, held him securely with many more men that would normally be needed to restrain a regular man, and tore off his armor piece by piece, revealing thin undersuit over the soldier’s body which glowed bright blue in places that ran along his body, electrical stimuli to assist his body power his suit interface.
….
Carter watched the rebels remove his armor, an impatient look on his face. The armor’s tech would be useless to the rebels as it would only function with his bio-signature, but if they could find the right person it would at least offer protection. His gaze followed Hazel, so the team hadn’t gotten the mark after all. Technically it was still his mission to eliminate her. Carter’s mind began to race as he ran through a dozen tactical situations in his head, imagining how he could buy enough time to at least take her out. His body tensed up, ready to move if they opened a window. His eyes flicked to Autumn, she wanted his blood, and he wondered why she didn’t just take it.
---
Autumn was thinking along those lines. They rebound the Rogue tightly to the post again. A low guttural growl emitted as one of Hazels other protectors showed up, bristling with mutant rage, an intimidating mutt with hackles raised. It was devoted to the rebel leader as it was captured at birth from a training center where the government bred such beasts for their own use and grew up with a bond to Hazel as it saw her as its mother and gentle keeper. But woe those enemies that tried to hurt his master.
“Good boy,” Hazel reached out a hand and patted its head, but rather than wagging a tail as a normal dog would it simply perked up his ears and let out another growl at the Rogue. “Watch him.” She gave an order to the mutt. It walked forward a few paces to sit then rest it’s belly against the floor, its eyes never leaving the Rogue’s face, ready to punish hostile movements.
Hazel wanted the beast there not only to ensure the Rogue would not cause her any harm if he tried to escape from its bonds and try something along the lines of her assassination but also as protection for Autumn who she had become quite attached to. She felt something akin to motherhood as Autumn was an unfortunate orphan due to unfortunate circumstances. “Don’t have too much fun with him while I’m away.” Hazel let out a chuckle as she waved her hand and ducked out of the room, most likely to begin plans for another mission.
Hazel knew things that other rebels had not. She had lived in Utopia for a time with her father, had seen places only a daughter of a politician were privy to be. She knew key locations and knew how to get to them. She was a turncoat to everything her father had represented, and she liked it that way.
Autumn turned her eyes once again to the soldier, who looked a little more human now that the hulking protective armor had been removed. He was tall and sinuously built, but not without muscle that had been primed to be stronger than most humans. Everything about him was inhuman. Did he have human emotions, did his blood run red like hers or was it some sort of glowy blue like the tech on his bodysuit or his eyes?
She couldn’t gauge his mood, but his eyes would not leave her. He had been agitated with Hazel’s presence but to him Autumn was likely a low threat, of less importance, her only grace was the simple fact that she and everything she was, was his enemy. After a thought, she unsheathed one of her knives and quickly reached out and snatched his hand and before he could jerk his arm back she swiped her knife across his arm, delightfully deep.
…
Carter glanced down as she sliced his flesh, only feeling the dullest of aches in response. His blood was red, but much brighter than any normal human - enriched, like everything else. As soon as her knife left his skin it began healing, not sealing up, but the blood flow began to slow as it clotted at an increased rate. Carter looked back up, seeing the spite in her face as she desperately wanted him to feel pain. He thought he better start trying something, they would torture him to death eventually, and a Rogue could never submit to death - only find one strong enough to give it. “Your name.” He spoke plainly, expecting an answer.
---
“Wha... what?” She blinked at him. He hadn’t said anything before, made no indication that he could talk and the break in silence had unnerved her. But of course he could talk, he needed to communicate to his team somehow. So it was a very good thing that she had taken off his helmet after all, even if it had initially been due out of curiosity. She frowned deeply, not wanting to give her real name. It had been special, spoken only between her and Ratchet, and sometimes Hazel, but to everyone else she was Knives.
“Knives.” She made a sound of disgust. “What’s it to you anyway?”
…
Knives, what a coincidence, considering his own callsign. “You expect me to die without knowing my killer’s name?” His brow was low as he continued staring at her. Carter expected her to ask the same, considering he had killed her friend. The tent they rested in shook softly as a gust of wind passed by. Carter could hear commotion outside, and talking. He figured they had taken him to one of their bases, most likely an outpost. Breaking out would be no easy task, if he lived that long.
---
“Your killer?” She scoffed. “Perhaps. Though killing you quickly would be such a waste, not after what you and your kind did.” And to Ratchet. She swallowed hard, aching to feel his presence, but now he was only a shell. “I don’t know if I want to know your name, pig. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” She raised her knife, still coated with the bright blood. This was personal now. She tilted her blade this way and that as if trying to decide what to do to him first. “What is your name, then?”
…
“Dagger is my given name.” He noticed her guard slightly dropping. Carter’s eyes glanced to the floor where the dog watched him carefully. His face scrunched as spikes of pain went through his head, it was a test probe from command, spiking his neural augmentations to get a reading. They were seeing if he was still alive. It was possible the rest of Rogue team was still in the field, maybe coming to retrieve him. If they could ping his position, they’d even find a previously unknown rebel encampment. Carter shook his head as the pain subsided, returning his eyes to Knives.
---
Dagger. How amusing. Autumn frowned deeply at the sudden change in his face, as if something was giving him pain, but what the cause she didn’t know. Perhaps he had hit his head too hard when he flew back into the wall before. That must be it. The train of thought had given her pause. Ratchet...
She turned her eyes towards the door. She wondered if his kin had left. She really wanted to see him and the ache in her heart made her turn and take a few tentative steps towards the exit. She paused, looking from Dagger to the mutt and smiled a little. It’s not like he wasn’t going to be watched and she had plenty of time to get back to him. But now she just wanted to see Ratchet. Cutting the Rogue had brought her no satisfaction. Maybe if she saw Ratchet... yes.
She left him there and walked back out into the open. Hazel was standing beside Ratchet’s body and appeared to be waiting for Autumn. Hazel’s eyes moved towards the tent, obviously curious at the soldier’s state of health, but Autumn only looked dejected, the fight momentarily leaving her as she walked to squat beside her friend’s body.
She laid his hands against his chest and pressed her own upon them. Bandages hid the wound from view but the bandage was red with blood. “Goodbye my friend, she spoke softly. “You will be missed.”
Hazel turned her eyes away to give the girl privacy but still hung about. When Autumn stood back up, the girl’s eyes had done their crying and were steeled with resolve. She jerked her chin up to the rebel leader.
“I hope you have another plan, Hazel, and soon. We need to move, I can’t... I can’t just stand here. Not now. Not after this.”
Hazel smiled a little, appreciating Autumn’s zeal. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to be idle long. This little hitch up won’t change a thing, we just need to change our tactics. Look at it from a new perspective. I need you to step up and take Ratchet’s place. He taught you everything. I need you Autumn, and I need you level headed. So please keep your thoughts of revenge under control.”
…
With Knives out of the room, Carter began scanning for a window of opportunity. The dog still sat attentively watching, but an animal could only detect so much. With a jerk he pulled his hands apart, breaking the bonds holding them together. The dogs ears perked up, but Carter kept his hands where they were. He could break the rest, probably kill the dog too, but it wouldn’t be quiet and he wouldn’t get far. Carter was content to keep waiting, he wouldn’t act unless his life was directly threatened. The middle of a rebel camp was not the best place to attempt escape. Another shot of pain went through his head, what were they planning?
---
“Yeah,” Autumn sighed. Hazel was right. She could do what she wished with the prisoner, Dagger, but torturing him slow wouldn’t bring Ratchet back to life. It was best just to be over and done with it. She bent to get the rifle that she had placed beside Ratchet when he was laid down by the medics, turned and walked back to the Rogue. She stepped inside and raised the rifle and without any words aimed it at Dagger’s head. But she hesitated firing. She didn’t want to kill somebody tied up like that, she wanted a fight. But to let him loose was not a bright idea. She sighed and aimed again, her finger pressing lightly against the trigger. “Sorry, Dagger. This is for everyone’s good.”
…
As he stared down the barrel of the rifle her words resonated in his head, “... for everyone’s good.” Nearly the same words drilled into his head year after year. Just as she began to pull the trigger, sounds of gunfire erupted outside of the tent. As Autumn turned slightly to look towards the noise, Carter lifted his hands and grabbed the barrel of the rifle, pushing it aside and not letting go as he pushed forward tearing his restraints. The mutt immediately came forward, latching onto his leg and thrashing. His hands moved fast, releasing latches on the rifle causing it to fall apart in her hands. His hands preoccupied, he couldn’t stop her as she unsheathed one of her knives and drove it into his side. Grabbing his side with one hand, he picked Autumn up by the neck and threw her towards the corner of the room. With the hand at his side he ripped the knife from his flesh and thrust it into the dogs neck. Kicking it over as it recoiled from the strike. Carter ran for the back of the tent, pushing through it causing the whole thing to fall down. Outside the rebels seemed to be under attack, but he couldn’t see by whom. Most of them were rushing towards the fight. Hazel was still his target, but was now the best time? He quickly scanned and couldn’t see her, so he started running between the many tents - trying to keep low to avoid drawing too much attention. He glanced backwards, unsure if Autumn was still in pursuit.
---
What is that noise, gunfire? Alarm shot through her body. She was certain they hadn’t been followed, she and Ratchet had waited for enough time to pass, hadn’t they? She let out a startled noise as the soldier used the distraction to move the barrel away from him and, with one touch, Dagger triggered the weapon to disassemble. She vaguely heard Hazel’s mutt tear into the soldier’s flesh and she whipped out her dagger to thrust it into his side. Her momentary surge of satisfaction turned into surprise as Dagger seized her by the neck and flung her like some kind of ragdoll clear across to the other side of the room. She heard the pained yelp of the mutt as he let out a death throttle, something between a sigh and a growl and heard the thud as its body lay lifeless on the ground. Then as Autumn started to get onto her feet, she was pushed down as the heavy canvas billowed down over her, the supports giving way as Dagger had violently flung himself straight through. She bristled indignantly, trying to wrestle herself free, flinging the canvas this way and that until she was uncovered. In those moments of her struggle the soldier had run off.
Again, she was divided. Help her fellow rebel force with this new threat, or follow Dagger, who undoubtedly was trying to complete his own mission... likely to take Hazel out before she could make any more moves against the government. Flexing and unflexing her hands, she decided to track down Dagger and started an attempt to track his movements. She could hear scuffling here and there ahead of her and with no sound of gunfire, she was sure it was the Rogue. Everyone else was armed to the teeth, and the remnants of the rifle lay somewhere below the canvas. As far as she knew Dagger was unarmed. Moving not as covertly, she followed in pursuit. She had nothing to lose.
…
As Carter rounded a corner he ran right into a rebel fighter, colliding, it barely moved Carter but the fighter was thrown to the ground. “Hey asshole, watch where you’re-” A look of shock lit up his face for just a moment before Carter’s fist struck him unconscious. Carter reached into the rebel’s holster and withdrew his pistol, a shoddy little thing, nothing near government standard issue. He also retrieved the rebel’s crude communicator and took off again, taking turns as he headed for the edge of the camp.
Flicking on the communicator he dialed in the frequency for command, “This is Dagger, I am attempting escape from a rebel outpost, location unknown.” Static came back for a moment before the voice of the U-SEC AI addressed him. “We read you Operative Dagger, you have been issued a new prime directive.” Carter dove behind a small ammo cache and crouched down, listening intently as he scanned the area for Knives or any other attacker. “Go ahead command.” “The Administrator has directed you to join the insurgents - you will do whatever they ask - cease all communication with U-SEC operations until we determine the appropriate time for your reactivation. Confirm directive.” Carter nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was going to gain their trust at this point. “Acknowledged, ceasing contact.” He removed the communicator and threw it aside.
Peeking around the corner, he saw Knives as she came running down the path toward him. As she neared, he jumped up from behind the cache blocking her path. He pointed the pistol straight at her, waiting a moment as she ducked behind cover. When she peeked back around he raised his arms, throwing the magazine from the pistol away, and tossing the weapon to the side. “Hold your fire, Knives.”
---
She practically skidded to a halt, eying him warily as he threw the pistol side. What the hell? The rebel on the ground was unconscious, not dead. Dagger could have finished him off but he hadn’t... why? She glanced down at the discarded communicator and pressed her lips together. Nothing about this seemed right. “You contacted your squad... didn’t you? Are we to expect company then?” She narrowed her eyes, hissing fiercely. Why had he thrown the pistol aside? It was strange.
…
Carter was surprised she had noticed the comm-link. Suddenly the gunfire started to die down, the government forces were pulling back. “Yes, I told them to call off the attack.” He noticed her expression, “I.. I don’t know what happened, suddenly I realized what I was doing. I’m not even sure who I am.” He was faking of course, but he was good at it, he had done it his whole life. “I don’t mean you any harm, maybe I can help? It seems I know how to fight..” He looked down at the unconscious rebel trooper. “I think he would have killed me if I hadn’t stopped him.” He paused, waiting to gauge her reaction.
---
Suspicion was clear on her face. She narrowed her eyes to peer at his own as if that would give something away. This wasn’t right, none of it. Why would his squad listen to his command to pull back and cease fire. Either he was more important than Hazel had dismissed him to be, which may mean fruitful information for their cause if he were to deliver any, or it was some sort of government trick. She shook her head a little. The only one who would be able to make sense of this was Hazel. But the deadness that had been in his eyes when they first laid eyes upon each other after she pulled off his helmet was strangely absent. Perhaps there was something more to him than just a programmed tool of death. But why a sudden change of heart? “Why would you assist us? I don’t believe you one bit.” And she didn’t, not for a moment.
…
“I don’t know, it feels like I’ve just woken up.. and you’re the only person I can remember.” He started to lower his hands, but kept his palms where she could see them. “How can I prove it to you?” Given recent events, her trepidation was expected - but if Carter could talk around a Government Censor, he was confident he could convince a rebel hothead.
---
Her eyes narrowed even more and she shook her head a little. “Shooting yourself in the foot for starters.” She found it amusing, her mouth twisting into a wry smile. Whether she was serious or not was unclear. “You don’t need to prove it to me, I don’t care either way if you live or die, it’s up to Hazel now...”
She put two fingers together and let out a sharp whistle. Rebels, angry from the unexpected attack, came forward to apprehend him. His arms were wrenched behind his back and twisted a little much to one’s satisfaction.
“Now move,” Autumn pointed towards the command tent and to get him moving, the rebels twisted him around to get him moving. Once he did so , Autumn scooped up the pistol and clicked on the safety before tucking it into her belt. The unconscious rebel was scooped up as well and directed towards the medic tent. Autumn simply followed the group as they ushered Dagger to meet with Hazel
“So it’s you again, is it?” Hazel lifted up a cloth and scattered it over the table quickly to cover up any sensitive information and came from around it, crossing her arms and glancing at Autumn. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
“I was, but he’s had a sudden change of heart...” Autumn quickly related the incident and short conversation.
Hazel too narrowed her eyes. “No, I don’t believe you either. But I can’t let you go to waste either, as it is, now that you say you’re no more threat to us. However, you’re to be watched at all times.” She gave a firm nod to the others. “Change shifts, get some rest, it’s going to be a long night I think.”
Already, the medic tents were full of wounded and dying men, now their numbers had swelled because of the government troops had found them out somehow. “We’re going to have to relocate. This location is compromised. And who knows what this pig told his friends, even if he does say he’s on our side now.”
“So, what do you have to say for yourself, soldier?” Hazel jerked up her chin. “Just how are you going to help us. You must know something good if your squad were willing to obey your commands. So spill it.”
…
“I’m not sure what I can tell you, I can barely remember what happened an hour ago. I’m not sure why they listened to me.” Feigning amnesia would hopefully avoid having to reveal too much, command was probably already preparing to redeploy around what he might tell them. “But I remember my training, I can fight, I’m good with a rifle. Maybe.. I can take someone out for you.” He glanced towards Knives, “You all haven’t killed me yet so I think that deserves a little loyalty.” He looked back at Hazel, “I remember Utopia.. I think I know my way around.” Carter remembered his suit, “You all took my armor, it holds information in its datastores only I can access. Watch me, guard me, lock me up, I don’t care. Just give me a chance to prove myself.”
---
“We have enough fighters...” Hazel frowned at him. “As for knowing the city, most likely you don’t know all that much more than me. And giving you back your armor is out of the question. At least now you’re manageable. Give you back your suit and we’re no match. And there is no way in hell I’m going to give you the opportunity to give privileged infomation to your squad even though you say you’re on our side now. I don’t know what your game is but you’re not getting any quarter from me. So you have a bit of a memory problem, it seems... you’re a bomb waiting to happen that’s what you are.”
Hazel sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “I need to take some time to think about what you’ve said, and what exactly I am going to do for you. It’s late, we all need some shuteye.” She raised her fingers and made a motion that indicated that he be taken away. “Shut him up and tie him down until I come for him in the morning. There is more planning to do before I can get some rest.”
“You’d better do a good job of it, he busted through the old restraints like they were nothing,” Autumn warned her.
“Hmm, well, if he says he is here to stay, well, at least we have to give him that credit.” Hazel frowned at Dagger. “And don’t think of trying to go for your armor either, it is well hidden. There is a matter of trust you have to earn. Now, go.”
He was taken to a small shed and given manacles to bind his wrists and at the ankles, then the door was barred shut. It was dark inside the shed and only a thin amount of moonlight filtered in from thin cracks between the scraps of tin that made up the shed. Another example at the resources the rebels had to make use of. It wasn’t pretty but it did the job.
Autumn, for one, decided to get some sleep in the meager quarters she and Ratchet had shared. It was so quiet in there, the absence of life and laughter from her friend was extinguished forever. She shook her head and tried to shake the feelings out of herself so that she might get some rest. She lay down on the thin pallet that made her bed and pulled a worn but warm enough blanket over herself and settled down for the night.
The candlelight burned into the night in the command tent. Hazel sorted out the rest of the plans to relocate the very next day. They would be leaving much behind but there was always somewhere to go and there was a backup camp where they could make their home for now until the heat was off of this place.
…
Carter nodded at Hazel’s response, their apprehension was entirely expected. You don’t just go from killing rebels to being their friend in one day. There was more he could say, but it would betray his facade of amnesia. He allowed their guards to take him away, offering no resistance as they threw him into the shed. He tested the durability of his manacles, though he had no intention of breaking them. He walked somberly to the corner of the shed and sat down. Rogue was designed only to need 1-2 hours of sleep at most to be completely wired, so it would be a long night for him. Carter gazed up at the strings of moonlight as he heard the sound of distant explosions, the battle never ended in Utopia - but the sounds of it soothed Carter. As children they were conditioned to the sound of battle, they slept through it, they ate with it. It was as soothing a sound to him as a lullaby. Hour after hour passed before he finally succumbed to sleep.
---
An older gentlemen, near to celebrating his fifty-third year, stood in front of his expansive office window looking down at the city below him. He was some 50 stories above the street, his office situated within the sleek looking skyscraper that housed MediCorps, a huge conglomerate which was comprised of multiple pharmaceutical companies, medical research and development - which included a large share of Utopia’s genetic advancement facilities, and much interest in horticulture, both native and domestic.
In these ventures, Michael Cowell was successful. Very successful. His wealth allowed him a seat in politics as the funding for his campaigns were of a trivial matter. Many fellow politicians and government officials were “personal” friends and business partners. He was able to buy the loyalty of every one of them - personal feelings and ethics could be overlooked for the right price. But there was one flaw he could not completely buy his way out of - his affiliation to a family member. His daughter, a constant thorn in his side. She was everyone’s sweetheart as a young child with her curls and frilly dresses, but as soon as she hit puberty she turned into a total nightmare, an embarrassment, and had the audacity to run away from home, a scandal that followed him into his early political career. There was a cover up, of course, that his daughter had only moved away. But now she was back, making more trouble than ever, much to his eternal vexation. And now she was a rebel leader, the very same Hazel Cowell that led an attack that very day.
No one knew who she was, of course. He by no means volunteered the information and Hazel appeared to want nothing of him, just that everything he had worked for would be abolished, destroyed, obliterated, all for a rebellion led by a spoiled, misfit child. Research facilities that had wealths of information were destroyed because they were deemed “unethical” by these terrorists. The only unethical thing about it would be not to use the results of their experiments to make humans more perfect. Why should they allow imperfections to continue to plague the human race when advancements have made it possible to attain perfection? Yes, perhaps some people were made to be medical guinea pigs but it was for the greater good!
Michael Cowell breathed in and stood straighter. The banishment of imperfection was vital to humanity. Yes... mutations are abominations that should be purged, not suffered just because some think that all who live should be loved and cherished... pure rubbish. Look at our military, for example. Men in their prime with the strength of half a dozen men, perfect builds and bodies, and delightfully manipulative due to their conditioning, another aspect of MediCorps in cooperation with the heads of Utopia’s military interests.
He narrowed his eyes as he watched sporadic bombs igniting here and there in the city districts, easy to spot from his vantage point. How many of these insurgents were allied with his estranged daughter? Then the occasional flare of crossfire. Cowell sighed heavily. When are the citizens going to realize that these terrorists should be routed out, rounded up, and banished out of the city proper? They were no better than animals, their natural born children inferior in every way, and should be treated as such. He smiled after a thought came to him. Perhaps he could pull some strings and have a wall built around the city once and for all, to keep what and who should be out for good. Then they could move on and rebuilt the city, even better than before. It would be glorious.
There was a tap on his office door before his secretary peeked in. “
Mister Governor, sir. Will there be anything else? Everyone’s leaving for the day.” She bit her lower lip a little, clearly anxious not for him but for herself, because there was now an established curfew for Utopia’s citizens. It was made for their protection, because no one wanted to be out in the streets after dark. That was when they prowled. Mutant beasts that somehow wriggle their way into the city proper. Not even domestic beasts were safe. They were seen as a good meal to the terrors of the wild. Not to mention being unfortunate enough to step in the middle of a terrorist attack or a land mine and lose a limb.
“No, no. You may go Miss Johnson. I’ll be along shortly. Be sure to lock up without me, I have my key.”
“Yes sir.” She looked relieved and shut the door quietly behind her. The click clack of her heels faded as she walked to the elevator.
Governor Cowell found himself staying later and later at the office building these last few weeks. He was tiring of coming home to his wife. She had become weepy and needy of late and he didn’t enjoy her company. It was nerves, the doctors told him.They slept in separate bedrooms now. No matter, he could find company elsewhere...
...
As sunlight at last began to seep into the shed, and a misshapen rooster crowed its morning squawk, the door was unbolted and opened with a creak. Two men came forward and unlatched his restraints, one snapping them shut onto his belt.
“Hazel’s decided to trust you. We’re moving out, and quickly. You’re to help with the cargo, seeing as you’re strong enough.” He smirked and opened the door to the shed all the way, giving a motion of a sweep of his arm and bowing a little. “Your majesty...” T
he other man snickered. “You better watch out, bud. We’ve all got our eye on you.” They pointed the way towards the cargo tent and moved on to their own business.
Rebels were in a frenzy packing medical supplies in containers that could survive the apocalypse as well as basic supplies that were deemed important enough to take with them. Autumn looked up from packing when Dagger came in to help and made a sound of exasperation. She mumbled something derogatory under her breath as she went back to work. A man mopped his brow with a cloth. and pointed at Carter. “You, pick that one up and load it on the wagon outside. Then finish with the others. I’d give you a hand but I know you don’t need it. Not if what they say is true.”
…
Carter was already wide awake when the men arrived, leaning against the wall ready to move as they opened the door. He ignored their comments as he walked past them into the yard, nodding as he followed the man’s commands. Carter reached down and hoisted the container up to his shoulder with ease. Carrying it to the wagon and sliding it to the back with one push. He had been up the past few hours doing the rigorous exercise drills he had done every day of his life, each and every morning. Something had been bothering him though, something drilled into him from a young age. Bloodthirst, he hadn’t killed anything in some time - and his eyes darted around to every rebel, his trigger finger twitching instinctively as he imagined firing and pulling the bolt on his rifle over and over, watching the spray of red mist as they dropped to the ground. Carter shook his head and glanced back and forth, wondering if anyone had noticed his temporary zone-out. He walked back to the pile of containers and continued loading them, waiting for the foreman to direct him otherwise. The wounds Knives had struck him with were already almost completely gone, he glanced in her direction, wondering if her aggression was in check.
---
The foreman had to approve at his speed, they could barely keep up as he returned to the tent time after time to grab the other containers that had been sealed. Not wanting to be outdone Autumn, already in a terrible mood, increased her packing in a frenzy, and the foreman had to tell her to watch that she didn’t break anything precious. She sulked a little and threw a bundle of bandaging into the top of her container and shut the lid with an angry thud. It was a few minutes before the rest of the containers were snapped shut and ready to load, so efficient had Carter been. He would have noticed other wagons that had been loaded with other types of cargo, and the loads were each secured with canvas tarp and strapped down to keep the moisture off of those bins and crates that were not watertight as those he had carried had been.
Autumn by no means had forgiven him for the death of her friend, and she didn’t feel like the forgiving type. She rejected any idea that he was somehow the good guy now... the repentant man who had changed his ways. Why didn’t he decide that before he shot Ratchet? She made no attempt to contain the storm of anger inside her and had apparently refused to speak to him though she did cast him glances here and there, mostly an icy glare.
If those who worked beside the soldier knew what he was thinking they would have most likely shot him on sight. Hazel had spread word for every soul to be cautious of the Rogue and not get too comfortable or buddy-buddy with him. But only Autumn seemed to be watching him with undisguised mistrust. If her fellow rebels were suspicious of him they did not make it obvious, seeming to be wrapped up in their work. But if anything, their stock were not to be taken lightly. Born to be fighters from birth, they were not unlike Carter in that respect, though it was idealism that conditioned them, not brainwashing. As it was, some of the other rebel women gave Carter glances under their eyelashes, openly admiring his physique. They were not the shy type, not these who knew that their days may be numbered and life should be lived to the fullest. Whether or not they would act on their interests was only a matter of time. But at the present moment, priorities were clear and it was not romance on everyone’s minds.
Next on the agenda was to take down the tenting that had provided shelter. The sheds would be left behind because it would be a wasted effort to pull them down when they would only have to be rebuilt after the heat from their enemy died down. It was efficient work, and it was not long before their convoy was ready to move out. Rebels hopped onto the wagons or ancient motorbikes, or simply walked by the wagon train, pulled by a patched together vehicle or by the old stand by, mismatched teams of horses that had been jacked by the mounted police patrol.
The vehicles movements were unexpectedly quiet by anyone’s standards. Specialized mufflers built by clever rebel mechanics to keep the vehicles, old as they were, relatively rattle free. There weren’t many vehicles left in the city, mostly transport was by the sleek skyrail, and the rebels were all too willing to fix up the clunkers abandoned by those owners who thought they were nothing but worthless hunks of junk. There were even a few rusty old tractors abandoned for their inefficiency by MediCorps, once used to maintain the sprawling crops from which their pharmaceutical companies derived their products.
After a few miles, the paved roads became worn dirt trails just big enough for one way traffic, and vegetation began to press in on both sides. The more familiar growth became more and more foreboding as trees became more gnarled and unkempt, and once in the Wild, bastardizations as those flora and fauna that had been introduced by Earth’s seed reserves made way for the strange, and often dangerous, native plants that evolved naturally since the planet had been birthed, quite alien in its makeup. The Wild was something to fear and few ventured out this far, unless they were crackpot researchers... or the rebels that had no other options. Autumn hopped down from a truck, pulled on thick gloves and kept pace with the caravan as she threw a satchel over her shoulder and began to pick wicked looking plants, or herbs whose flowers looked a little on the toxic side. The gloves protected against the poisonous sap and thorns that accompanied some of her choices, and she stuck each deep into the bag.
A rebel who was seated near Carter, but not too close for discomfort, watched Autumn For some reason he thought he needed to explain some of his band’s habits, as if Carter was some foreigner... and in some sense he was, because after all, he didn’t grow up one of them.
“See what she’s doing there? Her mother was something of a herbalist and taught her some things before she died. She looked into the rest in books after she learned to read. It’s the poisons, she tips her daggers with them most times. It’s some of the same concoctions that MediCorps uses all hush-hush like.” The rebel thought this was funny and chuckled a little. “Can’t pull the wool over her eyes, that one.
When it grew dark, the mood quickly turned from relaxed to soberness, as it was the time that the mutations were likely to prowl. Lights hummed as they warmed up so they may see around them, and rifles were loaded with bullets and made ready to fire in an instant. There was a great danger now. Wild beasts were always savage, but mutations were a whole breed all their own. And not just beasts, but human genetic experiments gone wrong and abandoned to fend for themselves, both grotesque and eerily intelligent. Any mutations were dangerous. Imagine a beast with some kind of super-rabies, ten times bigger than it should be, completely running on instinct with a brain gone sour. Not a pretty picture. Autumn had abandoned her harvesting well before dark and now sat on a transport, a rifle in her own hand. Carter was not given weapons, he’d have to fend for himself in an attack, and frankly many of them would not grieve if he were to die.
Autumn found herself almost wishing for a mutation to attack and sink its dripping fangs deep into Carter’s neck and tear him into bloody ribbons. She smiled at that.
…
Carter didn’t seem to even notice the womens’ attentions, sex and attraction were almost foreign to him. They were distractions on the battlefield, and as such those feelings were completely driven from them from a young age. Like the rest of Rogue, he had been made infertile to prevent breeding. His perfect genes were too valuable to be given away at an individual’s whim.
Carter admired the craftsmanship of the rebels, though he couldn’t help drawing comparisons to government equipment. He was well used to most of their weapons from training and exercises, but they seemed to have even more now - make-shift and salvaged weapons of all types. He itched to hold a gun and eyed the guns of others jealousy, though he knew they didn’t trust him enough for that.
As they entered into the wilds, Carter seemed to become more guarded than usual - even for him. From his seat on the side of the train he watched diligently for an attack. During their teenage years every member of Rogue had been dumped, blindfolded and armed only with a machete, into the wilds and forced to find their way back. Every one of them did, much to the administrator’s surprise. It was the day Project Ajax was finally taken seriously, becoming more than a back-burner project. Carter knew the dangers of the outside world well, and pitied some of the rebels - knowing a number of them were not ready for the true horrors it contained.
---
Hazel’s bodyguards sat in a tight circle around her at her vantage point, bristling outward with effective weapons ready to fire at a moments notice. They maintained a sober attitude, not quick to panic, which is why the rebel leader had chosen them. Before long, the convoy detoured into a clearing, going off road, and maneuvered their vehicles into a tight circle about the clearing’s edge. The wagons would provide good cover if the rebels were attacked and a guard watch was posted at key points, the shifts would turn from person to person as the night progressed. The others settled down for the night but few would able to sleep. The tension among them all was palatable. The two teams of horses were brought into this protective circle, for their own safety.
Autumn sat alone, her back against one of the wagons, her weapon lay across her lap. She crossed her arms tightly about her as if cold, and her face looked despondent. She did not converse with anyone, but had talked to Hazel earlier in the day. She did not look up very often, except to cast glances at the edges of the clearing through the thin gaps spaced between the parked vehicles.
In the distance, but not as far away as they would like, there were strange noises. Not howling exactly but something similar, mixed in with garbled grunting and the sound of disjointed crashing through the green. Autumn shivered when she heard the terrified cry of a wild animal before its death throttle, then the crunching of bones. Something was out there, and she hoped that there wasn’t a pack of mutations. Of which could do serious danger to the rebels small population. Autumn got to her feet and moved closer inward into the circle, turning her body to face outside of it.
The horses were unsurprisingly spooked by the noises of the mutations, and after attempts to soothe and restrain them, they were moved and tied to the wagons so that they may not bolt entirely. This wasn’t a comforting idea but to lose these resources would slow them down as those wagons would need to be hitched behind another, which would put strain on even the heartiest of their vehicles.
This was a poor situation, since the animals could act as unintentional bait, drawing the mutation hunters inward and closer to the camp. And worse, the horses could be killed and a blood frenzy would ensue, the rebels inevitably being the next targets. They did not look forward to a waste of ammo and worse, of lives.
At first sign of the mutations presence Carter was thrown a rifle. After all, they needed as much help as they could get and the danger of attack was more pressing than one from him.
…
Carter snatched up the rifle eagerly, turning it over in his hands as he examined every part of it. He lifted it and tucked it snugly into his arm, holding it up to view the sights, removing the magazine and testing the trigger. It was a solid weapon, if a bit old. Carter punched the magazine back in and loaded it, peering out into the nearby jungle. He was ready for anything, his mind eager to see blood. He could hear the roars and thrashing off distant beasts, wondering if they would wander over the threshold. Carter glanced around at the other rebels, some of them focused and ready, others shaking and unsure.
----
Autumn was neither shaken nor unsure. She was more alert than ever, being an experienced fighter herself. The prospect of danger sent little shivers down her spine of warning and her adrenaline began to rise. She smiled a little, itching a bit for battle, especially as it may prove to be an outlet for her frustrations on losing her partner. So she found herself inching her way towards the vehicles, towards where most of the commotion was occurring. Others took her lead and joined her side. They did not want to cower and wait for something to come to them. On the contrary, to wipe out the threat firsthand before the mutations got too close wasn’t a bad idea.
…
A rumbling could be felt through the ground as the sound of rushing leaves and snapping tree branches grew ever nearer. A horrid beast came galloping from the overgrowth, its fur brown and mottled, patches of red skin glistening with blood beneath it. It mostly resembled an enormous dog, its head was a horrifying sight, looking as if it was in the process of becoming two. Its gross tongue flailed about as it set its sight on the nearest rebel fighter, intending to devour him. Its pack followed close behind it, bringing six more of the beasts to bear against the caravan. Carter raised his rifle and began firing immediately, he had seen something of their type before, and it wouldn’t be long before one of them had gone through five men. His first shot quickly dispatched one of the younger beasts in the back, but his next several shots seemed to only anger them. As he pulled the trigger once more, the gun clicked in response, his magazine was empty. Ducking down, he reached into a nearby crate and retrieved several more placing them neatly in a row. Carter’s gunplay was a discipline, and that wasn’t always a good thing.
---
Autumn made no pause at the sight of them and jumped up onto on of the backs of the wagons and onto a crate, planting her feet. She opened fire, trying to hit what she thought to be critical shots, most often to maim and cripple to slow them down rather than to kill them outright. She aimed straight for the mutations’ eyes because they were closest to their brains when she tried to kill, knowing their hides were probably tough and thick. When she ran out of ammo, she kicked open an ammunition crate, of which there were many, and slammed a new magazine into her rifle and was back up and shooting in no time. At this moment, more of the rebels took up arms and hopped up on the trucks as well, or dove for places with more cover. When one of the beasts got too close, Autumn flipped her rifle around in a deft move and smashed the butt of her rifle into the mutation’s skull then spun it around again, pressed the barrel against the dazed creature’s skull and planted a slug in its brain. With the combined efforts of Autumn, Carter, and the more experienced fighters, the enemy was quickly laid to waste.
But by no means was every soul alive and well. Many were wounded and some were killed. The bites would have to be seen to immediately and administered an antidote so their own cells would not mutate. A few even had lost a limb and their arm or leg was bound with a makeshift tourniquet to slow them from bleeding out, but it was unlikely they would survive such a wound without professional medical help. And those type of facilities were far behind them, not that they would be welcome, being who they were.
Autumn found great satisfaction in the mutations’ demise, the act of destroying them was mildly therapeutic, as the pent up frustration and grief had been running through her tense body was almost to a boiling point. She hopped off the wagon and turned her eyes on Carter, frowning at the fact he had so many weapons piled around him, instantly turning suspicious that he may turn one onto herself or one of her allies. After all there had been bloodshed, and he may be keyed up enough by his conditioning that he was a live wire. She set her rifle down carefully and approached him carefully, her eyes moving down to the rifle he still held in his hand.
“I suppose I have to thank you for doing what you did.” She frowned deeply, hating to admit aloud that he may not be all bad. “But I suggest you drop that rifle, now.”
And there were eyes on him, gauging his motions. The camp had become quiet. Now that the attack was over they expected him to relinquish his rifle because he was still under suspicion. Many rebels were still armed, and barrels were slowly inching their way towards his location.
Hazel came forward. “Put your weapons down, he’s not going to make any trouble.” She fixed her eyes on Carter. “Are you?”
…
Carter lowered his rifle as the fighting ceased, but slightly raised it as he noticed the others closing in. He was ready if they tried anything, but he set it down once more as Hazel approached. “Only if you want me to.” He pulled the magazine, ejected the chambered round and raised his hands very visibly in front of everyone almost mockingly, turning back and forth. His eyes turned to Autumn and he stared at her for a long moment, his expression blank, before looking back to Hazel. “Can I have my skin back now?” It was his first battle in a long time without his armor and he could feel its absence. He expected her refusal, but their holding of it frustrated him.
---
Hazel took a long look at him, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. She contemplated the pros and cons and eventually she nodded a little and gave one of her bodyguards a signal. “Give him what he wants. He’ll need it in the wild. “
One of her bodyguards walked over to Hazel’s truck, unlocked a special compartment within its cargo and pulled out the suit piece by piece, handing it off to others so that it may be placed by Carter’s feet. Everyone else stepped back a moment and then at a dismissive wave by Hazel they all returned to their previous responsibilities.
“There you have it. Don’t give me a reason not to trust you and I will. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you have that rifle Autumn confiscated, but only if you prove yourself to me. Now get some shuteye, we’re moving out again at daybreak.
…
Carter simply nodded to Hazel and hastily set about putting himself back in his armor. It was something of a meticulous process. After he finally slipped his helmet back over his head and the tiny atmosphere processors within the suit churned the enriched air back into his lungs, he took a deep breath and sighed. He glanced down at his chestplate, examining the small blemishes where Autumn’s haze of gunfire had dented it, running his hands over to make sure it was still intact. His eyes returned to her a moment as she walked back to her duties.
Carter slung his rifle and ignored her suggestion of sleep, he could push through the night with none easily. Instead he hopped off the wagons and walked the perimeter of the convoy, keeping his eyes on the wilderness as well as the rebels.
---
The rest of the night was rather uneventful, as they had survived any mutation attack. In the morning the horses were hitched to their respective places, the engines topped off with fuel, and after everything was lashed down they turned back on the dirt road, which thinned as new vegetation had grown along it, which slowed their progress as rebels armed with machetes cut down branches that were in the way or moved fallen trees that would block their way. Eventually, the road widened again as they entered civilization, a base of sorts that was larger than their previous occupancy, which was already populated by another troop willing to allow them to merge with their activities for a time. After all, power grew in numbers. In retrospect, Utopia wasn’t too far away. The journey had only been slow because of their cargo. The motorbikes sped off to stress this fact and the men were able to take up a faster pace ahead as the vehicles were driven alongside the sprawling encampment.
Hazel hopped off her vehicle and walked to meet with the rebel leader. They had been previously introduced and an alliance between them had been struck. After some conversation between them, the pair returned to meet up with the convoy and instructions were given where they might unload their cargo and pitch their tents.
“Take as much time as you need, Hazel. Utopia isn’t going anywhere.” Her companion smiled, a spread of warmth that made his old eyes crinkle.
“Thanks, William. If you need any fresh supplies here, let me know. We have plenty to go around.” Hazel grinned back.
William’s band of rebels had their own agendas, and Hazel did not intend to get in the way of that. But she did offer her own men in assistance, because any maneuver against the government was good in her book.
Hazel brought with her news, and the pair moved off into the established encampment to swap stories and swap stratagem. The rebels didn’t appear to need any further instructions in her absence. Their habits were so in sync with one another the new camp rose above them just as quickly as it had been disassembled before. Their work done, they made for the encampment mess hall, and brought along with them food so that it may be divided and shared. The meat they served was gamey, as it was from the Wild. No mutants, of course, provided this, but instead other creatures that made the WIld their home. Something akin to deer provided plenty to kill, as well as other strange mammals. Grain was made into gruels and coarse bread, the seed for the harvest stolen from the crops funded by MediCorps themselves to feed Utopia’s citizens. Most of what they had had been pilfered in one way or another, they had no shame.
Autumn sat by herself, as usual, not alienating herself per se but it had been a habit for Ratchet and herself to converse together, amicable in their bond. She had been rather distant as it was, but nothing unexpected in her case. She munched on bread and dipped it into her stew’s gravy, containing wild game and some weird looking root vegetables of which she was knowledgeable of.
…
Carter made his way to the mess hall as well, passing by stunned onlookers as well as older rebels that knew exactly what he was, glaring at him as he walked by. He took his meal and ate it quickly, its crudeness was right at home for him - having had to eat similar meals in training and in the field. Carter exited the mess hall immediately, preferring to stay away from a crowd due to years operating as a lone wolf. He explored the camp, trying to find Hazel. It didn’t take long, barging into her private meeting with the fellow rebel commander he brandished a salute. “What are your orders, ma’am?” To Carter there was no such concept as free time, never an objective to be not completed.
---
Autumn noticed Carter’s entrance, and every eye followed him as he took a seat. Those not aquainted with him muttered uneasily, suspiously, to one another in hushed voices. One man stood up quickly, lifted up his half empty mess tray and walked past Carter, giving him a look of unmasked spite, and threw the rest of his food in the trash and handed off the dirty tray to those on kitchen duty that day. “I ain’t eating near that filth. Makes a man loose his appetite,” he said a little too loudly and stalked off. Others shrugged and went on with their meal as it the occurance hadn’t taken place.
How he bolted down his food wasn’t healthy, she thought to herself, giving him a strange look like he was out of his mind. He ate as if he wasn’t grateful to have food, as if it wasn’t dsanything but something to keep his body going. She went back to her food, eating at a proper pace, until her mess tray was almost glistening. Oh what she wouldn’t do for a good dessert every once in a while. She had an ice cream sundae once as a little girl and she hadn’t had one since. But she remembered how gloriously decadent it had been. Had he ever had one? Most likely not.
Hazel only blinked at Carter for a moment. William stiffened and looked a bit hostile. It may be the fact that he had barged into the meeting or the fact that he was a Rogue soldier, or both. William looked at Hazel, expecting an explanation and quickly before the clenching of his fists became a swinging punch.
“This is... well, I don’t know his name, he never volunteered it and I never bothered to ask. He’s a Rogue. Well, he was until he decided to offer his services to me. Somehow he defected an attack on our base and ordered his team to ceasefire and withdraw, then allied with us. He may have privileged information to tell us, but he says he can’t remember anything so I tolerate him. I wouldn’t say I am going to far as to trust him completely, but he could still be useful to the cause.”
William crossed his hands behind his back, the stance of an old soldier. He looked Carter up and down, assessing him. “Well young man, is this true?”
…
“Yes, sir.” He turned to Hazel, “As I said before, I have information here that can aid you.” He tapped the back of his helmet, where the system’s AI was located. He stepped forward to the table and held up his palm, tiny lights flared, projecting a tiny hologram of a map. “Locations of critical government assets, take your pick.” The locations were mostly remote factories and supply facilities, but still very useful to the rebel war effort, if U-SEC hadn’t already stripped them due to his knowledge.
---
“Can you expand the image?” Willam bent a little closer towards Carter’s open palm. When he did, both Hazel and Willam examined the map. William rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked over the key points.
“I have to hand it to you, Rogue. You were right, you do know a little more than I thought. See here, William?” She pointed to one of the locations. “We’ve been trying to get into this facility for weeks and we’ve been going about it the wrong way. See these points here and here?” She motioned towards them. “Those would be the best mode of entry, then we can take what we need from their stores, right under her noses. We hadn’t thought of going below Utopia’s streets, I was only familiar with ground routes. But this changes things.”
William scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, this could have saved some time. Looks like we’re after some of the same targets, we could join forces on this. Twice the manpower would get the job done more quickly, that’s for sure. “ He looked up at Carter and gave him another look over. “Maybe I was wrong about you soldier. We’ll need to sketch out a few maps using these specs. If you have the patience, perhaps you can assist by indicating on our maps the best means of entry into the zones.”
Hazel pursed her lips a moment, considering. “We’re after MediCorps, soldier.” She had dropped the sarcasm in her voice when she addressed Carter. “I don’t know if you know what’s going on in there, maybe you don’t need to know, but we need to put a stop to some of their projects. They think they know what’s best for Utopia, for us all, but that’s where they get it all wrong. They lost sight of what it means to be human long ago. We couldn’t change their minds with protests, it wasn’t enough, so we’re taking more direct action. There are more than enough of those responsible to detain, some must be silenced. That’s where our plans come in. Autumn is now one of the key points in that instrument, I’ve promoted her, since one of my best agents is now dead and gone.”
By the sound of her voice, she must mean Ratchet. “She’s been primed for covert operations and she’s the lynchpin that needs to gain access. You’re going to help make sure that she succeeds.”
…
Carter nodded to William, “I’ll help anyway I can.” Turning back to Hazel, “What’s your plan? Full assault or infiltration? Is Autumn one of your special operatives?” The name Autumn was foreign to him, not knowing it belonged to Knives. His eyes occasionally drifted to William, it was a rebel leader he had not been briefed on. He wasn’t sure U-SEC even knew about him, it would be an interesting tidbit for command.
---
“It is clear that our assaults were all but fruitless, the way we were working things, because ground routes were all we had to go on. There will still be assaults, we need to keep up pretenses, and it will be a good distraction. Now we will mainly focus on infiltration.” Then she realized she called Autumn by her familiar name and cursed herself for letting it slip. Autumn would not approve. “The woman you know as Knives is Autumn but never say that name. You’ll piss her off. Yes, she is part of what we’ve built up as our own ops team. She is quite good at what she does, I am sure she didn’t think you were worth the effort, but don’t underestimate her just because she’s young. She’s lived and breathed combat since she was old enough to wield a weapon, Ratchet was her mentor. But you never got to know him.”
William hadn’t moved his eyes from Carter ever since Hazel had begun to reply. The Rogue’s eyes bore no hint of recognition and in that he was relieved. His rebel force wasn’t as aggressive as Hazel in their all out assaults, rather they worked in internal affairs, planting moles to gain information. That was part of the reason that their location was so out of the way, in order to maintain a cloak so that the moles wouldn’t be found out, there instead were cautious communiques between them, mostly remote but occasionally there was face to face contact with agents that ran the gauntlet in between.
…
Carter nodded to Hazel, but he didn’t look forward to working closely with Autumn. She was skilled, but brash, and would no doubt let her anger towards him get in the way of the mission. Carter raised his other hand, pointing to the hologram, his voice crackling through his helmet’s comm, “Here, this area on grid G-8 is actually a trash disposal causeway. It’s not shown on any map, but I know it’s there. It will be lightly guarded and lead directly inside. As long as your agent is willing to get a little dirty.”
---
A smile curved on Hazel’s lips. “She’ll be fine. Knives isn’t the squeamish kind. She follows through on orders and never disappoints. It is refreshing to see so much zeal in one so young, and she is quite the atypical teenager.” She chuckled then sobered again. “She will have no hesitations when it comes to a mission, she hates being idle too long. A trait which with she undoubtedly shares with you. She has no qualms on killing those who are in her way, whether it be a soldier or a government agent. But you, however, will be killing your own kind. I hope you will not hesitate when the time comes.” She frowned lightly.
William cleared his throat a little. “I’ll give word ahead for my people to clear out so they aren’t in the crossfire. I will, of course, not reveal their identity...” He gave Carter a guarded look. He could only trust him to a point. “Not even Knives knows who works for us and who works for them. I don’t want casualties.”
Hazel nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll give it another day for the agents to send word ahead of time. I’ll seek out Knives right away for a debriefing.” She looked at Carter. “Stay here and don’t make any trouble.” She ducked out of the tent and left them alone.
William made no attempt on becoming personally acquainted with Carter, he would not willingly volunteer sensitive information. But he did want to clear up a few things.
“Soldier, I hope for your sake you’re not leading us into a trap. I don’t have much reason to trust you, but I won’t let my preconceptions about what you were get into the way of what use you could be to us. Hazel is a dear friend of mine and if you do anything to hurt her, and I am sure you once intended to kill her on sight, I will personally cut off your balls and shove them down your throat before I cut you apart piece by piece and feed you to the wolves. I hope we have an understanding.”
…
Carter shook his head to Hazel, “I never hesitate.” Turning to William he waved a hand dismissively as the leader defended his actions, “I’ve no need for you to reveal anything to me.” As Hazel left he took a position next to the door, awaiting her return, turning his head as William suddenly spoke. “If I intended to harm you or anyone else, it would’ve been done.” Carter had trouble understanding the motivations of the rebels, the emotions behind it all. “But we should be prepared for resistance. They know I have knowledge of these places. However, I should be able to handle anything they throw at us.”
---
William nodded with a sober expression on his face. “Very well. You watch out for Knives, she has a bit of a hair trigger. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped her notice. It wasn’t wise to get on her bad side but I guess it couldn’t be helped. It’s too bad about losing Ratchet, he was a good man. She blames you for his death. It doesn’t matter if it was a part of your mission, she’s going to hold that grudge for the rest of her life. Prove me wrong, soldier.”
Presently, Hazel returned with Knives behind her. Hazel moved aside for Carter but Autumn did not, deliberately knocking into Carter’s shoulder as she moved past. She didn’t say anything, just glared at him.
Hazel nodded to William. “She’s not happy with our choice of partner, but she’ll do it.”
“Show me the map,” she nodded to Carter, at last addressing him with some effort on her part, as if she wanted to ignore his presence all together. She watched as Carter recalled the map, showing the layout of the grid. “You say it isn’t heavily guarded, but do you have an idea of the shift schedule of the causeway? “
“Don’t worry, Knives.” William spoke up. “We’ve worked that out. My people will be cleared out before you move down there, so you don’t have to worry about the targets. It’s not a very large space, the tunnel, but the objective is to get in by any means necessary.”
“Of course,” Autumn nodded, her eyes shifted to Hazel.
“And what is our objective?”
“Once you’re inside, you’re to move through the MediCorps facility through the routes we have chosen for you, with Carter’s assistance, where you’re not likely to meet much resistance. Do not deviate unless absolutely necessary, you’re to follow Carter’s direction since he is more familiar with the patrols.”
Hazel took out blueprints of the MediCorps facility and spread them out on the table. She quickly drew the route lines over the blueprints and circled the target area. “This is where you need to get to. This control room needs to be disabled. It routes many of the functions within the building. A team will be waiting outside here, and once the alarm systems are disabled they’re going to move in. Once you’ve finished, don’t wait to meet up with the team, go directly to the top floor as the assault team distracts their defense squad. You’ll take the service elevator upstairs. This is where the mission really becomes crucial. Your ultimate target is a man named Michael Cowell, but take out as many of his associates as you can. We need to begin to thin out key personnel.”
…
Carter seemingly had no reaction to William’s words on Autumn, it was irrelevant to him if Autumn hated him as long as she could function as a soldier. Watching Autumn carefully as she shoved him, he turned back to Hazel, listening to her instructions. “Understood, ma’am.” He knew the name of Michael Cowell well, but held no personal allegiance. “When do we begin?” Carter looked at Hazel expectantly, looking as if he was ready to go immediately.
---
Hazel looked at William, who addressed Carter. “Give it just a bit of time. I’ll go send the runners now. Hazel and I will fit you with the necessary weapons for the mission. I think you’re going to like what we’ve cooked up.” He grinned and Hazel chuckled.
“William enjoys his toys, he’s brilliant when it comes to modified weaponry.” Hazel gave William a fond look. She did not reveal that he was once one of Utopia’s top engineers, who had abandoned his job when he saw just what his inventions were being used for.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Hazel. You know where I keep my babies.” He chuckled before leaving to give instructions for the runners to give a heads up to his moles.
“I think you’ll appreciate what we have for you, soldier.”
Hazel beckoned for the two of them to follow as she diverted to the armory, which was being guarded. They stood aside as Hazel approached and was given access. Inside, the walls positively bristled with weapons, every inch of the wall weapons were mounted, there were baskets of grenades, crates of ammunition of every type. It may put the government stores to shame. Likely much of it came from there, confiscated during missions and during raids for supplies of every kind.
Hazel took a rifle off of the wall, and it hummed to life in her hands. “I won’t shoot this in here, it’ll destroy the building. We’re to have some target practice, that should take care of your restlessness, Carter.” She handed the rifle to him after powering it down. She pulled down some modified handguns, a sampling of grenades, and a couple more rifles, handing off a few as she loaded them up so that the three of them could carry a good amount of weight. She bent to load an ammunition box with the required ammunition so they could put on quite the show.
She indicated that they should follow and wove her way through the camp towards the outskirts, where a gun range was set up. There were targets of several types, each designed for a specific weapon. Some of the dummies had been patched back together, riddled with bullet holes, chunks missing here and there, and singe marks. Others had miscellaneous coats of armor tugged over the dummies, many of which Carter may recognize. Some were out of date, but they would get the job done. The nearby grenade field had thick walls of cement blocks for protection, and goggles and ear guards were hung on hooks to prevent deafness.
She told them to set everything down and pointed to the first weapon that she had handed Carter. “Try that baby out. I think you’ll like what she does.” Hazel held out an array of grenades to Autumn and walked with her to test out some of the more experimental prototypes. They put on the safety equipment before making ready to deploy them. “I think you’ll like this one knives. Just be sure not to be in the same room when it goes off. You’ll see why.” Hazel turned and flipped up a switch and various electronic devices hummed to life, weapons dismantled down to the bare bones for which they were made to function, and a suit of armor that powered up its regular functions.
Autumn nodded and after audibly giving the warning signal, she detached the pin from the grenade, reared back her arm, and flung it a good distance away before she and Hazel ducked to take cover, dropping into a protective position with their heads tucked into their knees and their hands covering exposed necks.
There wasn’t a loud explosion but instead a crackling of energy. There was a visible pulsation of blue energy in the air as it radiated out into a contained circle. When they stood up again, despite the fact that the power switch was still on, every weapon and the suit of armor had been disabled, their functions rendered neutralized. With that grenade, every enemy would be disarmed and helpless to attack as their own protective suits and weapons would be rendered useless by the pulse.
“Nice,” Autumn grinned, and nodded approvingly. It was clearly one of William’s inventions, because he knew most weapons inside and out, because he was the one that designed them. He also knew most of the prototypes as well that he had created because the suits in use by the government wouldn’t have deviated much at all from his original design. There weren’t many that could have made improvements on his brainchild.
The two of them took off the protective gear and turned their heads to the gun range as they heard rifle fire. “That’s the rifle you handed to Carter...” Autumn said with some awe as she watched it in action, which thrived in Carter’s capable hands.
…
Carter nodded in approval at the rifle he was handed. It was more advanced than the rest of the rebel gear he had seen but it was still made of composite parts - though its configuration was a work of art. He immediately recognized the technology, but he had never tried it before. It was a Nanite-Rifle, the gun fired cartridges filled with tiny nano machines that could eat through almost anything - including flesh. Carter went prone, opening the rifle’s bipod and pulling the gun into position against his shoulder. He reached forward and pulled the bolt, making the rifle light up with a soft whirr. He looked to the side a moment as he heard the EMP grenade go off and his suit’s systems flickered. His armor used bio-electric energy for most of its systems, but a direct EMP blast would still throw him for a loop. Looking back to his rifle, he peered down the scope, placing the reticule over the head of a dummy far down range. Steadying his breathing, he pulled the trigger, the cartridge almost immediately slamming into the dummy. Bright orange bits melted away with a sizzling sound as the dummy’s head and shoulders seemingly burned apart.
Carter sat up and rested the rifle in his lap a moment, patting it approvingly. It was certainly an upgrade from his current rifle, but its ammunition was a little too special to be using for every target. Carter slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked to Hazel, “This gun is impressive, but I need a sidearm. What do you have?”
---
“We have standard issues of everything, of course. If you want something more practical I still have a few for you to try out. As for a handgun, well, you’ll be needing this more than me.” She drew out a weapon out of its holster at her side and flipped it, holding the barrel so that he may grip the butt of it.
“This isn’t so impressive as that rifle, a little over the top I admit, but it does have its uses when the enemy has you on all sides. Those nanos spread out in waves from the target, hitting the next two or three hostiles and do the same to them. This handgun uses bullets that have biologic tips. Take out the magazine and have a look.”
He would see capsules containing a neon green liquid at the tips. “Those eat away at the target from the inside at impact. So it’s not just a bullet wound, it is corrosive. They can’t staunch this kind of flow. It eats away at the point of impact. Bone or flesh, and will also melt away armor, so at the same time they’ll be less protection covering them in a matter y moments.”
…
Carter picked up the pistol, turning it over a few times before dropping the magazine. Their weapons seemed to try to deal as much damage in as few shots as possible, an understandable design point given their situation. He nodded and pulled back the slide, examining the barrell. “Looks like it takes conventional rounds as well, this will work perfectly.” He held the pistol down to his side and it was forced against his leg with a thunk, magnetically securing it.
Carter turned from Hazel and perused the armory more, examining every weapon for defects and applications.
---
“Of course, it is adaptable to most types of ammunition designed for that model, which is why it is so useful. You take what you can get when you’re scavengers like us.”
Hazel folded her arms as Carter perused. “You are welcome to anything, or course. “
Autumn had returned to the weapons shed as well, her hands going over the weapons. She chose two types of handguns and belted a dual sleeve holster to hold them in place. She took down a rifle of her own choosing and slung it over her shoulder with its matching holster, the straps going crosswise over her torso and one around the middle so the rifle would fit snugly against her back with plenty of maneuvering still possible.
…
After having a good look around, Carter made his way back to the entrance - eyeing Autumn as she suited up. “What’s your experience with an infiltration op?”
---
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I go where I’m told to. Most of our maneuvers are assaults, terrorism, raiding to survive. But I have been sent on solitary missions from time to time. When key targets are exposed due to rallies or political meetings, they can’t be on guard all the time. When they’re exposed, I’ve already come and gone before anyone can bat an eye and my target is dead. Quick, quiet, and it really pisses them off.”
…
Carter nodded to her, seemingly satisfied with that explanation enough to not ask her more. He sat down on a nearby bench and took out his weapons, taking them apart and cleaning them carefully, removing every imperfection. Enraptured in his maintenance he seemingly ignored Autumn’s presence, waiting until the time when he would be called for the mission.
---
Autumn bit her tongue, wanting to say more. She suddenly had the urge the scream at him. The only reason she was teaming up with Carter was because they needed him for information. She didn’t want to team up with anyone... not since...
Not since Ratchet. The memories came flooding back in and she lowered her gaze, grief icing her heart. She looked up at Carter briefly. It was perfectly fine with her that he was otherwise occupied, that his eyes were not witnessing this weakness. She turned on her heel and left the armory.
She stalked about, fighting the well of tears that clung to her eyes, wiping them away as soon as they surfaced, ducking her head away from the eyes of others. There was only one person she could talk to, and she all but bolted for what sanctuary might be provided for her. Hazel would have returned to the command tent so that is where she went.
Hazel’s head snapped up when someone came inside. She was about to tell whoever it was to turn around because no one was allowed in here, then she relaxed momentarily when she saw who it was. But when she saw the state Autumn was in, with tears now streaming down her face, she set down what she was doing immediately, closed the tent entrance so that they would not be disturbed and offered open arms.
Autumn felt foolish, but she ran and flung her arms around Hazel so suddenly that Hazel had to plant her feet in order to stand her ground and not lose her balance. She raised a hand and ran it down Autumn’s hair in a soothing gesture. She knew this was coming, Autumn had repressed all feelings for some time thinking she was stronger for it, save anger which usually served her well enough, and with Ratchet dying, well, it proved to be too much for the young woman to handle.
“Shhh...” Hazel talked in a soothing voice. She was pleased that Autumn would come to her for comfort, and it touched her deeply. “It’s alright to cry, Autumn. You can’t hold all this grief inside you, it isn’t healthy. You need your head in the game.”
Autumn nodded a little, burying her head in Hazel’s shoulder so that her face may be hidden for just awhile longer. She needed this moment of weakness, just this one moment.
“I miss him too,” Hazel said sadly. “You two were a good team, helplessly inseparable. You’re not used to being alone. I know you want to be strong, to do everything yourself, but that isn’t always the way to go.”
Hazel took in a breath, not wishing to broach the subject, but she wanted to speak quickly before Autumn pulled away. “I know how you feel about the Rogue, Autumn. But you can’t let that get in the way, not while you’re a team. You need to learn how to let go.”
Autumn started to pull away, her body instantly tensing, and Hazel let her do so. The mother daughter aspect had lasted long enough. Teenage angst had returned. Autumn stumbled back a bit, a feeling of betrayal clear on her face.
“How can you say that?” Autumn sputtered. “How can I let go as if it never happened?”
Hazel shook her head. “No, it did happen. I will not stand here and say otherwise. But nothing can change the fact that he is gone. You’re hurting inside, I know that, but you have to let this go. What do you think Ratchet would have done? He’sdsuck it up and drive on, do the jobs that needed doing. And that’s what you’re going to do. And with a clear head.”
Autumn turned her head away, her cheeks blazing red. But she was considering everything Hazel had said. She gave a final swipe of her nose with the back of her hand. “Ok. I’ll focus on the mission and nothing else. I guess I owe that much to Ratchet.”
“Yes, remember the good things.” Hazel smiled and nodded, raising a hand and squeezing her shoulder. “He loved you like he was your little sister, stubborn and reckless though you may be.”
Autumn laughed a little. “Ok, maybe just a little stubborn.”
“Good girl,” Hazel smiled brilliantly. “Now go on, there is planning to be done.”
“Right,” Autumn made way for the door and paused. “Thanks, Hazel.”
…
When Carter had finally reassembled his weapons, he walked out of the armory and gazed skyward. The sun was beginning to fall and the sky dimmed orange. He made his way to the command tent, pushing through the flap - seeing Hazel alone once more. “If we’re going to do this, I suggest we move out now. There will be a shift change soon.” He craned his head around a moment, “Have you seen Knives?”
---
“She was just here a moment ago, she couldn’t have gone far. She’ll be hanging about for the go ahead.” Hazel looked towards the door just as Knives returned.
Her face was still rather flushed and she had opened her mouth to say something to Hazel before she spotted Carter.
“Oh, it’s you.” She said in an uncharastically calm voice. Her behavior was like night and day. “Can we get a move on?”
Hazel chuckled, how like minded they were in some ways. “Just waiting on William, the runners should be back by now. You say there is a shift change?” Hazel looked at Carter. It had been on of the things on her mind when the four of them had met during the day to make note of the times. “That’s the window we need.”
William returned presently, looking Carter and Autumn over and grinning widely. “All set to go you two?” It was blatantly obvious they were. “There are motorcycles round front. They’ll get you there in a blink.”
…
Carter nodded to William, then to Autumn, heading outside to examine the motorcycles. Making his way to the front of the camp he spotted them, they were old but sturdy enough to hold him. He was a little over five-hundred pounds in his armor. He sat down on one of the cycles, starting the engine and testing it a bit to make sure it would hold him. Looking to Autumn as she situated herself on her own cycle, he looked to Hazel who gave him the okay. Twisting the throttle he sped off into the surrounding forest, making sure Autumn stayed close in tow.
After a little under an hour of travel, Carter stopped and dismounted. They’d have to go part of the way on foot to avoid the noise of the motorcycles. Seeing Autumn stop he signalled her to follow him. The forest surrounding the causeway had been grown intentionally thick to ward away anyone that got curious what was through it. Cutting through it was also out of the question as it would produce too much noise. They were forced to crawl slowly through the underbrush, moving at a snails pace. There wouldn’t be many guards at this hour, but there were perimeter sensors in place to detect intruders. Once they were inside that perimeter, thing would be easier. Crawling through the rough foliage was no issue for Carter in his armor, but he stopped a moment to turn and check on Autumn as they neared the end of the creep.
---
Autumn grinned as she revved up her own motorcycle and sped off after him. She felt like doing a few motorcycle tricks she had picked up but now wasn’t the time. She pulled up fast, turning her bike to skid to a stop and kicked the footrest and followed without a word. She dove into the underbrush after him but being of a considerable smaller size than him, without bulky armor, she was deft and nimble. She froze when he indicated to stop going and resumed quietly. She kept up pace with him well enough, her eyes roaming about here or there, squeezing her smalll body through tight spaces and slowed as he did when they came to the end of the creep.
…
Carter pulled himself up to his knees, gazing through the branches into the clearing where the causeway emptied. One lone guard walked along the edge of the outlet, looking down at the passing sewage, occasionally looking about. Carter turned to Autumn and motioned for her to go in for the kill.
As she moved forward he positioned himself to assist her, either with force or distraction.
---
Autumn nodded and crept forward like a lion stalking its prey. She moved as if one with the shadow, lithe in her movements, drawing out one of her knife slowly as she moved. When she was within striking distance while his back was turned, looking distastefully at the sewage and wrinkling his nose at some thought, she darted forward, put a hand against his mouth to keep him from uttering a noise, and raked her poisoned dagger hard against his neck at the juggler. He moaned out a muffle noise of surprise as he sunk to his knees before she put his hands against his neck and broke it in a deft move to be sure that the job was done.
…
Carter drew his pistol, snapping on a suppressor and moving to join Autumn. Two large oval openings were set within the hillside, pouring out sewage into a drainage canal. Up the openings was a long tunnel leading up to the facility. A small door lead to a catwalk that snaked along with the rushing water. Carter headed to the door and tried the handle, expectedly locked. He motioned for Autumn to search the body, turning up a keycard. Accepting it through a short toss, he swiped it over the door and headed inside with no other contacts in sight. The interior smelled terrible, muck was built up all over the catwalk, and strange moss dangled from parts of the tunnel’s ceiling.
As they neared the top of the ascent Carter spotted another guard, quickly stepping behind a wall. He held his arm out, signaling Autumn to stay put. He raised his pistol to head level and waited as the guard came closer. The guard slowly patrolled around the corner, lining up perfectly with Carter’s shot. With nothing but the sound of a click, the guard slumped down. Carter stepped forward and with one hand threw the body into the rushing water before motioning with his head for them to keep moving.
They finally reached the top, the tunnel emptying out into a warehouse attached to the facility. It was strangely empty, Carter pointed for Autumn to take up a covering position as he made his way slowly around the edge of the room, clearing each corner.
---
She appreciated his skill, and moved in sync with him as if they had been a team for much longer than they had. She had observed military movements before but his experience was a cut above. It wasn’t surprising though, since he had been a Rogue. When he made ready to fire his weapon she studied him with her eyes. She looked away at last when he told her to take position to cover him and was perplexed that the warehouse was empty, something she had not expected. She became guarded and wary. She began to carefully make her way closer to his position, so that she may stay just close enough to give supporting fire if need be, but not so close as to give them away.
…
Suddenly a stream of bullets swept near Carter, a few bouncing off his leg armor. Carter quickly side-stepped behind one of the containers in the room, looking around for the attacker. Then he spotted her; Wolf, another member of Rogue team - he knew her as Liliane. She was an assault specialist, a surgeon with a shotgun. She leapt down from a walkway above, firing a few more shots to keep Carter in cover. “I’ve been sent to kill you.” Her voice came over his comm, sounding very serene. Carter wasn’t sure what command was planning, but he had his orders. Moving quietly to the other side of the crate he readied his pistol, “I understand.” From his hiding place he could see Autumn, and he motioned for her not to help. The closest he had come to expressing anything like a sentiment. His entire life had been spent with his team, they were all genetic siblings, and though there wasn’t anything like a friendship between them he felt it was his responsibility alone to eliminate her. She sported the same armor as him, though slightly more of a feminine shape. The rifle Carter had been given would be his trump card, but he’d have to find the opportunity.
Carter knelt down and picked up a loose piece of pipe, hurling it the way he came. It hit the wall with a loud clang, and Wolf turned slightly toward it. He turned quickly around his cover and started firing rapidly with his pistol, the first few rounds striking against her shoulderplates just missing the mark. Carter kept up the fire, forcing her behind a container while he quickly dropped and loaded another magazine. He heard the sound of movement, looking around quickly before he saw a grenade roll out towards him. She had cooked it, and he was only able to take a few steps back before it detonated, throwing him backwards. He landed on his back roughly, his HUD flickering from the force. Carter then saw her flying through the air towards him, her shotgun pointed straight at his head. He quickly rolled to one side, the blast narrowly missing him, leaving a scorch mark across his helmet. She landed next to him, cracking the floor beneath him. Still prone, Carter kicked his foot forward, knocking her shotgun loose. As he tried to regain his footing she turned and grabbed him under his arms, lifting him off the ground as she prepared to throw him. He drove a knee forward, denting her breastplate and causing her to drop him suddenly. Landing on his feet he reached to his side and brandished a combat knife, swinging it overarm and jamming it into the lining of her neck armor. Wolf audibly grunted as the knife pierced the armor, she didn’t flinch for a moment though. They continued in melee for several minutes, neither one gaining much ground as they traded blow for blow. As they separated for just a moment, Wolf reached up to pull the knife free. Carter dove forward, grabbing the knife with both hands and forcing her to the ground, straddling her chest. He pulled the knife free and held it over his head, preparing to drive it through her visor. Her voice came softly through the comm again, “I’m sorry, Carter.” The unexpected words gave him pause and he froze mid-swing, before he heard a soft beeping. He looked down to see her clutching another grenade. This time there was no time to react, and the blast went off just beneath him. He flew backwards, sliding on his face until he crashed into another container, leaving a large dent, the front of his armor completely blackened and his visor cracked along one side. Not moving for a few moments he groaned and struggled to his feet, stumbling over to Wolf’s body. A crater was blown into her chestplate, a large chunk of her visor missing. He could see the soft glow from her eyes pass away, and he sighed, looking to see if Autumn was still intact.
---
She had done what he told her, bunkered down so that he may have it his way. In the few moments she had seen the female soldier, she knew instantly that she was one of Dagger’s kind and not one of the regulars she was used to fighting. She may very well be out of her league on this one. She peeked over the crate she had paused behind and saw that the battle was not going well for him, but he knew what he was doing, she was sure. But it killed her not to do anything, but providing a distraction would alert the woman to her presence, unless the soldier knew she had been there the whole time. If Dagger failed, she would be next. She gripped the handgun tightly and clenched her teeth, telling herself not to do anything stupid.
Then something occurred to her. That very morning she had hated Dagger for everything that he was, but now... she was actually concerned about him? She blinked then smiled a little. She guessed Hazel had something to do with that. She stiffened at the sound of the second grenade and arched her neck to see if she was dead, or perhaps the both of them. But no, Dagger was still fighting.
In moments, it was all over. He had killed the Rogue. She stood up from her position and walked over to Dagger. He was in a bad state. She frowned lightly, trying to assess the damage. Something of concern crossed her face.
…
Seeing Autumn he looked back down at the corpse of Wolf. He didn’t understand why she said what she did. He looked down at his weapons, and luckily they had not been destroyed by the blast. His HUD lit up with warnings about his medical condition, there were minor fractures and internal bleeding, but it wasn’t enough to kill him - and they would be non-threatening in a few minutes. Gripping his pistol tighter, he roughly motioned to a door leading into the facility proper. With a slight limp he made his way toward it.
---
She almost asked if he was ok to go on, but as he limped on, she knew it was a useless gesture. People like him and her don’t let things like wounds slow them down unless they simply couldn’t get up. And based on their life choices, you were as good as dead if that were to happen. You were then a liability to the team.
But she still worried for him, but as a few minutes passed it didn’t seem so bad, he walked straighter and straighter. So he did heal fast. It was... unnatural. Why should people like her face mortality so easily when these soldiers... these super humans... did not. It was against the natural order of things. She guessed it was simply a matter of point of view, what was wrong and what was right. The symbolism of his very existence was a matter of philosophy. But the people behind his creation, they were to the very core, corrupted and evil. She had been taught this from a very early age. She knew the horror stories, she could not dismiss that point of reality. Dagger had been manufactured to enact their laws and take out the resistance, but did that make him a monster?
Autumn shook her head. This wasn’t the time for this kind of thinking. She nodded to him and walked to the door into the facility, clearing her head of all thought. She pressed her body against the door jam, waiting for him to open it, her pistol ready in her hand to take down the enemy. Enemies like him. She narrowed her eyes and shook herself again. Stop it Autumn, don’t start freaking out. Not here, not now.
…
Carter followed with Autumn, clearing room by room. Predictably, because of the shift change, most of the labs were empty and at this time of the night most of the staff was retired to the barracks. They made their way to the front office, Carter hopped over the counter and checked the directory looking for the office of Michael Cowell. It was the penthouse office of course. Carter signalled to Autumn that he knew the way and they headed for the stairs. As they passed the doors on their way up the stairs they could see multiple labs, most of them outfitted for advanced genetics research and development. Some held tubes containing bodies floating in a blue liquid, no doubt breeding the next generation of the police force.
They reached the top of the stairs, but it stopped before they reached the top floor. Carter turned to Autumn, “He’s in the office on top of the building, there must be a special elevator or access pass.” Carter tried the door but it was locked, it would take ages to find the appropriate key card. Carter’s suit contained high-level access keys for most facilities, but he wasn’t sure if they were still active. If command had revoked them, it would cause an alarm. Carter thought for a moment but decided they were running out of time. He held his hand up to the key card slot and the tiny lights on his glove flashed. The red light on the door blinked a few times then turned green. Carter nodded to Autumn and slowly opened the door.
Inside was another large genetics lab but it seemed to be decommissioned. All the computers and equipment were powered down, the tubes lay empty, documents scattered across desks. Carter took extra caution, slowly walking through the room, making sure there was no ambush in store. As he watched Autumn slowly search the rest of the room, Carter stopped and attempted to access one of the consoles. Sweeping away the dust across the screen he powered it up, the screen buzzed and static flashed on the screen before suddenly a video began playing.
Green letters titled the video in the top left, “Project Ajax Preliminary - Genome Seed” It looked like security camera footage, looking down on a room with a desk, two men seated at it across from each other. One of the men was dressed in a lab coat, writing things down on a clipboard. Across from him was a man dressed in citizen’s clothes, he was handsome, and spoke slyly to the other as they bantered back and forth.
“Congratulations Mr. Durrah, you’ve been selected to provide us with a genetic sample. If you could just sign he-”
“What exactly do you need me to do?” The subject spoke back, the scientist seemed taken aback at being interrupted,
“Well we’ll just take blood and semen samples and you can be on your way. You’ll be compensated of course.”
“Uh-huh, what kind of compensation?” The video then went on for a few more minutes as the subject started haggling with the scientist, attempting to get more money for his time, eventually getting a substantial increase.
Carter crossed his arms, seeing the title in the top left and wondering at its implications. He knew he was created, but he wasn’t sure how - this must have been the man whose DNA was used to seed the creation of the Rogue genome. It wasn’t all that interesting to him though, and he turned from the screen to examine the rest of the room, glancing at Autumn as she passed to look at the video.
---
As Carter walked, Autumn followed, moving at a cautious pace as they moved down the hallway. She paused to look into a few of the doors, even pushing one open when through the window she saw the floating bodies in blue liquid. She gave Carter a motion to hold up and slipped inside to take a closer look. What she witnessed here could provide valuable information.
The room was cold, and her breath came out in puffs. She walked right up to one of the tubes and looked up at one of the bodies, this one a young male. He was breathing through some mechanism, which upon exhaling a string of bubbles rose and broke to the surface at the top of the tube. There was an array of tubing connected to sensors on the body and an intravenous drip connected to the hand. She tilted her head as she leaned a hand against the thick walled glass to try to get a closer look. This particular specimen was perfect in body, as perfect as one could get. His eyes were closed as if sleeping but she swore she could see a bluish glow about them.
Autumn turned her head to look at Carter. Was this man being created as he had been created? She looked around at the others. They looked similar but they were not the same body, features here and there were different. There was one woman too, and she thought of the Rogue that had attacked Dagger not too long ago.
But there wasn’t much time left. She backed away and left the room, nodding to her partner that they may resume. She said nothing of what she had seen because there was nothing to say. The both of them knew exactly what was going on.
Autumn frowned at the key card access panel and checked her pockets for the key card they had before, but she remembered she wasn’t the one carrying it. She watched her partner find the solution and blinked a bit when access was accepted. So he still had access codes. She didn’t know whether the convenience was a good sign or not. Why would this ability go overlooked when he was clearly a security risk?
Autumn chose not to speak on her thoughts on the matter. She silently followed Carter into the genetics lab and was startled to see it abandoned. She moved her eyes over all the equipment and computer panels. None of them were powered on, and there was a thin layer of dust over everything, a few of the larger screens had dust cloths draped over them. She reached out and pulled one of the cloths and let it fall to the floor. Underneath was sophisticated looking equipment. But this lab had clearly not been used for some time. Why had they abandoned it?
She heard the whirring sound as the access panel came to life at Carter’s touch, and looked towards the viewing screen. She slowly came to stand near him as she watched the footage. She did not know either men but whatever was going on seemed a very important matter. Here may be the beginning of Utopia’s genetic research. It had to start somewhere after all. Was this man who agreed to be experimented on the patron of many genetically altered individuals on the planet? Was he even, perhaps, a bloodline relation of Dagger? Her brow knit thoughtfully. She didn’t know if this information would help her at all, though it did provoke questions that she wasn’t able to answer. She was not, after all, a scientist.
…
Carter turned and tossed a messenger bag to Autumn, “Gather up some of the materials here, we’ll put it together back at base.” He opened up his own bag and shoved documents and disks inside then slung it over his neck. A door in the back showed a path to a main hallway. Outside the door, lights were on, this floor was occupied. Carter pressed himself against the wall next to the door, peeking out to examine the hallway. At the end he could see a private elevator behind a security checkpoint. Several guards patrolled the halls and more sat behind the checkpoint. Carter figured it was the access point to Cowell’s office.
Carter motioned for Autumn to take a look before flipping his helmet’s visor to motion tracking. Placing his hand against the wall, he started walking down the length of the lab, waiting until he was parallel with the checkpoint’s location on the other side. Signaling for Autumn to come close, he spoke, “At least 5 guards outside, I’m going to break through the wall here and take out the men at the checkpoint before they can lock the elevator down. Then I’ll stay here and hold the point while you head up and take care of Cowell.” It sounded like a command, but he was clearly waiting for her okay. He took a few steps back, ready to get a running start at the wall.
---
She grabbed the messenger bag thrown to her in midair, opened it and started to shove anything that looked important, as well as an extra bit of tech here and there that wouldn’t be heavy to lift that William would love to get his hands onto. Even if the equipment in the lab wasn’t up to date, he was resourceful, and this would add to the more ancient stock held by rebel hands. She didn’t dally and as soon as he made ready, she slung the bag over her shoulder and followed.
It was blatantly clear that from this point forward, the atmosphere would change dramatically from what they had gotten used to. They were coming closer to the hive and there would be drones about. She paused near the doorway, coming up to only a point, as Carter checked the hallway for enemies. Autumn came closer when indicated and listened to his instructions.
“Right,” she whispered, nodding curtly. She stepped a good distance away and stood ready. An amused smile had crossed her face at what Carter was about to do. This was something she’d like to see him try.
…
Carter took a few more steps back, holstering his weapon. Breaking into a sprint, he charged toward the wall his footfalls thundering loudly and shaking the ground. Bracing his arm, he threw his shoulder forward and crashed into the wall, breaking through a few layers of the metal plating and plaster but not quite breaking through. A few surprised voices could be heard as Carter quietly cursed to himself. With a yell he charged forward again smashing through the wall into the checkpoint and showing the area with bits of metal and plastic. A large metal beam fell across the first guard as Carter tackled the second, quickly shooting him several times in the gut before finishing off the first. Immediately the guards down the hall took cover and began firing.
Carter mashed the button on the elevator before diving behind the checkpoint counter, returning fire with his pistol. It would only be a few minutes before the guards could trigger an alarm. “Knives, now!” The elevator arrived and the doors opened, bullets whizzing past and peppering the wall and interior.
---
The fact that Carter did not break through the wall at the first time was in no way amusing, she was impressed that he had made such a deep indentation initially, a feat that would have broken the bones of any other man. At the second run, Autumn tensed, ready for the signal as she watched through the wall that two guards were already down and the rest were now in crossfire with Carter.
She let in a deep breath and darted as fast as she could, dropping down and rolling on her shoulder to move under the crossfire, and in a moment she was up and running again and dove for the elevator before it closed.
She punched an elevator key for the penthouse floor, where Michael Cowell housed himself. Autumn backed up into the near corner of the elevator, removed one of her grenades, and prepared for the elevator to open again.
A ping announced its arrival shortly before the door opened. But the elevator looked unoccupied. One of Cowell’s personnel went to investigate just as a grenade without its pin started to bounce its way down the hallway. It moments it exploded.
As expected, it took out the power within a certain radius, disabling important systems. Surveillance cameras shut down, electronic locks released, and the weapons and armor that Cowell’s guards were rendered useless. That was when Autumn striked.
She bolted out of the elevator before the smoke began to clear and took out surprised guards before they could blink. Those who had time to react were taken down in that instance of hesitation. There hadn’t been many in her way, Cowell didn’t expect anyone to get this far. Or at least that is how it seemed to her at the time.
The elevator doors closed and the elevator resumed its normal function. Autumn knew that the Rogue would be up presently after he had killed the remaining opposition.
There was no more need for a keycard, not while the systems were down, even as engineers quickly rerouted systems to try to get around the damage that Autumn’s grenade had caused.
She slapped a fresh magazine into her handgun and held it with her right hand while her other removed the second pistol from its holster. She raised her boot and kicked open the most impressive looking door she could find. Cowell was sure to be in there.
She frowned as she saw Cowell himself standing in front of his desk, looking entirely nonchalant as the power came back on around him in small amounts. She ran her eyes over him and side to side, seeing that he must be alone. But believing it was that easy was her downfall.
Autumn later told herself that she should have shot Michael Cowell on sight, right there, from where she was standing. But instead she stepped into the room. That was a grave mistake.
She heard the clicking before she saw the movement as Cowell’s bodyguards stepped out from their hidden positions, and she was met with a small arsenal of weaponry. Instantly she raised her hands after dropping her handguns as one of the barrels pressed against her head, right at the temple. Another was at her back. She had no maneuvering space, everywhere was danger.
Cowell cleared his throat. “Oh, so I was misinformed. You aren’t who I expected at all young lady.” Cowell sounded amused.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Autumn said with a wry smile.
“Oh, I’m not entirely disappointed.” Cowell pushed himself upwards from where he had his hands against the desk edge to lean on. “After all, you’re one of hers I suspect. A rebel, from the look of you.” He shook his head with undisguised disgust. “Not an altered gene in you, what a shame.”
Autumn was not going to ask who he meant. He knew of Hazel, but just how intimately she had no idea. Cowell sighed and motioned to his bodyguards.
“Take her to the interrogation room.” He said, sighing resolutely, or was it with boredom?
Her hands were twisted behind her back in a painful handhold and she gave little resistance, because she knew she had no way of getting out of this, not until her partner got here anyway. She did not volunteer this fact, though Cowell had a smug look on his face. “I’ll be along. Go through the usual process.”
She was unprepared for just how events were going to be played out.
...
The alarm was triggered and a klaxon call reverberated around the hallway in which Carter was taking cover. It was only a matter of moments when backup would arrive. The last guard was praying that they would arrive before he too was dead. He didn’t want to die but he was pinned without much choice in the matter. If he moved, he would be shot. He could only hope but remain a distraction until backup arrived. He maintained enough fire to keep Carter at bay.
“So it seems she wasn’t working alone.” Michael Cowell muttered to himself. “No matter. He pulled up a security screen on his panel to have a look to what they might be dealing with. He was surprised with what he saw. “A Rogue. How amusing.”
He reached over his desk to punch down a button on his intercom to alert security of this new situation. “Send in an Ops team immediately to detain the intruder. Use whatever means necessary, but do try and keep him alive if possible. There are questions that need answering.”
Michael Cowell had no authorization when it came to matters of Rogue Special Ops and he would be required to report the incident, as the intruder was one of their own. But he would still have some time to act on his own agenda before the message was filtered up to Rogue Command.
The Ops team moved in immediately. Their footfalls were not muffled as they stormed down the corridor on both ends to detain the Rogue, high powered rifles on the ready to surround him. They had not been given any order to stand down by command and would treat him as a hostile turncoat. It would not be without a measure of satisfaction as some took their loyalty as a trait of choice. To them, the fact that one of their own had turned traitor, as far as they thought to this point, was a personal slight.
…
Carter pressed the elevator button again but it wouldn’t budge, they must’ve turned it off. He wondered about Autumn, if she had been captured or killed it’d be a deathtrap for him up there. Carter heard the approaching footsteps and reached to his side, retrieving an energy grenade. He clicked the button down and waited for them to approach as the grenade began to whirr. He spotted them stacking up on a corner, getting ready to advance on him. Winding back he hurled the grenade down the hall then ran to the elevator doors. Reaching in between he pulled the doors apart, revealing the elevator shaft. Slipping through, he grabbed onto the maintenance ladder and prepared to climb. Reaching nearby he ripped a pipe from the wall, jamming it against the elevator doors to slow down his pursuers. As he climbed he could hear the faint voices of Autumn and someone else. He cursed, wondering why Autumn was wasting time talking to the man and not killing him. More likely, something was wrong.
As he reached the doors leading to Cowell’s office, he shimmied out to the ledge beneath it. With one hand he reached up and cracked the door, seeing no one in sight. Hoisting the doors open, he pulled himself up and scanned the room. He sensed an ambush, and he was right. A squad of guards emerged and began firing at him, one of them fired a scrambler dart. The dart struck his chest plate, and his suit began malfunctioning. Sparks ran over his armor as the dart sent surges through its systems. Carter grunted as his HUD’s errors obscured his vision and a haze of bullets fell upon him. He couldn’t see Autumn anywhere, he only had one choice.
With a yell he dove backwards through the elevator doors, falling down the shaft. A loud slam reverberated through the shaft and halls as Carter hit the bottom of the shaft. The dart had fallen out at some point, and his suit’s systems rebooted as he pulled himself from the ground. He looked up just as the guards began firing down the shaft, tossing grenades down with him. Shaking off the mild pain he charged into the only door in sight - crashing through into an office hallway. Ducking into a nearby office he took cover behind a corner, waiting to see if he was pursued. “Hazel, do you read?” He spoke over his comm, attempting the frequency Hazel had given for contact.
---
Autumn allowed Cowell’s men to lead her down the hallway, who held her arms in a vise-like grip. She was holding out for her partner to arrive. But she came to a sudden halt when she heard the grenade, which sent a small shudder through the structure, and stopped the guards up short. They tugged violently on her arm to get her going again, and she fought as much as she could to slow them down when she heard movement in the elevator shaft. That gave them all pause.
Then the sound of gunfire. Autumn struggled harder and managed to twist away from one of them. Then a loud thud. Autumn went still and a little pale, afraid that her new partner was dead, but upon hearing more gunfire, she knew that he had not. The smiles of victory faded from her captors faces. She thrashed violently now, planting her feet to deter any further progress, nearly dislocating the arm that held her. Annoyed by the struggle, the man withdrew his handgun and struck Autumn hard in the back of the head. with the butt of it. She went limp and her slight frame was easy enough to drag to the interrogation room.
Back at the rebel camp, Hazel was surprised to hear Carter’s voice over the comm channel. It was only to be used for emergencies. She fitted the headpiece over her head and talked into it. “This is Hazel. Is there a situation, soldier? Did you kill the target?”
Michael Cowell knew that it was just a matter of time before the girl’s partner was brought to him, dead or alive. Even a Rogue wasn’t infallible. It was just a minor nuisance. He could hear the Ops team maneuver through the corridor.
“The Rogue has gone below, sir. We’re in pursuit.”
“Let me know when you have him, dead or alive. I’ll be listening.”
He had no plans to stay where he was when the missing partner could double back and find him in his office. Besides, he had other activities to attend to. Namely, getting information out of a rebel who was little more than a child. He so looked forward to good old fashioned interrogations. He did not feel obligated to follow police procedures. They were too tame for his tastes. Police simply looked the other way when bribes were involved, and he had plenty of money to throw around.
Cowell walked to a panel in the side of his office. He pressed his palm against the panel’s edge, which visually looked to be part of the wall, but was a square sensor with a semi-transparent film to disguise it, which read his palm and confirmed who he was. The panel opened and he was able to walk through a secret access tunnel, lined with a material that could survive a bombing, away from danger. The panel sealed shut behind him looking the very same state it had a moment ago. He was able to walk, without observation, from a respectable business environment into a place where he could carry out more sinister occupations. Namely, his personal research which only he, and a very select few, knew about.
Autumn had been dragged into a stark cell, which was built for only temporary holdings and thus had nothing but four walls of cement stretching higher than one could jump. All of her weapons and personal items had been removed and taken from her, and the cell door had shut tight preventing any means of escape. When Autumn came to, she sat up and gingerly ran her fingers over the swelling behind her head and winced. She lowered her fingers to check for blood but there was none. She got to her feet and immediately looked for a way out, but the only exit was the steel door that did not even echo a knock on it to test its thickness.
She let out a sound of frustration and leaned back against the far wall, crossing her arms. She didn’t have time to think too much on her capture, because the door swung open with a bang. Autumn hadn’t even heard footsteps outside. She kicked herself against the wall as soon as she saw movement and braced her shoulder forward. Who she knocked over in her haste to escape she didn’t know, but she leapt over his prone body and started at a run. There were two ways to go, and she hoped she had picked the right one. Her body slammed against a door as she tried the door handle. It opened easily and she didn’t see that a good sign but in she went. She froze at the doorway, seeing Cowell looking quite amused to see her without an escort. Autumn turned on her heel to go the other way but this time the guard was prepared, and simply shoved his hand into her chest to make her stumble backwards into the very room Cowell had wanted her to be led.
She was spun around, her shoulder seized by a strong hand and shoved down into a seat. Autumn at once tried to get up but the hand slammed her back down again and gripped her shoulder so hard she thought she felt her clavicle crack. She did not move after that, just glared up at Cowell. The bruiser stepped back, crossing his arms.
“What are you going to do with me?” Autumn asked coolly.
“It depends on what you have to tell me and how quickly you do it.”
“Why do you think I will tell you anything?”
Cowell ignored this, his tone smooth, confident he would get his way. He started pacing around her chair, a finger tapping his chin. “
You know, I am quite curious. Why would a Rogue be helping the likes of you? Being a lost cause and all of that.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Autumn shook her head. “I work alone.”
“Someone was trying very hard to get to your position. The fact that he was firing on my own men is suspect enough that he may be your partner.”
“I told you, I work alone. I have no idea who you are talking about.”
Cowell pursed his lips, stopping for a moment.
“Very well, we will get back to that soon enough. I expect the intruder to be captured very soon. Unless we are forced to kill him.”
Cowell watched her face as he said this but Autumn didn’t even flinch.
“You’re one of Hazel’s girls. I can...” he moved his finger around in a small circle. “... sense it about you. A certain naivete. She trusts you, she thought you were good enough to assassinate me. But you didn’t think two steps ahead.” He smirked and tapped his temple. “If you were that good you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“A mistake I intend to remedy.” She cursed herself for the slip up.
“Ah so now we’re getting somewhere.” Cowell smiled brightly.
“However we come back to the fact that you did not do this alone. No rebel could have known the inner workings of this place.” He raised his brow. “But a traitorous Rogue, that is a whole different matter.”
Cowell leaned in to peer close to Autumn’s face, ready to pose a question to her. The bruiser came forward to clutch Autumn’s shoulders, crushing her to the back of the chair. Another made ready to tie Autumn down if she made a move.
And move she did. She reared up a knee and hit Cowell straight in the crotch.
…
“I’ve been cut off from Knives, I sent her up to take out the target but I think she’s been captured. The building is on full alert, escape options limited.” He took note of the window behind him, it was a long drop but it wouldn’t hurt him much. He peeked over the edge of his cover, no one was in sight. Shortly they’d have this whole floor on lockdown, he’d have to do something fast. “I attempted to go after her but they are ready for me. I heard her talking to someone, I think they’re taking her alive. Recommend mission abort, what are your orders?”
---
His report was met with a string of swear words, spoken away from the mouthpiece but still audible. Hazel let out a long sigh, trying to compose herself. From within the command tent, William gave her a quizzical look and Hazel switched on a speaker through which their conversation could be heard.
“It’s Cowell she was talking to, I am certain of it. If she didn’t meet up with you she’s been captured. I did not expect failure, but then again I didn’t think you two would be separated. If she was not able to rendezvous with you she has undoubtedly been captured. Cowell is a sadistic bastard, I don’t know if we’ll be seeing her again.”
There was a few moments of silence. Hazel was upset that they had not killed Michael Cowell but even more so that someone she cared for would likely be tortured for information she would not otherwise be inclined to share. Hazel’s voice was flat as she decided the next action to take.
“Come back to base and make sure you aren’t followed, soldier. We will regroup here at the command tent. You, William and I will explore our options and create a new plan of action.” That was all they could do for now. “Hazel out.”
Hazel switched off the speaker, slammed the headset down onto the table and put a hand over her face. William came behind her and squeezed her shoulder.
“She meant a lot to you, that girl.”
“Yes,” Hazel’s voice was muffled but clearly emotional.
“I don’t know if we can recover her, not without a full out assault.”
Hazel simply nodded, letting her hand drop after trying to rub out the worry on her features. The pit of her stomach was in turmoil. “We still have some advantage if the soldier returns to us alive. We still have his maps. Perhaps we can find another way in, something...”
“What we need to focus on is to eliminate Cowell, not a rescue mission. There is a possibility the girl will find a way to escape on her own.” He offered.
“Even if she does make her way back here, it will likely be because Cowell wants her to. She may be compromised. Dammit, William... don’t you understand? The girl we know as Autumn may not exist by tomorrow. And I don’t mean she will be dead.”
William’s brow knit. “You’re talking about brainwashing.”
Hazel nodded slowly in affirmation.
William sighed and ran a hand over his face. “There is nothing to be done, Hazel. “He said tiredly. “We need to focus on the greater good here, not the life of one individual.”
“Where have I heard that before?” She replied dryly.
…
Cowell let out a long hissing sound and stumbled backwards. The bruiser behind her twisted and struck her so hard she fell out of her chair, then kicked her hard in the stomach and Autumn doubled over into the fetal position where she lay before Cowell could say a word. But Cowell did not disagree with the treatment.
“You little bitch!” Cowell hissed when he caught his breath. “If you don’t want to cooperate then we’ll just have to move on to more persuasive methods.”
Cowell stood up and walked aside to a table on which her belongings were spread as well as the weapons that had been seized from her upon capture. He lifted up one of her knives off the table, examining it for a moment and running a finger down the length of the blade. He turned his eyes towards Autumn’s face and smiled, toying with her, and set it down. Then he picked up the rifle to examine it.
“A crude sort of weapon. I wonder what it does. Shall we find out then?”
Autumn only glared at him. She was in the process of being bound and tied to the chair in which she was sitting, made of a solid oak. Cowell powered up the weapon and walked to the rear of the chair, so that she may not see him. Autumn looked ahead, expecting the worst. He may kill her, but then again, she had not revealed a thing so it was likely he was just toying with her. The barrel of the rifle pressed against the back of her head and left there a few moments. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to pull the trigger.
“Hmm, I think not.” He pulled the weapon back and instead walked around her. He held the rifle up with a shit-faced grin, then lowered the weapon and fired without warning. The bullet pierced her thigh. She gasped and widened her eyes, her mind reeling with the pain. She let out a little moan, but she could not move her hand to staunch the open wound, which pumped out blood at an alarming rate.
Cowell chuckled and nodded to a man, who walked quickly to bind it. “You see what happens when you don’t cooperate. Where should I shoot next, I wonder?” Are you willing to answer my questions now?”
Autumn was shivering in shock and glared at him. Thankfully the magazine had been fitted with regular bullets, or else her flesh would be disintegrating. She did not grace him with a response.
“You are vermin,” he sneered. “You are nothing to me, of course. Why shouldn’t I just kill you? But I need your memories, your erratic, imperfect brain. Your fighting spirit is getting in the way. I just need to find a way to break you down. And rest assured, I’ve had practice in these matters.”
Cowell raised the weapon again, at which Autumn reflexively flinched. “Tell me where you want it this time, I’ll give you a choice.”
A choice? What the fuck mattered where he shot her it would still hurt her. She blinked a little, the words bore into her mind and began to multiply in force. Her eyes darted about, her breathing became quicker, and sweat broke on her brow, all to Cowell’s glee.
“Times up.” Cowell said simply, setting his own twisted set of rules. He raised the rifle upwards, to the side, and shot her next in the shoulder.
Autumn recoiled, her fists gripping against the arms of the chair, letting in a long, shaky breath. This wound too would be bound up quickly, to keep her somewhat in a good state of health.
“Again?” He waved the rifle like it was something she might want.
“No, no.” Autumn said, shaking her head violently. She wasn’t thinking clearly, her mind was muddled by the pain, and an instinctive sense of fear. But what was the question, what was... in her primal delirium she had forgotten what he wanted of her. She just didn’t want to be shot again.
Cowell laughed at this. “Well it seems to be having the right effect anyway,” speaking more to himself than to anyone else. He reached over and returned the rifle to the table, Autumn’s eyes never left it until it was set down. Her eyes flicked back up to his face.
“Now that I seem to have your cooperation, what is your name, girl?”
She blinked up at him, surprised that he had asked. Captors did not bother to get personal with prisoners, their tenuous relationship never lasted long. But at least at the time being he wasn’t calling her vermin.
“Knives.” She replied simply.
‘No, no...” Cowell chuckled and shook his head. “Your real name.”
“I don’t give out my real name, you’ll have to live with that one.” She said flatly.
“Very well, Knives. I suppose this is your namesake then?”
Cowell reached over and picked one of the pair of combat knives resting on the table. Cowell flipped the knife in his hands so that his fingers held the hilt and the flat of the blade rested against his forearm, as one may carry a knife so that it may not catch on anything one passed by. It curiously looked like he was trying to disguise it up his sleeve, but he knew very well that the girl knew he had it. He paced about the room and stopped an arms length away from Autumn. She could hear the blade tapping against his wrist.
Autumn gave him a wry smile. “What do you think?”
“I think it is funny to call yourself something so objectively.” He replied, giving a shrug. “If you were to die, for instance, no one would ever know who you really were. But that is just the point, isn’t it, Knives.”
She simply shrugged, looking away.
“But there is someone who does care, isn’t there?”
Her eyes darted quickly up to his. He smiled sickeningly sweet, in some knowing way.
“Oh, now I’ve hit a vein.” He chortled.
“I have no one.” She fumed back. “You hunt us down and kill us off, just because--”
“Hunt you down?” He said incredulously. “No, you came for me. You got yourself into this, Knives.” Cowell pointed the blade accusingly at her. “You deserve every bit of pain I give you. You would have done the same for me.”
“It would have been a quick death,” she sputtered back. “None of this masochistic torture bullshit. Why don’t you get over with and kill me? I am nothing to you.”
“That is right, you are nothing!” He countered back. “To make things worse, you’re just barely more than a child trying to play in a grown up world. You’re playing with things you don’t understand. Do you believe everything the rebels have told you?”
“I know you’re a monster,” Autumn hissed back. “I have seen it for myself, it isn’t just words! You grow people to fight your wars, you kill people because they are different, you experiment on people that don’t know what they are getting in to. You discard mutations because you can’t bear to have them in this stinking city, even if they are helpless and can’t fend for themselves!”
“But it is all for the--”
“The Greater Good, yeah I know your stupid saying.” She bristled in response. “You use it as a shield to mask the atrocities you commit...”
“That is just about enough out of you, girl--”
“You profit on the misfortunes of others. You...”
“I said shut up!” Cowell raged and reached out to punch her, but in his rage he forgot the knife. It plunged deep into her upper chest. He froze, surprised at what he had done, and released the blade, pulling his hand away.
Autumn was in a state of shock. She sputtered out blood before letting out a long shivering groan, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her body trembled as she looked down to her own familiar knife hilt, the rest of the blade was somewhere inside her. Take it out... please...
Cowell looked around at his men, quickly barking orders. “You, remove the knife and carry her to the surgery room. I’m not going to have her die, not while I still need information about the rebel leader.”
Autumn fell forward into ones waiting arms after the bounds were cut and the knife was taken out from in her and a cloth pressed to the wound on her chest. She was picked up to be carried in haste, because if they let her die Cowell would not be happy. But it wasn’t going to be a public ER she was carried to, but instead the genetics lab.
They lay her onto a metal slab and get to work fixing the damage the wounds have done, tearing out the bullets with pincers and using a device to cauterize the weeping arteries. Their movements had alerted the guards, some having had taken chase to the Rogue, but stood down when they saw it was Cowell’s men.
The team leader looked at the young woman on the slab as they worked over her, her shirt torn open and covered with blood. “Is... everything all right in here?” His voice was mixed with the static that came out in his helmet’s communications. Autumn’s head slowly turned, her eyes clouded with a haze of pain and the drugs they had injected into her. She opened her mouth as if to speak but nothing but a small squeak came out.
“Nothing to see here, I suggest you move on.” Was the cool reply.
“Very well... sir.” The team leader added flatly and moved on with a signal to his team and they continued down the corridor, doing a thorough search by cautiously opening doors and listening for movement as all personnel had been recalled to avoid civilian crossfire as they searched for the intruder. There were no signs of him but they were ordered to do a top and bottom sweep since the target had disappeared.
…
“Roger, I’m on my way.” Carter glanced around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, then reached over and opened the window. Outside he could see Utopia in the distance, below was an open field, the forest in the distance. He could hear the clack of boots on the tile as the guards approached his room. Trying to stay stealthy he climbed out the window and shut it, carefully descending using the edges and window sills. Once he was near 30 feet from the ground he let go and hit the ground, landing on his feet, sending minor debris flying away. He crept through the field, luckily most of the guards had been called inside to comb the building leaving his escape open.
Carter backtracked to the place they had left their motorcycles, making sure they had not been compromised. He paused as he climbed aboard the cycle, looking up at the facility - wondering where they had taken Autumn. He would’ve preferred to make it out with her, but he supposed he didn’t really care what they did with her. He fired up the engine and rode swiftly back to the camp, making sure he was not followed.
Bursting into the command tent he confronted Hazel, “Reporting for duty, ma’am. I recovered this intel from the facility, it’s not much, but we didn’t have room to carry it all.” He tossed his bag onto the table, “Documents and data from one of their genetics labs.”
---
If the guards had heard the impact of his boots upon the ground, there was no indication of pursuit. Either his escape had been unnoticed or the enemy knew that once he was out of the building, he would be hard to track and did not pursue. After all, their orders were to protect Cowell, not hunt down a runner, even if he was a dangerous element.
They were expecting him, William and Hazel. Her eyes followed the bag as he tossed it on the table. She slowly looked up at him. “Take off your helmet, it bothers me to not see someone’s face when I am talking to them.”
As he did so, she crossed the tent in a quick stride to meet him, and promptly slapped Carter hard against the face with the flat of her palm. She raised a finger and pointed it at him accusingly, her face close to his, her words coming out in an angry hiss., her voice increasing in pitch. “That is for losing sight of Autumn. You two were a team. You were supposed to stick together, you were supposed to watch each other’s backs. And now they’re doing who God knows what to her and you let them take her!”
“Easy Hazel,” William voiced carefully. “It isn’t his fault.”
She rounded on William. “Isn’t it?”
Then her form lost its tension, her hands lowered uselessly to her sides, the rage leaving her body as she lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, just… give me a moment.” She turned and ducked out of the tent so that she could get some air.
William watched her go, leaning back against the table, letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, soldier. Autumn was something like daughter to her. She needs to find someone to blame, and I guess it’s you. It’s going to be a while until she lets go, she’s got hope that somehow Autumn will come back to her just the same as she was. But between you and me, I don’t think it is going to happen…”
He stopped leaning and walked towards Carter, stopping near his shoulder. “And between you and me, if Autumn turns against us, I want you to kill her without hesitation. You’re the only one that could.”
William turned again to look at the table. “You said those came from the genetics lab?” He crossed over to open the bag and take out its contents, lifting out a few data discs and wiped off some of the dust. “These are formatted for the older models...” He set them down and pulled out the rest, laying everything out on the table to take stock at what was recovered. He raised up a video tape and brushed off the label with the palm of his hand in order to read it more clearly. Genome Seed, it read.
“Just, where exactly did you get this?” He turned his head to look at Carter, his voice measured, his eyes narrowing a little. “Do you know what this is, soldier?”
…
Carter had a look of confusion on his face as she struck him, looking as if he wasn’t sure why she did it. Hazel had known the risks of the mission, she had even chosen Autumn specifically. He nodded to William, “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.” Looking down at the disk and nodded, “I imagine it has to do with USEC’s cloning programs. Project Ajax was the name of the name of the project that resulted in Team Rogue. That’s all I know.” He was telling the truth, he wasn’t told much about how he was created and with what - simply that it was the case.
---
William had chuckled when Hazel had slapped Carter across the face. Women were emotional things. To a fault, Hazel had thought that everything would have gone as planned, because it had been a good plan. Practically infallible. She had not counted on failure and least of all that one of them may not return.
He turned the tape over in his hands to examine it for faults, and satisfied that it would play, walked over to a canvas divider in the tent and opened it. In a space that took up about a third of the command tent, William had set up a cache of electrical equipment. Archaic as some may be they were still effective, and he prized not only the older models but what new tech he had gotten his hands on.
William fed the tape into a recording device and snapped on a viewing screen, and witnessed the interview between the subject and the cloning team. “I know about Project Ajax, but not much more than you, soldier.”
Based on the date at the bottom of the video, this was recorded during the apex of the genetics program, where enough funding had been raised through the more commercial aspects of research in order to advance into more private sectors. Investors such as Michael Cowell were able to pursue their own interests and thus Project Ajax was birthed, behind the face of MediCorps to which even then he had strong affiliations, and backed by the government, to which Team Rogue had its beginnings.
William looked over his shoulder as Carter joined him. “I think we can use this to our advantage...”
To the public eye, Team Rogue, or superhumans, represents the very ideal of the perfect man, something which the average man or woman could only dream of achieving.
They show up in droves to the genetic research centers, with money meant for retirement plans and college funds, for genetically altered ovum to be implanted into the uterus of females in order to achieve some level of perfection within a birthed child, rather than to naturally birth a child which were seen as pariahs in modern day society. But superhumans themselves were reserved for the military. And all the while MediCorps pockets swelled from these ventures.
“If the public were to know that the genetic stock to create men such as you was derived from a man such as this,” William gestured to the viewing screen on which his image was paused, “imperfect with few redeeming qualities, they would no doubt be shocked and outraged, and turn this revelation against government to which their own lives have been governed. Those bold enough to harbor such indignancy may take a second look at their society’s foundations and rally to our own cause. However Utopia’s citizens, long under the heel of established law of what is right and what is wrong, may not be capable of outright rebellion. But ultimately, the seed would be sown.”
Presently, Hazel rejoined the two of them, looking far more sober and composed. William brought her up to speed on Carter’s findings and a new fire kindled in Hazel’s belly, which touched her eyes with renewed zeal.
“At least some good came out of this mess,” she commented dryly. “We’ve tried to force a revolution down the public’s throat, but up to this point we have used methods of a more aggressive nature. I don’t think that they could turn a blind eye to this.”
William frowned. “The government may dismiss this as a rebel fabrication.”
“But it will be seen, we can deliver that much,” she countered. “If we had access to Utopia’s broadcasts, say the emergency channel, we could present this material to the public’s eye.”
“With our own insights to get the point across,” William added, nodding.
Hazel turned her eyes on Carter. “We’ll need access to the broadcast station. Do you have the means to get us to where we need to go? William could hack into anything, but we’ll need to clear out the station before we can do so, and right under their noses.”
…
Autumn opened her eyes slowly, sensitive to the light. Her head was pounding and the drugs they had injected into her during the surgery was wearing off. She felt every inch of the wound in her chest, and the fiery bite of where the bullets had torn through her flesh, and she was loathe to move her body. But she needed to know where she was. With careful effort, she was able to sit herself up and scoot herself back against the cement wall. She recognized her surroundings as a holding cell, one meant for longer term imprisonment than the first.
She looked at the door as she heard shifting, and a panel in front of steel bars was slid back so she could be observed. Whoever was behind it saw that she was awake and it snapped shut. She heard footsteps echo down the corridor and she knew her imprisonment inside the cell would shortly come to an end. She couldn’t think straight with her head pounding so, but where she would be taken couldn’t be an improvement.
The door unbolted with a clang, and two capable men barged their way in and lifted her to her feet, and presently dragged her, whether she cooperated with her feet or not, into another room. The door through entered was painted red and she caught the words Experimentation Room printed carefully on its surface. The room was stark white and meticulously clean, and looked like an operating room, with surgical equipment laid out on stainless steel tables set up next to a hospital bed. But more imposing in one corner of the room was a curious machine that looked very much like some bastardization of an electric chair paired with one in which you would lie if you were at the dentist. A shudder went through her although she did not know what purpose it might have.
“Strip out of your clothes and put this on,” one ordered gruffly, and tossed a cloth gown to her after they set her down on the hospital bed. It was one of those that opened in the back and was tied shut. “You can do it voluntarily or we will undress you.” There wasn’t much choice in the matter, and her clothes were in a laughable state as they were. So she complied only to maintain some sense of dignity, although the men were intent on watching her so that she did not try anything. So she turned around to disrobe.
Although she folded her clothes carefully, one of the men picked them up and tossed them unceremoniously into a bin after she had finished. It looked like she wouldn’t be wearing them again. She glanced over at a long mirror on one side of the room, and she guessed that it was a one way observation room. She was startled at what she saw. She looked thinner, wan and unkempt. She could only see the wound in her thigh since she was covered in the thin cloth robe, but it had been stitched shut. She gave the mirror a dark look, having the feeling that Cowell may be on the other side, watching her.
There was a quick rapping at the door, and a man wearing a lab coat over scrubs came in with a clipboard. He looked as any doctor would, and treated her not as an individual but instead something to study. He gave her a quick physical, and seemed to not be bothered by the fact that she was wounded, as if this was common practice. He jotted down notes on the clipboard.
“Subject is in good health,” he mumbled to himself. Ha, that was laughable. “Further medical procedures are approved.” He scrawled his signature at the bottom of the paperwork, and clicked his pen shut before shoving it back into his lab coat pocket. Without another word he left the room, clipboard in hand. She had the feeling he was headed next for the observation room to report to whoever was watching.
She waited, humiliated by the poking and prodding, several minutes before a few more personnel filed in, wearing scrubs as well along with gloves and surgical masks, their hair hidden beneath gauze caps. They must want the room to remain as sterile as possible, and they guided her to the creepy looking chair in the corner of the room, strapped her down, and set up an IV at her inner elbow where injections could be made by syringe. An intravenous drip was set up at her upper hand and taped down. Then the cap that looked as if it should belong to an electric chair for executions was fitted over her head.
Autumn closed her eyes, dread running through her body. They were going to experiment on her, she was sure. Maybe brainwash her even. The person she knew as herself may be gone by the end of the day, replaced by whom she dare not think about. A tear welled up in the corner of her closed eyes and she hadn’t the means to wipe it away, so well was she restrained.
…
Carter nodded to Hazel, “I’m aware of it, but the central broadcasting station is in the middle of the city. Have you ever run ops that far in?” The holographic map lit up from his hand and he examined it, “There are some satellite stations farther away where we could upload the transmission but there’s a risk of them cutting it off if they catch on.” With a flick of his hand he scrolled the map towards the center of Utopia, “Security that deep inside will be military-level, not to mention the building itself.” He paused to consider their other options, if they had the equipment they could broadcast from a remote location. It would reach some of the populace but it wouldn’t take long for the government to firewall their signals.
---
Hazel tilted her head vaguely. “We’ve never broken through the main defenses deep within the city, not that we haven’t tried. Usually we target government offices, political meeting houses, and other influential individuals. We don’t usually hunt down military-level security because we’re in and out before they are aware we’re there. We don’t burrow into their nest. But I am sure we can do it, with the right people.”
William had thought along the same lines as Carter. “I could rig together a remote feed, but we’ll have to get to their broadcast tower. I am certain I can prevent their firewalls from blocking our signal by introducing a virus I’ve been cooking up.” He grinned wickedly.
Hazel chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be something, we just need to catch them with their pants down.” She looked back down at the map that Carter had called up. “We won’t have to go into their nest, not far. We’ll only need to get as far as the tower and climb it, patching into their emergency broadcast channel and splitting the signal, just enough for our purpose. Do you think you could do it, soldier?”
“In the meantime, I’ll put together a loop of the video footage supplemented with some of our own. Hazel, I think you should be the one to present it. You’re the face of the cause and you know how to talk their language. If the public will listen, they’ll listen to you.”
Hazel couldn’t help but agree. “We’ll have to keep it short and sweet.”
…
Carter turned and nodded to Hazel, “Aye aye ma’am. If it’s not a problem, I’m going to rest shortly and prepare for the op. I’ll be in the armory.” With a salute he ducked out of the tent and headed towards the armory. Once inside he shelved his rifle, it was his specialty but for this particular mission he’d need something more close quarters. He walked down past rows of guns ‘til he came to a submachinegun he liked the look of. He pulled it down from the shelf and grabbed a few magazines. After testing it out at the range he determined it was perfect for the mission - compact and low-profile, not too flashy. Holstering it over his pack he stored several more magazines then took a seat in the locker room. He hadn’t slept for several days, but he only needed an hour. Carter shut his eyes and prepared for Hazel to call him.
---
William immediately set to work, setting up recording equipment in the command tent. Hazel would stand before the rebel flag and give the speech she had drafted up. He left her to it after turning on the video recorder, and proceeded to the location they had designated outside the rebel camp to set up everything he would need, running power cables to the generator. Beside the broadcasting equipment he patched through a computer with a view screen. He cracked his knuckles before his fingers flew across the keyboard, inputting commands to his viral program, which he would run in synch with the broadcast as it was sent through the patch connected to the city’s broadcast tower.
Hazel knew enough about the tech to use the video editing program to put together a video loop, starting with her speech presentation, and adding the bits of the video footage of the interview that William thought would be the most effective, as well as some other visual triggers compiled from other video tapes, many of which showed classified behind-the-scenes footage of the evolution of Project Ajax and Genome Seed in addition to bugged transmissions from conversations held between Utopian government officials that the public was never meant to hear. It should prove to be quite effective.
When everything was in place, William and Hazel called in Carter to rendezvous in the command tent and give final orders. Carter was handed the signal splitter device, wrapped protectively in the satchel, and instructed on how to mount it. He was also given a communication device so he could keep Hazel and William up to date as all three would be in separate locations.
William would bunker down at the equipment he had set up to send the data through the remote feed and implement his virus to counter the firewall and stall the broadcast team as long as possible. Hazel would stay in the command tent and give orders to Carter as needed. Now all Carter had to do was stay alive long enough to attach the signal splitter to the broadcast tower and signal when it was in place and functioning as it should.
“Best of luck, soldier. Don’t let me down this time.” Hazel said soberly.
After Carter left, Hazel stopped William for a moment. “I’m going to send some of our own men to the city streets. We’ll make it so that they blend in well, and do the same for their weapons. Depending on the outcome, there is no harm on egging the crowd on with some good old fashioned violence. Our men will be there to stir up the hornet’s nest.”
William shook his head a little and chuckled. “You can never stay away from a good fight.”
Hazel let out a long sigh at that. “Unfortunately showing my face too soon may not be such a good idea. I wish I could be there to see their faces.”
“I can tap into the government’s visual feed, make use of their eyes in the sky. I’ll patch it through right here so you can watch what is going on. I’ve made use of it myself.”
Hazel laughed. “You always have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
William grinned at that. “Well, you know me. I tend to like working behind the lines. I leave the more aggressive maneuvers to you.”
“You’re missing out, you know.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps, but I’m not a young man. I’ve already had my share of killing.”
Hazel tilted her head to the side. “Well, to each his own I suppose. We’d better get ready, the Rogue’s a pro, and since he’s working alone this time...” Sadness touched her voice.
William picked up a communicator. “He’ll do it. And if he fails it’s no skin off our backs.”
“Yeah...” This did not comfort Hazel in the least.
…
Michael Cowell lounged in his penthouse office, his feet kicked up to rest on the polished wood desk top, leaning back in his expensive leather chair while his fingers drummed one another. He looked up at the clock, let his feet down so he could sit up straight, and laced his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them, looking expectantly at his office door.
Which opened presently by one of his men. Cowell’s amused smile turned lightly into a frown momentarily. “You’re late.”
Autumn was pushed through the door first, her hands locked in front of her in manacles. She did not wear the clothing she was accustomed to, that had been burned, instead she wore drab civilian clothing. She stumbled forward a bit, then walked into the middle of his office and stopped short. Her forward stare broke as her eyes looked into Cowell’s.
Cowell’s frowned deepened at he looked up at the pair of men who stood behind Autumn, habitually at parade rest. “Manacles?”
“Just a precaution, sir. The procedure went as planned with no complications. She only remembers enough of her rebel life to suit your needs, the rest of her mind is conditioned as per your instructions.”
“Take the manacles off,” he motioned to Autumn. “I want to test her.”
Autumn raised her wrists cooperatively but betrayed no emotion as she did so, and waited with patience as they were removed. She rubbed her wrists when they were free but did little more than that, straightening her body and looking ahead at Cowell in a passive manner.
Cowell studied her face. There was a blankness there but she remained just as sharp as ever. Her eyes were full of the fire he had seen before, but it was not directed at him. To all appearances she was the same as she was before, her personality intact, her wits about her, her experiences. But she had been conditioned to follow Cowell’s orders without question.
And to hate any member of the rebellion as much as she once hated him.
After a time, the smile returned to Cowell’s face.
“Sit down, my dear. We have some talking to do. Please,” he indicated the chair in front of his desk. As she took a seat Cowell nodded to the two men. “You may wait outside.”
“Yes, sir.” They complied without question and cast no second glance, sure now that she would not cause them any trouble, taking the manacles with them.
“Autumn,” Cowell began with a smile as sly as a cat’s. She had given her name in full cooperation. Her intimate name no longer had any emotional meaning. “You may begin by giving an account of what you know of Hazel and her associates, their locations, and any assets of importance you feel are necessary to bring to my attention.”
He picked up a fine ball point pen and held it over his engraved stationary so that he could take notations of what was said worthy of further thought. He motioned that she may begin.
Autumn did so without any feeling of betrayal towards her previous allies In fact she felt a measure of pleasure in doing so, per her conditioning she was rewarded with a small inkling of elation whenever she was any assistance to her master. The opposite would be true in means of punishment, and she would feel a degree of discomfort that could blossom into pain if she fought against her conditioning. An ingenious addition in Cowell’s opinion was the insertion of a tracking chip in her right forearm. If she were to stray for one reason or another they would know where she went, and she didn’t know anything about it.
…
Carter headed out from the camp, using the same motorcycle as before. His mind wandered to the best course of action for getting into the city. He would stick out a great deal in his armor, but his body wasn’t too subtle either. As he sped along the backroads he reached up and felt the cracks in his visor from the fight with Wolf. It was curious that she had attacked him, given his mission - perhaps they hadn’t told the rest of Rogue about it. It was also curious that she had acted alone, without the rest of the team. Carter believed they were probably trying to give him opportunities to prove his loyalty to the rebels, but the Rogues being used like fodder for his undercover op seemed like a waste to him. He wasn’t confident he could kill them all himself, Wolf had nearly taken him out.
Carter neared the city, greeted by the soaring outer wall - the skyscrapers inside peeking over its edge. There were many entrances to the city, some conventional roads led inside but they had many checkpoints along them. Carter recalled a secret entrance that rebels often used, one that connected to an underground network that Rogue had once been charged with clearing out. Most of the secret entrances and tunnels had been blasted shut, but he wagered he could find one that came out into the city somewhere.
He dismounted his motorcycle and headed once again into the forests surrounding Utopia. The entrance was hidden well, a tiny creek snaked up to the wall of the city and where it met a narrow crack in the wall opened. Branches and debris had been placed carefully to mask its presence, but Carter remembered its location. Tossing a branch aside he gazed down the passage. Seeing no lights, he flicked his night vision on and carefully sidled through the crack. It emptied out into one of the cities sewage tunnels. This one had been cut off however, its water-bed lay dry and there was an extreme smell of staleness. Carter could hear vehicles rushing overhead as the tunnel passed beneath the freeway. Suddenly he heard voices, he could see flashlights ahead. He ducked into an alcove as his helmet scanned them. They were USEC grunts, likely pulled the short stick to get stuck patrolling these abandoned tunnels. They were bored, and chatted idly, they wouldn’t be too thorough with their search. Tucking himself against the wall he waited as they slowly passed by. Stepping out behind them, he carefully made his way forward. After coming upon a few crumbled dead ends, Carter found the passage the police had used to get down there. With a deep breath he climbed the stairs towards the street.
---
Carter was given a funny look from a man hunkered down inside the alley, hiding himself from the shame of the public’s eye. He smelled strongly of liquor and piss and wore tattered clothes, either a chronic drunk or a homeless person. It wasn’t exactly the fact that Carter was a Rogue, rarely seen in singles as it was, but the fact that his armor had seen better days. Even stranger, that he was climbing out of a sewer. The man blinked at him and looked at the bottle in his hand, shrugged, and took another swig. He wasn’t one to talk to drunken hallucinations.
…
Michael Cowell had dismissed Autumn after she had told him everything she knew and he couldn’t have been more pleased. Means of torture against captured rebels had given them information in varying degrees. Some insisted to their deaths that they wouldn’t tell Cowell a thing and some had given into the pain and shared their secrets before being killed anyway. That is what had brought on the raid to Hazel’s camp. But it was never enough. But he wouldn’t need to keep captured rebels alive any longer, he would just dispose of them outright, because now he had Autumn. It was a turn of luck in his favor and he would take full advantage of it. He shuffled the notes together and tapped them on the top of the desk to straighten them and placed the pile before him on the desk. He ran a hand lightly against the top page. A turn of luck indeed.
Autumn returned to her holding cell without resistance, and the fact that the holding cell was sparse instead of comfortable did not offend her in any way. She sat down on the slab that was her bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She had a small smile on her face as the rewards of her conditioning still sent shivers through her body. She had been accustomed to their routines, and when meal time came, she did not attempt escape when the door was opened to set the tray down on the floor. She had no reason to escape, her instructions were to wait for further orders and she would do so with patience. After the door had closed and was bolted shut, she approached the food tray and smiled a little. The usual bland fare was replaced with food that one would actually have pleasure in eating. Another small reward for her cooperation.
Michael Cowell had stayed at his office well into the night, his luxury dinner eaten and shoved aside. The ice clinked as it shifted in his small glass of whiskey, which he took sips from every so often. He drummed his fingers on the desktop, reviewing the quickly scrawled notations that he had made while brainstorming, his keen mind working quickly as he finalized his plan. His lips curved into a smile and he finished his whiskey in one long swallow. As he set down the emptied glass, the ice clinking merrily in the bottom, he reached out to depress a button to call his men to bring in the girl.
They did so, Autumn coming in and standing again before Cowell’s desk, staring ahead blankly. He did not dismiss his men but beckoned them to take a seat at one side of the office. With this pair he trusted them to keep his secrets and they had not disappointed him thus far. Besides, he hated to repeat himself. They remained alert, not because of Autumn’s presence, but to hear what their employer had to say.
Autumn looked to be in a calculative state, without the addition of her previous impatience. She need not keep up her guard in Cowell’s presence. But she did still act on her instincts, those that could never be taken from her. She still had her fighting spirit, the finite movements of a killer, and her burning, intense hatred for her enemies. Only now, the tables had turned, and her enemy was not Michael Cowell.
Her instincts told her that she would finally be of use, and she was wired with a restlessness, her hands itching to do the work for which she had been conditioned to do. A killer without a heart, with no reservations, and without the capability for emotional attachment, not even to Cowell. She would simply obey orders and do so to the death.
“As you and I know the circumstances of your previous mission cannot be revoked. We have accounted for much of the data you tried to take from MediCorps, but not all. Since you were in league with the rogue Rogue,” he chuckled at that, “We can only assume that some of the data regarding Project Ajax and Genome Seed has fallen into the rebel leader’s hands. Damage undoubtedly has been done, and I would not have them act upon this circumstance. However, I cannot afford this data to become common knowledge. I cannot have government troops to get their hands on it either. Thus we have a problem.”
“I don’t know how Team Rogue managed to let this Dagger of yours to slip by, and the fact that his treasonous acts have not been extinguished I can only guess that Team Rogue is hiding something from me. I intend to start an investigation in the matter with military colleagues, but even so they may remain tight lipped about the affair.” Then he waved a hand dismissively.
“But I digress. I am sure the rebel leaders by now have acted upon this advantage, although when and how I do not know. Based on what you have told me, Hazel counted on you and the Rogue to complete my assassination, and only you two. Since they no longer have you as a resource they are forced to solely rely on the Rogue, hair trigger though he may be... Wouldn’t I love to pick at his brain and find out his secrets,” he said more to himself.
Cowell frowned. “I don’t know what Hazel is planning but she has undoubtedly sent him back out to our city to enact some plan, taking full advantage of this inconvenience of ours.” He slammed his fist on the table. “I want him found, the Rogue. I will comb the city until he is found and destroy him.”
“But not you, my dear. I have other plans for you. You are going to return to the rebel camp, recover our information, and assassinate Hazel. She tried to kill me using you, and I intend to do the same.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “How heartbreaking it will be to have you as her killer.”
Autumn had barely blinked. The thought held no emotion for her. Cowell was pleased.
He turned his head to address his men. “Call in the troops for a short briefing. I want to get underway immediately.” He rose to stand. “The sooner the Rogue is found, the better.”
“Oh, and Autumn.” He looked at her as he passed her to leave. “Report to the armory, you will find your weapons there. Take an earpiece communicator, you will hear new orders as I see fit. Make use of some Ops armor as well if you are so inclined. You may leave when you are ready. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I would not dare to, sir.” Autumn looked at him blankly. Without another word she followed his orders to the letter. After she was suited up and armed, flipping shut the visor as the suit powered on. She slipped out of the armory and down the hall, walking out into the open streets beyond, free to do as she wished so long as she completed her mission in a timely manner. They trusted her, so thorough had been her conditioning.
She heard the quick paced march as the Ops troops were deployed. Her own Ops armor displayed no insignia and she was not inclined to join their movements. They broke up into groups and spread out to scope out the city, night visors powered on, rifles at the ready. Cowell was sure that the Rogue would be routed out before dawn. Autumn turned away and took her own route through the city.
A curfew had been mandated for the public, and they scurried to their homes as Ops troops combed the streets, unwilling to get in the way, or labeled as sympathisers. The homeless and drug addicts had nowhere to go and thus made themselves as scarce as they could, fleeing to city parks and alleyways. If they were found in passing, they were questioned immediately, and anyone in suspicion was arrested immediately.
The rebels that Hazel herself had deployed had contacts in the city, those of William’s men who acted as moles in the system. They had hidden caches of weapons and ammunition behind walls and underneath the floorboards where they wouldn’t easily be found. And there was hope that if this broadcast was successfully transmitted and seen by the public, that these caches would finally be of use.
…
Carter stalked through the backstreets, careful to avoid being seen as much as he could. Through the narrow gap in the buildings above him he could see the flashing lights of the beacon towering over the city. As he neared the center of the city the security forces came out in force, there were checkpoints on every street and constant patrols. Carter was no stranger to stealth, and had been trained in avoidance several times over what these men were trained in detection. Their sheer numbers however, made up for that. Carter found himself ducked within an alcove, hiding in the shadows as he heard the sound of an approaching patrol. These men weren’t slacking, they were checking their corners, they’d find him if he allowed them to. Carefully sliding a suppressor onto his SMG, he tensed as he prepared to engage them.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, whipping around he saw a shadow in the dark, and it spoke, “Hazel sent me, I can help you get inside the broadcast building.” Carter lowered his gun and examined the man through his night-vision. He looked like any other official from this part of the city, Carter wondered if this man was a convert or just a well disguised rebel agent. With a nod Carter followed the man as he led him into a nearby building, buildings with limited access. They passed through office buildings and apartment complexes, carefully avoiding the patrols and security bots. Finally they entered a building that was very close to his destination, the building was mostly abandoned, which was curious given their proximity to the center of the city. The rebel spoke, “This is as close as I can get you, the security on the ground past this point is nigh-impassable. We’ve left a delivery mechanism for you on the roof, it should help you get the rest of the way.” Carter nodded, heading for the stairs, leaving the rebel somewhat stunned that he wasn’t thanked in some way.
As he climbed the stairwell he heard sirens pass by the building, so far his infiltration had gone perfectly but the hardest part was yet to come. He reached the top floor and carefully opened the roof access, making sure no snipers had been placed but like the rest of the building it was barren. A small crate lay in the center of the roof, and Carter carefully approached it, lifting the tip to peer inside. Inside was some kind of jerry-rigged aerial insertion device, a parachute combined with a tiny propulsion engine. Carter pulled it out and examined it, looking forward at the gap between this building and the broadcast hub. It likely had not been designed to carry someone in full armor, so that had to be accounted for. Carter hooked it up to his suit, stepping away from the edge of the building to get a running start. Breaking into a sprint he stepped up and leapt off the roof, hitting the ignition. The engine was quieter than he expected as it ignited and sent him sailing towards the broadcast station. He glanced below and saw dozens of security personnel and vehicles scurrying back and forth - little did they know all they had to do was look up.
The massive broadcasting building got closer and closer, the roof in sight. The engine started to sputter, it had already used its fuel reserves getting him this far. As it sputtered to a stop he started to lose altitude, this was going to be messy. Carter’s only option was to go crashing through one of the building’s windows, and simply pray he hit a floor where people weren’t working. As he drifted closer he angled downwards, increasing his air speed. Bracing himself he cut the parachute loose, flying towards the building. He smashed through the window, hitting the inside of an office level, sliding across the floor on his back. As he came to a stop he quickly looked around; to his relief the office was dimmed, but in the hallway a light flicked on, someone was coming. Gathering himself he ducked behind a desk and waited, hoping whoever it was would come into the room so he could make sure they didn’t tell anyone what they heard.
---
It was a part time security guard, cracking open the door and clicking on a flashlight. He flashed it around a bit and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand as he had spilled coffee down his shirt when startled by the noise. He stepped inside, walking slowly down the main aisle and paused when he saw the window. The guard frowned and walked towards it to investigate, the light from his flashlight bobbing as he walked. He stepped as far as he dared forward broken glass, his boots crushing bits of it scattered on the floor, and stretched his body so that he could see below. He could see security personnel maneuvering down below, but who they were searching for wasn’t known to him. He turned and flashed his light about, and paused near the desk cubicle that Carter was hiding in, straining his ears for any noise other than his own breathing. He wanted to get back to his sandwich, but protocol told him he had to at least attempt an investigation. The guard let out a long yawn. Or he could leave it to the morning shift to figure this out and he could get back to the slow grind of the night shift. And his sandwich.
…
Autumn walked in full view of the patrols, she had nothing to hide. They didn’t question her further than to ask if she had seen the Rogue. She had not. Seeing that she was in Ops gear, they did not detain her further. Autumn found herself amused at their maneuvers. So many security personnel and nothing to show for it. A curious feeling piqued inside her. She wasn’t even looking for the Rogue, but if she should find him and not Ops, it would be amusing indeed. She surveyed the streets left and right. Non military were nowhere to be found, all were huddled in their homes or inside public buildings. Nothing on the streets other than military vehicles and police, she had never seen the city so deserted. Perhaps it was better this way, because a Rogue was not to be taken lightly. She wondered if any of these men even could fight one on one with her former partner and live. It was unlikely.
Which brought her own survival in mind. She slipped into the darkness far more covertly, her night vision humming to life as she stayed out of the light, her Ops armor painted so that it did not reflect the street lamps and storefront neon. She was in constant awareness in the noise her movements made. Delicious shivers went down her spine. Danger made her feel alive. Did she dare disobey orders and divert her path to find the pest? She was answered by a dull ache in her head, a precursor to what may begin to happen if she did not follow Cowell’s instructions.
“I guess not,” she said through gritted teeth. But she stayed watchful and cautious all the same. She would be able to alert both Cowell and the ground patrol if she detected the Rogue’s presence, but like the others she did not think to look skyward, though the sound of shattering glass gave her pause.
What the hell was that?
For all she knew some idiot had targeted a storefront window while there was no one to watch him. Not that thievery was the best idea at the moment. Still, a snatch and grab was possible. Let the police deal with it. She shrugged and moved on. She had orders to carry out and would do so without further hesitation. She cleared her mind of everything but the quickest path out of Utopia.
…
As the guard gave up his search and headed for the door Carter crept behind him and struck him with the grip of his sidearm, just enough to knock him unconscious. Carter grabbed the man and dragged him behind a desk, shoving him underneath. He carefully entered the hall, looking out for security cameras. The desk at the end of the hall now lay empty, the security team would probably radio in shortly for a status report, so his time was limited. He had only landed a few floors down from the roof, and the security this close to the top wasn’t superb. The stairwell would be full of security cameras, he walked to the security desk and examined the controls. Turning them off would alert security, but it was better than them seeing him on camera - this could be brushed off as a mistake, seeing as the guard was strangely away from his desk.
Flipping a few switches he headed for the stairwell, the cameras within all dimmed. As he neared the top he heard the sound of a door opening below him, likely the security team going to investigate the outage. Increasing his pace, he reached the door to the roof access, but it was secured with a keycard. His old clearance wouldn’t be enough for this door, he’d have to attempt a hack. His suit had built in interfaces, so he held his hand over the card reader and waited, his AI would try its best. After a few moments the lock clicked and the door fell open, he wasn’t home free though, the security forces would’ve seen the roof being accessed in their system - it was crunch time.
Passing through the door, he gazed up at the great broadcast tower, dozens of flashing lights illuminating its shaft. Running to the base of the tower he took out the portable terminal Hazel had given him and wired it into the cable box attached to the tower. The terminal began its diagnostic, “Hazel, I’ve reached the tower, terminal is online, ready for your transmission.”
---
“Good work, soldier.” Hazel sounded genuinely happy. “William, now is your time to shine.”
Got it Hazel, William’s voice was heard over the intercom. Inputting the virus now, beginning transmission...
Hazel lowered the communication device, her eyes now glued to the viewscreen that was tuned into the emergency broadcast, which had thus far been only static...
The signal that an emergency broadcast was about to take place blared from every screen in the city proper. Television sets priced for sale and set along the window fronts snapped off the local programming and tuned into the emergency channel. Screens all over the city, meant for news broadcasts, the stock market exchange, and educational channels in libraries and in museums, and those inside the schools, and homes, all were interrupted. Patrols slowed and let perpetrators go ordering them to get off the streets and back to their houses.
The emergency broadcast was only used in matters of great distress, such as the war on terrorism, breakouts of a contagious disease which had to be quarantined and were zones to stay away from. When updates were necessary, the public speaker speeches were tailored to instruct Utopian citizens on how to react, what to say and do, how to think and feel, and ultimately give their full cooperation towards what the governor thought had to be done, without question.
The public expected the mayor to give some address, or some governor. They were not prepared for the image of the rebel female whose face had been printed on propaganda and wanted posters. Most citizens stopped what they were doing, mouths gaping in disbelief. There was suspicion, there was curiosity, so they remained riveted to the screen, emboldened that they were in the privacy of their own home.
“People of Utopia, I present to you a reality which must be heard. Do not close your ears to what I have to say, for you have long closed your eyes against the tyranny that your government has imposed onto your lives. Open your eyes and witness this truth, I only ask for your consideration.”
Her image was replaced by video footage, her speech now a voice over as images assaulted the public’s eyes. That turned the heads of the patrols on the street and the search progress stalled as many of the troops did the same, looking up at a screen as the rebel leader’s voice rang through the empty streets audibly. Military vehicles guttered to a stop and as the engineer opened the hatch to see why no one was moving he was shushed and directed to look at the screen.
“Your government has kept secrets from you that you have a right to know. They have told you what is right and what is wrong for so long that you have forgotten what it is to think for yourselves. They have passed laws that you have obediently followed.
“And you may say, why not? They have given you safety, they have kept you from sickness, and they have created a perfect world that can rightfully be called Utopia. But you cannot be more wrong. This perfection demands sacrifice, and you have been led like lambs to the slaughter.”
Upon the screen, her voice continued as new images of top secret medical experiments resulting in mutations were witnessed, as well as their immediate execution and disposal. Recordings of natural born children left for dead by starvation or exposure, by terrified mothers and fathers. Military footage of raids sent out to round up rebels, adults and children alike, and taking their men as prisoners to torture.
“You close your eyes to the genocide of hundreds upon hundreds of people who deserve the same rights to life as you, those that the government label as mutations and monsters, discarded by MediCorps’ medical experiments. You deny yourselves natural born children because they tell you that imperfection is a sin, and they too have been discarded. You have denied yourselves the natural evolution that human beings are meant to have, and it once brought us diversity and made each individual unique and special.
“What is unique about humanity is being bred out of us by clones. Carbon copies of what you call the perfect man. And most magnificent of all are the superhumans, the personification of perfection, and the pinnacle of the new generation of man. People of Utopia, we are being led into our own extinction. All for the sake of perfection, all for the sake of the Greater Good. This is what you are led to believe.”
Now it cut to old footage of the early stages of Project Ajax and Genome Seed that Carter himself had recovered, of these superhumans that were being grown in suspension, and the failures being eradicated so that they could start again before they had time to fully mature. Even superhumans could be discarded if they didn’t make the cut, what did that say about the “normals?”
“And the truth I wish to share with you is this. This new race of superhumans are themselves imperfect. They do not come from some divine purpose. You put yourselves under the knife, you donate yourselves to science, you make sacrifice after sacrifice because you are programmed to hate everything that you are. I ask that you open your eyes and realize that what you are is what is right and what is good. Do not forsake yourselves, people of Utopia.
”Is this the very model of perfection that MediCorps would have you believe? Is this what you wish to attain to be? Ask yourselves, is this worth the price you have paid? They have pulled the wool over your eyes... but no longer!”
Finally, the interview between MediCorps and the handsome progenitor. It was quickly seen that his greed outweighed any physical redeeming qualities. He sold himself not in the interest of genetic progression but for money. His goods bartered for, bought and sold, his genes cut and spliced to cookie cutter specifications. Clones. Superhumans.
To know that “perfection” was derived from someone this despicable and self-serving toed the line. Especially since the pubic had sacrificed their own hard earned money to attain this same genetic material that had been advertised as “perfect.” They had seen Superhumans as gods, but now they too were imperfect. The knowledge was unsettling.
The interview was cut short as the firewalls finally cut through the remote feed. But it was too late to revoke what had been seen. Every image displayed cut through their minds, disturbing and too real to be staged by terrorists.
…
Michael Cowell witnessed this broadcast on the giant screen mounted on his expansive, luxurious bathroom. He sputtered in indignation and wrapped a towel around his waist, almost losing his footing on the floor, wet from the shower he had been taking. He practically dove for the telephone in the master bedroom and dialed a number.
“What do you mean you can’t shut it down? A virus?! … No, I don’t care how you do it but you better cut that transmission off and fast or heads are going to roll, starting with yours! … Then goddamn wake him up and get him down there, I want the firewalls up and running! Then why the hell didn’t you do that in the first place?” Cowell slapped a hand over his face and gritted his teeth. “Listen you, if you don’t get that transmission off the air immediately I am going to personally come down to the station and skin you alive!”
He slammed the headset down so hard the polished surface on his bedside table cracked. He started dressing himself feverishly, listening to Hazel’s impudent words from the bathroom. He ducked inside and watched as the screen changed to the interview and ground his teeth.
Hazel. He grabbed a glass on the countertop and was about to throw it when the transmission was brought to an abrupt end. He let in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, set the glass back down, turned and walked back to his phone to contact the head of the Ops team. Cowell was practically foaming at the mouth he was in such a state of rage.
“The Rogue has to be somewhere around the broadcast tower.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. By now most of Utopia knew about the transmission. Who knew what they were saying about it. He had to make preparations for a rebellion.
“I want a full team there to block the exit routes. Yes, fine, bring in the heavy machinery whatever you have to do. Send the remaining ground troops and cooperate with the city police to set up more road blocks. Don’t allow the public time to get restless and start wandering the streets, keep them contained. Yes, make arrests if you must. I want full riot gear... and commander, don’t let the Rogue leave there alive.”
…
As soon as the broadcast had begun, the security team had started to come after him on the roof. He was taking cover behind the tower, keeping them suppressed through the chokepoint. If they tried to run through they’d be shot immediately and they knew it, but they were simply waiting for backup. Sooner or later they’d have the right equipment to flush him out, but Carter already knew he only had one escape route. In the brief moments he had had before they arrived he had scoped out each side of the building, looking for the best place to jump. There was a nearby building whose roof was lower than the broadcast station, much too far for a normal person to survive. He could make it, but just barely, and it would cost him his armor. Firing a few more bursts towards the doorway he started backpedalling towards the side of the building. He heard the whirring of an approaching helicopter and knew he had to be quick. Reaching into his pack he wound up and rolled a grenade towards the door before turning and breaking into a run towards the edge.
Leaping off the side he put his back to the ground and folded his arms, bracing for his impact against the concrete roof. His impact on the roof shook the building to its foundation, causing his more pain than he was used to. The HUD on his helmet flashed red as multiple systems were damaged heavily. The time had come. Pulling himself from the ground he wrapped his hands around his helmet and pulled it off, turning it over and looking at it for a long moment, running his fingers again over the cracks in the visor. With a grunt he hurled it over the edge of the building, then set to removing the rest of the armor. With it finally removed he reached into his pack and retrieved the disguise he had prepared. The were simply clothes, but with a long coat and hood to hide his features. He was still unnaturally tall and his eyes would be a dead giveaway, but it was his best chance.
The building he had landed on was luckily empty, all the employees gone for the night. Moving quickly, he headed down the stairs to the ground floor heading through the exit onto the street, tucking his guns away. He would head for the same way he came in, he was doubtful they had secured it.
---
The rebel who had assisted his entrance was nowhere to be found and would have likely found a place to hide himself as the patrols on the streets thickened. There was a heaviness in the air as Carter crept out into the open, as if before a great storm. The riot police stood in formation on the city streets, and for a few moments everything was still, as if the world was holding its breath.
Whether they had wanted it or not, every citizen had been changed in some way by what was witnessed. Some were full of fear, undecided whether they were willing to accept what had been shown to them or to dismiss it as fabrication. But there were others, who knew that to turn away from these truths would be a lie in itself. Some even felt they had to do something about it, rebellion rising burning hot within their bellies. Feelings of anger, betrayal, and indignation.
There were shouts from the riot police. “Stay in your homes. Return immediately. Do not come any closer or we will be forced to open fire.” Suddenly sounds of gunfire echoed in the streets, breaking the poignant silence. It came from every direction, mostly in the residential areas.
Citizens began to throw stones, or bricks, or anything they could get their hands on at the police. The rebels had made their move, opening fire on the riot police. Weapon caches had been opened and were passed around to their new allies. Something of a stampede started to surge through the streets as the police began to be overwhelmed, bring out their batons and cracking skulls, shooting tear gas, or using their guns. Bodies clashed together in a surging tide.
Emboldened by their actions, surges of elation running through their bodies, they began to destroy public and government properties as they pressed down the avenues towards the government districts, forcing the riot police back or breaking through gaps. Carter himself could easily get lost in the crowd.
…
As the rioting broke out, Carter stayed cool and easily slipped through the crowd, grateful that his mission had actually provided a distraction for his escape. The city had suddenly become a warzone, but Carter continued to make good use of the backstreets, avoiding where the citizens roamed as a mob. Ducking into a safe place he pulled out a headset, fixing it to his ear, “Hazel, looks like your video is having the desired effect. Riots have broken out, the citizens have been armed, they’re giving them hell. I lost my armor in the escape, do I return to base?”
---
Hazel shot William a grin as they listened to Carter’s report inside the command tent. William had joined her as soon as the broadcast had been cut off. She pressed down the communicator button to reply. “If you don’t feel compromised, return to base immediately. Undoubtedly by now Cowell is barking at your heels. I don’t intend him to get his prize...” She hesitated, shooting a look at William. William shook his head and Hazel bit back the compulsion to ask Carter if he had seen Autumn. “Hazel out.”
…
Autumn left the chaos at her back, following a train of thought that led her to backtrack through the creep and come out onto the thin dirt trail where Carter’s motorcycle had been left, just as before. The one she had left days ago had of course been recovered by the rebels when Carter had returned alone. She ran a hand over the handlebars, found keys still in the ignition. She walked around and straddled it and revved it to life.
She didn’t know how much time she had before the Rogue returned to this very spot, and her confiscating the vehicle for her own use would slow him down at the very least, and get her to the rebel camp far more quickly than she had first anticipated. Autumn took off, lowering her body along the body of the motorcycle to maintain top speed, the visor of her helmet still snapped down so the wind did not sting her eyes. Presently, she skidded to a halt about a mile from the camp, letting the engine drone on for a few moments before cutting it off and moving the motorcycle into a thicket of bushes to hide it. She would walk the rest of the way on foot so they did not detect her approach.
She skirted around the camp, moving while darkness of night remained. Inside the camp, most of the rebels would be sleeping. She crossed over the clearing at a low crawl. The tents did not face this side of the Wild where the forest line was congested enough to provide protection, a natural wall of natural savagery.
She saw lights on inside the tents here and there, and crept carefully, listening for stirring and voices. When she did heard rustling about, she ducked behind a shed and waited for the patrol man to pass. She coiled herself to spring and killed the rebel with her knife across his throat. His weapon thudded to the ground as he let out a surprised, choking gurgle. She wiped her knife against his shirt, sheathed it, and continued to shimmy closer to the command tent where she knew Hazel would be. She was racing against time but her stealth was crucial, to catch the rebel leader off guard.
…
In the chaos Carter slipped completely unnoticed through the secret passage, all the guards having been called to help contain the chaos in the streets. He now sat in the woods looking at the clearing where he had left the motorcycle, he held a finger to his ear, “Hazel, do you read? My vehicle is missing.” He paused for a moment, considering the implications, “Only one other person was familiar with this spot.. or a grunt got very lucky.”
A sense of dread swelled into his stomach and he broke into a run towards the rebel base, it would take him hours to reach it on foot.
---
“What?” Hazel knit her brow. There shouldn’t have been anyone there, unless one of William’s men decided to use it, and that was unlikely. It could only mean one thing. Autumn was coming back to the rebel camp. This brought both elation and anxiety. “Get here as soon as you can, I have a bad feeling about this. Hazel out.”
Hazel turned to William, having gone a bit pale, her lips set in a thin line. “Autumn is coming here. She must have escaped...”
William frowned. “Hazel,” he cautioned. “I don’t think she escaped willingly.”
“What do you mean?” She questioned, her voice a little higher pitched than normal.
“You’ve got to face the fact that she may have turned against us, Hazel.”
She searched his eyes, a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “No, she couldn’t. Not ever...” Her voice trailed off in a whisper.
William reached onto the table and retrieved a handgun and flipped it so that the handgrip was facing Hazel. “I suggest you hold on to this.”
Hazel opened and closed her mouth, then tentatively took the handgun and pressed a finger lightly against the safety, her shoulders slumping, finally coming to terms with this possible truth. “I don’t want to kill her.”
“You may not have to,” William shook his head. “I’m going to see that we double patrols.” He ducked out of the command tent to give the order.
Hazel began to shiver, not out of fear. She turned the handgun over and over in her hands as if she was studying it. “I can’t kill her, I won’t kill her. She can’t be against us, not against me, not after everything we went together,,” she mumbled to herself.
…
“Shit,” Autumn gritted her teeth in annoyance as orders spread across the camp to keep their eye out for intruders. They were on to her, she was sure of it. She closed her eyes for a moment, stringing soft curse words, and decided it was wisest to retreat and try again when everyone’s guard was down. Cowell had instructed her to kill the rebel leader, and though it was clear that time was of the essence, he did not say how soon. She retraced her steps towards the edge of the clearing and stepped out of sight into the tangle of green. There, she hunkered down and would wait it out until security again became lax.
…
Michael Cowell sat himself down in a comfortable executive chair inside the conference room at a very large oval table where others were taking their seats. An emergency meeting had been called by the governor of Utopia. Present were military commanders, government officials, and heads of government-backed corporations, such as MediCorps in Cowell’s case. This meeting was in reference not only to discuss the repercussions of the recent terrorist broadcast, as the city was now in lockdown after the riots, and to create a stratagem regarding retaliation against those rebel leaders responsible.
“The breach of security within the broadcast station is being addressed and is currently under investigation. We believe the perpetrator was not acting alone. Personnel with security clearance are being questioned. The point of entry was through a window in the broadcast station’s business offices, and there was a device recovered within the building that suggests the perpetrator used a rather unconventional route through an adjoining building. We are reviewing the files of each employed individual in order to narrow down possible sympathisers but this will take time. Video footage suggests that a Rogue operative, or a terrorist posing as a member of Team Rogue, brought the device into the building. Our security team was unable to apprehend the perpetrator before he managed to escape, but Rogue armor was recovered on the roof of a nearby building.
The armor is identified by an individual named Carter, a member of Team Rogue that has gone missing a week or so ago. This individual had a perfect service record, no known incidents of subordination, no negative mark whatsoever. No member of Team Rogue has willingly gone AWOL so this case is quite puzzling. His superiors are hesitant to volunteer more sensitive information regarding his case so we can only start with what we know.” The military officer who made this report took his seat.
“Cowell, what progress have you made in pinpointing the rebel base?” The governor turned his eyes on him.
Cowell cleared his throat. “Thus far results of questioning are inconclusive. Each rebel gives a different location so I can only assume that they move on from one place to another rather quickly to avoid detection. We are using their last known location as a basis to coordinate our search patterns, but the further we get from the city proper and the borders beyond the larger the grid radius becomes. We can only cover so much of the grid at a time, you see.”
“Hmm, I’d allow you more personnel to join the search but we do have our hands full as it is,” the governor splayed his hands helplessly. “Keeping the peace.”
“This morning there was a crowd in front of one our MediCorps facilities in protest, the amount in property damage is astounding.” A man said as he tapped his pen on a spreadsheet. “Stock prices are plunging. We’re losing thousands by the day.”
“We’ll go bankrupt if we allow the public to continue these tyrades.”
“Once we find the rebels, we’ll use them as an example,” one said hopefully.
“And do what, kill them and create more martyrs?”
“No, we need a confession, that everything they said was fabricated,” another said fervently.
“The rebel leader herself should do the trick.”
Michael Cowell frowned deeply. “The public would know it was forced. We need a different tactic.”
“And what, Mr. Cowell, suggest we do?” All eyes turned on him.
“We need to convince the public they can’t live without us and they will come crawling back, repentant, on their knees. We need to correct their thinking. It’s time we remind them just how much they need us.”
There were murmurs of agreement in the room.
“I see that ideas are already turning in your head, Michael,” the governor mused.
Cowell chuckled. “We’ve made breakthroughs in our pharmaceutical research. I can make use of these advancements to our advantage. The rebels have implanted a sickness into the public, we will simply have to find the cure.”
Curious glances were sent his way.
The governor grinned. “I think you have the right idea, Mr. Cowell. I will leave it to you then.” He stood up. “Gentlemen, coordinate with Mr. Cowell as per his instructions, I give him full access to any resources in the city that he may need. Michael, contact me when you have a game plan.”
“With pleasure, governor.”
…
After several hours had gone by, Carter arrived at the camp, looking only as if he had run a mile. Making his way quickly to the command tent he identified himself before entering, nodding to William as he did. “Any word on the stolen vehicle?” He had done a cursory examination of the camp’s perimeter before coming inside, having seen nothing. “If I may, I suggest we move the camp as soon as possible. If Knives didn’t already give it up to them, the missing vehicle may suggest they already know.”
---
William had nodded off at his workstation, the canvas pulled back to expose him. He snorted awake and slid off his stool, coming into the main tent, rubbing the sleep out of one eye. By then, dawn had come, and neither of them had much sleep that day. Hazel was stretched out on a cot, but she could not sleep for anything, and sat up with weapon still in hand at Carter’s entrance.
William shook his head. “No word, it is still missing.” He fought a yawn, giving his head a shake. “Move the entire camp? Impossible. There are just too many of us. Hazel is top priority, of course. She can’t stay here.”
Hazel snorted. “Neither can you, old man. Where I go you go.”
William chuckled.”Very well, we’ll move what we can and leave the rest behind. They’re pushing us further and further back, you know.”
“But there is progress, we have sympathisers in the city, your men have said as much, William.” Hazel said pointedly.
“Perhaps, but we need time to coordinate, and that can’t happen if they discover us...” he said thoughtfully. “Alright, it’s decided. We’ll break down camp and high tail it out of here. If the little missy is out and about I doubt she’s strike in broad daylight.”
Hazel winced. William shot her a level look. He turned his head and nodded to Carter. “Find her, soldier. Bring her back here one way or another.” His words were weighted, and Hazel was too miserable to notice the hidden meaning inside him. “Hazel, get some sleep. I’ll have Knives brought here as soon as she is found.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll sleep later.”
“William...” she began to protest. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck then resigned herself. “Very well, but wake me the minute she is found.”
…
Carter nodded to William and immediately set to work, heading to the armory. For VIPs he had always been instructed that alive was better than dead, and to that end he retrieved a stun rod and tranquilizer pistol. He holstered the pistol under his coat and held the rod folded against his SMG to hide its presence. It would be impossible to get the drop on her if he attempted to come the jungle looking for her, so he opted for a gamble. He dressed in some of the same colors that the other rebel guards wore and patrolled the perimeter, keeping his hood drawn to hide his features - attempting to appear as just another slightly oblivious guard, a tempting target for Knives. He’d have to draw her in close to incapacitate her.
---
Autumn had settled herself into a huge, gnarled tree. It’s branches were thick with leaves, the berries that hung from the tips of the branches were blood red and very poisonous. No bird perched here but for a moment. The forest was alive with noise, the animals strange and savage. She would be safe in its branches. She had seated herself on a thick branch, her back against the tree trunk, her legs stretched out, knees slightly bent, so that she may be comfortable. Vines and moss grew thickly here and she was well masked from sight. She was patient and silent, her vantage point allowing her to look over the field, some hundred yards from the closest tent.
Patrols had not ventured this close to the forest line. She moved her legs to straddle the branches and leaned forward for a closer look when she saw movement, her hand drawing back some of the foliage. It looked to be a rebel, and it was curious that a hood was drawn to hide his face. She would have thought that a guard, on the alert for her presence, would narrow his peripheral vision in such a manner. Not that it hindered her in the least, in fact it was in her benefit.
If she were to fire upon the patrol to kill him, she would give her position away with the noise of gunfire, and she had no silencer on which to quiet her weapon. She raised her body and balanced herself on the branch, feet planted firmly, and drew one of her knives from its sheath. She balanced the blade between two fingers, aimed for the patrol man, and threw it deftly. The blade flipped through the air in order to bury itself into his flesh.
…
Carter paused for a moment as he heard a rustle in the forest behind him. He heard the singing of the blade as it sailed toward him and he stepped aside at the last second, the blade grazing his arm and cutting a small hole in his coat. He glanced down at the knife buried in the dirt and traced the trajectory. Looking up into the trees he didn’t immediately see her, walking a bit closer to the treeline to have a better look, still acting a little oblivious.
---
Moving closer provided a better target, and she released a second knife almost immediately. She quickly scrambled down the tree as quietly as she could, and as she thudded softly to the ground Autumn darted to the side and removed her handgun from its holster. Before he got a fix on her position, she decided it was necessary to fire, even though the noise would give her away. She cocked back the safety and fired two quick shots through the brush then turned and ran along the treeline as fast as her legs would carry her, not bothering to see if the man was felled.
…
Carter dove behind a tree as soon as he heard the shots, the first whizzing past his head and the second grazing his shoulder. He heard the rustle as she started running through the treeline, and he darted after her, trying to get a clear shot with his tranquilizer. As he started to gain slightly he reached to his belt and hurled a flashbang towards her, hoping to stun her long enough to put her down.
---
The flashbang exploding caused a ringing in her ears and she automatically closed her eyes against the bright light. When she opened them, starts were in her eyes and momentarily she couldn’t see where she was going. But survival told her to keep moving and thus she did, though her wobbly vision didn’t quite catch the tree in time. The truck clipped her shoulder and she lost her balance, her hand moving to catch her fall as she stumbled. She spun around and raised her gun intending to fire again at her pursuer, cornered like a caged animal as the hairs on the back of her neck bristled instinctively.
…
As she began firing he ducked behind a tree quickly, lowering his head as a few bullets sent splinters flying. He peeked out and fired a quick shot with this tranquilizer at her abdomen, ducking back to cover. He kept his hand against the trunk of the tree, ready to give chase if it had missed. He glanced over towards the camp and saw a few more rebel guards closing in having heard the gunshots, Carter silently waving his hand to get them to stay back. In this state, Autumn could easily kill them, and those would be wasted lives.
---
The tranquilizer shot pinged off of the ops armor she was wearing. Her shoulder was radiating with hot pain where she had clipped the tree, the armor there scratched up and lightly dented. As she had spun around ready to fire, she moved the gun’s barrel back and forth, trying to locate her pursuer, who had ducked behind a tree. A few moments passed. She cursed and began to run again, hopping over tree roots that may trip her, ducking under low branches. Bristles and clawing branches scraped over her armor harmlessly. She was making for deeper in the woods ever since she had heard more voices. It would be suicide to follow her, but she was keen on avoiding her pursuer.
She knew that the rebels would move camp, was likely involved in its progress. Her only option was to follow in secret until she had a clear shot of Hazel and she would not divert from that mission unless she was dead. The fact that she was being chased did not rise panic in her, rather annoyance in the fact that this rebel had deterred her from her prize. She needed to shake him and lose him for good, and had no reservations about killing him. Her eyes wavered above her at a large gnarled oak tree, and she used her momentum to spring up and grab a thick branch with her hands and pull herself up deadweight with a grunt. She got a hold of a higher branch and was able to climb up into the thick of it. This is how one evaded dogs. And he was no more than a dog. She planted her feet and held her handgun at the ready to fire at him when he revealed himself.
The rogue patrol, three in all, saw Carter wave and hesitated their pursuit. The senior of them motioned to another and told him to report to William that the intruder had been located, who turned and jogged back to seek him out.
William chose not to disturb Hazel as she slept but ordered two guards to go to the command tent to keep guard, in case the assassin came that way. Hazel was to be protected at all costs.
They were to shoot the intruder on sight without hesitation. Even if Hazel thought Autumn was worth saving, she had clearly turned against them, and would not hesitate to murder them in their beds. The bodies that had been unfortunate to cross Autumn’s path were recovered, a testament to this fact.
The disassemblage of the rebel camp would go on as planned, and their efforts required speed and efficiency, and William hoped that Autumn would either be killed or detained by the time they were ready to move out. He was bleary eyed with fatigue but worked through it.
…
Carter quickly pursued her, moving cover to cover to avoid her fire. As she vaulted up the tree he dove behind a rock, peeking over the edge to gauge her position. Quickly ducking back down he reached to his belt and retrieved a small sphere, lifting it up he pressed an indentation. It started beeping as he winded up and hurled it up towards the branches. After a few moments it gave off a small explosion and expanded into a ten foot net, flying towards Autumn. He was beginning to run out of tools, he knew Hazel would consider him a failure if it came to killing her, and he began to weigh the outcome of this pursuit.
------
The tranquilizer shot pinged off of the ops armor she was wearing. Her shoulder was radiating with hot pain where she had clipped the tree, the armor there scratched up and lightly dented. As she had spun around ready to fire, she moved the gun’s barrel back and forth, trying to locate her pursuer, who had ducked behind a tree. A few moments passed. She cursed and began to run again, hopping over tree roots that may trip her, ducking under low branches. Bristles and clawing branches scraped over her armor harmlessly. She was making for deeper in the woods ever since she had heard more voices. It would be suicide to follow her, but she was keen on avoiding her pursuer.
She knew that the rebels would move camp, was likely involved in its progress. Her only option was to follow in secret until she had a clear shot of Hazel and she would not divert from that mission unless she was dead. The fact that she was being chased did not rise panic in her, rather annoyance in the fact that this rebel had deterred her from her prize. She needed to shake him and lose him for good, and had no reservations about killing him. Her eyes wavered above her at a large gnarled oak tree, and she used her momentum to spring up and grab a thick branch with her hands and pull herself up deadweight with a grunt. She got a hold of a higher branch and was able to climb up into the thick of it. This is how one evaded dogs. And he was no more than a dog. She planted her feet and held her handgun at the ready to fire at him when he revealed himself.
The rogue patrol, three in all, saw Carter wave and hesitated their pursuit. The senior of them motioned to another and told him to report to William that the intruder had been located, who turned and jogged back to seek him out.
William chose not to disturb Hazel as she slept but ordered two guards to go to the command tent to keep guard, in case the assassin came that way. Hazel was to be protected at all costs.
They were to shoot the intruder on sight without hesitation. Even if Hazel thought Autumn was worth saving, she had clearly turned against them, and would not hesitate to murder them in their beds. The bodies that had been unfortunate to cross Autumn’s path were recovered, a testament to this fact.
The disassemblage of the rebel camp would go on as planned, and their efforts required speed and efficiency, and William hoped that Autumn would either be killed or detained by the time they were ready to move out. He was bleary eyed with fatigue but worked through it.
…
Carter quickly pursued her, moving cover to cover to avoid her fire. As she vaulted up the tree he dove behind a rock, peeking over the edge to gauge her position. Quickly ducking back down he reached to his belt and retrieved a small sphere, lifting it up he pressed an indentation. It started beeping as he winded up and hurled it up towards the branches. After a few moments it gave off a small explosion and expanded into a ten foot net, flying towards Autumn. He was beginning to run out of tools, he knew Hazel would consider him a failure if it came to killing her, and he began to weigh the outcome of this pursuit.
It started with the best of intentions. Humankind had outlived the Earth. When the crude oil had been completely tapped out the inhabitants of Earth were forced to turn to solar power to fuel their technologies. But years of pollutants had dimmed the sunlight, and in time one of mankind's fears came to pass. Inevitably, the polar ice caps melted at an increasing rate and Earth's land masses began to shrink as ocean and sea encroached upon the land continents. Land became more precious and the world's population had multiplied as it did when advancements in medicine allowed for longer life spans, fewer bouts of illness, and the death rate had decreased, much to mankind's delusions of success. There were just too many people to contend for the shrinking resources that were required for survival. Further rationing was necessary as the population crowded toward one another and the death rate began to rise as starvation became a real threat. It was just a matter of time before the fighting began as one civilization or another wrestled for prime purchase. In an attempt to solve the problem of a shrinking amount of food, the greatest technological minds set to work, with assistance the the United Space Program, to create what the common people fondly coined as "Garden Snowglobes'' in space, as years of research had already been compiled thanks to the United States's past efforts to grow plants in, initially, space shuttles. This knowledge combined with technological breakthroughs, self-sufficient gardens were placed above the Earth's atmosphere, huge greenhouses that used the Sun's undimmed light from its vantage point to supplement what Earth no longer could produce.
Then the Earth's core began to cool. Just as the oceans had lapped up onto the land the cold began to slowly freeze the expanse of water and in many places the Earth began to turn to arctic conditions. The world was not completely prepared for such conditions and even more of the population began to die out. Man had outlived the Earth, had worn the planet to ruin. Humankind had no choice but to put aside their differences in what was termed "For the Common Good." Mankind needed to find a new home, and very soon. With the minds of geniuses, funding from the wealthy, and using what advancements from close to a century of research and technology had been fruitful, hope returned to humanity as an answer to their problems bloomed into existence.
It was the "Snowglobes" that hatched this idea. If these gardens in space could be created, why not create an entire world, a new planet? Once people latched on to this idea a fervor rocketed through the world's populace as every single soul had realized that time was running out. The nuclear bombs that had been at the ready by frenzied warmongers whose desperation was dimming all logic were seized and modified. Years of study by the Space Program, under guidance by the greatest minds in Astronomy, had deduced that a planet may be created by the principle of planetary condensation, the principle that had given birth to man's own solar system. Getting the formula down was no easy task and after failure upon failure a miniature planet was successfully created within the solar system, a planet about the size of the moon but just as dead and cold. It was thought that nuclear fusion's assistance may warm the core of a larger planet and provide a suitable habitat for life. So man reached out to distant space, further and further from his own solar system to find a distant star, beyond the reach of Pluto and various planetoids, as the dead cold of space gave way to a warm crucible of possibilities.
Thus, a new planet was birthed with humankind's best efforts and rekindled hope. Now all there was to do was wait for this accelerated planet to reach its prime for human colonization. And in the meantime, civilization came back together to unite into a federation, an expansion of the classic concept of the United Nations. Then crept in the question on who would be the first to populate this new world. Initial decisions were easy to make. The world's most brilliant minds, for one. More were chosen for their knowledge of skills deemed necessary for colonization, such as architects, mechanics, doctors and so on.
Then hatched the idea of a superior class of colonists and genetic research flared as man began to fine tune itself for worthy subjects. Genetics of human DNA were altered. Mutations were bred out of the new generations, each in succession, until some may coin the "ideal human" was created. Further efforts, with what remained of the economy that had not been exhausted, moved into making spacecraft, cargo ships, passenger transport, fitted with the world's most advanced technologies. Bit by bit humankind prepared for the exodus of man to this new world. The "extra seats" left over after careful selection of who was most worthy to colonize were snapped up by the wealthy and influential. Those that would be left behind would be giving the ultimate sacrifice. It was inevitable, there was only so much room on the transports, and the cargo ships bursted with what was needed for the exodus across space. Of course the finest breeds of those animals, both domesticated and wild, would be transported along with humans and a cache of seeds carefully preserved, so that mankind may have the means to feed itself. Something of a “Noah's Arc,” as some may call it.
Then the waiting was over. The chosen left their loved ones behind and filed onto the transports. When hatches and doors were closed, panic began to spread among those that were to be left behind. Bodies surged forward, hands clawing at the edges of the sealed doors, as the populace came to the realization that their time on earth, their very lives, inevitably would extinguish. Solar panels flexed into position as the fleet began to take off from Earth's surface, and there were those extinguished by the expelling heat and energy, crowding the landing pads as they wailed their misery.
As passage through space towards the new Terra commenced and as time passed as it would when traveling the expanse of the known galaxy, knowledge was passed on to a new generation as valuable information would not dare be lost. The young practiced with equipment as they were schooled in the sciences, medicine, the fine arts, technology and agriculture. However, there were those that faded into oblivion before given the chance to grow, in fear that their inferior genetic stock would jeopardize the efforts of so many years in creating the perfect human. "For the Good of Mankind" was a phrase that morphed into common law. Mothers and fathers were fearful of alienation from society when genetic defects or mutations were apparent at birth and would quietly destroy these "birthed abominations" mercifully because, within the enclosed confines of those vessels whose walls were thick to keep out the death of cold space, there were those zealots of this common law that believed in it so much that they would be less merciful in annihilating anyone or anything that threatened this law. So births were uncelebrated, quiet, and private.
Those young in generation became the new leaders of this selected society, learned in the harsh realities of life, bursting with knowledge of both the mind and technology and were now called Generation Zero in the hope that from this new breed of "super humans'' would seed the way for a utopia, a new Earth, Terra, that the mistakes of mankind would not be re-lived. It was a second chance and a new beginning.
Utopia was built, the ultimate heart of civilization, the first city, what was meant to be the ideal society. Only the best of everything provided the building blocks for this sprawling, but confined, expanse. Just as the "Snowglobe gardens" were confined to retain its purity, mutations of winnowed, genetically altered super plants allowed them to thrive, so was Utopia. A shiny sheen encased this perfect city, an orb of protection against the harsh wild beyond.
But not every mind was suited for life in Utopia, not every soul "divine," not every thought peaceful. WIth the human good comes the human bad, and those unfit for society, murderers, criminals, and society's misfits were transported into a new populace: A high security prison within its own protective bubble, to keep threats in instead of keeping threats out. This prison was connected to Utopia by underground tunnels, carefully patrolled and policed. Humans were transported in and never out. Those condemned to prison would live out their miserable lives within its confines. And ever outward was the wild, barely hospitable conditions where mutations were purged from utopia, both animal and human. The natural plant life that had grown outside the gleaming city, which was winnowed out of gardens and crops, was harsh and unforgiving, poisonous and brutal.
A new generation was born, and with youth comes rebellious natures and an attitude to break the rules. Teenagers ran away from home as they may do to spite their parents, and laws were bent and broken. Gangs and packs of degenerates began to creep in the outskirts of Utopia, and these were inevitably either thrown into prison or forced out of Utopia, either by choice or by alienation. This generation became sharp in mind and clever with their hands, stealing technologies, hacking, scavenging, creating a no man's land which "perfect humans" were loath to dwell. This generation broke up into clans and spread out to claim their own stomping grounds. There would be territorial quarrels and one clan may steal from one another to gain that edge. It seemed that the worst in humans, what those in Utopia had tried to avoid, had inevitably risen once again. These rebels, these misfits, those even living as exiled mutations, which made up their own packs, these hackers and scavengers thrived outside the shining city.
Getting to know the wild, its horrors and its blessings, the strange plant life and animals that lived there, benefited these misfit humans in more ways than one. Poisons were concocted, new drugs, terrible and frightening breeds of beasts. And with new drugs come addicts, with poisons come new and mysterious ways of assassination between powers, and with the savage mutated beasts came dangerous and frightening power that was harnessed by the undesirables to bully their way into what they wanted of that more "perfect" society that were loathe to share what they had due to inherent prejudices.
A black market began to spring up around the confines of Utopia. Any trading between the two societies was kept under wraps, quietly carried out for fear of being found out. Not that the rebels cared either way, it was the citizens of Utopia that had something to fear. They did not want to be cast out as well, were unprepared for the wild, were too comfortable with their advantages to be alienated from society. But any dealings that crept into the city itself were quickly extinguished under the foot of the law, those terrible peacekeepers trained and maintained by Utopian society, those corrupt lawmakers who thought only of their own powers and agendas.
And here humanity stands, divided, flawed and imperfect. Societies were grouped in finite categories. The "perfect man" diluted with the ideals of what "For the Good of Mankind." Or they may be a society of the criminals, including the criminally insane, in eternal struggle to escape by means of the policed tunnels back into Utopia. Or the horrors of mutations, those unspeakable beings more beast than man, who band together out of the sheer instinct of survival. And lastly, those struggling to survive, those rebel youths, where the restless clans war among each other like tribes of lost children, caught up in their own pride and lawlessness, trapped within something like a ring, huddled close to the Utopia upon whose resources they ultimately depend, and confined by the threat of the mutations prowling on the outskirts.
They live in ramshackle houses, built from the scavenging of that discarded from utopia, or those won on the black market. The clans make use of weapons slapped together, technological enough to burn or blast its way through the wielder's enemies, or crude and blunt, for which those unfortunate who have no other choice. Hackers make use of technologies deemed too ancient or inferior for the attention of anyone other than themselves. Then there are the beastmasters who keep frothing, quite close to rabid creatures under their thumb to get what they want, just the same as nuclear weapons once were used on old Earth..
The rest begin to make pacts with criminals, who themselves are desperate to leave the prison, or those insane enough for revenge on a society that has treated them so cruelly, and come to agreements, arrangements, alliances. The peacekeepers begin to find themselves driven back, rebel allied with criminal, in a combined effort to take down Utopia for all the perversion it had become. And with that a hostile takeover of Utopia was unleashed, and quite literally, all hell broke loose. The shining city became pockmarked, marred, a scarred face of what it had once been. No man's land had taken over central Terra and Utopia as it was was no more. The city was unprepared for the horrors of reality and after the rebels took out the peacekeepers and deposed the rulers of the once "perfect society," lawlessness abound for a time. The population was under the thumb of one warmonger or another, one brilliant criminal mind for another devious, silver tongued politician.
This is reality, this is war, this is the present. Kill or be killed, be strong and stand or flee into the wilderness. Generation One has begun.
~
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Name: Carter - Callsign “Dagger”
Age: 29
Born in Utopia, grown along with a handful of others in a lab, Carter was created along with his fellow teammates to be an efficient and deadly combat team within the police force. Part of the Special Operations Group, team Rogue as they were called, handled special assignments from the administrators themselves. As with most of the police, they were brought up in specific conditions, brainwashed to accept what they were told, and medically enhanced to do more than any normal soldier. Team Rogue was an experiment, specialized training that made normal lawkeepers look like children. Bred only for combat, their only goal in life was to die on any number of suicidal missions. Carter’s comrades on the team had turned out just as the government had hoped, but they’d missed something with Carter. At some point his conditioning broke, and no one noticed. He realized what they were trying to do, and simply faked it. He still was a loyal soldier, it was the only thing he had ever known - but he was human, capable of reason, and he didn’t trust anything more than his instincts. A deadly assassin, he had killed dozens of rebel leaders and VIPs with his specialty - the sniper rifle. Together with his genetic siblings, Team Rogue is an unstoppable force with not a single failed mission and no casualties that will not stop until the insurgents give up their struggle, or death comes for them.
-
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Name: Autumn
Nickname:“Knives”
Autumn was born in a crucible of chaos . Her mother was only a young girl when she ran away from home at eighteen due to her rebellious nature and joined the budding cause of those arrogant enough, being in their youthful ways, to challenge any figure of authority. She was romanticized by what the rebels could provide for her, an absence of the more conservative laws of Utopia of which she did not understand . She had not been a personal witness to which her forebears had suffered, the reasoning behind the laws which they so loyally enforced. Autumn’s mother selfishly wanted to live her own life, not knowing the implications that her decisions might mean. Her parents stopped looking for her after a time after she had run away, and it was not long before she missed the comforts of home. But her youthful pride and shame kept her from going back to Utopia. Virtually unprotected by a guardian she fell into the wrong sort of crowd and when the convicts started to surface she was defenseless. The streets she walked down amongst the ramshackle structures that were little more than beaten trails than streets provided little safety. Then he came into her life. A silver-tongued convict, attractive in both body and mind, for he fed her honeyed words. It was a tenuous relationship, and a union between them and Autumn was conceived. But just as quickly as their relationship started, it ended, and Autumn's mother was left alone to suffer the realities of what it meant to be completely and utterly on one’s own.
Poverty and sickness plagued the young mother until there was barely anything left to care for young Autumn. When she died, Autumn buried her mother by herself with no one to mourn with her. But unlike her helpless mother, Autumn had become resourceful, being left to her own means as her mother started to fade away. A stronger breed than her gentle mother, Autumn thrived in her meager surroundings and snapped up whatever advantages came into being, learning how to fight to defend herself, learned what trades she could from those willing to teach her, but all at a price.
She had a sharp mind and did not rally to a cause unless she deemed it worthy. Once such cause was the discontent that the rebels were living in such conditions as they were. Those like minded as she began to join together in a patched rebellion that began to strike out at Utopia, already weakening from countless terrorist attacks and the seeping corruption that the dissents, convicts, and crooked politicians could provide.
The peacekeepers, the police force, came out in angry droves, those soldiers brainwashed to give no quarter when it came to Utopia’s best interests, those of the government which attained their footholds in this city of unrest. She began to hate them, and would strike out against them with a zealous ferocity along with her newfound sisters and brothers of the cause. They would come in and out of the shadows, striking at any opportunity against those that would oppose them. They were not foolish, those rebels to which she was aligned, and did much damage, even if it turned to terrorist attacks. Citizens were spared unless they took up arms against them. Their goal, to bring down, in their eyes, the corrupted government, usurping those seats of power so that their own interests could be realized
.…
Crossfire ricocheted against ruined buildings as the rebels came across a force of Special Ops, their target having been a government building to which to terrorize. The rebels carried crude but effective bombs and wielded weapons both put together by their own resources and those seized from the forces which they extinguished. Her brother-in-arms, a friend she called Ratchet, hefted a rocket launcher as he pressed against a structure for protection. Ratchet nodded to her and they silently counted to three. “Knives,” as she liked to be called, started in on support fire to draw the eyes of the Ops away as Ratchet aimed and fired the rocket launcher at a Special Ops group. The missile exploded and a spray of seared flesh and shattered bone rained down where half a dozen Ops agents had previously been positioned. WIth the momentary stall for the Ops to regroup, the rebels opened fire in a brief free for all, thinning the numbers in what time they had. But her own sisters and brothers fell prey to the crossfire, and some who were close to death darted in with bombs and ran as fast and far as they could before the bombs detonated where their lifeless bodies fell to the ground amidst shrapnel and empty bullet casings, rubble and broken glass.
…
Team Rogue sat in the hills overlooking the battle, laying prone underneath perfect camouflage. The team leader slowly scoped out the field through a pair of binoculars as Carter looked on through his scope. He slowly looked over each of the rebels, practicing positioning his crosshair over them for a perfect shot. “Possible ID,” His team leader’s voice came over the comm, “8 o’clock, ruined building, southwest corner.” Carter slowly moved his scope down and spotted the two individuals, one of them cradling a rocket launcher, the other spraying covering fire around the corner. A few moments passed as Carter placed his crosshair over the female. “Go on target?” Carter questioned through the comm.
A few moments passed with no answer and Carter wrapped his finger carefully around the trigger.
“Scratch it, that’s not her,” was the crackling reply.
Carter lowered his gun and flicked the safety back on. They were targeting rebel leaders, in this case a certain woman that had rallied this particular attack. It was the latest mission in an operation known only to them as Operation Guillotine. Carter’s team lead came back, “We’re moving into the valley, stay quiet, return fire only.” The ten of them slowly stood as Carter slung his rifle and pulled out his handgun. The team leader signaled and they all began slowly descending a narrow path into the valley below, behind the rebels, and into the battle proper.
As they approached the ruined town at the foot of the hills, Carter knew his role. He split from the group and chose the nearest tall building. Gunfire crackled through the air as Carter stepped foot into the ruined office building, making his way up the crumbling stairs to a good vantage point. He passed a few civilians, ignoring them as they cowered away from him. He reached the seventh floor and pressed against the wall next to the door of his chosen nest. With his pistol in one hand he slowly opened the door, clearing the room before making his way to the window. He kneeled down and carefully pulled out his rifle, setting it snugly on the window sill. Through the scope he saw the rebel mob moving forward, as the rest of his team crept up behind, moving cover to cover. He would provide overwatch, and he was in a perfect position to eliminate any target if it was called.
---
In their bravado and boldness, the rebel fighter squad hadn’t expected any attack from behind, especially from the infamous Team Rogue, so adept at stealth that not many of their kind were left to report the incidents to rebel leaders. After eliminating several choice targets of the ground Ops team, the rebel leader, Hazel, surrounded by bodyguards to help hide her position motioned combat signals to her troop and indicated that,as they split into predetermined teams, that they should separate into three and go ahead with the mission they had set out to do. The drone police force was an expected, albeit annoying wrench in the works. Hazel and her bodyguards moved as one, flanked by the three rebel teams, which each moved to their designated positions, namely, the available entrances into the government building that would gain them access, rather than surging as one body into the main entrance.
Knives and Ratchet were part of team three, which would take a much longer route towards their assigned point of entry. But Autumn hissed a warning to the others, a feeling prickling at the back of her neck, a paranoia that their movements were being watched. She put a finger to her lips and pointed behind her at the high building that overlooked the street on which they were maneuvering. She had a feeling that sent little shivers down her spine. The rest of the team made ready to defend themselves if a threat did indeed surface. Autumn pressed herself against concealment and scanned the buildings, squinting her eyes to try to catch some semblance of movement. Ratchet’s muscles flexed as he hefted the rocket launcher onto his shoulder, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Then, all around them, gunfire began to erupt as Team Rogue found their targets at last. Being distant enough from the rest of the rebel troop, and on their own, they had not yet been discovered. It was obvious that their mission was about to fail, much to the vexation of Hazel, as a month of planning had gone down the drain. Autumn was not sure to keep up the fight or not. Help her dying brothers and sisters, or return to the rendezvous point? But withdrawing was out of the question, for Ops had been looking for their nest for quite some time and she wasn’t about to lead them right to its front door. So team three scattered quietly and would wait until the chaos was over before returning to their base.
Autumn and Ratchet, both fuming with frustration, doubled back towards the tall building overlooking the street, that same building so suspicious that Autumn still prickled with instinctive signs of warning. But it was also a good cover. However if a member or two of Ops was found out, Autumn would be more than happy to get a taste of revenge for their failure. When they reached the building after a sprint, Autumn bristled and spat when they were out of sight, ducking into an abandoned apartment.
“Government pigs. I can’t believe we failed!” She threw up her hands. “All our planning, ruined by those... those dogs!”
“Watch it, Knives. Don’t let it get you down. This is just a minor setback. After all, we did take quite a few of those soldiers down. Less of them to worry about now.”
“But they can be replaced!” She plunked down on a dusty couch in the apartment they had taken cover in. “Ratchet, that’s the problem. We, on the other hand, can not. We’re a dying breed, you and I. We have to win this!”
Ratchet frowned. “We all knew this would not be easy, Knives. We’re trying to overthrow the government. What do you expect to happen?” Ratchet reached out with a heavily gloved hand and placed it on her shoulder “You’re young yet, Autumn,” he said her name softly. “We are making progress, even if it isn’t as quickly as you want it to.”
Autumn let out a sigh and silence settled between them. Her head jerked towards the door when she heard distant but audible shrieks above them.
“Get away, we don’t want you here! You peacekeepers are nothing but trouble, no matter what the governor says. You’re just as responsible for the destroyed city as they are, what with your fighting and bombing... get out of here!”
Ratchet and Autumn shot to their feet. So she had been right, there were Ops here. She looked at Ratchet who shot her a grin.
“Come on, let's roast us some pigs!” Ratchet raised a clenched fist, primed and ready to go, itching to take even more of them down.
…....
After picking off several stray rebels that wandered too close to Rogue’s approach, Carter saw the team reach their target destination. He pulled his rifle back from the window and folded it down, slinging it on his back once again. He heard the civvies yelling as well, and carefully crept over to the door, standing slightly behind it as he peered carefully down the hallway. Carter spotted Autumn and Ratchet as they slowly crept up the stairs, going room by room as they searched for something to kill. “This is Dagger, I’ve been compromised. Hostiles are in the building.”
His team leader came back, “Roger, we have to pull back, good luck Dagger.”
The response didn’t shock him, every one of them was expendable if it meant a mission success. As Autumn and Ratchet approached his room he was in, Carter quietly wrapped his hand around the doorknob and waited for them to enter.
He could hear the two whispering between themselves as they edged into the room, his helmet’s computer detailing their loadouts. The rocket launcher would be a problem. He saw Autumn turn left to check the corner, and it was the perfect time to strike. Throwing the door forward it slammed into Ratchet, shattering to splinters and throwing him to the ground. He raised his pistol and pointed it at Autumn’s back, but the round jammed. Carter wound up and threw his pistol at Ratchet as he started to stand up. The pistol ricocheted off his head, causing him to stumble forward and off balance.
Carter surged forward towards Autumn as she started to whip around, spraying bullets wildly from her SMG. A few lodged into his chest plate as the rest bounced off his armor. He struck his palm forward into Autumn’s chest, throwing her across the room. As he turned back to Ratchet, the rebel had his rocket launcher pointed right at him. “Take this, you bastard.” Carter could sense the trigger snapping as he hastily pulled his rifle around just as the rocket left the barrel. He blindly fired a shot towards Ratchet as the rocket sailed past him and hit the wall, throwing him forward and showering the room with debris. Carter’s body slid across the floor and landed against the wall, unconscious from the force of the blast.
---
Autumn grunted as she jerked to her feet, rubble sliding off her body that had dislodged as the rocket had blasted a crater into the apartment wall… well what was left of it in any case. The blast had blown out all of the windows. Some of the drapes had even caught fire. There were shrieks as the apartment's fire alarm resounded and automatic fire extinguishers in the ceiling came on, spraying everything with water so the entire complex wouldn’t burn down. She was dazed, the blast having set off a ringing in her ears and her eyes sparkled with stars as she was momentarily disoriented. Her SMG had slid down the hallway, having been knocked from her hands.Water would not ruin it, however, as the shell was waterproof. It was a fine peacekeepers prize weapon she had confiscated off one of her kills. She pulled out two cruel looking blades from the sheaths behind her back as she tried to regain her bearings. The ringing in her ears and the stars eventually faded and she realized her situation. Somewhere near her she could hear grunting and shuffling as Ratchet found his footing again, an ugly wound streaming blood from where he was shot in the chest. He ripped off his dirty tank top and balled it up, pressing it against the bullet wound to try and staunch the bleeding. The Rogue was unconscious, the threat temporarily averted though it may not be long before the soldier woke up. She ran her eyes over him a moment and looked at her friend.
“Ratchet, did it hit anything vital?”
Ratchet hawked up a mass of blood and spat it on the floor. He wavered on his feet, an alarming sign for one who was as big as he. His breathing was forced and ragged and he gave a nod of assent. Clearly, it had punctured a lung. And she had no med kit with her. Their mission had been victory or death. And it didn’t look good for him
“Lung,” he wheezed, pressing his hand against the wall for balance. “Better get him restrained,” he nodded towards the fallen soldier. “Not much time...”
He pulled off his belt and walked rather shakily towards the Rogue and kicked him so that he rolled onto his belly. He took quick work to bind his wrists, jerking the belt shut so that it held tightly. He lost his balance as he bent down and a knee hit the floor hard.
“Come on kid,” he said after spatting more blood. “I’ve still got some use in me.” He pulled the soldier up and threw him over his shoulder no easy feat, but as he said time was running out... for him.
Autumn lurched forward and scooped up the weapons, taking the enemy rifle and slinging it over her shoulder, looping the empty rocket launcher over the older shoulder so they criss crossed and put her gun back in its holster and knives sheathed.
“Ready,” she nodded to Ratchet who barreled forward as fast as his legs could take him, using the momentum of his body and brute strength to descend down into the street. How did he do it? Autumn wondered. She felt a jolt of despair as her best friend was practically bleeding to death and suffocating, especially as the weight he carried only added to injury as it pressed down on the collapsed lung.
Somehow he made it back to base. With the last bit of strength left he hauled the Rogue and unshouldered him so that the unconscious body hit the ground with a thud. He didn’t care if it hurt the Rogue. He hadn’t the strength to stand any longer and fell to a seated position.
“Someone... help!” Autumn screamed. “Ratchet, he’s dying!”
Rebel medics moved into swift action and did what they could for him. Autumn paced back and forth, shooting glares of hate towards the Rogue, who was now bound against a post so tightly he would only just be able to breathe.
…...
Carters eyes slowly opened as his helmet’s overlay rebooted. Gazing forward he saw the medics huddled over Ratchet. He craned his head back and forth, trying to identify his surroundings. He attempted to move his arms, finding them restrained. He laughed a little bit as he felt the ropes, if he tried he could easily break them, but doing that now would just get him killed. They were tied well though, he could feel them pressing his chest plate against him, straining his breathing. He just stayed silent, glancing over at Autumn as she paced back and forth. He looked at Ratchet as his computer marked his vitals, his signs were precarious. If he died it wouldn’t bring Carter joy or sorrow, he was simply following directives. Most U-SEC officers were given orders to self-terminate upon capture, but Rogue wasn’t given that order. Their training in resisting torture had been so extreme that the government wasn’t even concerned they could possibly reveal information. Carter’s mind drifted to the rest of his team, there was a small chance command would approve a rescue op, but Carter didn’t count on it. Dying right here, right now, wouldn’t bother him at all - he was detached.
---
It didn’t look good for Ratchet. He was too pale, a sheen of sweat beading on his brow. Autumn couldn’t do anything for him, and the last thing Ratchet wanted was to be mothered. His next of kin was already being summoned. Autumn was glad he had loved ones left to ease his passing. Autumn herself, had no one but herself. That is why she was so attached to Ratchet, he was like a brother or even somewhat of a father figure, ten years her senior. He was everything she wanted to be. Strong, brave, and sharp of mind. He had taught her everything he knew. Her own knives were a birthday present on her eighteenth birthday, knives that once belonged to Ratchet himself. “Keep them sharp, Autumn. They’ll serve you well just as they did for me...” She would lose a great part of herself if Ratchet did end up dying. The thought already carved a painful hole in her heart and tears came to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, turning her head so Ratchet could not see her distress.
Hazel made an appearance as well. As always, she was able to slip her way out of capture one way or another. Her bodyguards were zealous men and women who believed in the cause so much that they were willing to lay down their lives so that their leader may live.
Hazel had a natural gift for rallying rebels to the cause. She was enigmatic, skilled with words that would rouse any downtrodden heart. She was the daughter of one of Utopia’s most successful politicians, a bloodline to which she was loathe to share. She did not agree with Utopia’s ways, hated the government for its genocide and secret experiments, hated citizens all the more from allowing these monstrosities, these great sins against humanity, to continue.
All “For the Good of Mankind? “
No, it was a self-serving set of laws maintained by choice individuals diluted enough to think they were like gods. Secret government experiments, those involving genetic manipulation to create the perfect man to which they utilized, to keep themselves almost immortal in their lifespans, to create a viral weapon that was useless against their own bodies but deadly to mutations and to many of the rebels that were born naturally, as Autumn was, not born of prime genetic stock. None born inside Utopia were natural at all.
Autumn looked over at the soldier, and seeing him awake only agitated her all the more. Here he was alive and healthy and Ratchet was all but slipping away. She turned on her heel and stomped towards the bound soldier and stood before him, hands on her hips, her breathing quick, nostrils flaring in rage. “God damn pig, you probably don’t even have a soul. You don’t care about anyone’s lives, the struggle we go through every day here in hell, while you capitol dogs roll in champagne and caviar.” Well, not him, but he was a tool of the government. She didn’t know if he had been hurt by her bullets under that armor and it was likely than he had not.
“You’re probably some kind of freaky mutant. You're not human, not the way you Rogues are.” To tell the truth, she never looked at their faces after they had been killed. They would just move on to the next target. “You’re way too fast to be human.” She mumbled those last few words with slight mysticism. Suddenly she lunged forward, placed her hands on both sides of his helmet and jerked it off his head. She wanted to look into the eyes of Ratchet’s murderer. Because, it was likely, Ratchet wouldn’t live after losing that much blood, the blood he had spilt carrying the Rogue rather than killing him on the spot.
…
The helmet resisted, but then snapped loose, releasing a hiss. His hair was short, black, and buzz-cut. His eyes were dark blue and glowed with a soft light, some errant mutation caused by augmentation and radiation treatment. Small grooves were cut all along his face, down his forehead, across his cheeks. They extended all over his body, his body was cut to perfectly fit his armor and the grooves were part of a digital lining that allowed interface between his body and suit systems. A tiny red light began flashing on his armor’s neckline, the suit maintained an atmosphere of highly enriched oxygen that enhanced the soldiers’ abilities, and Autumn had broken the seal.
He just stared forward at Autumn, watching as she unleashed her emotions.
---
She narrowed her eyes a little as she watched the blinking light. She heard shifting behind her as Hazel approached and paused at her shoulder. Hazel crossed her arms. “Yeah, kinda creepy aren’t they?” Autumn looked at her. Her curiosity peeked, she looked back down at the Rogue. “Why are his eyes like that, and what’s with those wierd grooves?”
“His eyes glow because he’s a genetically altered human being. Something about the radiation the government uses on them makes them light up like Christmas Trees. Those grooves are the work of military scientists as his suit is made for only him and build around him like a shell. You see at the collar?” Autumn looked to where she indicated. “Those glowing lines are an interface that makes the suit a part of his body. We could pull it off him piece by piece but he’d still be what we call a super human. Most likely he could have given Ratchet a run for his money in a good wrestling match.” Hazel smirked.
Ratchet! Autumn’s head darted towards him but the medics had backed out of the circle previously made while they had tried to heal them and just stood around, putting away their equipment. Hazel lifted her hand and gripped Autumn’s shoulder. “He’s gone. I know how much he meant to you... his relatives are here to say goodbye. You can wait till they are gone, for privacy.”
“Thanks,” Autumn smiled weakly, blinking back fresh tears with a heaving sigh of sadness... she stood silent for a time, wiping her face. “What are we going to do to him?” Autumn jerked her chin downwards towards the Rogue.
Hazel smiled. The girl has said do to him instead with him. Clearly Autumn wanted some sort of revenge, which was natural. The smile faded from the leader’s face. “We can’t do anything to him, as he is now. They can resist torture like the best of them. They’ll die before they would reveal anything, and those are just the officers. No, who knows if he’s important enough to them to know anything. He may just be obeying orders. We won’t get anything from him. As for what we’re doing to do with him, there is no choice but to kill him.”
“Just like that?” Autumn bristled. “Ratchet died to get him all he way here all for nothing?!”
Hazel just shook her head. “Do whatever you want to him, it won’t make a difference. He can’t feel pain the same as you as me, rather numb to it actually. We could make use of his armor though, even if it isn’t suited to our bodies. It could be a covert tool.”
Hazel motioned for several rebels to approach. They unbound the Rogue just enough, held him securely with many more men that would normally be needed to restrain a regular man, and tore off his armor piece by piece, revealing thin undersuit over the soldier’s body which glowed bright blue in places that ran along his body, electrical stimuli to assist his body power his suit interface.
….
Carter watched the rebels remove his armor, an impatient look on his face. The armor’s tech would be useless to the rebels as it would only function with his bio-signature, but if they could find the right person it would at least offer protection. His gaze followed Hazel, so the team hadn’t gotten the mark after all. Technically it was still his mission to eliminate her. Carter’s mind began to race as he ran through a dozen tactical situations in his head, imagining how he could buy enough time to at least take her out. His body tensed up, ready to move if they opened a window. His eyes flicked to Autumn, she wanted his blood, and he wondered why she didn’t just take it.
---
Autumn was thinking along those lines. They rebound the Rogue tightly to the post again. A low guttural growl emitted as one of Hazels other protectors showed up, bristling with mutant rage, an intimidating mutt with hackles raised. It was devoted to the rebel leader as it was captured at birth from a training center where the government bred such beasts for their own use and grew up with a bond to Hazel as it saw her as its mother and gentle keeper. But woe those enemies that tried to hurt his master.
“Good boy,” Hazel reached out a hand and patted its head, but rather than wagging a tail as a normal dog would it simply perked up his ears and let out another growl at the Rogue. “Watch him.” She gave an order to the mutt. It walked forward a few paces to sit then rest it’s belly against the floor, its eyes never leaving the Rogue’s face, ready to punish hostile movements.
Hazel wanted the beast there not only to ensure the Rogue would not cause her any harm if he tried to escape from its bonds and try something along the lines of her assassination but also as protection for Autumn who she had become quite attached to. She felt something akin to motherhood as Autumn was an unfortunate orphan due to unfortunate circumstances. “Don’t have too much fun with him while I’m away.” Hazel let out a chuckle as she waved her hand and ducked out of the room, most likely to begin plans for another mission.
Hazel knew things that other rebels had not. She had lived in Utopia for a time with her father, had seen places only a daughter of a politician were privy to be. She knew key locations and knew how to get to them. She was a turncoat to everything her father had represented, and she liked it that way.
Autumn turned her eyes once again to the soldier, who looked a little more human now that the hulking protective armor had been removed. He was tall and sinuously built, but not without muscle that had been primed to be stronger than most humans. Everything about him was inhuman. Did he have human emotions, did his blood run red like hers or was it some sort of glowy blue like the tech on his bodysuit or his eyes?
She couldn’t gauge his mood, but his eyes would not leave her. He had been agitated with Hazel’s presence but to him Autumn was likely a low threat, of less importance, her only grace was the simple fact that she and everything she was, was his enemy. After a thought, she unsheathed one of her knives and quickly reached out and snatched his hand and before he could jerk his arm back she swiped her knife across his arm, delightfully deep.
…
Carter glanced down as she sliced his flesh, only feeling the dullest of aches in response. His blood was red, but much brighter than any normal human - enriched, like everything else. As soon as her knife left his skin it began healing, not sealing up, but the blood flow began to slow as it clotted at an increased rate. Carter looked back up, seeing the spite in her face as she desperately wanted him to feel pain. He thought he better start trying something, they would torture him to death eventually, and a Rogue could never submit to death - only find one strong enough to give it. “Your name.” He spoke plainly, expecting an answer.
---
“Wha... what?” She blinked at him. He hadn’t said anything before, made no indication that he could talk and the break in silence had unnerved her. But of course he could talk, he needed to communicate to his team somehow. So it was a very good thing that she had taken off his helmet after all, even if it had initially been due out of curiosity. She frowned deeply, not wanting to give her real name. It had been special, spoken only between her and Ratchet, and sometimes Hazel, but to everyone else she was Knives.
“Knives.” She made a sound of disgust. “What’s it to you anyway?”
…
Knives, what a coincidence, considering his own callsign. “You expect me to die without knowing my killer’s name?” His brow was low as he continued staring at her. Carter expected her to ask the same, considering he had killed her friend. The tent they rested in shook softly as a gust of wind passed by. Carter could hear commotion outside, and talking. He figured they had taken him to one of their bases, most likely an outpost. Breaking out would be no easy task, if he lived that long.
---
“Your killer?” She scoffed. “Perhaps. Though killing you quickly would be such a waste, not after what you and your kind did.” And to Ratchet. She swallowed hard, aching to feel his presence, but now he was only a shell. “I don’t know if I want to know your name, pig. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” She raised her knife, still coated with the bright blood. This was personal now. She tilted her blade this way and that as if trying to decide what to do to him first. “What is your name, then?”
…
“Dagger is my given name.” He noticed her guard slightly dropping. Carter’s eyes glanced to the floor where the dog watched him carefully. His face scrunched as spikes of pain went through his head, it was a test probe from command, spiking his neural augmentations to get a reading. They were seeing if he was still alive. It was possible the rest of Rogue team was still in the field, maybe coming to retrieve him. If they could ping his position, they’d even find a previously unknown rebel encampment. Carter shook his head as the pain subsided, returning his eyes to Knives.
---
Dagger. How amusing. Autumn frowned deeply at the sudden change in his face, as if something was giving him pain, but what the cause she didn’t know. Perhaps he had hit his head too hard when he flew back into the wall before. That must be it. The train of thought had given her pause. Ratchet...
She turned her eyes towards the door. She wondered if his kin had left. She really wanted to see him and the ache in her heart made her turn and take a few tentative steps towards the exit. She paused, looking from Dagger to the mutt and smiled a little. It’s not like he wasn’t going to be watched and she had plenty of time to get back to him. But now she just wanted to see Ratchet. Cutting the Rogue had brought her no satisfaction. Maybe if she saw Ratchet... yes.
She left him there and walked back out into the open. Hazel was standing beside Ratchet’s body and appeared to be waiting for Autumn. Hazel’s eyes moved towards the tent, obviously curious at the soldier’s state of health, but Autumn only looked dejected, the fight momentarily leaving her as she walked to squat beside her friend’s body.
She laid his hands against his chest and pressed her own upon them. Bandages hid the wound from view but the bandage was red with blood. “Goodbye my friend, she spoke softly. “You will be missed.”
Hazel turned her eyes away to give the girl privacy but still hung about. When Autumn stood back up, the girl’s eyes had done their crying and were steeled with resolve. She jerked her chin up to the rebel leader.
“I hope you have another plan, Hazel, and soon. We need to move, I can’t... I can’t just stand here. Not now. Not after this.”
Hazel smiled a little, appreciating Autumn’s zeal. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to be idle long. This little hitch up won’t change a thing, we just need to change our tactics. Look at it from a new perspective. I need you to step up and take Ratchet’s place. He taught you everything. I need you Autumn, and I need you level headed. So please keep your thoughts of revenge under control.”
…
With Knives out of the room, Carter began scanning for a window of opportunity. The dog still sat attentively watching, but an animal could only detect so much. With a jerk he pulled his hands apart, breaking the bonds holding them together. The dogs ears perked up, but Carter kept his hands where they were. He could break the rest, probably kill the dog too, but it wouldn’t be quiet and he wouldn’t get far. Carter was content to keep waiting, he wouldn’t act unless his life was directly threatened. The middle of a rebel camp was not the best place to attempt escape. Another shot of pain went through his head, what were they planning?
---
“Yeah,” Autumn sighed. Hazel was right. She could do what she wished with the prisoner, Dagger, but torturing him slow wouldn’t bring Ratchet back to life. It was best just to be over and done with it. She bent to get the rifle that she had placed beside Ratchet when he was laid down by the medics, turned and walked back to the Rogue. She stepped inside and raised the rifle and without any words aimed it at Dagger’s head. But she hesitated firing. She didn’t want to kill somebody tied up like that, she wanted a fight. But to let him loose was not a bright idea. She sighed and aimed again, her finger pressing lightly against the trigger. “Sorry, Dagger. This is for everyone’s good.”
…
As he stared down the barrel of the rifle her words resonated in his head, “... for everyone’s good.” Nearly the same words drilled into his head year after year. Just as she began to pull the trigger, sounds of gunfire erupted outside of the tent. As Autumn turned slightly to look towards the noise, Carter lifted his hands and grabbed the barrel of the rifle, pushing it aside and not letting go as he pushed forward tearing his restraints. The mutt immediately came forward, latching onto his leg and thrashing. His hands moved fast, releasing latches on the rifle causing it to fall apart in her hands. His hands preoccupied, he couldn’t stop her as she unsheathed one of her knives and drove it into his side. Grabbing his side with one hand, he picked Autumn up by the neck and threw her towards the corner of the room. With the hand at his side he ripped the knife from his flesh and thrust it into the dogs neck. Kicking it over as it recoiled from the strike. Carter ran for the back of the tent, pushing through it causing the whole thing to fall down. Outside the rebels seemed to be under attack, but he couldn’t see by whom. Most of them were rushing towards the fight. Hazel was still his target, but was now the best time? He quickly scanned and couldn’t see her, so he started running between the many tents - trying to keep low to avoid drawing too much attention. He glanced backwards, unsure if Autumn was still in pursuit.
---
What is that noise, gunfire? Alarm shot through her body. She was certain they hadn’t been followed, she and Ratchet had waited for enough time to pass, hadn’t they? She let out a startled noise as the soldier used the distraction to move the barrel away from him and, with one touch, Dagger triggered the weapon to disassemble. She vaguely heard Hazel’s mutt tear into the soldier’s flesh and she whipped out her dagger to thrust it into his side. Her momentary surge of satisfaction turned into surprise as Dagger seized her by the neck and flung her like some kind of ragdoll clear across to the other side of the room. She heard the pained yelp of the mutt as he let out a death throttle, something between a sigh and a growl and heard the thud as its body lay lifeless on the ground. Then as Autumn started to get onto her feet, she was pushed down as the heavy canvas billowed down over her, the supports giving way as Dagger had violently flung himself straight through. She bristled indignantly, trying to wrestle herself free, flinging the canvas this way and that until she was uncovered. In those moments of her struggle the soldier had run off.
Again, she was divided. Help her fellow rebel force with this new threat, or follow Dagger, who undoubtedly was trying to complete his own mission... likely to take Hazel out before she could make any more moves against the government. Flexing and unflexing her hands, she decided to track down Dagger and started an attempt to track his movements. She could hear scuffling here and there ahead of her and with no sound of gunfire, she was sure it was the Rogue. Everyone else was armed to the teeth, and the remnants of the rifle lay somewhere below the canvas. As far as she knew Dagger was unarmed. Moving not as covertly, she followed in pursuit. She had nothing to lose.
…
As Carter rounded a corner he ran right into a rebel fighter, colliding, it barely moved Carter but the fighter was thrown to the ground. “Hey asshole, watch where you’re-” A look of shock lit up his face for just a moment before Carter’s fist struck him unconscious. Carter reached into the rebel’s holster and withdrew his pistol, a shoddy little thing, nothing near government standard issue. He also retrieved the rebel’s crude communicator and took off again, taking turns as he headed for the edge of the camp.
Flicking on the communicator he dialed in the frequency for command, “This is Dagger, I am attempting escape from a rebel outpost, location unknown.” Static came back for a moment before the voice of the U-SEC AI addressed him. “We read you Operative Dagger, you have been issued a new prime directive.” Carter dove behind a small ammo cache and crouched down, listening intently as he scanned the area for Knives or any other attacker. “Go ahead command.” “The Administrator has directed you to join the insurgents - you will do whatever they ask - cease all communication with U-SEC operations until we determine the appropriate time for your reactivation. Confirm directive.” Carter nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was going to gain their trust at this point. “Acknowledged, ceasing contact.” He removed the communicator and threw it aside.
Peeking around the corner, he saw Knives as she came running down the path toward him. As she neared, he jumped up from behind the cache blocking her path. He pointed the pistol straight at her, waiting a moment as she ducked behind cover. When she peeked back around he raised his arms, throwing the magazine from the pistol away, and tossing the weapon to the side. “Hold your fire, Knives.”
---
She practically skidded to a halt, eying him warily as he threw the pistol side. What the hell? The rebel on the ground was unconscious, not dead. Dagger could have finished him off but he hadn’t... why? She glanced down at the discarded communicator and pressed her lips together. Nothing about this seemed right. “You contacted your squad... didn’t you? Are we to expect company then?” She narrowed her eyes, hissing fiercely. Why had he thrown the pistol aside? It was strange.
…
Carter was surprised she had noticed the comm-link. Suddenly the gunfire started to die down, the government forces were pulling back. “Yes, I told them to call off the attack.” He noticed her expression, “I.. I don’t know what happened, suddenly I realized what I was doing. I’m not even sure who I am.” He was faking of course, but he was good at it, he had done it his whole life. “I don’t mean you any harm, maybe I can help? It seems I know how to fight..” He looked down at the unconscious rebel trooper. “I think he would have killed me if I hadn’t stopped him.” He paused, waiting to gauge her reaction.
---
Suspicion was clear on her face. She narrowed her eyes to peer at his own as if that would give something away. This wasn’t right, none of it. Why would his squad listen to his command to pull back and cease fire. Either he was more important than Hazel had dismissed him to be, which may mean fruitful information for their cause if he were to deliver any, or it was some sort of government trick. She shook her head a little. The only one who would be able to make sense of this was Hazel. But the deadness that had been in his eyes when they first laid eyes upon each other after she pulled off his helmet was strangely absent. Perhaps there was something more to him than just a programmed tool of death. But why a sudden change of heart? “Why would you assist us? I don’t believe you one bit.” And she didn’t, not for a moment.
…
“I don’t know, it feels like I’ve just woken up.. and you’re the only person I can remember.” He started to lower his hands, but kept his palms where she could see them. “How can I prove it to you?” Given recent events, her trepidation was expected - but if Carter could talk around a Government Censor, he was confident he could convince a rebel hothead.
---
Her eyes narrowed even more and she shook her head a little. “Shooting yourself in the foot for starters.” She found it amusing, her mouth twisting into a wry smile. Whether she was serious or not was unclear. “You don’t need to prove it to me, I don’t care either way if you live or die, it’s up to Hazel now...”
She put two fingers together and let out a sharp whistle. Rebels, angry from the unexpected attack, came forward to apprehend him. His arms were wrenched behind his back and twisted a little much to one’s satisfaction.
“Now move,” Autumn pointed towards the command tent and to get him moving, the rebels twisted him around to get him moving. Once he did so , Autumn scooped up the pistol and clicked on the safety before tucking it into her belt. The unconscious rebel was scooped up as well and directed towards the medic tent. Autumn simply followed the group as they ushered Dagger to meet with Hazel
“So it’s you again, is it?” Hazel lifted up a cloth and scattered it over the table quickly to cover up any sensitive information and came from around it, crossing her arms and glancing at Autumn. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
“I was, but he’s had a sudden change of heart...” Autumn quickly related the incident and short conversation.
Hazel too narrowed her eyes. “No, I don’t believe you either. But I can’t let you go to waste either, as it is, now that you say you’re no more threat to us. However, you’re to be watched at all times.” She gave a firm nod to the others. “Change shifts, get some rest, it’s going to be a long night I think.”
Already, the medic tents were full of wounded and dying men, now their numbers had swelled because of the government troops had found them out somehow. “We’re going to have to relocate. This location is compromised. And who knows what this pig told his friends, even if he does say he’s on our side now.”
“So, what do you have to say for yourself, soldier?” Hazel jerked up her chin. “Just how are you going to help us. You must know something good if your squad were willing to obey your commands. So spill it.”
…
“I’m not sure what I can tell you, I can barely remember what happened an hour ago. I’m not sure why they listened to me.” Feigning amnesia would hopefully avoid having to reveal too much, command was probably already preparing to redeploy around what he might tell them. “But I remember my training, I can fight, I’m good with a rifle. Maybe.. I can take someone out for you.” He glanced towards Knives, “You all haven’t killed me yet so I think that deserves a little loyalty.” He looked back at Hazel, “I remember Utopia.. I think I know my way around.” Carter remembered his suit, “You all took my armor, it holds information in its datastores only I can access. Watch me, guard me, lock me up, I don’t care. Just give me a chance to prove myself.”
---
“We have enough fighters...” Hazel frowned at him. “As for knowing the city, most likely you don’t know all that much more than me. And giving you back your armor is out of the question. At least now you’re manageable. Give you back your suit and we’re no match. And there is no way in hell I’m going to give you the opportunity to give privileged infomation to your squad even though you say you’re on our side now. I don’t know what your game is but you’re not getting any quarter from me. So you have a bit of a memory problem, it seems... you’re a bomb waiting to happen that’s what you are.”
Hazel sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “I need to take some time to think about what you’ve said, and what exactly I am going to do for you. It’s late, we all need some shuteye.” She raised her fingers and made a motion that indicated that he be taken away. “Shut him up and tie him down until I come for him in the morning. There is more planning to do before I can get some rest.”
“You’d better do a good job of it, he busted through the old restraints like they were nothing,” Autumn warned her.
“Hmm, well, if he says he is here to stay, well, at least we have to give him that credit.” Hazel frowned at Dagger. “And don’t think of trying to go for your armor either, it is well hidden. There is a matter of trust you have to earn. Now, go.”
He was taken to a small shed and given manacles to bind his wrists and at the ankles, then the door was barred shut. It was dark inside the shed and only a thin amount of moonlight filtered in from thin cracks between the scraps of tin that made up the shed. Another example at the resources the rebels had to make use of. It wasn’t pretty but it did the job.
Autumn, for one, decided to get some sleep in the meager quarters she and Ratchet had shared. It was so quiet in there, the absence of life and laughter from her friend was extinguished forever. She shook her head and tried to shake the feelings out of herself so that she might get some rest. She lay down on the thin pallet that made her bed and pulled a worn but warm enough blanket over herself and settled down for the night.
The candlelight burned into the night in the command tent. Hazel sorted out the rest of the plans to relocate the very next day. They would be leaving much behind but there was always somewhere to go and there was a backup camp where they could make their home for now until the heat was off of this place.
…
Carter nodded at Hazel’s response, their apprehension was entirely expected. You don’t just go from killing rebels to being their friend in one day. There was more he could say, but it would betray his facade of amnesia. He allowed their guards to take him away, offering no resistance as they threw him into the shed. He tested the durability of his manacles, though he had no intention of breaking them. He walked somberly to the corner of the shed and sat down. Rogue was designed only to need 1-2 hours of sleep at most to be completely wired, so it would be a long night for him. Carter gazed up at the strings of moonlight as he heard the sound of distant explosions, the battle never ended in Utopia - but the sounds of it soothed Carter. As children they were conditioned to the sound of battle, they slept through it, they ate with it. It was as soothing a sound to him as a lullaby. Hour after hour passed before he finally succumbed to sleep.
---
An older gentlemen, near to celebrating his fifty-third year, stood in front of his expansive office window looking down at the city below him. He was some 50 stories above the street, his office situated within the sleek looking skyscraper that housed MediCorps, a huge conglomerate which was comprised of multiple pharmaceutical companies, medical research and development - which included a large share of Utopia’s genetic advancement facilities, and much interest in horticulture, both native and domestic.
In these ventures, Michael Cowell was successful. Very successful. His wealth allowed him a seat in politics as the funding for his campaigns were of a trivial matter. Many fellow politicians and government officials were “personal” friends and business partners. He was able to buy the loyalty of every one of them - personal feelings and ethics could be overlooked for the right price. But there was one flaw he could not completely buy his way out of - his affiliation to a family member. His daughter, a constant thorn in his side. She was everyone’s sweetheart as a young child with her curls and frilly dresses, but as soon as she hit puberty she turned into a total nightmare, an embarrassment, and had the audacity to run away from home, a scandal that followed him into his early political career. There was a cover up, of course, that his daughter had only moved away. But now she was back, making more trouble than ever, much to his eternal vexation. And now she was a rebel leader, the very same Hazel Cowell that led an attack that very day.
No one knew who she was, of course. He by no means volunteered the information and Hazel appeared to want nothing of him, just that everything he had worked for would be abolished, destroyed, obliterated, all for a rebellion led by a spoiled, misfit child. Research facilities that had wealths of information were destroyed because they were deemed “unethical” by these terrorists. The only unethical thing about it would be not to use the results of their experiments to make humans more perfect. Why should they allow imperfections to continue to plague the human race when advancements have made it possible to attain perfection? Yes, perhaps some people were made to be medical guinea pigs but it was for the greater good!
Michael Cowell breathed in and stood straighter. The banishment of imperfection was vital to humanity. Yes... mutations are abominations that should be purged, not suffered just because some think that all who live should be loved and cherished... pure rubbish. Look at our military, for example. Men in their prime with the strength of half a dozen men, perfect builds and bodies, and delightfully manipulative due to their conditioning, another aspect of MediCorps in cooperation with the heads of Utopia’s military interests.
He narrowed his eyes as he watched sporadic bombs igniting here and there in the city districts, easy to spot from his vantage point. How many of these insurgents were allied with his estranged daughter? Then the occasional flare of crossfire. Cowell sighed heavily. When are the citizens going to realize that these terrorists should be routed out, rounded up, and banished out of the city proper? They were no better than animals, their natural born children inferior in every way, and should be treated as such. He smiled after a thought came to him. Perhaps he could pull some strings and have a wall built around the city once and for all, to keep what and who should be out for good. Then they could move on and rebuilt the city, even better than before. It would be glorious.
There was a tap on his office door before his secretary peeked in. “
Mister Governor, sir. Will there be anything else? Everyone’s leaving for the day.” She bit her lower lip a little, clearly anxious not for him but for herself, because there was now an established curfew for Utopia’s citizens. It was made for their protection, because no one wanted to be out in the streets after dark. That was when they prowled. Mutant beasts that somehow wriggle their way into the city proper. Not even domestic beasts were safe. They were seen as a good meal to the terrors of the wild. Not to mention being unfortunate enough to step in the middle of a terrorist attack or a land mine and lose a limb.
“No, no. You may go Miss Johnson. I’ll be along shortly. Be sure to lock up without me, I have my key.”
“Yes sir.” She looked relieved and shut the door quietly behind her. The click clack of her heels faded as she walked to the elevator.
Governor Cowell found himself staying later and later at the office building these last few weeks. He was tiring of coming home to his wife. She had become weepy and needy of late and he didn’t enjoy her company. It was nerves, the doctors told him.They slept in separate bedrooms now. No matter, he could find company elsewhere...
...
As sunlight at last began to seep into the shed, and a misshapen rooster crowed its morning squawk, the door was unbolted and opened with a creak. Two men came forward and unlatched his restraints, one snapping them shut onto his belt.
“Hazel’s decided to trust you. We’re moving out, and quickly. You’re to help with the cargo, seeing as you’re strong enough.” He smirked and opened the door to the shed all the way, giving a motion of a sweep of his arm and bowing a little. “Your majesty...” T
he other man snickered. “You better watch out, bud. We’ve all got our eye on you.” They pointed the way towards the cargo tent and moved on to their own business.
Rebels were in a frenzy packing medical supplies in containers that could survive the apocalypse as well as basic supplies that were deemed important enough to take with them. Autumn looked up from packing when Dagger came in to help and made a sound of exasperation. She mumbled something derogatory under her breath as she went back to work. A man mopped his brow with a cloth. and pointed at Carter. “You, pick that one up and load it on the wagon outside. Then finish with the others. I’d give you a hand but I know you don’t need it. Not if what they say is true.”
…
Carter was already wide awake when the men arrived, leaning against the wall ready to move as they opened the door. He ignored their comments as he walked past them into the yard, nodding as he followed the man’s commands. Carter reached down and hoisted the container up to his shoulder with ease. Carrying it to the wagon and sliding it to the back with one push. He had been up the past few hours doing the rigorous exercise drills he had done every day of his life, each and every morning. Something had been bothering him though, something drilled into him from a young age. Bloodthirst, he hadn’t killed anything in some time - and his eyes darted around to every rebel, his trigger finger twitching instinctively as he imagined firing and pulling the bolt on his rifle over and over, watching the spray of red mist as they dropped to the ground. Carter shook his head and glanced back and forth, wondering if anyone had noticed his temporary zone-out. He walked back to the pile of containers and continued loading them, waiting for the foreman to direct him otherwise. The wounds Knives had struck him with were already almost completely gone, he glanced in her direction, wondering if her aggression was in check.
---
The foreman had to approve at his speed, they could barely keep up as he returned to the tent time after time to grab the other containers that had been sealed. Not wanting to be outdone Autumn, already in a terrible mood, increased her packing in a frenzy, and the foreman had to tell her to watch that she didn’t break anything precious. She sulked a little and threw a bundle of bandaging into the top of her container and shut the lid with an angry thud. It was a few minutes before the rest of the containers were snapped shut and ready to load, so efficient had Carter been. He would have noticed other wagons that had been loaded with other types of cargo, and the loads were each secured with canvas tarp and strapped down to keep the moisture off of those bins and crates that were not watertight as those he had carried had been.
Autumn by no means had forgiven him for the death of her friend, and she didn’t feel like the forgiving type. She rejected any idea that he was somehow the good guy now... the repentant man who had changed his ways. Why didn’t he decide that before he shot Ratchet? She made no attempt to contain the storm of anger inside her and had apparently refused to speak to him though she did cast him glances here and there, mostly an icy glare.
If those who worked beside the soldier knew what he was thinking they would have most likely shot him on sight. Hazel had spread word for every soul to be cautious of the Rogue and not get too comfortable or buddy-buddy with him. But only Autumn seemed to be watching him with undisguised mistrust. If her fellow rebels were suspicious of him they did not make it obvious, seeming to be wrapped up in their work. But if anything, their stock were not to be taken lightly. Born to be fighters from birth, they were not unlike Carter in that respect, though it was idealism that conditioned them, not brainwashing. As it was, some of the other rebel women gave Carter glances under their eyelashes, openly admiring his physique. They were not the shy type, not these who knew that their days may be numbered and life should be lived to the fullest. Whether or not they would act on their interests was only a matter of time. But at the present moment, priorities were clear and it was not romance on everyone’s minds.
Next on the agenda was to take down the tenting that had provided shelter. The sheds would be left behind because it would be a wasted effort to pull them down when they would only have to be rebuilt after the heat from their enemy died down. It was efficient work, and it was not long before their convoy was ready to move out. Rebels hopped onto the wagons or ancient motorbikes, or simply walked by the wagon train, pulled by a patched together vehicle or by the old stand by, mismatched teams of horses that had been jacked by the mounted police patrol.
The vehicles movements were unexpectedly quiet by anyone’s standards. Specialized mufflers built by clever rebel mechanics to keep the vehicles, old as they were, relatively rattle free. There weren’t many vehicles left in the city, mostly transport was by the sleek skyrail, and the rebels were all too willing to fix up the clunkers abandoned by those owners who thought they were nothing but worthless hunks of junk. There were even a few rusty old tractors abandoned for their inefficiency by MediCorps, once used to maintain the sprawling crops from which their pharmaceutical companies derived their products.
After a few miles, the paved roads became worn dirt trails just big enough for one way traffic, and vegetation began to press in on both sides. The more familiar growth became more and more foreboding as trees became more gnarled and unkempt, and once in the Wild, bastardizations as those flora and fauna that had been introduced by Earth’s seed reserves made way for the strange, and often dangerous, native plants that evolved naturally since the planet had been birthed, quite alien in its makeup. The Wild was something to fear and few ventured out this far, unless they were crackpot researchers... or the rebels that had no other options. Autumn hopped down from a truck, pulled on thick gloves and kept pace with the caravan as she threw a satchel over her shoulder and began to pick wicked looking plants, or herbs whose flowers looked a little on the toxic side. The gloves protected against the poisonous sap and thorns that accompanied some of her choices, and she stuck each deep into the bag.
A rebel who was seated near Carter, but not too close for discomfort, watched Autumn For some reason he thought he needed to explain some of his band’s habits, as if Carter was some foreigner... and in some sense he was, because after all, he didn’t grow up one of them.
“See what she’s doing there? Her mother was something of a herbalist and taught her some things before she died. She looked into the rest in books after she learned to read. It’s the poisons, she tips her daggers with them most times. It’s some of the same concoctions that MediCorps uses all hush-hush like.” The rebel thought this was funny and chuckled a little. “Can’t pull the wool over her eyes, that one.
When it grew dark, the mood quickly turned from relaxed to soberness, as it was the time that the mutations were likely to prowl. Lights hummed as they warmed up so they may see around them, and rifles were loaded with bullets and made ready to fire in an instant. There was a great danger now. Wild beasts were always savage, but mutations were a whole breed all their own. And not just beasts, but human genetic experiments gone wrong and abandoned to fend for themselves, both grotesque and eerily intelligent. Any mutations were dangerous. Imagine a beast with some kind of super-rabies, ten times bigger than it should be, completely running on instinct with a brain gone sour. Not a pretty picture. Autumn had abandoned her harvesting well before dark and now sat on a transport, a rifle in her own hand. Carter was not given weapons, he’d have to fend for himself in an attack, and frankly many of them would not grieve if he were to die.
Autumn found herself almost wishing for a mutation to attack and sink its dripping fangs deep into Carter’s neck and tear him into bloody ribbons. She smiled at that.
…
Carter didn’t seem to even notice the womens’ attentions, sex and attraction were almost foreign to him. They were distractions on the battlefield, and as such those feelings were completely driven from them from a young age. Like the rest of Rogue, he had been made infertile to prevent breeding. His perfect genes were too valuable to be given away at an individual’s whim.
Carter admired the craftsmanship of the rebels, though he couldn’t help drawing comparisons to government equipment. He was well used to most of their weapons from training and exercises, but they seemed to have even more now - make-shift and salvaged weapons of all types. He itched to hold a gun and eyed the guns of others jealousy, though he knew they didn’t trust him enough for that.
As they entered into the wilds, Carter seemed to become more guarded than usual - even for him. From his seat on the side of the train he watched diligently for an attack. During their teenage years every member of Rogue had been dumped, blindfolded and armed only with a machete, into the wilds and forced to find their way back. Every one of them did, much to the administrator’s surprise. It was the day Project Ajax was finally taken seriously, becoming more than a back-burner project. Carter knew the dangers of the outside world well, and pitied some of the rebels - knowing a number of them were not ready for the true horrors it contained.
---
Hazel’s bodyguards sat in a tight circle around her at her vantage point, bristling outward with effective weapons ready to fire at a moments notice. They maintained a sober attitude, not quick to panic, which is why the rebel leader had chosen them. Before long, the convoy detoured into a clearing, going off road, and maneuvered their vehicles into a tight circle about the clearing’s edge. The wagons would provide good cover if the rebels were attacked and a guard watch was posted at key points, the shifts would turn from person to person as the night progressed. The others settled down for the night but few would able to sleep. The tension among them all was palatable. The two teams of horses were brought into this protective circle, for their own safety.
Autumn sat alone, her back against one of the wagons, her weapon lay across her lap. She crossed her arms tightly about her as if cold, and her face looked despondent. She did not converse with anyone, but had talked to Hazel earlier in the day. She did not look up very often, except to cast glances at the edges of the clearing through the thin gaps spaced between the parked vehicles.
In the distance, but not as far away as they would like, there were strange noises. Not howling exactly but something similar, mixed in with garbled grunting and the sound of disjointed crashing through the green. Autumn shivered when she heard the terrified cry of a wild animal before its death throttle, then the crunching of bones. Something was out there, and she hoped that there wasn’t a pack of mutations. Of which could do serious danger to the rebels small population. Autumn got to her feet and moved closer inward into the circle, turning her body to face outside of it.
The horses were unsurprisingly spooked by the noises of the mutations, and after attempts to soothe and restrain them, they were moved and tied to the wagons so that they may not bolt entirely. This wasn’t a comforting idea but to lose these resources would slow them down as those wagons would need to be hitched behind another, which would put strain on even the heartiest of their vehicles.
This was a poor situation, since the animals could act as unintentional bait, drawing the mutation hunters inward and closer to the camp. And worse, the horses could be killed and a blood frenzy would ensue, the rebels inevitably being the next targets. They did not look forward to a waste of ammo and worse, of lives.
At first sign of the mutations presence Carter was thrown a rifle. After all, they needed as much help as they could get and the danger of attack was more pressing than one from him.
…
Carter snatched up the rifle eagerly, turning it over in his hands as he examined every part of it. He lifted it and tucked it snugly into his arm, holding it up to view the sights, removing the magazine and testing the trigger. It was a solid weapon, if a bit old. Carter punched the magazine back in and loaded it, peering out into the nearby jungle. He was ready for anything, his mind eager to see blood. He could hear the roars and thrashing off distant beasts, wondering if they would wander over the threshold. Carter glanced around at the other rebels, some of them focused and ready, others shaking and unsure.
----
Autumn was neither shaken nor unsure. She was more alert than ever, being an experienced fighter herself. The prospect of danger sent little shivers down her spine of warning and her adrenaline began to rise. She smiled a little, itching a bit for battle, especially as it may prove to be an outlet for her frustrations on losing her partner. So she found herself inching her way towards the vehicles, towards where most of the commotion was occurring. Others took her lead and joined her side. They did not want to cower and wait for something to come to them. On the contrary, to wipe out the threat firsthand before the mutations got too close wasn’t a bad idea.
…
A rumbling could be felt through the ground as the sound of rushing leaves and snapping tree branches grew ever nearer. A horrid beast came galloping from the overgrowth, its fur brown and mottled, patches of red skin glistening with blood beneath it. It mostly resembled an enormous dog, its head was a horrifying sight, looking as if it was in the process of becoming two. Its gross tongue flailed about as it set its sight on the nearest rebel fighter, intending to devour him. Its pack followed close behind it, bringing six more of the beasts to bear against the caravan. Carter raised his rifle and began firing immediately, he had seen something of their type before, and it wouldn’t be long before one of them had gone through five men. His first shot quickly dispatched one of the younger beasts in the back, but his next several shots seemed to only anger them. As he pulled the trigger once more, the gun clicked in response, his magazine was empty. Ducking down, he reached into a nearby crate and retrieved several more placing them neatly in a row. Carter’s gunplay was a discipline, and that wasn’t always a good thing.
---
Autumn made no pause at the sight of them and jumped up onto on of the backs of the wagons and onto a crate, planting her feet. She opened fire, trying to hit what she thought to be critical shots, most often to maim and cripple to slow them down rather than to kill them outright. She aimed straight for the mutations’ eyes because they were closest to their brains when she tried to kill, knowing their hides were probably tough and thick. When she ran out of ammo, she kicked open an ammunition crate, of which there were many, and slammed a new magazine into her rifle and was back up and shooting in no time. At this moment, more of the rebels took up arms and hopped up on the trucks as well, or dove for places with more cover. When one of the beasts got too close, Autumn flipped her rifle around in a deft move and smashed the butt of her rifle into the mutation’s skull then spun it around again, pressed the barrel against the dazed creature’s skull and planted a slug in its brain. With the combined efforts of Autumn, Carter, and the more experienced fighters, the enemy was quickly laid to waste.
But by no means was every soul alive and well. Many were wounded and some were killed. The bites would have to be seen to immediately and administered an antidote so their own cells would not mutate. A few even had lost a limb and their arm or leg was bound with a makeshift tourniquet to slow them from bleeding out, but it was unlikely they would survive such a wound without professional medical help. And those type of facilities were far behind them, not that they would be welcome, being who they were.
Autumn found great satisfaction in the mutations’ demise, the act of destroying them was mildly therapeutic, as the pent up frustration and grief had been running through her tense body was almost to a boiling point. She hopped off the wagon and turned her eyes on Carter, frowning at the fact he had so many weapons piled around him, instantly turning suspicious that he may turn one onto herself or one of her allies. After all there had been bloodshed, and he may be keyed up enough by his conditioning that he was a live wire. She set her rifle down carefully and approached him carefully, her eyes moving down to the rifle he still held in his hand.
“I suppose I have to thank you for doing what you did.” She frowned deeply, hating to admit aloud that he may not be all bad. “But I suggest you drop that rifle, now.”
And there were eyes on him, gauging his motions. The camp had become quiet. Now that the attack was over they expected him to relinquish his rifle because he was still under suspicion. Many rebels were still armed, and barrels were slowly inching their way towards his location.
Hazel came forward. “Put your weapons down, he’s not going to make any trouble.” She fixed her eyes on Carter. “Are you?”
…
Carter lowered his rifle as the fighting ceased, but slightly raised it as he noticed the others closing in. He was ready if they tried anything, but he set it down once more as Hazel approached. “Only if you want me to.” He pulled the magazine, ejected the chambered round and raised his hands very visibly in front of everyone almost mockingly, turning back and forth. His eyes turned to Autumn and he stared at her for a long moment, his expression blank, before looking back to Hazel. “Can I have my skin back now?” It was his first battle in a long time without his armor and he could feel its absence. He expected her refusal, but their holding of it frustrated him.
---
Hazel took a long look at him, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. She contemplated the pros and cons and eventually she nodded a little and gave one of her bodyguards a signal. “Give him what he wants. He’ll need it in the wild. “
One of her bodyguards walked over to Hazel’s truck, unlocked a special compartment within its cargo and pulled out the suit piece by piece, handing it off to others so that it may be placed by Carter’s feet. Everyone else stepped back a moment and then at a dismissive wave by Hazel they all returned to their previous responsibilities.
“There you have it. Don’t give me a reason not to trust you and I will. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you have that rifle Autumn confiscated, but only if you prove yourself to me. Now get some shuteye, we’re moving out again at daybreak.
…
Carter simply nodded to Hazel and hastily set about putting himself back in his armor. It was something of a meticulous process. After he finally slipped his helmet back over his head and the tiny atmosphere processors within the suit churned the enriched air back into his lungs, he took a deep breath and sighed. He glanced down at his chestplate, examining the small blemishes where Autumn’s haze of gunfire had dented it, running his hands over to make sure it was still intact. His eyes returned to her a moment as she walked back to her duties.
Carter slung his rifle and ignored her suggestion of sleep, he could push through the night with none easily. Instead he hopped off the wagons and walked the perimeter of the convoy, keeping his eyes on the wilderness as well as the rebels.
---
The rest of the night was rather uneventful, as they had survived any mutation attack. In the morning the horses were hitched to their respective places, the engines topped off with fuel, and after everything was lashed down they turned back on the dirt road, which thinned as new vegetation had grown along it, which slowed their progress as rebels armed with machetes cut down branches that were in the way or moved fallen trees that would block their way. Eventually, the road widened again as they entered civilization, a base of sorts that was larger than their previous occupancy, which was already populated by another troop willing to allow them to merge with their activities for a time. After all, power grew in numbers. In retrospect, Utopia wasn’t too far away. The journey had only been slow because of their cargo. The motorbikes sped off to stress this fact and the men were able to take up a faster pace ahead as the vehicles were driven alongside the sprawling encampment.
Hazel hopped off her vehicle and walked to meet with the rebel leader. They had been previously introduced and an alliance between them had been struck. After some conversation between them, the pair returned to meet up with the convoy and instructions were given where they might unload their cargo and pitch their tents.
“Take as much time as you need, Hazel. Utopia isn’t going anywhere.” Her companion smiled, a spread of warmth that made his old eyes crinkle.
“Thanks, William. If you need any fresh supplies here, let me know. We have plenty to go around.” Hazel grinned back.
William’s band of rebels had their own agendas, and Hazel did not intend to get in the way of that. But she did offer her own men in assistance, because any maneuver against the government was good in her book.
Hazel brought with her news, and the pair moved off into the established encampment to swap stories and swap stratagem. The rebels didn’t appear to need any further instructions in her absence. Their habits were so in sync with one another the new camp rose above them just as quickly as it had been disassembled before. Their work done, they made for the encampment mess hall, and brought along with them food so that it may be divided and shared. The meat they served was gamey, as it was from the Wild. No mutants, of course, provided this, but instead other creatures that made the WIld their home. Something akin to deer provided plenty to kill, as well as other strange mammals. Grain was made into gruels and coarse bread, the seed for the harvest stolen from the crops funded by MediCorps themselves to feed Utopia’s citizens. Most of what they had had been pilfered in one way or another, they had no shame.
Autumn sat by herself, as usual, not alienating herself per se but it had been a habit for Ratchet and herself to converse together, amicable in their bond. She had been rather distant as it was, but nothing unexpected in her case. She munched on bread and dipped it into her stew’s gravy, containing wild game and some weird looking root vegetables of which she was knowledgeable of.
…
Carter made his way to the mess hall as well, passing by stunned onlookers as well as older rebels that knew exactly what he was, glaring at him as he walked by. He took his meal and ate it quickly, its crudeness was right at home for him - having had to eat similar meals in training and in the field. Carter exited the mess hall immediately, preferring to stay away from a crowd due to years operating as a lone wolf. He explored the camp, trying to find Hazel. It didn’t take long, barging into her private meeting with the fellow rebel commander he brandished a salute. “What are your orders, ma’am?” To Carter there was no such concept as free time, never an objective to be not completed.
---
Autumn noticed Carter’s entrance, and every eye followed him as he took a seat. Those not aquainted with him muttered uneasily, suspiously, to one another in hushed voices. One man stood up quickly, lifted up his half empty mess tray and walked past Carter, giving him a look of unmasked spite, and threw the rest of his food in the trash and handed off the dirty tray to those on kitchen duty that day. “I ain’t eating near that filth. Makes a man loose his appetite,” he said a little too loudly and stalked off. Others shrugged and went on with their meal as it the occurance hadn’t taken place.
How he bolted down his food wasn’t healthy, she thought to herself, giving him a strange look like he was out of his mind. He ate as if he wasn’t grateful to have food, as if it wasn’t dsanything but something to keep his body going. She went back to her food, eating at a proper pace, until her mess tray was almost glistening. Oh what she wouldn’t do for a good dessert every once in a while. She had an ice cream sundae once as a little girl and she hadn’t had one since. But she remembered how gloriously decadent it had been. Had he ever had one? Most likely not.
Hazel only blinked at Carter for a moment. William stiffened and looked a bit hostile. It may be the fact that he had barged into the meeting or the fact that he was a Rogue soldier, or both. William looked at Hazel, expecting an explanation and quickly before the clenching of his fists became a swinging punch.
“This is... well, I don’t know his name, he never volunteered it and I never bothered to ask. He’s a Rogue. Well, he was until he decided to offer his services to me. Somehow he defected an attack on our base and ordered his team to ceasefire and withdraw, then allied with us. He may have privileged information to tell us, but he says he can’t remember anything so I tolerate him. I wouldn’t say I am going to far as to trust him completely, but he could still be useful to the cause.”
William crossed his hands behind his back, the stance of an old soldier. He looked Carter up and down, assessing him. “Well young man, is this true?”
…
“Yes, sir.” He turned to Hazel, “As I said before, I have information here that can aid you.” He tapped the back of his helmet, where the system’s AI was located. He stepped forward to the table and held up his palm, tiny lights flared, projecting a tiny hologram of a map. “Locations of critical government assets, take your pick.” The locations were mostly remote factories and supply facilities, but still very useful to the rebel war effort, if U-SEC hadn’t already stripped them due to his knowledge.
---
“Can you expand the image?” Willam bent a little closer towards Carter’s open palm. When he did, both Hazel and Willam examined the map. William rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked over the key points.
“I have to hand it to you, Rogue. You were right, you do know a little more than I thought. See here, William?” She pointed to one of the locations. “We’ve been trying to get into this facility for weeks and we’ve been going about it the wrong way. See these points here and here?” She motioned towards them. “Those would be the best mode of entry, then we can take what we need from their stores, right under her noses. We hadn’t thought of going below Utopia’s streets, I was only familiar with ground routes. But this changes things.”
William scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, this could have saved some time. Looks like we’re after some of the same targets, we could join forces on this. Twice the manpower would get the job done more quickly, that’s for sure. “ He looked up at Carter and gave him another look over. “Maybe I was wrong about you soldier. We’ll need to sketch out a few maps using these specs. If you have the patience, perhaps you can assist by indicating on our maps the best means of entry into the zones.”
Hazel pursed her lips a moment, considering. “We’re after MediCorps, soldier.” She had dropped the sarcasm in her voice when she addressed Carter. “I don’t know if you know what’s going on in there, maybe you don’t need to know, but we need to put a stop to some of their projects. They think they know what’s best for Utopia, for us all, but that’s where they get it all wrong. They lost sight of what it means to be human long ago. We couldn’t change their minds with protests, it wasn’t enough, so we’re taking more direct action. There are more than enough of those responsible to detain, some must be silenced. That’s where our plans come in. Autumn is now one of the key points in that instrument, I’ve promoted her, since one of my best agents is now dead and gone.”
By the sound of her voice, she must mean Ratchet. “She’s been primed for covert operations and she’s the lynchpin that needs to gain access. You’re going to help make sure that she succeeds.”
…
Carter nodded to William, “I’ll help anyway I can.” Turning back to Hazel, “What’s your plan? Full assault or infiltration? Is Autumn one of your special operatives?” The name Autumn was foreign to him, not knowing it belonged to Knives. His eyes occasionally drifted to William, it was a rebel leader he had not been briefed on. He wasn’t sure U-SEC even knew about him, it would be an interesting tidbit for command.
---
“It is clear that our assaults were all but fruitless, the way we were working things, because ground routes were all we had to go on. There will still be assaults, we need to keep up pretenses, and it will be a good distraction. Now we will mainly focus on infiltration.” Then she realized she called Autumn by her familiar name and cursed herself for letting it slip. Autumn would not approve. “The woman you know as Knives is Autumn but never say that name. You’ll piss her off. Yes, she is part of what we’ve built up as our own ops team. She is quite good at what she does, I am sure she didn’t think you were worth the effort, but don’t underestimate her just because she’s young. She’s lived and breathed combat since she was old enough to wield a weapon, Ratchet was her mentor. But you never got to know him.”
William hadn’t moved his eyes from Carter ever since Hazel had begun to reply. The Rogue’s eyes bore no hint of recognition and in that he was relieved. His rebel force wasn’t as aggressive as Hazel in their all out assaults, rather they worked in internal affairs, planting moles to gain information. That was part of the reason that their location was so out of the way, in order to maintain a cloak so that the moles wouldn’t be found out, there instead were cautious communiques between them, mostly remote but occasionally there was face to face contact with agents that ran the gauntlet in between.
…
Carter nodded to Hazel, but he didn’t look forward to working closely with Autumn. She was skilled, but brash, and would no doubt let her anger towards him get in the way of the mission. Carter raised his other hand, pointing to the hologram, his voice crackling through his helmet’s comm, “Here, this area on grid G-8 is actually a trash disposal causeway. It’s not shown on any map, but I know it’s there. It will be lightly guarded and lead directly inside. As long as your agent is willing to get a little dirty.”
---
A smile curved on Hazel’s lips. “She’ll be fine. Knives isn’t the squeamish kind. She follows through on orders and never disappoints. It is refreshing to see so much zeal in one so young, and she is quite the atypical teenager.” She chuckled then sobered again. “She will have no hesitations when it comes to a mission, she hates being idle too long. A trait which with she undoubtedly shares with you. She has no qualms on killing those who are in her way, whether it be a soldier or a government agent. But you, however, will be killing your own kind. I hope you will not hesitate when the time comes.” She frowned lightly.
William cleared his throat a little. “I’ll give word ahead for my people to clear out so they aren’t in the crossfire. I will, of course, not reveal their identity...” He gave Carter a guarded look. He could only trust him to a point. “Not even Knives knows who works for us and who works for them. I don’t want casualties.”
Hazel nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll give it another day for the agents to send word ahead of time. I’ll seek out Knives right away for a debriefing.” She looked at Carter. “Stay here and don’t make any trouble.” She ducked out of the tent and left them alone.
William made no attempt on becoming personally acquainted with Carter, he would not willingly volunteer sensitive information. But he did want to clear up a few things.
“Soldier, I hope for your sake you’re not leading us into a trap. I don’t have much reason to trust you, but I won’t let my preconceptions about what you were get into the way of what use you could be to us. Hazel is a dear friend of mine and if you do anything to hurt her, and I am sure you once intended to kill her on sight, I will personally cut off your balls and shove them down your throat before I cut you apart piece by piece and feed you to the wolves. I hope we have an understanding.”
…
Carter shook his head to Hazel, “I never hesitate.” Turning to William he waved a hand dismissively as the leader defended his actions, “I’ve no need for you to reveal anything to me.” As Hazel left he took a position next to the door, awaiting her return, turning his head as William suddenly spoke. “If I intended to harm you or anyone else, it would’ve been done.” Carter had trouble understanding the motivations of the rebels, the emotions behind it all. “But we should be prepared for resistance. They know I have knowledge of these places. However, I should be able to handle anything they throw at us.”
---
William nodded with a sober expression on his face. “Very well. You watch out for Knives, she has a bit of a hair trigger. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped her notice. It wasn’t wise to get on her bad side but I guess it couldn’t be helped. It’s too bad about losing Ratchet, he was a good man. She blames you for his death. It doesn’t matter if it was a part of your mission, she’s going to hold that grudge for the rest of her life. Prove me wrong, soldier.”
Presently, Hazel returned with Knives behind her. Hazel moved aside for Carter but Autumn did not, deliberately knocking into Carter’s shoulder as she moved past. She didn’t say anything, just glared at him.
Hazel nodded to William. “She’s not happy with our choice of partner, but she’ll do it.”
“Show me the map,” she nodded to Carter, at last addressing him with some effort on her part, as if she wanted to ignore his presence all together. She watched as Carter recalled the map, showing the layout of the grid. “You say it isn’t heavily guarded, but do you have an idea of the shift schedule of the causeway? “
“Don’t worry, Knives.” William spoke up. “We’ve worked that out. My people will be cleared out before you move down there, so you don’t have to worry about the targets. It’s not a very large space, the tunnel, but the objective is to get in by any means necessary.”
“Of course,” Autumn nodded, her eyes shifted to Hazel.
“And what is our objective?”
“Once you’re inside, you’re to move through the MediCorps facility through the routes we have chosen for you, with Carter’s assistance, where you’re not likely to meet much resistance. Do not deviate unless absolutely necessary, you’re to follow Carter’s direction since he is more familiar with the patrols.”
Hazel took out blueprints of the MediCorps facility and spread them out on the table. She quickly drew the route lines over the blueprints and circled the target area. “This is where you need to get to. This control room needs to be disabled. It routes many of the functions within the building. A team will be waiting outside here, and once the alarm systems are disabled they’re going to move in. Once you’ve finished, don’t wait to meet up with the team, go directly to the top floor as the assault team distracts their defense squad. You’ll take the service elevator upstairs. This is where the mission really becomes crucial. Your ultimate target is a man named Michael Cowell, but take out as many of his associates as you can. We need to begin to thin out key personnel.”
…
Carter seemingly had no reaction to William’s words on Autumn, it was irrelevant to him if Autumn hated him as long as she could function as a soldier. Watching Autumn carefully as she shoved him, he turned back to Hazel, listening to her instructions. “Understood, ma’am.” He knew the name of Michael Cowell well, but held no personal allegiance. “When do we begin?” Carter looked at Hazel expectantly, looking as if he was ready to go immediately.
---
Hazel looked at William, who addressed Carter. “Give it just a bit of time. I’ll go send the runners now. Hazel and I will fit you with the necessary weapons for the mission. I think you’re going to like what we’ve cooked up.” He grinned and Hazel chuckled.
“William enjoys his toys, he’s brilliant when it comes to modified weaponry.” Hazel gave William a fond look. She did not reveal that he was once one of Utopia’s top engineers, who had abandoned his job when he saw just what his inventions were being used for.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Hazel. You know where I keep my babies.” He chuckled before leaving to give instructions for the runners to give a heads up to his moles.
“I think you’ll appreciate what we have for you, soldier.”
Hazel beckoned for the two of them to follow as she diverted to the armory, which was being guarded. They stood aside as Hazel approached and was given access. Inside, the walls positively bristled with weapons, every inch of the wall weapons were mounted, there were baskets of grenades, crates of ammunition of every type. It may put the government stores to shame. Likely much of it came from there, confiscated during missions and during raids for supplies of every kind.
Hazel took a rifle off of the wall, and it hummed to life in her hands. “I won’t shoot this in here, it’ll destroy the building. We’re to have some target practice, that should take care of your restlessness, Carter.” She handed the rifle to him after powering it down. She pulled down some modified handguns, a sampling of grenades, and a couple more rifles, handing off a few as she loaded them up so that the three of them could carry a good amount of weight. She bent to load an ammunition box with the required ammunition so they could put on quite the show.
She indicated that they should follow and wove her way through the camp towards the outskirts, where a gun range was set up. There were targets of several types, each designed for a specific weapon. Some of the dummies had been patched back together, riddled with bullet holes, chunks missing here and there, and singe marks. Others had miscellaneous coats of armor tugged over the dummies, many of which Carter may recognize. Some were out of date, but they would get the job done. The nearby grenade field had thick walls of cement blocks for protection, and goggles and ear guards were hung on hooks to prevent deafness.
She told them to set everything down and pointed to the first weapon that she had handed Carter. “Try that baby out. I think you’ll like what she does.” Hazel held out an array of grenades to Autumn and walked with her to test out some of the more experimental prototypes. They put on the safety equipment before making ready to deploy them. “I think you’ll like this one knives. Just be sure not to be in the same room when it goes off. You’ll see why.” Hazel turned and flipped up a switch and various electronic devices hummed to life, weapons dismantled down to the bare bones for which they were made to function, and a suit of armor that powered up its regular functions.
Autumn nodded and after audibly giving the warning signal, she detached the pin from the grenade, reared back her arm, and flung it a good distance away before she and Hazel ducked to take cover, dropping into a protective position with their heads tucked into their knees and their hands covering exposed necks.
There wasn’t a loud explosion but instead a crackling of energy. There was a visible pulsation of blue energy in the air as it radiated out into a contained circle. When they stood up again, despite the fact that the power switch was still on, every weapon and the suit of armor had been disabled, their functions rendered neutralized. With that grenade, every enemy would be disarmed and helpless to attack as their own protective suits and weapons would be rendered useless by the pulse.
“Nice,” Autumn grinned, and nodded approvingly. It was clearly one of William’s inventions, because he knew most weapons inside and out, because he was the one that designed them. He also knew most of the prototypes as well that he had created because the suits in use by the government wouldn’t have deviated much at all from his original design. There weren’t many that could have made improvements on his brainchild.
The two of them took off the protective gear and turned their heads to the gun range as they heard rifle fire. “That’s the rifle you handed to Carter...” Autumn said with some awe as she watched it in action, which thrived in Carter’s capable hands.
…
Carter nodded in approval at the rifle he was handed. It was more advanced than the rest of the rebel gear he had seen but it was still made of composite parts - though its configuration was a work of art. He immediately recognized the technology, but he had never tried it before. It was a Nanite-Rifle, the gun fired cartridges filled with tiny nano machines that could eat through almost anything - including flesh. Carter went prone, opening the rifle’s bipod and pulling the gun into position against his shoulder. He reached forward and pulled the bolt, making the rifle light up with a soft whirr. He looked to the side a moment as he heard the EMP grenade go off and his suit’s systems flickered. His armor used bio-electric energy for most of its systems, but a direct EMP blast would still throw him for a loop. Looking back to his rifle, he peered down the scope, placing the reticule over the head of a dummy far down range. Steadying his breathing, he pulled the trigger, the cartridge almost immediately slamming into the dummy. Bright orange bits melted away with a sizzling sound as the dummy’s head and shoulders seemingly burned apart.
Carter sat up and rested the rifle in his lap a moment, patting it approvingly. It was certainly an upgrade from his current rifle, but its ammunition was a little too special to be using for every target. Carter slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked to Hazel, “This gun is impressive, but I need a sidearm. What do you have?”
---
“We have standard issues of everything, of course. If you want something more practical I still have a few for you to try out. As for a handgun, well, you’ll be needing this more than me.” She drew out a weapon out of its holster at her side and flipped it, holding the barrel so that he may grip the butt of it.
“This isn’t so impressive as that rifle, a little over the top I admit, but it does have its uses when the enemy has you on all sides. Those nanos spread out in waves from the target, hitting the next two or three hostiles and do the same to them. This handgun uses bullets that have biologic tips. Take out the magazine and have a look.”
He would see capsules containing a neon green liquid at the tips. “Those eat away at the target from the inside at impact. So it’s not just a bullet wound, it is corrosive. They can’t staunch this kind of flow. It eats away at the point of impact. Bone or flesh, and will also melt away armor, so at the same time they’ll be less protection covering them in a matter y moments.”
…
Carter picked up the pistol, turning it over a few times before dropping the magazine. Their weapons seemed to try to deal as much damage in as few shots as possible, an understandable design point given their situation. He nodded and pulled back the slide, examining the barrell. “Looks like it takes conventional rounds as well, this will work perfectly.” He held the pistol down to his side and it was forced against his leg with a thunk, magnetically securing it.
Carter turned from Hazel and perused the armory more, examining every weapon for defects and applications.
---
“Of course, it is adaptable to most types of ammunition designed for that model, which is why it is so useful. You take what you can get when you’re scavengers like us.”
Hazel folded her arms as Carter perused. “You are welcome to anything, or course. “
Autumn had returned to the weapons shed as well, her hands going over the weapons. She chose two types of handguns and belted a dual sleeve holster to hold them in place. She took down a rifle of her own choosing and slung it over her shoulder with its matching holster, the straps going crosswise over her torso and one around the middle so the rifle would fit snugly against her back with plenty of maneuvering still possible.
…
After having a good look around, Carter made his way back to the entrance - eyeing Autumn as she suited up. “What’s your experience with an infiltration op?”
---
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I go where I’m told to. Most of our maneuvers are assaults, terrorism, raiding to survive. But I have been sent on solitary missions from time to time. When key targets are exposed due to rallies or political meetings, they can’t be on guard all the time. When they’re exposed, I’ve already come and gone before anyone can bat an eye and my target is dead. Quick, quiet, and it really pisses them off.”
…
Carter nodded to her, seemingly satisfied with that explanation enough to not ask her more. He sat down on a nearby bench and took out his weapons, taking them apart and cleaning them carefully, removing every imperfection. Enraptured in his maintenance he seemingly ignored Autumn’s presence, waiting until the time when he would be called for the mission.
---
Autumn bit her tongue, wanting to say more. She suddenly had the urge the scream at him. The only reason she was teaming up with Carter was because they needed him for information. She didn’t want to team up with anyone... not since...
Not since Ratchet. The memories came flooding back in and she lowered her gaze, grief icing her heart. She looked up at Carter briefly. It was perfectly fine with her that he was otherwise occupied, that his eyes were not witnessing this weakness. She turned on her heel and left the armory.
She stalked about, fighting the well of tears that clung to her eyes, wiping them away as soon as they surfaced, ducking her head away from the eyes of others. There was only one person she could talk to, and she all but bolted for what sanctuary might be provided for her. Hazel would have returned to the command tent so that is where she went.
Hazel’s head snapped up when someone came inside. She was about to tell whoever it was to turn around because no one was allowed in here, then she relaxed momentarily when she saw who it was. But when she saw the state Autumn was in, with tears now streaming down her face, she set down what she was doing immediately, closed the tent entrance so that they would not be disturbed and offered open arms.
Autumn felt foolish, but she ran and flung her arms around Hazel so suddenly that Hazel had to plant her feet in order to stand her ground and not lose her balance. She raised a hand and ran it down Autumn’s hair in a soothing gesture. She knew this was coming, Autumn had repressed all feelings for some time thinking she was stronger for it, save anger which usually served her well enough, and with Ratchet dying, well, it proved to be too much for the young woman to handle.
“Shhh...” Hazel talked in a soothing voice. She was pleased that Autumn would come to her for comfort, and it touched her deeply. “It’s alright to cry, Autumn. You can’t hold all this grief inside you, it isn’t healthy. You need your head in the game.”
Autumn nodded a little, burying her head in Hazel’s shoulder so that her face may be hidden for just awhile longer. She needed this moment of weakness, just this one moment.
“I miss him too,” Hazel said sadly. “You two were a good team, helplessly inseparable. You’re not used to being alone. I know you want to be strong, to do everything yourself, but that isn’t always the way to go.”
Hazel took in a breath, not wishing to broach the subject, but she wanted to speak quickly before Autumn pulled away. “I know how you feel about the Rogue, Autumn. But you can’t let that get in the way, not while you’re a team. You need to learn how to let go.”
Autumn started to pull away, her body instantly tensing, and Hazel let her do so. The mother daughter aspect had lasted long enough. Teenage angst had returned. Autumn stumbled back a bit, a feeling of betrayal clear on her face.
“How can you say that?” Autumn sputtered. “How can I let go as if it never happened?”
Hazel shook her head. “No, it did happen. I will not stand here and say otherwise. But nothing can change the fact that he is gone. You’re hurting inside, I know that, but you have to let this go. What do you think Ratchet would have done? He’sdsuck it up and drive on, do the jobs that needed doing. And that’s what you’re going to do. And with a clear head.”
Autumn turned her head away, her cheeks blazing red. But she was considering everything Hazel had said. She gave a final swipe of her nose with the back of her hand. “Ok. I’ll focus on the mission and nothing else. I guess I owe that much to Ratchet.”
“Yes, remember the good things.” Hazel smiled and nodded, raising a hand and squeezing her shoulder. “He loved you like he was your little sister, stubborn and reckless though you may be.”
Autumn laughed a little. “Ok, maybe just a little stubborn.”
“Good girl,” Hazel smiled brilliantly. “Now go on, there is planning to be done.”
“Right,” Autumn made way for the door and paused. “Thanks, Hazel.”
…
When Carter had finally reassembled his weapons, he walked out of the armory and gazed skyward. The sun was beginning to fall and the sky dimmed orange. He made his way to the command tent, pushing through the flap - seeing Hazel alone once more. “If we’re going to do this, I suggest we move out now. There will be a shift change soon.” He craned his head around a moment, “Have you seen Knives?”
---
“She was just here a moment ago, she couldn’t have gone far. She’ll be hanging about for the go ahead.” Hazel looked towards the door just as Knives returned.
Her face was still rather flushed and she had opened her mouth to say something to Hazel before she spotted Carter.
“Oh, it’s you.” She said in an uncharastically calm voice. Her behavior was like night and day. “Can we get a move on?”
Hazel chuckled, how like minded they were in some ways. “Just waiting on William, the runners should be back by now. You say there is a shift change?” Hazel looked at Carter. It had been on of the things on her mind when the four of them had met during the day to make note of the times. “That’s the window we need.”
William returned presently, looking Carter and Autumn over and grinning widely. “All set to go you two?” It was blatantly obvious they were. “There are motorcycles round front. They’ll get you there in a blink.”
…
Carter nodded to William, then to Autumn, heading outside to examine the motorcycles. Making his way to the front of the camp he spotted them, they were old but sturdy enough to hold him. He was a little over five-hundred pounds in his armor. He sat down on one of the cycles, starting the engine and testing it a bit to make sure it would hold him. Looking to Autumn as she situated herself on her own cycle, he looked to Hazel who gave him the okay. Twisting the throttle he sped off into the surrounding forest, making sure Autumn stayed close in tow.
After a little under an hour of travel, Carter stopped and dismounted. They’d have to go part of the way on foot to avoid the noise of the motorcycles. Seeing Autumn stop he signalled her to follow him. The forest surrounding the causeway had been grown intentionally thick to ward away anyone that got curious what was through it. Cutting through it was also out of the question as it would produce too much noise. They were forced to crawl slowly through the underbrush, moving at a snails pace. There wouldn’t be many guards at this hour, but there were perimeter sensors in place to detect intruders. Once they were inside that perimeter, thing would be easier. Crawling through the rough foliage was no issue for Carter in his armor, but he stopped a moment to turn and check on Autumn as they neared the end of the creep.
---
Autumn grinned as she revved up her own motorcycle and sped off after him. She felt like doing a few motorcycle tricks she had picked up but now wasn’t the time. She pulled up fast, turning her bike to skid to a stop and kicked the footrest and followed without a word. She dove into the underbrush after him but being of a considerable smaller size than him, without bulky armor, she was deft and nimble. She froze when he indicated to stop going and resumed quietly. She kept up pace with him well enough, her eyes roaming about here or there, squeezing her smalll body through tight spaces and slowed as he did when they came to the end of the creep.
…
Carter pulled himself up to his knees, gazing through the branches into the clearing where the causeway emptied. One lone guard walked along the edge of the outlet, looking down at the passing sewage, occasionally looking about. Carter turned to Autumn and motioned for her to go in for the kill.
As she moved forward he positioned himself to assist her, either with force or distraction.
---
Autumn nodded and crept forward like a lion stalking its prey. She moved as if one with the shadow, lithe in her movements, drawing out one of her knife slowly as she moved. When she was within striking distance while his back was turned, looking distastefully at the sewage and wrinkling his nose at some thought, she darted forward, put a hand against his mouth to keep him from uttering a noise, and raked her poisoned dagger hard against his neck at the juggler. He moaned out a muffle noise of surprise as he sunk to his knees before she put his hands against his neck and broke it in a deft move to be sure that the job was done.
…
Carter drew his pistol, snapping on a suppressor and moving to join Autumn. Two large oval openings were set within the hillside, pouring out sewage into a drainage canal. Up the openings was a long tunnel leading up to the facility. A small door lead to a catwalk that snaked along with the rushing water. Carter headed to the door and tried the handle, expectedly locked. He motioned for Autumn to search the body, turning up a keycard. Accepting it through a short toss, he swiped it over the door and headed inside with no other contacts in sight. The interior smelled terrible, muck was built up all over the catwalk, and strange moss dangled from parts of the tunnel’s ceiling.
As they neared the top of the ascent Carter spotted another guard, quickly stepping behind a wall. He held his arm out, signaling Autumn to stay put. He raised his pistol to head level and waited as the guard came closer. The guard slowly patrolled around the corner, lining up perfectly with Carter’s shot. With nothing but the sound of a click, the guard slumped down. Carter stepped forward and with one hand threw the body into the rushing water before motioning with his head for them to keep moving.
They finally reached the top, the tunnel emptying out into a warehouse attached to the facility. It was strangely empty, Carter pointed for Autumn to take up a covering position as he made his way slowly around the edge of the room, clearing each corner.
---
She appreciated his skill, and moved in sync with him as if they had been a team for much longer than they had. She had observed military movements before but his experience was a cut above. It wasn’t surprising though, since he had been a Rogue. When he made ready to fire his weapon she studied him with her eyes. She looked away at last when he told her to take position to cover him and was perplexed that the warehouse was empty, something she had not expected. She became guarded and wary. She began to carefully make her way closer to his position, so that she may stay just close enough to give supporting fire if need be, but not so close as to give them away.
…
Suddenly a stream of bullets swept near Carter, a few bouncing off his leg armor. Carter quickly side-stepped behind one of the containers in the room, looking around for the attacker. Then he spotted her; Wolf, another member of Rogue team - he knew her as Liliane. She was an assault specialist, a surgeon with a shotgun. She leapt down from a walkway above, firing a few more shots to keep Carter in cover. “I’ve been sent to kill you.” Her voice came over his comm, sounding very serene. Carter wasn’t sure what command was planning, but he had his orders. Moving quietly to the other side of the crate he readied his pistol, “I understand.” From his hiding place he could see Autumn, and he motioned for her not to help. The closest he had come to expressing anything like a sentiment. His entire life had been spent with his team, they were all genetic siblings, and though there wasn’t anything like a friendship between them he felt it was his responsibility alone to eliminate her. She sported the same armor as him, though slightly more of a feminine shape. The rifle Carter had been given would be his trump card, but he’d have to find the opportunity.
Carter knelt down and picked up a loose piece of pipe, hurling it the way he came. It hit the wall with a loud clang, and Wolf turned slightly toward it. He turned quickly around his cover and started firing rapidly with his pistol, the first few rounds striking against her shoulderplates just missing the mark. Carter kept up the fire, forcing her behind a container while he quickly dropped and loaded another magazine. He heard the sound of movement, looking around quickly before he saw a grenade roll out towards him. She had cooked it, and he was only able to take a few steps back before it detonated, throwing him backwards. He landed on his back roughly, his HUD flickering from the force. Carter then saw her flying through the air towards him, her shotgun pointed straight at his head. He quickly rolled to one side, the blast narrowly missing him, leaving a scorch mark across his helmet. She landed next to him, cracking the floor beneath him. Still prone, Carter kicked his foot forward, knocking her shotgun loose. As he tried to regain his footing she turned and grabbed him under his arms, lifting him off the ground as she prepared to throw him. He drove a knee forward, denting her breastplate and causing her to drop him suddenly. Landing on his feet he reached to his side and brandished a combat knife, swinging it overarm and jamming it into the lining of her neck armor. Wolf audibly grunted as the knife pierced the armor, she didn’t flinch for a moment though. They continued in melee for several minutes, neither one gaining much ground as they traded blow for blow. As they separated for just a moment, Wolf reached up to pull the knife free. Carter dove forward, grabbing the knife with both hands and forcing her to the ground, straddling her chest. He pulled the knife free and held it over his head, preparing to drive it through her visor. Her voice came softly through the comm again, “I’m sorry, Carter.” The unexpected words gave him pause and he froze mid-swing, before he heard a soft beeping. He looked down to see her clutching another grenade. This time there was no time to react, and the blast went off just beneath him. He flew backwards, sliding on his face until he crashed into another container, leaving a large dent, the front of his armor completely blackened and his visor cracked along one side. Not moving for a few moments he groaned and struggled to his feet, stumbling over to Wolf’s body. A crater was blown into her chestplate, a large chunk of her visor missing. He could see the soft glow from her eyes pass away, and he sighed, looking to see if Autumn was still intact.
---
She had done what he told her, bunkered down so that he may have it his way. In the few moments she had seen the female soldier, she knew instantly that she was one of Dagger’s kind and not one of the regulars she was used to fighting. She may very well be out of her league on this one. She peeked over the crate she had paused behind and saw that the battle was not going well for him, but he knew what he was doing, she was sure. But it killed her not to do anything, but providing a distraction would alert the woman to her presence, unless the soldier knew she had been there the whole time. If Dagger failed, she would be next. She gripped the handgun tightly and clenched her teeth, telling herself not to do anything stupid.
Then something occurred to her. That very morning she had hated Dagger for everything that he was, but now... she was actually concerned about him? She blinked then smiled a little. She guessed Hazel had something to do with that. She stiffened at the sound of the second grenade and arched her neck to see if she was dead, or perhaps the both of them. But no, Dagger was still fighting.
In moments, it was all over. He had killed the Rogue. She stood up from her position and walked over to Dagger. He was in a bad state. She frowned lightly, trying to assess the damage. Something of concern crossed her face.
…
Seeing Autumn he looked back down at the corpse of Wolf. He didn’t understand why she said what she did. He looked down at his weapons, and luckily they had not been destroyed by the blast. His HUD lit up with warnings about his medical condition, there were minor fractures and internal bleeding, but it wasn’t enough to kill him - and they would be non-threatening in a few minutes. Gripping his pistol tighter, he roughly motioned to a door leading into the facility proper. With a slight limp he made his way toward it.
---
She almost asked if he was ok to go on, but as he limped on, she knew it was a useless gesture. People like him and her don’t let things like wounds slow them down unless they simply couldn’t get up. And based on their life choices, you were as good as dead if that were to happen. You were then a liability to the team.
But she still worried for him, but as a few minutes passed it didn’t seem so bad, he walked straighter and straighter. So he did heal fast. It was... unnatural. Why should people like her face mortality so easily when these soldiers... these super humans... did not. It was against the natural order of things. She guessed it was simply a matter of point of view, what was wrong and what was right. The symbolism of his very existence was a matter of philosophy. But the people behind his creation, they were to the very core, corrupted and evil. She had been taught this from a very early age. She knew the horror stories, she could not dismiss that point of reality. Dagger had been manufactured to enact their laws and take out the resistance, but did that make him a monster?
Autumn shook her head. This wasn’t the time for this kind of thinking. She nodded to him and walked to the door into the facility, clearing her head of all thought. She pressed her body against the door jam, waiting for him to open it, her pistol ready in her hand to take down the enemy. Enemies like him. She narrowed her eyes and shook herself again. Stop it Autumn, don’t start freaking out. Not here, not now.
…
Carter followed with Autumn, clearing room by room. Predictably, because of the shift change, most of the labs were empty and at this time of the night most of the staff was retired to the barracks. They made their way to the front office, Carter hopped over the counter and checked the directory looking for the office of Michael Cowell. It was the penthouse office of course. Carter signalled to Autumn that he knew the way and they headed for the stairs. As they passed the doors on their way up the stairs they could see multiple labs, most of them outfitted for advanced genetics research and development. Some held tubes containing bodies floating in a blue liquid, no doubt breeding the next generation of the police force.
They reached the top of the stairs, but it stopped before they reached the top floor. Carter turned to Autumn, “He’s in the office on top of the building, there must be a special elevator or access pass.” Carter tried the door but it was locked, it would take ages to find the appropriate key card. Carter’s suit contained high-level access keys for most facilities, but he wasn’t sure if they were still active. If command had revoked them, it would cause an alarm. Carter thought for a moment but decided they were running out of time. He held his hand up to the key card slot and the tiny lights on his glove flashed. The red light on the door blinked a few times then turned green. Carter nodded to Autumn and slowly opened the door.
Inside was another large genetics lab but it seemed to be decommissioned. All the computers and equipment were powered down, the tubes lay empty, documents scattered across desks. Carter took extra caution, slowly walking through the room, making sure there was no ambush in store. As he watched Autumn slowly search the rest of the room, Carter stopped and attempted to access one of the consoles. Sweeping away the dust across the screen he powered it up, the screen buzzed and static flashed on the screen before suddenly a video began playing.
Green letters titled the video in the top left, “Project Ajax Preliminary - Genome Seed” It looked like security camera footage, looking down on a room with a desk, two men seated at it across from each other. One of the men was dressed in a lab coat, writing things down on a clipboard. Across from him was a man dressed in citizen’s clothes, he was handsome, and spoke slyly to the other as they bantered back and forth.
“Congratulations Mr. Durrah, you’ve been selected to provide us with a genetic sample. If you could just sign he-”
“What exactly do you need me to do?” The subject spoke back, the scientist seemed taken aback at being interrupted,
“Well we’ll just take blood and semen samples and you can be on your way. You’ll be compensated of course.”
“Uh-huh, what kind of compensation?” The video then went on for a few more minutes as the subject started haggling with the scientist, attempting to get more money for his time, eventually getting a substantial increase.
Carter crossed his arms, seeing the title in the top left and wondering at its implications. He knew he was created, but he wasn’t sure how - this must have been the man whose DNA was used to seed the creation of the Rogue genome. It wasn’t all that interesting to him though, and he turned from the screen to examine the rest of the room, glancing at Autumn as she passed to look at the video.
---
As Carter walked, Autumn followed, moving at a cautious pace as they moved down the hallway. She paused to look into a few of the doors, even pushing one open when through the window she saw the floating bodies in blue liquid. She gave Carter a motion to hold up and slipped inside to take a closer look. What she witnessed here could provide valuable information.
The room was cold, and her breath came out in puffs. She walked right up to one of the tubes and looked up at one of the bodies, this one a young male. He was breathing through some mechanism, which upon exhaling a string of bubbles rose and broke to the surface at the top of the tube. There was an array of tubing connected to sensors on the body and an intravenous drip connected to the hand. She tilted her head as she leaned a hand against the thick walled glass to try to get a closer look. This particular specimen was perfect in body, as perfect as one could get. His eyes were closed as if sleeping but she swore she could see a bluish glow about them.
Autumn turned her head to look at Carter. Was this man being created as he had been created? She looked around at the others. They looked similar but they were not the same body, features here and there were different. There was one woman too, and she thought of the Rogue that had attacked Dagger not too long ago.
But there wasn’t much time left. She backed away and left the room, nodding to her partner that they may resume. She said nothing of what she had seen because there was nothing to say. The both of them knew exactly what was going on.
Autumn frowned at the key card access panel and checked her pockets for the key card they had before, but she remembered she wasn’t the one carrying it. She watched her partner find the solution and blinked a bit when access was accepted. So he still had access codes. She didn’t know whether the convenience was a good sign or not. Why would this ability go overlooked when he was clearly a security risk?
Autumn chose not to speak on her thoughts on the matter. She silently followed Carter into the genetics lab and was startled to see it abandoned. She moved her eyes over all the equipment and computer panels. None of them were powered on, and there was a thin layer of dust over everything, a few of the larger screens had dust cloths draped over them. She reached out and pulled one of the cloths and let it fall to the floor. Underneath was sophisticated looking equipment. But this lab had clearly not been used for some time. Why had they abandoned it?
She heard the whirring sound as the access panel came to life at Carter’s touch, and looked towards the viewing screen. She slowly came to stand near him as she watched the footage. She did not know either men but whatever was going on seemed a very important matter. Here may be the beginning of Utopia’s genetic research. It had to start somewhere after all. Was this man who agreed to be experimented on the patron of many genetically altered individuals on the planet? Was he even, perhaps, a bloodline relation of Dagger? Her brow knit thoughtfully. She didn’t know if this information would help her at all, though it did provoke questions that she wasn’t able to answer. She was not, after all, a scientist.
…
Carter turned and tossed a messenger bag to Autumn, “Gather up some of the materials here, we’ll put it together back at base.” He opened up his own bag and shoved documents and disks inside then slung it over his neck. A door in the back showed a path to a main hallway. Outside the door, lights were on, this floor was occupied. Carter pressed himself against the wall next to the door, peeking out to examine the hallway. At the end he could see a private elevator behind a security checkpoint. Several guards patrolled the halls and more sat behind the checkpoint. Carter figured it was the access point to Cowell’s office.
Carter motioned for Autumn to take a look before flipping his helmet’s visor to motion tracking. Placing his hand against the wall, he started walking down the length of the lab, waiting until he was parallel with the checkpoint’s location on the other side. Signaling for Autumn to come close, he spoke, “At least 5 guards outside, I’m going to break through the wall here and take out the men at the checkpoint before they can lock the elevator down. Then I’ll stay here and hold the point while you head up and take care of Cowell.” It sounded like a command, but he was clearly waiting for her okay. He took a few steps back, ready to get a running start at the wall.
---
She grabbed the messenger bag thrown to her in midair, opened it and started to shove anything that looked important, as well as an extra bit of tech here and there that wouldn’t be heavy to lift that William would love to get his hands onto. Even if the equipment in the lab wasn’t up to date, he was resourceful, and this would add to the more ancient stock held by rebel hands. She didn’t dally and as soon as he made ready, she slung the bag over her shoulder and followed.
It was blatantly clear that from this point forward, the atmosphere would change dramatically from what they had gotten used to. They were coming closer to the hive and there would be drones about. She paused near the doorway, coming up to only a point, as Carter checked the hallway for enemies. Autumn came closer when indicated and listened to his instructions.
“Right,” she whispered, nodding curtly. She stepped a good distance away and stood ready. An amused smile had crossed her face at what Carter was about to do. This was something she’d like to see him try.
…
Carter took a few more steps back, holstering his weapon. Breaking into a sprint, he charged toward the wall his footfalls thundering loudly and shaking the ground. Bracing his arm, he threw his shoulder forward and crashed into the wall, breaking through a few layers of the metal plating and plaster but not quite breaking through. A few surprised voices could be heard as Carter quietly cursed to himself. With a yell he charged forward again smashing through the wall into the checkpoint and showing the area with bits of metal and plastic. A large metal beam fell across the first guard as Carter tackled the second, quickly shooting him several times in the gut before finishing off the first. Immediately the guards down the hall took cover and began firing.
Carter mashed the button on the elevator before diving behind the checkpoint counter, returning fire with his pistol. It would only be a few minutes before the guards could trigger an alarm. “Knives, now!” The elevator arrived and the doors opened, bullets whizzing past and peppering the wall and interior.
---
The fact that Carter did not break through the wall at the first time was in no way amusing, she was impressed that he had made such a deep indentation initially, a feat that would have broken the bones of any other man. At the second run, Autumn tensed, ready for the signal as she watched through the wall that two guards were already down and the rest were now in crossfire with Carter.
She let in a deep breath and darted as fast as she could, dropping down and rolling on her shoulder to move under the crossfire, and in a moment she was up and running again and dove for the elevator before it closed.
She punched an elevator key for the penthouse floor, where Michael Cowell housed himself. Autumn backed up into the near corner of the elevator, removed one of her grenades, and prepared for the elevator to open again.
A ping announced its arrival shortly before the door opened. But the elevator looked unoccupied. One of Cowell’s personnel went to investigate just as a grenade without its pin started to bounce its way down the hallway. It moments it exploded.
As expected, it took out the power within a certain radius, disabling important systems. Surveillance cameras shut down, electronic locks released, and the weapons and armor that Cowell’s guards were rendered useless. That was when Autumn striked.
She bolted out of the elevator before the smoke began to clear and took out surprised guards before they could blink. Those who had time to react were taken down in that instance of hesitation. There hadn’t been many in her way, Cowell didn’t expect anyone to get this far. Or at least that is how it seemed to her at the time.
The elevator doors closed and the elevator resumed its normal function. Autumn knew that the Rogue would be up presently after he had killed the remaining opposition.
There was no more need for a keycard, not while the systems were down, even as engineers quickly rerouted systems to try to get around the damage that Autumn’s grenade had caused.
She slapped a fresh magazine into her handgun and held it with her right hand while her other removed the second pistol from its holster. She raised her boot and kicked open the most impressive looking door she could find. Cowell was sure to be in there.
She frowned as she saw Cowell himself standing in front of his desk, looking entirely nonchalant as the power came back on around him in small amounts. She ran her eyes over him and side to side, seeing that he must be alone. But believing it was that easy was her downfall.
Autumn later told herself that she should have shot Michael Cowell on sight, right there, from where she was standing. But instead she stepped into the room. That was a grave mistake.
She heard the clicking before she saw the movement as Cowell’s bodyguards stepped out from their hidden positions, and she was met with a small arsenal of weaponry. Instantly she raised her hands after dropping her handguns as one of the barrels pressed against her head, right at the temple. Another was at her back. She had no maneuvering space, everywhere was danger.
Cowell cleared his throat. “Oh, so I was misinformed. You aren’t who I expected at all young lady.” Cowell sounded amused.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Autumn said with a wry smile.
“Oh, I’m not entirely disappointed.” Cowell pushed himself upwards from where he had his hands against the desk edge to lean on. “After all, you’re one of hers I suspect. A rebel, from the look of you.” He shook his head with undisguised disgust. “Not an altered gene in you, what a shame.”
Autumn was not going to ask who he meant. He knew of Hazel, but just how intimately she had no idea. Cowell sighed and motioned to his bodyguards.
“Take her to the interrogation room.” He said, sighing resolutely, or was it with boredom?
Her hands were twisted behind her back in a painful handhold and she gave little resistance, because she knew she had no way of getting out of this, not until her partner got here anyway. She did not volunteer this fact, though Cowell had a smug look on his face. “I’ll be along. Go through the usual process.”
She was unprepared for just how events were going to be played out.
...
The alarm was triggered and a klaxon call reverberated around the hallway in which Carter was taking cover. It was only a matter of moments when backup would arrive. The last guard was praying that they would arrive before he too was dead. He didn’t want to die but he was pinned without much choice in the matter. If he moved, he would be shot. He could only hope but remain a distraction until backup arrived. He maintained enough fire to keep Carter at bay.
“So it seems she wasn’t working alone.” Michael Cowell muttered to himself. “No matter. He pulled up a security screen on his panel to have a look to what they might be dealing with. He was surprised with what he saw. “A Rogue. How amusing.”
He reached over his desk to punch down a button on his intercom to alert security of this new situation. “Send in an Ops team immediately to detain the intruder. Use whatever means necessary, but do try and keep him alive if possible. There are questions that need answering.”
Michael Cowell had no authorization when it came to matters of Rogue Special Ops and he would be required to report the incident, as the intruder was one of their own. But he would still have some time to act on his own agenda before the message was filtered up to Rogue Command.
The Ops team moved in immediately. Their footfalls were not muffled as they stormed down the corridor on both ends to detain the Rogue, high powered rifles on the ready to surround him. They had not been given any order to stand down by command and would treat him as a hostile turncoat. It would not be without a measure of satisfaction as some took their loyalty as a trait of choice. To them, the fact that one of their own had turned traitor, as far as they thought to this point, was a personal slight.
…
Carter pressed the elevator button again but it wouldn’t budge, they must’ve turned it off. He wondered about Autumn, if she had been captured or killed it’d be a deathtrap for him up there. Carter heard the approaching footsteps and reached to his side, retrieving an energy grenade. He clicked the button down and waited for them to approach as the grenade began to whirr. He spotted them stacking up on a corner, getting ready to advance on him. Winding back he hurled the grenade down the hall then ran to the elevator doors. Reaching in between he pulled the doors apart, revealing the elevator shaft. Slipping through, he grabbed onto the maintenance ladder and prepared to climb. Reaching nearby he ripped a pipe from the wall, jamming it against the elevator doors to slow down his pursuers. As he climbed he could hear the faint voices of Autumn and someone else. He cursed, wondering why Autumn was wasting time talking to the man and not killing him. More likely, something was wrong.
As he reached the doors leading to Cowell’s office, he shimmied out to the ledge beneath it. With one hand he reached up and cracked the door, seeing no one in sight. Hoisting the doors open, he pulled himself up and scanned the room. He sensed an ambush, and he was right. A squad of guards emerged and began firing at him, one of them fired a scrambler dart. The dart struck his chest plate, and his suit began malfunctioning. Sparks ran over his armor as the dart sent surges through its systems. Carter grunted as his HUD’s errors obscured his vision and a haze of bullets fell upon him. He couldn’t see Autumn anywhere, he only had one choice.
With a yell he dove backwards through the elevator doors, falling down the shaft. A loud slam reverberated through the shaft and halls as Carter hit the bottom of the shaft. The dart had fallen out at some point, and his suit’s systems rebooted as he pulled himself from the ground. He looked up just as the guards began firing down the shaft, tossing grenades down with him. Shaking off the mild pain he charged into the only door in sight - crashing through into an office hallway. Ducking into a nearby office he took cover behind a corner, waiting to see if he was pursued. “Hazel, do you read?” He spoke over his comm, attempting the frequency Hazel had given for contact.
---
Autumn allowed Cowell’s men to lead her down the hallway, who held her arms in a vise-like grip. She was holding out for her partner to arrive. But she came to a sudden halt when she heard the grenade, which sent a small shudder through the structure, and stopped the guards up short. They tugged violently on her arm to get her going again, and she fought as much as she could to slow them down when she heard movement in the elevator shaft. That gave them all pause.
Then the sound of gunfire. Autumn struggled harder and managed to twist away from one of them. Then a loud thud. Autumn went still and a little pale, afraid that her new partner was dead, but upon hearing more gunfire, she knew that he had not. The smiles of victory faded from her captors faces. She thrashed violently now, planting her feet to deter any further progress, nearly dislocating the arm that held her. Annoyed by the struggle, the man withdrew his handgun and struck Autumn hard in the back of the head. with the butt of it. She went limp and her slight frame was easy enough to drag to the interrogation room.
Back at the rebel camp, Hazel was surprised to hear Carter’s voice over the comm channel. It was only to be used for emergencies. She fitted the headpiece over her head and talked into it. “This is Hazel. Is there a situation, soldier? Did you kill the target?”
Michael Cowell knew that it was just a matter of time before the girl’s partner was brought to him, dead or alive. Even a Rogue wasn’t infallible. It was just a minor nuisance. He could hear the Ops team maneuver through the corridor.
“The Rogue has gone below, sir. We’re in pursuit.”
“Let me know when you have him, dead or alive. I’ll be listening.”
He had no plans to stay where he was when the missing partner could double back and find him in his office. Besides, he had other activities to attend to. Namely, getting information out of a rebel who was little more than a child. He so looked forward to good old fashioned interrogations. He did not feel obligated to follow police procedures. They were too tame for his tastes. Police simply looked the other way when bribes were involved, and he had plenty of money to throw around.
Cowell walked to a panel in the side of his office. He pressed his palm against the panel’s edge, which visually looked to be part of the wall, but was a square sensor with a semi-transparent film to disguise it, which read his palm and confirmed who he was. The panel opened and he was able to walk through a secret access tunnel, lined with a material that could survive a bombing, away from danger. The panel sealed shut behind him looking the very same state it had a moment ago. He was able to walk, without observation, from a respectable business environment into a place where he could carry out more sinister occupations. Namely, his personal research which only he, and a very select few, knew about.
Autumn had been dragged into a stark cell, which was built for only temporary holdings and thus had nothing but four walls of cement stretching higher than one could jump. All of her weapons and personal items had been removed and taken from her, and the cell door had shut tight preventing any means of escape. When Autumn came to, she sat up and gingerly ran her fingers over the swelling behind her head and winced. She lowered her fingers to check for blood but there was none. She got to her feet and immediately looked for a way out, but the only exit was the steel door that did not even echo a knock on it to test its thickness.
She let out a sound of frustration and leaned back against the far wall, crossing her arms. She didn’t have time to think too much on her capture, because the door swung open with a bang. Autumn hadn’t even heard footsteps outside. She kicked herself against the wall as soon as she saw movement and braced her shoulder forward. Who she knocked over in her haste to escape she didn’t know, but she leapt over his prone body and started at a run. There were two ways to go, and she hoped she had picked the right one. Her body slammed against a door as she tried the door handle. It opened easily and she didn’t see that a good sign but in she went. She froze at the doorway, seeing Cowell looking quite amused to see her without an escort. Autumn turned on her heel to go the other way but this time the guard was prepared, and simply shoved his hand into her chest to make her stumble backwards into the very room Cowell had wanted her to be led.
She was spun around, her shoulder seized by a strong hand and shoved down into a seat. Autumn at once tried to get up but the hand slammed her back down again and gripped her shoulder so hard she thought she felt her clavicle crack. She did not move after that, just glared up at Cowell. The bruiser stepped back, crossing his arms.
“What are you going to do with me?” Autumn asked coolly.
“It depends on what you have to tell me and how quickly you do it.”
“Why do you think I will tell you anything?”
Cowell ignored this, his tone smooth, confident he would get his way. He started pacing around her chair, a finger tapping his chin. “
You know, I am quite curious. Why would a Rogue be helping the likes of you? Being a lost cause and all of that.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Autumn shook her head. “I work alone.”
“Someone was trying very hard to get to your position. The fact that he was firing on my own men is suspect enough that he may be your partner.”
“I told you, I work alone. I have no idea who you are talking about.”
Cowell pursed his lips, stopping for a moment.
“Very well, we will get back to that soon enough. I expect the intruder to be captured very soon. Unless we are forced to kill him.”
Cowell watched her face as he said this but Autumn didn’t even flinch.
“You’re one of Hazel’s girls. I can...” he moved his finger around in a small circle. “... sense it about you. A certain naivete. She trusts you, she thought you were good enough to assassinate me. But you didn’t think two steps ahead.” He smirked and tapped his temple. “If you were that good you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“A mistake I intend to remedy.” She cursed herself for the slip up.
“Ah so now we’re getting somewhere.” Cowell smiled brightly.
“However we come back to the fact that you did not do this alone. No rebel could have known the inner workings of this place.” He raised his brow. “But a traitorous Rogue, that is a whole different matter.”
Cowell leaned in to peer close to Autumn’s face, ready to pose a question to her. The bruiser came forward to clutch Autumn’s shoulders, crushing her to the back of the chair. Another made ready to tie Autumn down if she made a move.
And move she did. She reared up a knee and hit Cowell straight in the crotch.
…
“I’ve been cut off from Knives, I sent her up to take out the target but I think she’s been captured. The building is on full alert, escape options limited.” He took note of the window behind him, it was a long drop but it wouldn’t hurt him much. He peeked over the edge of his cover, no one was in sight. Shortly they’d have this whole floor on lockdown, he’d have to do something fast. “I attempted to go after her but they are ready for me. I heard her talking to someone, I think they’re taking her alive. Recommend mission abort, what are your orders?”
---
His report was met with a string of swear words, spoken away from the mouthpiece but still audible. Hazel let out a long sigh, trying to compose herself. From within the command tent, William gave her a quizzical look and Hazel switched on a speaker through which their conversation could be heard.
“It’s Cowell she was talking to, I am certain of it. If she didn’t meet up with you she’s been captured. I did not expect failure, but then again I didn’t think you two would be separated. If she was not able to rendezvous with you she has undoubtedly been captured. Cowell is a sadistic bastard, I don’t know if we’ll be seeing her again.”
There was a few moments of silence. Hazel was upset that they had not killed Michael Cowell but even more so that someone she cared for would likely be tortured for information she would not otherwise be inclined to share. Hazel’s voice was flat as she decided the next action to take.
“Come back to base and make sure you aren’t followed, soldier. We will regroup here at the command tent. You, William and I will explore our options and create a new plan of action.” That was all they could do for now. “Hazel out.”
Hazel switched off the speaker, slammed the headset down onto the table and put a hand over her face. William came behind her and squeezed her shoulder.
“She meant a lot to you, that girl.”
“Yes,” Hazel’s voice was muffled but clearly emotional.
“I don’t know if we can recover her, not without a full out assault.”
Hazel simply nodded, letting her hand drop after trying to rub out the worry on her features. The pit of her stomach was in turmoil. “We still have some advantage if the soldier returns to us alive. We still have his maps. Perhaps we can find another way in, something...”
“What we need to focus on is to eliminate Cowell, not a rescue mission. There is a possibility the girl will find a way to escape on her own.” He offered.
“Even if she does make her way back here, it will likely be because Cowell wants her to. She may be compromised. Dammit, William... don’t you understand? The girl we know as Autumn may not exist by tomorrow. And I don’t mean she will be dead.”
William’s brow knit. “You’re talking about brainwashing.”
Hazel nodded slowly in affirmation.
William sighed and ran a hand over his face. “There is nothing to be done, Hazel. “He said tiredly. “We need to focus on the greater good here, not the life of one individual.”
“Where have I heard that before?” She replied dryly.
…
Cowell let out a long hissing sound and stumbled backwards. The bruiser behind her twisted and struck her so hard she fell out of her chair, then kicked her hard in the stomach and Autumn doubled over into the fetal position where she lay before Cowell could say a word. But Cowell did not disagree with the treatment.
“You little bitch!” Cowell hissed when he caught his breath. “If you don’t want to cooperate then we’ll just have to move on to more persuasive methods.”
Cowell stood up and walked aside to a table on which her belongings were spread as well as the weapons that had been seized from her upon capture. He lifted up one of her knives off the table, examining it for a moment and running a finger down the length of the blade. He turned his eyes towards Autumn’s face and smiled, toying with her, and set it down. Then he picked up the rifle to examine it.
“A crude sort of weapon. I wonder what it does. Shall we find out then?”
Autumn only glared at him. She was in the process of being bound and tied to the chair in which she was sitting, made of a solid oak. Cowell powered up the weapon and walked to the rear of the chair, so that she may not see him. Autumn looked ahead, expecting the worst. He may kill her, but then again, she had not revealed a thing so it was likely he was just toying with her. The barrel of the rifle pressed against the back of her head and left there a few moments. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to pull the trigger.
“Hmm, I think not.” He pulled the weapon back and instead walked around her. He held the rifle up with a shit-faced grin, then lowered the weapon and fired without warning. The bullet pierced her thigh. She gasped and widened her eyes, her mind reeling with the pain. She let out a little moan, but she could not move her hand to staunch the open wound, which pumped out blood at an alarming rate.
Cowell chuckled and nodded to a man, who walked quickly to bind it. “You see what happens when you don’t cooperate. Where should I shoot next, I wonder?” Are you willing to answer my questions now?”
Autumn was shivering in shock and glared at him. Thankfully the magazine had been fitted with regular bullets, or else her flesh would be disintegrating. She did not grace him with a response.
“You are vermin,” he sneered. “You are nothing to me, of course. Why shouldn’t I just kill you? But I need your memories, your erratic, imperfect brain. Your fighting spirit is getting in the way. I just need to find a way to break you down. And rest assured, I’ve had practice in these matters.”
Cowell raised the weapon again, at which Autumn reflexively flinched. “Tell me where you want it this time, I’ll give you a choice.”
A choice? What the fuck mattered where he shot her it would still hurt her. She blinked a little, the words bore into her mind and began to multiply in force. Her eyes darted about, her breathing became quicker, and sweat broke on her brow, all to Cowell’s glee.
“Times up.” Cowell said simply, setting his own twisted set of rules. He raised the rifle upwards, to the side, and shot her next in the shoulder.
Autumn recoiled, her fists gripping against the arms of the chair, letting in a long, shaky breath. This wound too would be bound up quickly, to keep her somewhat in a good state of health.
“Again?” He waved the rifle like it was something she might want.
“No, no.” Autumn said, shaking her head violently. She wasn’t thinking clearly, her mind was muddled by the pain, and an instinctive sense of fear. But what was the question, what was... in her primal delirium she had forgotten what he wanted of her. She just didn’t want to be shot again.
Cowell laughed at this. “Well it seems to be having the right effect anyway,” speaking more to himself than to anyone else. He reached over and returned the rifle to the table, Autumn’s eyes never left it until it was set down. Her eyes flicked back up to his face.
“Now that I seem to have your cooperation, what is your name, girl?”
She blinked up at him, surprised that he had asked. Captors did not bother to get personal with prisoners, their tenuous relationship never lasted long. But at least at the time being he wasn’t calling her vermin.
“Knives.” She replied simply.
‘No, no...” Cowell chuckled and shook his head. “Your real name.”
“I don’t give out my real name, you’ll have to live with that one.” She said flatly.
“Very well, Knives. I suppose this is your namesake then?”
Cowell reached over and picked one of the pair of combat knives resting on the table. Cowell flipped the knife in his hands so that his fingers held the hilt and the flat of the blade rested against his forearm, as one may carry a knife so that it may not catch on anything one passed by. It curiously looked like he was trying to disguise it up his sleeve, but he knew very well that the girl knew he had it. He paced about the room and stopped an arms length away from Autumn. She could hear the blade tapping against his wrist.
Autumn gave him a wry smile. “What do you think?”
“I think it is funny to call yourself something so objectively.” He replied, giving a shrug. “If you were to die, for instance, no one would ever know who you really were. But that is just the point, isn’t it, Knives.”
She simply shrugged, looking away.
“But there is someone who does care, isn’t there?”
Her eyes darted quickly up to his. He smiled sickeningly sweet, in some knowing way.
“Oh, now I’ve hit a vein.” He chortled.
“I have no one.” She fumed back. “You hunt us down and kill us off, just because--”
“Hunt you down?” He said incredulously. “No, you came for me. You got yourself into this, Knives.” Cowell pointed the blade accusingly at her. “You deserve every bit of pain I give you. You would have done the same for me.”
“It would have been a quick death,” she sputtered back. “None of this masochistic torture bullshit. Why don’t you get over with and kill me? I am nothing to you.”
“That is right, you are nothing!” He countered back. “To make things worse, you’re just barely more than a child trying to play in a grown up world. You’re playing with things you don’t understand. Do you believe everything the rebels have told you?”
“I know you’re a monster,” Autumn hissed back. “I have seen it for myself, it isn’t just words! You grow people to fight your wars, you kill people because they are different, you experiment on people that don’t know what they are getting in to. You discard mutations because you can’t bear to have them in this stinking city, even if they are helpless and can’t fend for themselves!”
“But it is all for the--”
“The Greater Good, yeah I know your stupid saying.” She bristled in response. “You use it as a shield to mask the atrocities you commit...”
“That is just about enough out of you, girl--”
“You profit on the misfortunes of others. You...”
“I said shut up!” Cowell raged and reached out to punch her, but in his rage he forgot the knife. It plunged deep into her upper chest. He froze, surprised at what he had done, and released the blade, pulling his hand away.
Autumn was in a state of shock. She sputtered out blood before letting out a long shivering groan, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her body trembled as she looked down to her own familiar knife hilt, the rest of the blade was somewhere inside her. Take it out... please...
Cowell looked around at his men, quickly barking orders. “You, remove the knife and carry her to the surgery room. I’m not going to have her die, not while I still need information about the rebel leader.”
Autumn fell forward into ones waiting arms after the bounds were cut and the knife was taken out from in her and a cloth pressed to the wound on her chest. She was picked up to be carried in haste, because if they let her die Cowell would not be happy. But it wasn’t going to be a public ER she was carried to, but instead the genetics lab.
They lay her onto a metal slab and get to work fixing the damage the wounds have done, tearing out the bullets with pincers and using a device to cauterize the weeping arteries. Their movements had alerted the guards, some having had taken chase to the Rogue, but stood down when they saw it was Cowell’s men.
The team leader looked at the young woman on the slab as they worked over her, her shirt torn open and covered with blood. “Is... everything all right in here?” His voice was mixed with the static that came out in his helmet’s communications. Autumn’s head slowly turned, her eyes clouded with a haze of pain and the drugs they had injected into her. She opened her mouth as if to speak but nothing but a small squeak came out.
“Nothing to see here, I suggest you move on.” Was the cool reply.
“Very well... sir.” The team leader added flatly and moved on with a signal to his team and they continued down the corridor, doing a thorough search by cautiously opening doors and listening for movement as all personnel had been recalled to avoid civilian crossfire as they searched for the intruder. There were no signs of him but they were ordered to do a top and bottom sweep since the target had disappeared.
…
“Roger, I’m on my way.” Carter glanced around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, then reached over and opened the window. Outside he could see Utopia in the distance, below was an open field, the forest in the distance. He could hear the clack of boots on the tile as the guards approached his room. Trying to stay stealthy he climbed out the window and shut it, carefully descending using the edges and window sills. Once he was near 30 feet from the ground he let go and hit the ground, landing on his feet, sending minor debris flying away. He crept through the field, luckily most of the guards had been called inside to comb the building leaving his escape open.
Carter backtracked to the place they had left their motorcycles, making sure they had not been compromised. He paused as he climbed aboard the cycle, looking up at the facility - wondering where they had taken Autumn. He would’ve preferred to make it out with her, but he supposed he didn’t really care what they did with her. He fired up the engine and rode swiftly back to the camp, making sure he was not followed.
Bursting into the command tent he confronted Hazel, “Reporting for duty, ma’am. I recovered this intel from the facility, it’s not much, but we didn’t have room to carry it all.” He tossed his bag onto the table, “Documents and data from one of their genetics labs.”
---
If the guards had heard the impact of his boots upon the ground, there was no indication of pursuit. Either his escape had been unnoticed or the enemy knew that once he was out of the building, he would be hard to track and did not pursue. After all, their orders were to protect Cowell, not hunt down a runner, even if he was a dangerous element.
They were expecting him, William and Hazel. Her eyes followed the bag as he tossed it on the table. She slowly looked up at him. “Take off your helmet, it bothers me to not see someone’s face when I am talking to them.”
As he did so, she crossed the tent in a quick stride to meet him, and promptly slapped Carter hard against the face with the flat of her palm. She raised a finger and pointed it at him accusingly, her face close to his, her words coming out in an angry hiss., her voice increasing in pitch. “That is for losing sight of Autumn. You two were a team. You were supposed to stick together, you were supposed to watch each other’s backs. And now they’re doing who God knows what to her and you let them take her!”
“Easy Hazel,” William voiced carefully. “It isn’t his fault.”
She rounded on William. “Isn’t it?”
Then her form lost its tension, her hands lowered uselessly to her sides, the rage leaving her body as she lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, just… give me a moment.” She turned and ducked out of the tent so that she could get some air.
William watched her go, leaning back against the table, letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, soldier. Autumn was something like daughter to her. She needs to find someone to blame, and I guess it’s you. It’s going to be a while until she lets go, she’s got hope that somehow Autumn will come back to her just the same as she was. But between you and me, I don’t think it is going to happen…”
He stopped leaning and walked towards Carter, stopping near his shoulder. “And between you and me, if Autumn turns against us, I want you to kill her without hesitation. You’re the only one that could.”
William turned again to look at the table. “You said those came from the genetics lab?” He crossed over to open the bag and take out its contents, lifting out a few data discs and wiped off some of the dust. “These are formatted for the older models...” He set them down and pulled out the rest, laying everything out on the table to take stock at what was recovered. He raised up a video tape and brushed off the label with the palm of his hand in order to read it more clearly. Genome Seed, it read.
“Just, where exactly did you get this?” He turned his head to look at Carter, his voice measured, his eyes narrowing a little. “Do you know what this is, soldier?”
…
Carter had a look of confusion on his face as she struck him, looking as if he wasn’t sure why she did it. Hazel had known the risks of the mission, she had even chosen Autumn specifically. He nodded to William, “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.” Looking down at the disk and nodded, “I imagine it has to do with USEC’s cloning programs. Project Ajax was the name of the name of the project that resulted in Team Rogue. That’s all I know.” He was telling the truth, he wasn’t told much about how he was created and with what - simply that it was the case.
---
William had chuckled when Hazel had slapped Carter across the face. Women were emotional things. To a fault, Hazel had thought that everything would have gone as planned, because it had been a good plan. Practically infallible. She had not counted on failure and least of all that one of them may not return.
He turned the tape over in his hands to examine it for faults, and satisfied that it would play, walked over to a canvas divider in the tent and opened it. In a space that took up about a third of the command tent, William had set up a cache of electrical equipment. Archaic as some may be they were still effective, and he prized not only the older models but what new tech he had gotten his hands on.
William fed the tape into a recording device and snapped on a viewing screen, and witnessed the interview between the subject and the cloning team. “I know about Project Ajax, but not much more than you, soldier.”
Based on the date at the bottom of the video, this was recorded during the apex of the genetics program, where enough funding had been raised through the more commercial aspects of research in order to advance into more private sectors. Investors such as Michael Cowell were able to pursue their own interests and thus Project Ajax was birthed, behind the face of MediCorps to which even then he had strong affiliations, and backed by the government, to which Team Rogue had its beginnings.
William looked over his shoulder as Carter joined him. “I think we can use this to our advantage...”
To the public eye, Team Rogue, or superhumans, represents the very ideal of the perfect man, something which the average man or woman could only dream of achieving.
They show up in droves to the genetic research centers, with money meant for retirement plans and college funds, for genetically altered ovum to be implanted into the uterus of females in order to achieve some level of perfection within a birthed child, rather than to naturally birth a child which were seen as pariahs in modern day society. But superhumans themselves were reserved for the military. And all the while MediCorps pockets swelled from these ventures.
“If the public were to know that the genetic stock to create men such as you was derived from a man such as this,” William gestured to the viewing screen on which his image was paused, “imperfect with few redeeming qualities, they would no doubt be shocked and outraged, and turn this revelation against government to which their own lives have been governed. Those bold enough to harbor such indignancy may take a second look at their society’s foundations and rally to our own cause. However Utopia’s citizens, long under the heel of established law of what is right and what is wrong, may not be capable of outright rebellion. But ultimately, the seed would be sown.”
Presently, Hazel rejoined the two of them, looking far more sober and composed. William brought her up to speed on Carter’s findings and a new fire kindled in Hazel’s belly, which touched her eyes with renewed zeal.
“At least some good came out of this mess,” she commented dryly. “We’ve tried to force a revolution down the public’s throat, but up to this point we have used methods of a more aggressive nature. I don’t think that they could turn a blind eye to this.”
William frowned. “The government may dismiss this as a rebel fabrication.”
“But it will be seen, we can deliver that much,” she countered. “If we had access to Utopia’s broadcasts, say the emergency channel, we could present this material to the public’s eye.”
“With our own insights to get the point across,” William added, nodding.
Hazel turned her eyes on Carter. “We’ll need access to the broadcast station. Do you have the means to get us to where we need to go? William could hack into anything, but we’ll need to clear out the station before we can do so, and right under their noses.”
…
Autumn opened her eyes slowly, sensitive to the light. Her head was pounding and the drugs they had injected into her during the surgery was wearing off. She felt every inch of the wound in her chest, and the fiery bite of where the bullets had torn through her flesh, and she was loathe to move her body. But she needed to know where she was. With careful effort, she was able to sit herself up and scoot herself back against the cement wall. She recognized her surroundings as a holding cell, one meant for longer term imprisonment than the first.
She looked at the door as she heard shifting, and a panel in front of steel bars was slid back so she could be observed. Whoever was behind it saw that she was awake and it snapped shut. She heard footsteps echo down the corridor and she knew her imprisonment inside the cell would shortly come to an end. She couldn’t think straight with her head pounding so, but where she would be taken couldn’t be an improvement.
The door unbolted with a clang, and two capable men barged their way in and lifted her to her feet, and presently dragged her, whether she cooperated with her feet or not, into another room. The door through entered was painted red and she caught the words Experimentation Room printed carefully on its surface. The room was stark white and meticulously clean, and looked like an operating room, with surgical equipment laid out on stainless steel tables set up next to a hospital bed. But more imposing in one corner of the room was a curious machine that looked very much like some bastardization of an electric chair paired with one in which you would lie if you were at the dentist. A shudder went through her although she did not know what purpose it might have.
“Strip out of your clothes and put this on,” one ordered gruffly, and tossed a cloth gown to her after they set her down on the hospital bed. It was one of those that opened in the back and was tied shut. “You can do it voluntarily or we will undress you.” There wasn’t much choice in the matter, and her clothes were in a laughable state as they were. So she complied only to maintain some sense of dignity, although the men were intent on watching her so that she did not try anything. So she turned around to disrobe.
Although she folded her clothes carefully, one of the men picked them up and tossed them unceremoniously into a bin after she had finished. It looked like she wouldn’t be wearing them again. She glanced over at a long mirror on one side of the room, and she guessed that it was a one way observation room. She was startled at what she saw. She looked thinner, wan and unkempt. She could only see the wound in her thigh since she was covered in the thin cloth robe, but it had been stitched shut. She gave the mirror a dark look, having the feeling that Cowell may be on the other side, watching her.
There was a quick rapping at the door, and a man wearing a lab coat over scrubs came in with a clipboard. He looked as any doctor would, and treated her not as an individual but instead something to study. He gave her a quick physical, and seemed to not be bothered by the fact that she was wounded, as if this was common practice. He jotted down notes on the clipboard.
“Subject is in good health,” he mumbled to himself. Ha, that was laughable. “Further medical procedures are approved.” He scrawled his signature at the bottom of the paperwork, and clicked his pen shut before shoving it back into his lab coat pocket. Without another word he left the room, clipboard in hand. She had the feeling he was headed next for the observation room to report to whoever was watching.
She waited, humiliated by the poking and prodding, several minutes before a few more personnel filed in, wearing scrubs as well along with gloves and surgical masks, their hair hidden beneath gauze caps. They must want the room to remain as sterile as possible, and they guided her to the creepy looking chair in the corner of the room, strapped her down, and set up an IV at her inner elbow where injections could be made by syringe. An intravenous drip was set up at her upper hand and taped down. Then the cap that looked as if it should belong to an electric chair for executions was fitted over her head.
Autumn closed her eyes, dread running through her body. They were going to experiment on her, she was sure. Maybe brainwash her even. The person she knew as herself may be gone by the end of the day, replaced by whom she dare not think about. A tear welled up in the corner of her closed eyes and she hadn’t the means to wipe it away, so well was she restrained.
…
Carter nodded to Hazel, “I’m aware of it, but the central broadcasting station is in the middle of the city. Have you ever run ops that far in?” The holographic map lit up from his hand and he examined it, “There are some satellite stations farther away where we could upload the transmission but there’s a risk of them cutting it off if they catch on.” With a flick of his hand he scrolled the map towards the center of Utopia, “Security that deep inside will be military-level, not to mention the building itself.” He paused to consider their other options, if they had the equipment they could broadcast from a remote location. It would reach some of the populace but it wouldn’t take long for the government to firewall their signals.
---
Hazel tilted her head vaguely. “We’ve never broken through the main defenses deep within the city, not that we haven’t tried. Usually we target government offices, political meeting houses, and other influential individuals. We don’t usually hunt down military-level security because we’re in and out before they are aware we’re there. We don’t burrow into their nest. But I am sure we can do it, with the right people.”
William had thought along the same lines as Carter. “I could rig together a remote feed, but we’ll have to get to their broadcast tower. I am certain I can prevent their firewalls from blocking our signal by introducing a virus I’ve been cooking up.” He grinned wickedly.
Hazel chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be something, we just need to catch them with their pants down.” She looked back down at the map that Carter had called up. “We won’t have to go into their nest, not far. We’ll only need to get as far as the tower and climb it, patching into their emergency broadcast channel and splitting the signal, just enough for our purpose. Do you think you could do it, soldier?”
“In the meantime, I’ll put together a loop of the video footage supplemented with some of our own. Hazel, I think you should be the one to present it. You’re the face of the cause and you know how to talk their language. If the public will listen, they’ll listen to you.”
Hazel couldn’t help but agree. “We’ll have to keep it short and sweet.”
…
Carter turned and nodded to Hazel, “Aye aye ma’am. If it’s not a problem, I’m going to rest shortly and prepare for the op. I’ll be in the armory.” With a salute he ducked out of the tent and headed towards the armory. Once inside he shelved his rifle, it was his specialty but for this particular mission he’d need something more close quarters. He walked down past rows of guns ‘til he came to a submachinegun he liked the look of. He pulled it down from the shelf and grabbed a few magazines. After testing it out at the range he determined it was perfect for the mission - compact and low-profile, not too flashy. Holstering it over his pack he stored several more magazines then took a seat in the locker room. He hadn’t slept for several days, but he only needed an hour. Carter shut his eyes and prepared for Hazel to call him.
---
William immediately set to work, setting up recording equipment in the command tent. Hazel would stand before the rebel flag and give the speech she had drafted up. He left her to it after turning on the video recorder, and proceeded to the location they had designated outside the rebel camp to set up everything he would need, running power cables to the generator. Beside the broadcasting equipment he patched through a computer with a view screen. He cracked his knuckles before his fingers flew across the keyboard, inputting commands to his viral program, which he would run in synch with the broadcast as it was sent through the patch connected to the city’s broadcast tower.
Hazel knew enough about the tech to use the video editing program to put together a video loop, starting with her speech presentation, and adding the bits of the video footage of the interview that William thought would be the most effective, as well as some other visual triggers compiled from other video tapes, many of which showed classified behind-the-scenes footage of the evolution of Project Ajax and Genome Seed in addition to bugged transmissions from conversations held between Utopian government officials that the public was never meant to hear. It should prove to be quite effective.
When everything was in place, William and Hazel called in Carter to rendezvous in the command tent and give final orders. Carter was handed the signal splitter device, wrapped protectively in the satchel, and instructed on how to mount it. He was also given a communication device so he could keep Hazel and William up to date as all three would be in separate locations.
William would bunker down at the equipment he had set up to send the data through the remote feed and implement his virus to counter the firewall and stall the broadcast team as long as possible. Hazel would stay in the command tent and give orders to Carter as needed. Now all Carter had to do was stay alive long enough to attach the signal splitter to the broadcast tower and signal when it was in place and functioning as it should.
“Best of luck, soldier. Don’t let me down this time.” Hazel said soberly.
After Carter left, Hazel stopped William for a moment. “I’m going to send some of our own men to the city streets. We’ll make it so that they blend in well, and do the same for their weapons. Depending on the outcome, there is no harm on egging the crowd on with some good old fashioned violence. Our men will be there to stir up the hornet’s nest.”
William shook his head a little and chuckled. “You can never stay away from a good fight.”
Hazel let out a long sigh at that. “Unfortunately showing my face too soon may not be such a good idea. I wish I could be there to see their faces.”
“I can tap into the government’s visual feed, make use of their eyes in the sky. I’ll patch it through right here so you can watch what is going on. I’ve made use of it myself.”
Hazel laughed. “You always have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
William grinned at that. “Well, you know me. I tend to like working behind the lines. I leave the more aggressive maneuvers to you.”
“You’re missing out, you know.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps, but I’m not a young man. I’ve already had my share of killing.”
Hazel tilted her head to the side. “Well, to each his own I suppose. We’d better get ready, the Rogue’s a pro, and since he’s working alone this time...” Sadness touched her voice.
William picked up a communicator. “He’ll do it. And if he fails it’s no skin off our backs.”
“Yeah...” This did not comfort Hazel in the least.
…
Michael Cowell lounged in his penthouse office, his feet kicked up to rest on the polished wood desk top, leaning back in his expensive leather chair while his fingers drummed one another. He looked up at the clock, let his feet down so he could sit up straight, and laced his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them, looking expectantly at his office door.
Which opened presently by one of his men. Cowell’s amused smile turned lightly into a frown momentarily. “You’re late.”
Autumn was pushed through the door first, her hands locked in front of her in manacles. She did not wear the clothing she was accustomed to, that had been burned, instead she wore drab civilian clothing. She stumbled forward a bit, then walked into the middle of his office and stopped short. Her forward stare broke as her eyes looked into Cowell’s.
Cowell’s frowned deepened at he looked up at the pair of men who stood behind Autumn, habitually at parade rest. “Manacles?”
“Just a precaution, sir. The procedure went as planned with no complications. She only remembers enough of her rebel life to suit your needs, the rest of her mind is conditioned as per your instructions.”
“Take the manacles off,” he motioned to Autumn. “I want to test her.”
Autumn raised her wrists cooperatively but betrayed no emotion as she did so, and waited with patience as they were removed. She rubbed her wrists when they were free but did little more than that, straightening her body and looking ahead at Cowell in a passive manner.
Cowell studied her face. There was a blankness there but she remained just as sharp as ever. Her eyes were full of the fire he had seen before, but it was not directed at him. To all appearances she was the same as she was before, her personality intact, her wits about her, her experiences. But she had been conditioned to follow Cowell’s orders without question.
And to hate any member of the rebellion as much as she once hated him.
After a time, the smile returned to Cowell’s face.
“Sit down, my dear. We have some talking to do. Please,” he indicated the chair in front of his desk. As she took a seat Cowell nodded to the two men. “You may wait outside.”
“Yes, sir.” They complied without question and cast no second glance, sure now that she would not cause them any trouble, taking the manacles with them.
“Autumn,” Cowell began with a smile as sly as a cat’s. She had given her name in full cooperation. Her intimate name no longer had any emotional meaning. “You may begin by giving an account of what you know of Hazel and her associates, their locations, and any assets of importance you feel are necessary to bring to my attention.”
He picked up a fine ball point pen and held it over his engraved stationary so that he could take notations of what was said worthy of further thought. He motioned that she may begin.
Autumn did so without any feeling of betrayal towards her previous allies In fact she felt a measure of pleasure in doing so, per her conditioning she was rewarded with a small inkling of elation whenever she was any assistance to her master. The opposite would be true in means of punishment, and she would feel a degree of discomfort that could blossom into pain if she fought against her conditioning. An ingenious addition in Cowell’s opinion was the insertion of a tracking chip in her right forearm. If she were to stray for one reason or another they would know where she went, and she didn’t know anything about it.
…
Carter headed out from the camp, using the same motorcycle as before. His mind wandered to the best course of action for getting into the city. He would stick out a great deal in his armor, but his body wasn’t too subtle either. As he sped along the backroads he reached up and felt the cracks in his visor from the fight with Wolf. It was curious that she had attacked him, given his mission - perhaps they hadn’t told the rest of Rogue about it. It was also curious that she had acted alone, without the rest of the team. Carter believed they were probably trying to give him opportunities to prove his loyalty to the rebels, but the Rogues being used like fodder for his undercover op seemed like a waste to him. He wasn’t confident he could kill them all himself, Wolf had nearly taken him out.
Carter neared the city, greeted by the soaring outer wall - the skyscrapers inside peeking over its edge. There were many entrances to the city, some conventional roads led inside but they had many checkpoints along them. Carter recalled a secret entrance that rebels often used, one that connected to an underground network that Rogue had once been charged with clearing out. Most of the secret entrances and tunnels had been blasted shut, but he wagered he could find one that came out into the city somewhere.
He dismounted his motorcycle and headed once again into the forests surrounding Utopia. The entrance was hidden well, a tiny creek snaked up to the wall of the city and where it met a narrow crack in the wall opened. Branches and debris had been placed carefully to mask its presence, but Carter remembered its location. Tossing a branch aside he gazed down the passage. Seeing no lights, he flicked his night vision on and carefully sidled through the crack. It emptied out into one of the cities sewage tunnels. This one had been cut off however, its water-bed lay dry and there was an extreme smell of staleness. Carter could hear vehicles rushing overhead as the tunnel passed beneath the freeway. Suddenly he heard voices, he could see flashlights ahead. He ducked into an alcove as his helmet scanned them. They were USEC grunts, likely pulled the short stick to get stuck patrolling these abandoned tunnels. They were bored, and chatted idly, they wouldn’t be too thorough with their search. Tucking himself against the wall he waited as they slowly passed by. Stepping out behind them, he carefully made his way forward. After coming upon a few crumbled dead ends, Carter found the passage the police had used to get down there. With a deep breath he climbed the stairs towards the street.
---
Carter was given a funny look from a man hunkered down inside the alley, hiding himself from the shame of the public’s eye. He smelled strongly of liquor and piss and wore tattered clothes, either a chronic drunk or a homeless person. It wasn’t exactly the fact that Carter was a Rogue, rarely seen in singles as it was, but the fact that his armor had seen better days. Even stranger, that he was climbing out of a sewer. The man blinked at him and looked at the bottle in his hand, shrugged, and took another swig. He wasn’t one to talk to drunken hallucinations.
…
Michael Cowell had dismissed Autumn after she had told him everything she knew and he couldn’t have been more pleased. Means of torture against captured rebels had given them information in varying degrees. Some insisted to their deaths that they wouldn’t tell Cowell a thing and some had given into the pain and shared their secrets before being killed anyway. That is what had brought on the raid to Hazel’s camp. But it was never enough. But he wouldn’t need to keep captured rebels alive any longer, he would just dispose of them outright, because now he had Autumn. It was a turn of luck in his favor and he would take full advantage of it. He shuffled the notes together and tapped them on the top of the desk to straighten them and placed the pile before him on the desk. He ran a hand lightly against the top page. A turn of luck indeed.
Autumn returned to her holding cell without resistance, and the fact that the holding cell was sparse instead of comfortable did not offend her in any way. She sat down on the slab that was her bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She had a small smile on her face as the rewards of her conditioning still sent shivers through her body. She had been accustomed to their routines, and when meal time came, she did not attempt escape when the door was opened to set the tray down on the floor. She had no reason to escape, her instructions were to wait for further orders and she would do so with patience. After the door had closed and was bolted shut, she approached the food tray and smiled a little. The usual bland fare was replaced with food that one would actually have pleasure in eating. Another small reward for her cooperation.
Michael Cowell had stayed at his office well into the night, his luxury dinner eaten and shoved aside. The ice clinked as it shifted in his small glass of whiskey, which he took sips from every so often. He drummed his fingers on the desktop, reviewing the quickly scrawled notations that he had made while brainstorming, his keen mind working quickly as he finalized his plan. His lips curved into a smile and he finished his whiskey in one long swallow. As he set down the emptied glass, the ice clinking merrily in the bottom, he reached out to depress a button to call his men to bring in the girl.
They did so, Autumn coming in and standing again before Cowell’s desk, staring ahead blankly. He did not dismiss his men but beckoned them to take a seat at one side of the office. With this pair he trusted them to keep his secrets and they had not disappointed him thus far. Besides, he hated to repeat himself. They remained alert, not because of Autumn’s presence, but to hear what their employer had to say.
Autumn looked to be in a calculative state, without the addition of her previous impatience. She need not keep up her guard in Cowell’s presence. But she did still act on her instincts, those that could never be taken from her. She still had her fighting spirit, the finite movements of a killer, and her burning, intense hatred for her enemies. Only now, the tables had turned, and her enemy was not Michael Cowell.
Her instincts told her that she would finally be of use, and she was wired with a restlessness, her hands itching to do the work for which she had been conditioned to do. A killer without a heart, with no reservations, and without the capability for emotional attachment, not even to Cowell. She would simply obey orders and do so to the death.
“As you and I know the circumstances of your previous mission cannot be revoked. We have accounted for much of the data you tried to take from MediCorps, but not all. Since you were in league with the rogue Rogue,” he chuckled at that, “We can only assume that some of the data regarding Project Ajax and Genome Seed has fallen into the rebel leader’s hands. Damage undoubtedly has been done, and I would not have them act upon this circumstance. However, I cannot afford this data to become common knowledge. I cannot have government troops to get their hands on it either. Thus we have a problem.”
“I don’t know how Team Rogue managed to let this Dagger of yours to slip by, and the fact that his treasonous acts have not been extinguished I can only guess that Team Rogue is hiding something from me. I intend to start an investigation in the matter with military colleagues, but even so they may remain tight lipped about the affair.” Then he waved a hand dismissively.
“But I digress. I am sure the rebel leaders by now have acted upon this advantage, although when and how I do not know. Based on what you have told me, Hazel counted on you and the Rogue to complete my assassination, and only you two. Since they no longer have you as a resource they are forced to solely rely on the Rogue, hair trigger though he may be... Wouldn’t I love to pick at his brain and find out his secrets,” he said more to himself.
Cowell frowned. “I don’t know what Hazel is planning but she has undoubtedly sent him back out to our city to enact some plan, taking full advantage of this inconvenience of ours.” He slammed his fist on the table. “I want him found, the Rogue. I will comb the city until he is found and destroy him.”
“But not you, my dear. I have other plans for you. You are going to return to the rebel camp, recover our information, and assassinate Hazel. She tried to kill me using you, and I intend to do the same.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “How heartbreaking it will be to have you as her killer.”
Autumn had barely blinked. The thought held no emotion for her. Cowell was pleased.
He turned his head to address his men. “Call in the troops for a short briefing. I want to get underway immediately.” He rose to stand. “The sooner the Rogue is found, the better.”
“Oh, and Autumn.” He looked at her as he passed her to leave. “Report to the armory, you will find your weapons there. Take an earpiece communicator, you will hear new orders as I see fit. Make use of some Ops armor as well if you are so inclined. You may leave when you are ready. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I would not dare to, sir.” Autumn looked at him blankly. Without another word she followed his orders to the letter. After she was suited up and armed, flipping shut the visor as the suit powered on. She slipped out of the armory and down the hall, walking out into the open streets beyond, free to do as she wished so long as she completed her mission in a timely manner. They trusted her, so thorough had been her conditioning.
She heard the quick paced march as the Ops troops were deployed. Her own Ops armor displayed no insignia and she was not inclined to join their movements. They broke up into groups and spread out to scope out the city, night visors powered on, rifles at the ready. Cowell was sure that the Rogue would be routed out before dawn. Autumn turned away and took her own route through the city.
A curfew had been mandated for the public, and they scurried to their homes as Ops troops combed the streets, unwilling to get in the way, or labeled as sympathisers. The homeless and drug addicts had nowhere to go and thus made themselves as scarce as they could, fleeing to city parks and alleyways. If they were found in passing, they were questioned immediately, and anyone in suspicion was arrested immediately.
The rebels that Hazel herself had deployed had contacts in the city, those of William’s men who acted as moles in the system. They had hidden caches of weapons and ammunition behind walls and underneath the floorboards where they wouldn’t easily be found. And there was hope that if this broadcast was successfully transmitted and seen by the public, that these caches would finally be of use.
…
Carter stalked through the backstreets, careful to avoid being seen as much as he could. Through the narrow gap in the buildings above him he could see the flashing lights of the beacon towering over the city. As he neared the center of the city the security forces came out in force, there were checkpoints on every street and constant patrols. Carter was no stranger to stealth, and had been trained in avoidance several times over what these men were trained in detection. Their sheer numbers however, made up for that. Carter found himself ducked within an alcove, hiding in the shadows as he heard the sound of an approaching patrol. These men weren’t slacking, they were checking their corners, they’d find him if he allowed them to. Carefully sliding a suppressor onto his SMG, he tensed as he prepared to engage them.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, whipping around he saw a shadow in the dark, and it spoke, “Hazel sent me, I can help you get inside the broadcast building.” Carter lowered his gun and examined the man through his night-vision. He looked like any other official from this part of the city, Carter wondered if this man was a convert or just a well disguised rebel agent. With a nod Carter followed the man as he led him into a nearby building, buildings with limited access. They passed through office buildings and apartment complexes, carefully avoiding the patrols and security bots. Finally they entered a building that was very close to his destination, the building was mostly abandoned, which was curious given their proximity to the center of the city. The rebel spoke, “This is as close as I can get you, the security on the ground past this point is nigh-impassable. We’ve left a delivery mechanism for you on the roof, it should help you get the rest of the way.” Carter nodded, heading for the stairs, leaving the rebel somewhat stunned that he wasn’t thanked in some way.
As he climbed the stairwell he heard sirens pass by the building, so far his infiltration had gone perfectly but the hardest part was yet to come. He reached the top floor and carefully opened the roof access, making sure no snipers had been placed but like the rest of the building it was barren. A small crate lay in the center of the roof, and Carter carefully approached it, lifting the tip to peer inside. Inside was some kind of jerry-rigged aerial insertion device, a parachute combined with a tiny propulsion engine. Carter pulled it out and examined it, looking forward at the gap between this building and the broadcast hub. It likely had not been designed to carry someone in full armor, so that had to be accounted for. Carter hooked it up to his suit, stepping away from the edge of the building to get a running start. Breaking into a sprint he stepped up and leapt off the roof, hitting the ignition. The engine was quieter than he expected as it ignited and sent him sailing towards the broadcast station. He glanced below and saw dozens of security personnel and vehicles scurrying back and forth - little did they know all they had to do was look up.
The massive broadcasting building got closer and closer, the roof in sight. The engine started to sputter, it had already used its fuel reserves getting him this far. As it sputtered to a stop he started to lose altitude, this was going to be messy. Carter’s only option was to go crashing through one of the building’s windows, and simply pray he hit a floor where people weren’t working. As he drifted closer he angled downwards, increasing his air speed. Bracing himself he cut the parachute loose, flying towards the building. He smashed through the window, hitting the inside of an office level, sliding across the floor on his back. As he came to a stop he quickly looked around; to his relief the office was dimmed, but in the hallway a light flicked on, someone was coming. Gathering himself he ducked behind a desk and waited, hoping whoever it was would come into the room so he could make sure they didn’t tell anyone what they heard.
---
It was a part time security guard, cracking open the door and clicking on a flashlight. He flashed it around a bit and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand as he had spilled coffee down his shirt when startled by the noise. He stepped inside, walking slowly down the main aisle and paused when he saw the window. The guard frowned and walked towards it to investigate, the light from his flashlight bobbing as he walked. He stepped as far as he dared forward broken glass, his boots crushing bits of it scattered on the floor, and stretched his body so that he could see below. He could see security personnel maneuvering down below, but who they were searching for wasn’t known to him. He turned and flashed his light about, and paused near the desk cubicle that Carter was hiding in, straining his ears for any noise other than his own breathing. He wanted to get back to his sandwich, but protocol told him he had to at least attempt an investigation. The guard let out a long yawn. Or he could leave it to the morning shift to figure this out and he could get back to the slow grind of the night shift. And his sandwich.
…
Autumn walked in full view of the patrols, she had nothing to hide. They didn’t question her further than to ask if she had seen the Rogue. She had not. Seeing that she was in Ops gear, they did not detain her further. Autumn found herself amused at their maneuvers. So many security personnel and nothing to show for it. A curious feeling piqued inside her. She wasn’t even looking for the Rogue, but if she should find him and not Ops, it would be amusing indeed. She surveyed the streets left and right. Non military were nowhere to be found, all were huddled in their homes or inside public buildings. Nothing on the streets other than military vehicles and police, she had never seen the city so deserted. Perhaps it was better this way, because a Rogue was not to be taken lightly. She wondered if any of these men even could fight one on one with her former partner and live. It was unlikely.
Which brought her own survival in mind. She slipped into the darkness far more covertly, her night vision humming to life as she stayed out of the light, her Ops armor painted so that it did not reflect the street lamps and storefront neon. She was in constant awareness in the noise her movements made. Delicious shivers went down her spine. Danger made her feel alive. Did she dare disobey orders and divert her path to find the pest? She was answered by a dull ache in her head, a precursor to what may begin to happen if she did not follow Cowell’s instructions.
“I guess not,” she said through gritted teeth. But she stayed watchful and cautious all the same. She would be able to alert both Cowell and the ground patrol if she detected the Rogue’s presence, but like the others she did not think to look skyward, though the sound of shattering glass gave her pause.
What the hell was that?
For all she knew some idiot had targeted a storefront window while there was no one to watch him. Not that thievery was the best idea at the moment. Still, a snatch and grab was possible. Let the police deal with it. She shrugged and moved on. She had orders to carry out and would do so without further hesitation. She cleared her mind of everything but the quickest path out of Utopia.
…
As the guard gave up his search and headed for the door Carter crept behind him and struck him with the grip of his sidearm, just enough to knock him unconscious. Carter grabbed the man and dragged him behind a desk, shoving him underneath. He carefully entered the hall, looking out for security cameras. The desk at the end of the hall now lay empty, the security team would probably radio in shortly for a status report, so his time was limited. He had only landed a few floors down from the roof, and the security this close to the top wasn’t superb. The stairwell would be full of security cameras, he walked to the security desk and examined the controls. Turning them off would alert security, but it was better than them seeing him on camera - this could be brushed off as a mistake, seeing as the guard was strangely away from his desk.
Flipping a few switches he headed for the stairwell, the cameras within all dimmed. As he neared the top he heard the sound of a door opening below him, likely the security team going to investigate the outage. Increasing his pace, he reached the door to the roof access, but it was secured with a keycard. His old clearance wouldn’t be enough for this door, he’d have to attempt a hack. His suit had built in interfaces, so he held his hand over the card reader and waited, his AI would try its best. After a few moments the lock clicked and the door fell open, he wasn’t home free though, the security forces would’ve seen the roof being accessed in their system - it was crunch time.
Passing through the door, he gazed up at the great broadcast tower, dozens of flashing lights illuminating its shaft. Running to the base of the tower he took out the portable terminal Hazel had given him and wired it into the cable box attached to the tower. The terminal began its diagnostic, “Hazel, I’ve reached the tower, terminal is online, ready for your transmission.”
---
“Good work, soldier.” Hazel sounded genuinely happy. “William, now is your time to shine.”
Got it Hazel, William’s voice was heard over the intercom. Inputting the virus now, beginning transmission...
Hazel lowered the communication device, her eyes now glued to the viewscreen that was tuned into the emergency broadcast, which had thus far been only static...
The signal that an emergency broadcast was about to take place blared from every screen in the city proper. Television sets priced for sale and set along the window fronts snapped off the local programming and tuned into the emergency channel. Screens all over the city, meant for news broadcasts, the stock market exchange, and educational channels in libraries and in museums, and those inside the schools, and homes, all were interrupted. Patrols slowed and let perpetrators go ordering them to get off the streets and back to their houses.
The emergency broadcast was only used in matters of great distress, such as the war on terrorism, breakouts of a contagious disease which had to be quarantined and were zones to stay away from. When updates were necessary, the public speaker speeches were tailored to instruct Utopian citizens on how to react, what to say and do, how to think and feel, and ultimately give their full cooperation towards what the governor thought had to be done, without question.
The public expected the mayor to give some address, or some governor. They were not prepared for the image of the rebel female whose face had been printed on propaganda and wanted posters. Most citizens stopped what they were doing, mouths gaping in disbelief. There was suspicion, there was curiosity, so they remained riveted to the screen, emboldened that they were in the privacy of their own home.
“People of Utopia, I present to you a reality which must be heard. Do not close your ears to what I have to say, for you have long closed your eyes against the tyranny that your government has imposed onto your lives. Open your eyes and witness this truth, I only ask for your consideration.”
Her image was replaced by video footage, her speech now a voice over as images assaulted the public’s eyes. That turned the heads of the patrols on the street and the search progress stalled as many of the troops did the same, looking up at a screen as the rebel leader’s voice rang through the empty streets audibly. Military vehicles guttered to a stop and as the engineer opened the hatch to see why no one was moving he was shushed and directed to look at the screen.
“Your government has kept secrets from you that you have a right to know. They have told you what is right and what is wrong for so long that you have forgotten what it is to think for yourselves. They have passed laws that you have obediently followed.
“And you may say, why not? They have given you safety, they have kept you from sickness, and they have created a perfect world that can rightfully be called Utopia. But you cannot be more wrong. This perfection demands sacrifice, and you have been led like lambs to the slaughter.”
Upon the screen, her voice continued as new images of top secret medical experiments resulting in mutations were witnessed, as well as their immediate execution and disposal. Recordings of natural born children left for dead by starvation or exposure, by terrified mothers and fathers. Military footage of raids sent out to round up rebels, adults and children alike, and taking their men as prisoners to torture.
“You close your eyes to the genocide of hundreds upon hundreds of people who deserve the same rights to life as you, those that the government label as mutations and monsters, discarded by MediCorps’ medical experiments. You deny yourselves natural born children because they tell you that imperfection is a sin, and they too have been discarded. You have denied yourselves the natural evolution that human beings are meant to have, and it once brought us diversity and made each individual unique and special.
“What is unique about humanity is being bred out of us by clones. Carbon copies of what you call the perfect man. And most magnificent of all are the superhumans, the personification of perfection, and the pinnacle of the new generation of man. People of Utopia, we are being led into our own extinction. All for the sake of perfection, all for the sake of the Greater Good. This is what you are led to believe.”
Now it cut to old footage of the early stages of Project Ajax and Genome Seed that Carter himself had recovered, of these superhumans that were being grown in suspension, and the failures being eradicated so that they could start again before they had time to fully mature. Even superhumans could be discarded if they didn’t make the cut, what did that say about the “normals?”
“And the truth I wish to share with you is this. This new race of superhumans are themselves imperfect. They do not come from some divine purpose. You put yourselves under the knife, you donate yourselves to science, you make sacrifice after sacrifice because you are programmed to hate everything that you are. I ask that you open your eyes and realize that what you are is what is right and what is good. Do not forsake yourselves, people of Utopia.
”Is this the very model of perfection that MediCorps would have you believe? Is this what you wish to attain to be? Ask yourselves, is this worth the price you have paid? They have pulled the wool over your eyes... but no longer!”
Finally, the interview between MediCorps and the handsome progenitor. It was quickly seen that his greed outweighed any physical redeeming qualities. He sold himself not in the interest of genetic progression but for money. His goods bartered for, bought and sold, his genes cut and spliced to cookie cutter specifications. Clones. Superhumans.
To know that “perfection” was derived from someone this despicable and self-serving toed the line. Especially since the pubic had sacrificed their own hard earned money to attain this same genetic material that had been advertised as “perfect.” They had seen Superhumans as gods, but now they too were imperfect. The knowledge was unsettling.
The interview was cut short as the firewalls finally cut through the remote feed. But it was too late to revoke what had been seen. Every image displayed cut through their minds, disturbing and too real to be staged by terrorists.
…
Michael Cowell witnessed this broadcast on the giant screen mounted on his expansive, luxurious bathroom. He sputtered in indignation and wrapped a towel around his waist, almost losing his footing on the floor, wet from the shower he had been taking. He practically dove for the telephone in the master bedroom and dialed a number.
“What do you mean you can’t shut it down? A virus?! … No, I don’t care how you do it but you better cut that transmission off and fast or heads are going to roll, starting with yours! … Then goddamn wake him up and get him down there, I want the firewalls up and running! Then why the hell didn’t you do that in the first place?” Cowell slapped a hand over his face and gritted his teeth. “Listen you, if you don’t get that transmission off the air immediately I am going to personally come down to the station and skin you alive!”
He slammed the headset down so hard the polished surface on his bedside table cracked. He started dressing himself feverishly, listening to Hazel’s impudent words from the bathroom. He ducked inside and watched as the screen changed to the interview and ground his teeth.
Hazel. He grabbed a glass on the countertop and was about to throw it when the transmission was brought to an abrupt end. He let in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, set the glass back down, turned and walked back to his phone to contact the head of the Ops team. Cowell was practically foaming at the mouth he was in such a state of rage.
“The Rogue has to be somewhere around the broadcast tower.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. By now most of Utopia knew about the transmission. Who knew what they were saying about it. He had to make preparations for a rebellion.
“I want a full team there to block the exit routes. Yes, fine, bring in the heavy machinery whatever you have to do. Send the remaining ground troops and cooperate with the city police to set up more road blocks. Don’t allow the public time to get restless and start wandering the streets, keep them contained. Yes, make arrests if you must. I want full riot gear... and commander, don’t let the Rogue leave there alive.”
…
As soon as the broadcast had begun, the security team had started to come after him on the roof. He was taking cover behind the tower, keeping them suppressed through the chokepoint. If they tried to run through they’d be shot immediately and they knew it, but they were simply waiting for backup. Sooner or later they’d have the right equipment to flush him out, but Carter already knew he only had one escape route. In the brief moments he had had before they arrived he had scoped out each side of the building, looking for the best place to jump. There was a nearby building whose roof was lower than the broadcast station, much too far for a normal person to survive. He could make it, but just barely, and it would cost him his armor. Firing a few more bursts towards the doorway he started backpedalling towards the side of the building. He heard the whirring of an approaching helicopter and knew he had to be quick. Reaching into his pack he wound up and rolled a grenade towards the door before turning and breaking into a run towards the edge.
Leaping off the side he put his back to the ground and folded his arms, bracing for his impact against the concrete roof. His impact on the roof shook the building to its foundation, causing his more pain than he was used to. The HUD on his helmet flashed red as multiple systems were damaged heavily. The time had come. Pulling himself from the ground he wrapped his hands around his helmet and pulled it off, turning it over and looking at it for a long moment, running his fingers again over the cracks in the visor. With a grunt he hurled it over the edge of the building, then set to removing the rest of the armor. With it finally removed he reached into his pack and retrieved the disguise he had prepared. The were simply clothes, but with a long coat and hood to hide his features. He was still unnaturally tall and his eyes would be a dead giveaway, but it was his best chance.
The building he had landed on was luckily empty, all the employees gone for the night. Moving quickly, he headed down the stairs to the ground floor heading through the exit onto the street, tucking his guns away. He would head for the same way he came in, he was doubtful they had secured it.
---
The rebel who had assisted his entrance was nowhere to be found and would have likely found a place to hide himself as the patrols on the streets thickened. There was a heaviness in the air as Carter crept out into the open, as if before a great storm. The riot police stood in formation on the city streets, and for a few moments everything was still, as if the world was holding its breath.
Whether they had wanted it or not, every citizen had been changed in some way by what was witnessed. Some were full of fear, undecided whether they were willing to accept what had been shown to them or to dismiss it as fabrication. But there were others, who knew that to turn away from these truths would be a lie in itself. Some even felt they had to do something about it, rebellion rising burning hot within their bellies. Feelings of anger, betrayal, and indignation.
There were shouts from the riot police. “Stay in your homes. Return immediately. Do not come any closer or we will be forced to open fire.” Suddenly sounds of gunfire echoed in the streets, breaking the poignant silence. It came from every direction, mostly in the residential areas.
Citizens began to throw stones, or bricks, or anything they could get their hands on at the police. The rebels had made their move, opening fire on the riot police. Weapon caches had been opened and were passed around to their new allies. Something of a stampede started to surge through the streets as the police began to be overwhelmed, bring out their batons and cracking skulls, shooting tear gas, or using their guns. Bodies clashed together in a surging tide.
Emboldened by their actions, surges of elation running through their bodies, they began to destroy public and government properties as they pressed down the avenues towards the government districts, forcing the riot police back or breaking through gaps. Carter himself could easily get lost in the crowd.
…
As the rioting broke out, Carter stayed cool and easily slipped through the crowd, grateful that his mission had actually provided a distraction for his escape. The city had suddenly become a warzone, but Carter continued to make good use of the backstreets, avoiding where the citizens roamed as a mob. Ducking into a safe place he pulled out a headset, fixing it to his ear, “Hazel, looks like your video is having the desired effect. Riots have broken out, the citizens have been armed, they’re giving them hell. I lost my armor in the escape, do I return to base?”
---
Hazel shot William a grin as they listened to Carter’s report inside the command tent. William had joined her as soon as the broadcast had been cut off. She pressed down the communicator button to reply. “If you don’t feel compromised, return to base immediately. Undoubtedly by now Cowell is barking at your heels. I don’t intend him to get his prize...” She hesitated, shooting a look at William. William shook his head and Hazel bit back the compulsion to ask Carter if he had seen Autumn. “Hazel out.”
…
Autumn left the chaos at her back, following a train of thought that led her to backtrack through the creep and come out onto the thin dirt trail where Carter’s motorcycle had been left, just as before. The one she had left days ago had of course been recovered by the rebels when Carter had returned alone. She ran a hand over the handlebars, found keys still in the ignition. She walked around and straddled it and revved it to life.
She didn’t know how much time she had before the Rogue returned to this very spot, and her confiscating the vehicle for her own use would slow him down at the very least, and get her to the rebel camp far more quickly than she had first anticipated. Autumn took off, lowering her body along the body of the motorcycle to maintain top speed, the visor of her helmet still snapped down so the wind did not sting her eyes. Presently, she skidded to a halt about a mile from the camp, letting the engine drone on for a few moments before cutting it off and moving the motorcycle into a thicket of bushes to hide it. She would walk the rest of the way on foot so they did not detect her approach.
She skirted around the camp, moving while darkness of night remained. Inside the camp, most of the rebels would be sleeping. She crossed over the clearing at a low crawl. The tents did not face this side of the Wild where the forest line was congested enough to provide protection, a natural wall of natural savagery.
She saw lights on inside the tents here and there, and crept carefully, listening for stirring and voices. When she did heard rustling about, she ducked behind a shed and waited for the patrol man to pass. She coiled herself to spring and killed the rebel with her knife across his throat. His weapon thudded to the ground as he let out a surprised, choking gurgle. She wiped her knife against his shirt, sheathed it, and continued to shimmy closer to the command tent where she knew Hazel would be. She was racing against time but her stealth was crucial, to catch the rebel leader off guard.
…
In the chaos Carter slipped completely unnoticed through the secret passage, all the guards having been called to help contain the chaos in the streets. He now sat in the woods looking at the clearing where he had left the motorcycle, he held a finger to his ear, “Hazel, do you read? My vehicle is missing.” He paused for a moment, considering the implications, “Only one other person was familiar with this spot.. or a grunt got very lucky.”
A sense of dread swelled into his stomach and he broke into a run towards the rebel base, it would take him hours to reach it on foot.
---
“What?” Hazel knit her brow. There shouldn’t have been anyone there, unless one of William’s men decided to use it, and that was unlikely. It could only mean one thing. Autumn was coming back to the rebel camp. This brought both elation and anxiety. “Get here as soon as you can, I have a bad feeling about this. Hazel out.”
Hazel turned to William, having gone a bit pale, her lips set in a thin line. “Autumn is coming here. She must have escaped...”
William frowned. “Hazel,” he cautioned. “I don’t think she escaped willingly.”
“What do you mean?” She questioned, her voice a little higher pitched than normal.
“You’ve got to face the fact that she may have turned against us, Hazel.”
She searched his eyes, a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “No, she couldn’t. Not ever...” Her voice trailed off in a whisper.
William reached onto the table and retrieved a handgun and flipped it so that the handgrip was facing Hazel. “I suggest you hold on to this.”
Hazel opened and closed her mouth, then tentatively took the handgun and pressed a finger lightly against the safety, her shoulders slumping, finally coming to terms with this possible truth. “I don’t want to kill her.”
“You may not have to,” William shook his head. “I’m going to see that we double patrols.” He ducked out of the command tent to give the order.
Hazel began to shiver, not out of fear. She turned the handgun over and over in her hands as if she was studying it. “I can’t kill her, I won’t kill her. She can’t be against us, not against me, not after everything we went together,,” she mumbled to herself.
…
“Shit,” Autumn gritted her teeth in annoyance as orders spread across the camp to keep their eye out for intruders. They were on to her, she was sure of it. She closed her eyes for a moment, stringing soft curse words, and decided it was wisest to retreat and try again when everyone’s guard was down. Cowell had instructed her to kill the rebel leader, and though it was clear that time was of the essence, he did not say how soon. She retraced her steps towards the edge of the clearing and stepped out of sight into the tangle of green. There, she hunkered down and would wait it out until security again became lax.
…
Michael Cowell sat himself down in a comfortable executive chair inside the conference room at a very large oval table where others were taking their seats. An emergency meeting had been called by the governor of Utopia. Present were military commanders, government officials, and heads of government-backed corporations, such as MediCorps in Cowell’s case. This meeting was in reference not only to discuss the repercussions of the recent terrorist broadcast, as the city was now in lockdown after the riots, and to create a stratagem regarding retaliation against those rebel leaders responsible.
“The breach of security within the broadcast station is being addressed and is currently under investigation. We believe the perpetrator was not acting alone. Personnel with security clearance are being questioned. The point of entry was through a window in the broadcast station’s business offices, and there was a device recovered within the building that suggests the perpetrator used a rather unconventional route through an adjoining building. We are reviewing the files of each employed individual in order to narrow down possible sympathisers but this will take time. Video footage suggests that a Rogue operative, or a terrorist posing as a member of Team Rogue, brought the device into the building. Our security team was unable to apprehend the perpetrator before he managed to escape, but Rogue armor was recovered on the roof of a nearby building.
The armor is identified by an individual named Carter, a member of Team Rogue that has gone missing a week or so ago. This individual had a perfect service record, no known incidents of subordination, no negative mark whatsoever. No member of Team Rogue has willingly gone AWOL so this case is quite puzzling. His superiors are hesitant to volunteer more sensitive information regarding his case so we can only start with what we know.” The military officer who made this report took his seat.
“Cowell, what progress have you made in pinpointing the rebel base?” The governor turned his eyes on him.
Cowell cleared his throat. “Thus far results of questioning are inconclusive. Each rebel gives a different location so I can only assume that they move on from one place to another rather quickly to avoid detection. We are using their last known location as a basis to coordinate our search patterns, but the further we get from the city proper and the borders beyond the larger the grid radius becomes. We can only cover so much of the grid at a time, you see.”
“Hmm, I’d allow you more personnel to join the search but we do have our hands full as it is,” the governor splayed his hands helplessly. “Keeping the peace.”
“This morning there was a crowd in front of one our MediCorps facilities in protest, the amount in property damage is astounding.” A man said as he tapped his pen on a spreadsheet. “Stock prices are plunging. We’re losing thousands by the day.”
“We’ll go bankrupt if we allow the public to continue these tyrades.”
“Once we find the rebels, we’ll use them as an example,” one said hopefully.
“And do what, kill them and create more martyrs?”
“No, we need a confession, that everything they said was fabricated,” another said fervently.
“The rebel leader herself should do the trick.”
Michael Cowell frowned deeply. “The public would know it was forced. We need a different tactic.”
“And what, Mr. Cowell, suggest we do?” All eyes turned on him.
“We need to convince the public they can’t live without us and they will come crawling back, repentant, on their knees. We need to correct their thinking. It’s time we remind them just how much they need us.”
There were murmurs of agreement in the room.
“I see that ideas are already turning in your head, Michael,” the governor mused.
Cowell chuckled. “We’ve made breakthroughs in our pharmaceutical research. I can make use of these advancements to our advantage. The rebels have implanted a sickness into the public, we will simply have to find the cure.”
Curious glances were sent his way.
The governor grinned. “I think you have the right idea, Mr. Cowell. I will leave it to you then.” He stood up. “Gentlemen, coordinate with Mr. Cowell as per his instructions, I give him full access to any resources in the city that he may need. Michael, contact me when you have a game plan.”
“With pleasure, governor.”
…
After several hours had gone by, Carter arrived at the camp, looking only as if he had run a mile. Making his way quickly to the command tent he identified himself before entering, nodding to William as he did. “Any word on the stolen vehicle?” He had done a cursory examination of the camp’s perimeter before coming inside, having seen nothing. “If I may, I suggest we move the camp as soon as possible. If Knives didn’t already give it up to them, the missing vehicle may suggest they already know.”
---
William had nodded off at his workstation, the canvas pulled back to expose him. He snorted awake and slid off his stool, coming into the main tent, rubbing the sleep out of one eye. By then, dawn had come, and neither of them had much sleep that day. Hazel was stretched out on a cot, but she could not sleep for anything, and sat up with weapon still in hand at Carter’s entrance.
William shook his head. “No word, it is still missing.” He fought a yawn, giving his head a shake. “Move the entire camp? Impossible. There are just too many of us. Hazel is top priority, of course. She can’t stay here.”
Hazel snorted. “Neither can you, old man. Where I go you go.”
William chuckled.”Very well, we’ll move what we can and leave the rest behind. They’re pushing us further and further back, you know.”
“But there is progress, we have sympathisers in the city, your men have said as much, William.” Hazel said pointedly.
“Perhaps, but we need time to coordinate, and that can’t happen if they discover us...” he said thoughtfully. “Alright, it’s decided. We’ll break down camp and high tail it out of here. If the little missy is out and about I doubt she’s strike in broad daylight.”
Hazel winced. William shot her a level look. He turned his head and nodded to Carter. “Find her, soldier. Bring her back here one way or another.” His words were weighted, and Hazel was too miserable to notice the hidden meaning inside him. “Hazel, get some sleep. I’ll have Knives brought here as soon as she is found.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll sleep later.”
“William...” she began to protest. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck then resigned herself. “Very well, but wake me the minute she is found.”
…
Carter nodded to William and immediately set to work, heading to the armory. For VIPs he had always been instructed that alive was better than dead, and to that end he retrieved a stun rod and tranquilizer pistol. He holstered the pistol under his coat and held the rod folded against his SMG to hide its presence. It would be impossible to get the drop on her if he attempted to come the jungle looking for her, so he opted for a gamble. He dressed in some of the same colors that the other rebel guards wore and patrolled the perimeter, keeping his hood drawn to hide his features - attempting to appear as just another slightly oblivious guard, a tempting target for Knives. He’d have to draw her in close to incapacitate her.
---
Autumn had settled herself into a huge, gnarled tree. It’s branches were thick with leaves, the berries that hung from the tips of the branches were blood red and very poisonous. No bird perched here but for a moment. The forest was alive with noise, the animals strange and savage. She would be safe in its branches. She had seated herself on a thick branch, her back against the tree trunk, her legs stretched out, knees slightly bent, so that she may be comfortable. Vines and moss grew thickly here and she was well masked from sight. She was patient and silent, her vantage point allowing her to look over the field, some hundred yards from the closest tent.
Patrols had not ventured this close to the forest line. She moved her legs to straddle the branches and leaned forward for a closer look when she saw movement, her hand drawing back some of the foliage. It looked to be a rebel, and it was curious that a hood was drawn to hide his face. She would have thought that a guard, on the alert for her presence, would narrow his peripheral vision in such a manner. Not that it hindered her in the least, in fact it was in her benefit.
If she were to fire upon the patrol to kill him, she would give her position away with the noise of gunfire, and she had no silencer on which to quiet her weapon. She raised her body and balanced herself on the branch, feet planted firmly, and drew one of her knives from its sheath. She balanced the blade between two fingers, aimed for the patrol man, and threw it deftly. The blade flipped through the air in order to bury itself into his flesh.
…
Carter paused for a moment as he heard a rustle in the forest behind him. He heard the singing of the blade as it sailed toward him and he stepped aside at the last second, the blade grazing his arm and cutting a small hole in his coat. He glanced down at the knife buried in the dirt and traced the trajectory. Looking up into the trees he didn’t immediately see her, walking a bit closer to the treeline to have a better look, still acting a little oblivious.
---
Moving closer provided a better target, and she released a second knife almost immediately. She quickly scrambled down the tree as quietly as she could, and as she thudded softly to the ground Autumn darted to the side and removed her handgun from its holster. Before he got a fix on her position, she decided it was necessary to fire, even though the noise would give her away. She cocked back the safety and fired two quick shots through the brush then turned and ran along the treeline as fast as her legs would carry her, not bothering to see if the man was felled.
…
Carter dove behind a tree as soon as he heard the shots, the first whizzing past his head and the second grazing his shoulder. He heard the rustle as she started running through the treeline, and he darted after her, trying to get a clear shot with his tranquilizer. As he started to gain slightly he reached to his belt and hurled a flashbang towards her, hoping to stun her long enough to put her down.
---
The flashbang exploding caused a ringing in her ears and she automatically closed her eyes against the bright light. When she opened them, starts were in her eyes and momentarily she couldn’t see where she was going. But survival told her to keep moving and thus she did, though her wobbly vision didn’t quite catch the tree in time. The truck clipped her shoulder and she lost her balance, her hand moving to catch her fall as she stumbled. She spun around and raised her gun intending to fire again at her pursuer, cornered like a caged animal as the hairs on the back of her neck bristled instinctively.
…
As she began firing he ducked behind a tree quickly, lowering his head as a few bullets sent splinters flying. He peeked out and fired a quick shot with this tranquilizer at her abdomen, ducking back to cover. He kept his hand against the trunk of the tree, ready to give chase if it had missed. He glanced over towards the camp and saw a few more rebel guards closing in having heard the gunshots, Carter silently waving his hand to get them to stay back. In this state, Autumn could easily kill them, and those would be wasted lives.
---
The tranquilizer shot pinged off of the ops armor she was wearing. Her shoulder was radiating with hot pain where she had clipped the tree, the armor there scratched up and lightly dented. As she had spun around ready to fire, she moved the gun’s barrel back and forth, trying to locate her pursuer, who had ducked behind a tree. A few moments passed. She cursed and began to run again, hopping over tree roots that may trip her, ducking under low branches. Bristles and clawing branches scraped over her armor harmlessly. She was making for deeper in the woods ever since she had heard more voices. It would be suicide to follow her, but she was keen on avoiding her pursuer.
She knew that the rebels would move camp, was likely involved in its progress. Her only option was to follow in secret until she had a clear shot of Hazel and she would not divert from that mission unless she was dead. The fact that she was being chased did not rise panic in her, rather annoyance in the fact that this rebel had deterred her from her prize. She needed to shake him and lose him for good, and had no reservations about killing him. Her eyes wavered above her at a large gnarled oak tree, and she used her momentum to spring up and grab a thick branch with her hands and pull herself up deadweight with a grunt. She got a hold of a higher branch and was able to climb up into the thick of it. This is how one evaded dogs. And he was no more than a dog. She planted her feet and held her handgun at the ready to fire at him when he revealed himself.
The rogue patrol, three in all, saw Carter wave and hesitated their pursuit. The senior of them motioned to another and told him to report to William that the intruder had been located, who turned and jogged back to seek him out.
William chose not to disturb Hazel as she slept but ordered two guards to go to the command tent to keep guard, in case the assassin came that way. Hazel was to be protected at all costs.
They were to shoot the intruder on sight without hesitation. Even if Hazel thought Autumn was worth saving, she had clearly turned against them, and would not hesitate to murder them in their beds. The bodies that had been unfortunate to cross Autumn’s path were recovered, a testament to this fact.
The disassemblage of the rebel camp would go on as planned, and their efforts required speed and efficiency, and William hoped that Autumn would either be killed or detained by the time they were ready to move out. He was bleary eyed with fatigue but worked through it.
…
Carter quickly pursued her, moving cover to cover to avoid her fire. As she vaulted up the tree he dove behind a rock, peeking over the edge to gauge her position. Quickly ducking back down he reached to his belt and retrieved a small sphere, lifting it up he pressed an indentation. It started beeping as he winded up and hurled it up towards the branches. After a few moments it gave off a small explosion and expanded into a ten foot net, flying towards Autumn. He was beginning to run out of tools, he knew Hazel would consider him a failure if it came to killing her, and he began to weigh the outcome of this pursuit.
------
The tranquilizer shot pinged off of the ops armor she was wearing. Her shoulder was radiating with hot pain where she had clipped the tree, the armor there scratched up and lightly dented. As she had spun around ready to fire, she moved the gun’s barrel back and forth, trying to locate her pursuer, who had ducked behind a tree. A few moments passed. She cursed and began to run again, hopping over tree roots that may trip her, ducking under low branches. Bristles and clawing branches scraped over her armor harmlessly. She was making for deeper in the woods ever since she had heard more voices. It would be suicide to follow her, but she was keen on avoiding her pursuer.
She knew that the rebels would move camp, was likely involved in its progress. Her only option was to follow in secret until she had a clear shot of Hazel and she would not divert from that mission unless she was dead. The fact that she was being chased did not rise panic in her, rather annoyance in the fact that this rebel had deterred her from her prize. She needed to shake him and lose him for good, and had no reservations about killing him. Her eyes wavered above her at a large gnarled oak tree, and she used her momentum to spring up and grab a thick branch with her hands and pull herself up deadweight with a grunt. She got a hold of a higher branch and was able to climb up into the thick of it. This is how one evaded dogs. And he was no more than a dog. She planted her feet and held her handgun at the ready to fire at him when he revealed himself.
The rogue patrol, three in all, saw Carter wave and hesitated their pursuit. The senior of them motioned to another and told him to report to William that the intruder had been located, who turned and jogged back to seek him out.
William chose not to disturb Hazel as she slept but ordered two guards to go to the command tent to keep guard, in case the assassin came that way. Hazel was to be protected at all costs.
They were to shoot the intruder on sight without hesitation. Even if Hazel thought Autumn was worth saving, she had clearly turned against them, and would not hesitate to murder them in their beds. The bodies that had been unfortunate to cross Autumn’s path were recovered, a testament to this fact.
The disassemblage of the rebel camp would go on as planned, and their efforts required speed and efficiency, and William hoped that Autumn would either be killed or detained by the time they were ready to move out. He was bleary eyed with fatigue but worked through it.
…
Carter quickly pursued her, moving cover to cover to avoid her fire. As she vaulted up the tree he dove behind a rock, peeking over the edge to gauge her position. Quickly ducking back down he reached to his belt and retrieved a small sphere, lifting it up he pressed an indentation. It started beeping as he winded up and hurled it up towards the branches. After a few moments it gave off a small explosion and expanded into a ten foot net, flying towards Autumn. He was beginning to run out of tools, he knew Hazel would consider him a failure if it came to killing her, and he began to weigh the outcome of this pursuit.