Second Sight: Chapter Six: Drop Off, Lights On.
#11 of Second Sight
Location: Arpeggio, Militia Docks.
Time: 00:10am.
Year: 2092, March 1st.
My gun was shaking in my hands. I was sitting in a small black jet, waiting for take-off. Alongside me sat my squad; Cam and Lance. Commander Fisher sat on the opposite side of the jet, folding his arms and leaning back, looking up at the ceiling. Cam gave me a short pat on the arm.
"Don't worry." He whispered. "I was the same on my first mission. Don't get me wrong, the mission turned out fine. Just keep your cool."
I nodded, still looking forward instead of looking at him. I was wearing my usual Arch-Angel outfit, as well as a full-face helmet, with the visor fully drawn. It was pained blue, just like my gun. Only my visor was a different color; jet black. I saw the back hatch of the jet open, and a black Wolf walked in. It was Vincent; he mentioned that he would try and opt for the position of the squad's briefer. I didn't think that he would get the job.
The hatch closed, and I heard the engine begin to hum from quiet to almost deafening. Even through our helmets, we couldn't help but complain about the noise.
"Can't we get a quieter engine?" I heard Lance say through the comms unit. We were all equipped with one, which was implanted in the helmets we wore.
"Don't you ever get tired of complaining?" Fisher asked. I stayed silent and listened to the conversation, just like Cam.
"I'll take that as a no." Lance replied. His voice was always croaky and deep; not surprising for a bear.
"Settle down, you two." Vincent said. "The last thing we need is our own men complaining to each other. We still have a job to do."
The rest of the squad pulled down their visors. I sat still and watched Vincent closely as he repeatedly tapped his helmet until an image came into view over my visor. It looked like a large complex of warehouses. I assumed that everyone had the image on their visors, so I just sat there and looked closely.
"This is Epitaph." Vincent began; "One of the buildings left standing after the Breakdown. It's also one of the prime sites scheduled for demolition so the GUNs can proceed with construction work. We need you to plant charges near the following support beams and set them off, thus leveling the entire complex."
I saw a few support beams start to glow red instead of the usual bright shade of grey. Those must have been the beams we needed to take out.
"I didn't expect the Militia to bend over for the GUNs." Fisher interrupted. "Why do they want US to do the demolition work? Can't they just level the place from the sky?"
"If they could, they would." Vincent growled. "Unfortunately, it's a waste of money. We're much better off going in and planting explosives. It's much cheaper."
"Hear that, Commander? The GUNs are short on pocket money." I heard Cam joke. I laughed quietly; unfortunately, the Commander had heard me.
"Can it, Cam." He barked; "And rookie, you'd best not catch yourself laughing on the battlefield, or you may just slip up."
I growled to myself quietly. I lifted my gun up and held it vertically, the barrel barely touching the roof of the jet.
"You'll each be dropped off separately at four different entrances to the facility." Vincent continued. "I'll keep in contact. Good luck squad."
With that, Vincent stepped forward and into the cockpit of the jet. We all stayed silent and in our seats. We lifted up our visors and exchanged a few glances.
"Would it be too obvious to say that we're being left in the dark, sir?" I asked. "The area's on the surface, so there's a good chance that Epitaph could be a Demon nest."
"That's why we have this." The Commander growled, pulling down a large rifle from the top of the jet. It was striped red and had a barrel large enough to fit my whole arm down it.
"This is the Ravager." He continued; "With the impact of a shotgun, and the accuracy of a regular rifle. These should keep us at even odds."
"They look nice." I said, taking down another one; "But I'd rather stick with my spike rifle."
I placed the gun back, and sat back down. Commander Fisher was giving me a cruel smile, and sat back down. We stayed silent until we heard Vincent over the comms unit.
"We're here." He announced. "So armor up, and get set for a combat drop."
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Location: Wastelands, Epitaph.
Time: 00:30am.
Year: 2092, March 1st.
The drop pods were lined up sideways along the jet. We barely struggled to get inside. It was like a large but thin metal box, equipped with a large parachute. We had to stand up and keep our rifles vertical to fit in. This was my second drop down to the surface; the first being my test of survival less than two months ago. I gripped my gun tight, and closed my eyes, waiting for a sudden bump to indicate my drop off.
I felt It; a short bump. My pod felt as if it was loosening up, and finally it fell. The jet was flying through the dark green sky, so I couldn't see anywhere but downwards. The ground was getting closer and closer, and I was gripping my gun so hard that my hands were starting to ache. After a few seconds of falling, the pod finally slowed down, and made impact.
The impact wasn't as soft as I had thought. It caused me to shake around in the container, and the door to fall off, causing me to tumble out. I got up and brushed the dirt off my clothes. My rifle landed a couple of meters away from me. I walked over to pick it up, when I noticed where I actually was. A tall, rusted metal wall was surrounding me, and in the centre were a half a dozen large warehouses and buildings connected to each other.
"I've landed in Epitaph." I called over my helmet. "I'll see what I can do from here."
"Good work." I heard Vincent say over the comms unit. "The facility has no power. Try and find a generator; give the place some light so you can see what you're doing."
I looked up and saw three dim orange lights overhead. They must have been the other drop pods. I brought my head back down and saw a large warehouse door in front of me. It took a bit of time to slide the doors up and get inside. There were windows, but they were useless in such dark weather. I turned on my floodlight and walked further inside.
The whole room was filled with boxes, crates and containers, all toppled over or broken. I had to climb over more than a few of them to reach a door that lead to a maze of corridors. I kept wandering around, looking for something resembling a generator or main switch.
"Cam checking in." I heard a voice call over my helmet. I jumped, but sighed and continued on, trying to make as little noise as possible.
"Fisher and Lance checking in." I heard another voice call. I didn't jump this time, but replied.
"I'm guessing you two have met up then?" I asked. No one replied, so I continued on with my search.
I finally found a door that read ‘maintenance' on the front. That was my best bet on finding a generator.
"I've found a maintenance room." I called. "Now let's see what I can do."
The room inside was no larger than a closet. Inside were a few tipped over tool kits, and implanted on the wall, a large fuse box. I noticed a large switch to the left of it. I pushed the switch up, and just like that, the lights started to turn on. They were a mixture of blue, red and green, so I figured that the main lights must have shorted out long ago.
"And on the first day." I heard Cam joke; "God said let there be light."
"Maybe you'd rather be a priest, Cam." Lance replied over my helmet.
"Can it, you two." The Commander barked. "Rookie, see if you can find one of those support beams. If not, try and link up with Cam."
I stepped out of the closet, and closed the door. I was still wary about this complex. Something seemed wrong; almost as if...
I twisted around to my left, and pointed my gun down a blue lit corridor. I had heard something. Like a mixture of low growling and screeching, and nails running across the floor. I didn't dare breathe, but listened closely.
I knew from that point that the mission... was about to go to hell.