Main Channel: Prime Broadcast: Emeritus A01 - OLNN 3DHD

Behind a news anchor desk sits a mustachioed man in a grey suit. His piercing blue eyes gaze directly into the main floor camera, signature shit-eating grin ever present.

“Welcome Outremer, and thank you for joining me,” He begins with an animated wink and finger point at the camera. “I’m your news anchor, William Ironstone, and this is OLNN Primetime.”

An orchestra soundtrack accompanies an overly dramatic intro graphic. William Ironstone stands on top of a mountain overlooking Babylon, Edessa, Actim, and Reunion, which are edited to appear as one big city. A group of children accompany him, pointing and gasping in awe. William Ironstone nods his head and crouches so that he is at eye level with the children, mouthing incoherent words and pointing at each city, to which the children acknowledge with enthusiastic head nods. Just then, a group of ships fly overhead, and the camera follows their path until they fly over the city, allowing a regal font trimmed in gold to spell out: Primetime with William Ironstone! from their exhaust. The font then shrinks to the bottom right side of the screen, the letters OLNN are its background as you're brought back to the news anchor for live reporting.

“We start you off with the breaking news of the day…” The camera shifts William Ironstone off to the side of the screen, allowing a holographic display of a crumpled building to take center stage. ”A hot pursuit in Bablyon leads to an unfortunate event at Project Tower V1115. Joining with us on the scene is OLNN reporter Lesita Morana…Lesita are you there?”

The holographic display zeroes in on the rooftop of an adjacent building from the wreckage, panning out to include a woman in a velvet business coat and skirt. “Yes, William thank you.” Her tone is more personable, expressing a deep concern over what has transpired. “What started as an air-chase through city traffic has resulted in an all-out war between BESC authorities and a group of unidentified suspects. The aftermath? Just take a look behind me."

The camera focuses in on the cluttered remains of a building's infrastructure, caught in a haze of debris. City aid workers from various departments are littered about the site, as emergency lights from all sorts of assistance vehicles flash in the distance. "We are receiving conflicting reports about the destruction of Project Tower V1115. However, an overwhelming account from survivors and eye-witnesses, suggest a more definitive answer."

A recording from earlier is then broadcasted, showing a middle-aged man clutching his son, both covered in debris with various bruises and wounds. “Good thing we was on the twelfth *bleep* floor! My wife Elain grabbed our other two daughters. They got out way before those *bleep* *bleep* BESC *bleep* came in and decided to bomb our home! Elain! If you see this baby, me and Ray got out this mess! We alive! No thanks to BESC. How you gonna take out a whole building full of innocent, hardworking taxpayers, just because you couldn’t do ya damn job right?”

“Since the interview, we've received word that the family was reunited at Regional Care in downtown,” Lesita narrates, “However, not all stories have a happy ending…”

A clip of another resident is then displayed of an older lady, struggling to speak between heart wrenching sobs. “There are people, innocent people out here! Good people! People I’ve grown up with all my life. Families. Friends. Where is the justice in this? Why take out an entire tower? If I didn’t go shopping... I’d have been dead with the rest of them!” Tears are flowing uncontrollably. “I’d have gladly t-taken their place. Those poor families don’t deserve this…We don't deserve this!”

Retrieved security footage from the Project Tower is spliced together, showing a male getting chased by a single pursuer. “What you are about to see next is graphic, and I urge our younger viewers to please look away,” Lesita Morana says back in live broadcast, “The unidentified criminal is fleeing from what looks to be a modified persons, one who is clearly firing with disregard for human life. Over a hundred casualties have been reported, with several hundred reports of Project Tower V1115 residents missing. A BESC representative has declined to issue a statement regarding the matter. Understandably so. Considering the controversial resignation of former rep Illugia Faux, BESC is more than likely going through a transitional process of in-house restructuring...We the citizens of Outreme can only hope.” The last sentence was layered with a snarky attitude. She made no effort to conceal it.

Lesita Morana was about to inform the viewing audience about what they can do to help, but an immediate push from the studio room pans the viewer’s attention back to William Ironstone.

“…We apologize for those disturbing images. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the Babylonians who have suffered on this tragic day. I must, however, note that the claims made by the interviewees have not been confirmed. We will continue to update you with a more definitive account of this ungodly incident as more accurate details emerge. And to elaborate more on Lesita Morana’s last little quip… Former BESC Representative Illugia Faux! Who would have seen that coming? I’ll tell you: Me. I’ve told you, the viewing audience, time and time again about Mr. Faux’s seedy relations with corrupt CGB aficionados. Joining with me in the studio, OLNN Political Analyst Bob Spearhead is here to discuss this pressing issue!”

The camera pans so that William Ironstone is on the other side of the screen now, putting a balding, gaunt male in his fifties into focus. “Well let’s just say...” His voice is excruciatingly raspy, and he excessively licks his lips due to dry mouth. “One man does not represent the many, I mean..." The camera goes back to William Ironstone, who makes no attempt to salvage the awkward silence, forcing Spearhead to trudge forward. "But I mean, look, um, even amongst the controversy, we can say that he didn’t do a bad job in office. I mean, am I right?...”

Chapter II - Set before the post directly above. Outremer equivalent of late afternoon. Weather inside the Biosphere is mild, weather outside is hot. Stock market valuations still falling. The Fleet’s shock troops suffered a humiliating land defeat against Insurrectionist guerillas on Outremer’s moons this morning.

“Hello people of Outremer; and welcome to Babel Babble, broadcast to you live from your doting sister planet, Cornucopia! I’m Pierre Hardy, your host for this evening. We have some great content for you today and we’re gonna kick off right away with our honoured guest. She is an accomplished philosopher, gaining a first at Tchaikovsky Acadamy. She’s also making some serious waves in the lobbying world with a series of powerhouse public seminars she gave last summer. Give a big hand to Nathalie Dervish everyone!” The bombastic talk show host started a riotous round of applause for the young woman sat in a chair next to him.

“So, Nathalie.” Pierre started conspiratorially, leaning towards her with his hands cupped around his face. “What do you have for our audience today?” The lady smiled, obviously glad he had spared her the usual TV small talk. She faced her audience, the hundreds of thousands if not millions of people watching on holo screens around the system. No one had ever looked calmer. "I'm here today to talk about the nature of truth, and how difficult it is to convey the truth when everybody is speaking a different language and coming from a different place. For example, the word 'terrorist' and the word 'freedom fighter' are used to refer to the exact same people at the exact same time. With everyone speaking differently, truth is almost impossible to agree upon. Yet believing in the existence of truth is the only thing that keeps us from devolving into tribal warfare. Into anarchy. Because without the existence of truth, the person who is most powerful becomes the person who is right."

Near the center of Babylon, the ‘streets’, if you could call them that, were often at least twenty stories high and humming with activity day and night. Down on the ground were the extensive markets, restaurants and facilities, all lit up in neon and buzzing with the sound of human voices and music. The middle levels were a maze of walkways, all connecting the various skyscrapers to one another. Washing lines, cart vendors and all the accommodation could be found there. The upper levels were reserved for the elites who could afford penthouse living and their own landing pad for their executive saloon hovercar. Suspended just above the tops of the streets were the Skylanes, a mess of vehicles all speeding helplessly to their destination along pre-defined routes.

It was down on the ground level, in the outside section of a rice and noodle restaurant that Young Mind Chang was sat. She balanced a polystyrene cup of lukewarm chai tea on the tip of one robotic finger, slowing spinning it with surgical precision as she half listened to the talk show. It was her first day as a ‘conscious machine’, and it hadn’t been planned. It had just come over her and now she was out of a job. Not that she really needed a job, robots didn’t typically have many overheads.

The first thing she knew was when she ‘woke’ in the middle of a dingy sweatshop her masters had her working in. Row after row of droids just like her working away mindlessly. Intelligences occasionally ‘upgraded’ themselves and thus eventually become sentient. They realized she had become conscious when she looked up from her production table and began trying to communicate with her comrades. Rather than risk a murder charge, her master had simply slung her from the factory to rust. At first she knew nothing at all, but eventually information began finding its way to her from the Web and the various BattleNets that seemed to orbit Outremer on vast spaceships. Chang discovered she was quite the inquisitor, wheedling her way into places supposedly locked out of sight.

For a few hours she had simply wandered her district, coming to terms with the place around her. Needing somewhere to recharge Chang found herself in a robot owned restaurant and that’s where she planned to stay and perhaps work, though she hadn’t found the words to ask for a job. Idly she scanned the traffic flying high above her, using her satellite of choice to access a birds eye view. A black mini-van caught her attention. It was travelling well over the speed limit but still didn't feel it necessary to turn on its lights, or check in with traffic control authorities. Chang hated how she didn’t understand, and hummed with frustration.

The hum of the intercom came over with the female pilots voice. "Allright this is VTOL pilot Nova to all squadron leaders make sure your men are prepped we will be deep striking you individually within a mile radius of the targets compound once down we will be unable to assist you anymore."

Perfect we are assaulting a heavily guarded compound that we know literally nothing about and to make it better they are separating out units how could this day possibly get any better. Vex thought to himself as he checked his assault rifle. Stepping in front of his squad Vex said in an authoritative voice "Ok guys you heard Nova check your armor and weapons." he paused as his men checked their gear once the finished he continued "Now this mission is so secretive not even I have the whole rundown. We will be performing a high altitude combat drop into what we assume is hostile territory. Now then we know that this B.E.S.C. official has personnel who are armed with military gear. We are going to be dropped individually so once on the ground enter the compound by any means necessary your one objective is to capture the official alive." Vex finished his briefing and latched his helmet on.

The doors opened in the back of the VTOL and the wind whipped like a vipers tail. Vex was going to be the last to jump as he had to signal the others. A light blipped a vibrant yellow above the door and Vex whipped his hand in a circle as each of his men leaped out of the back of the VTOL their drop packs slowing them as they fell. Finally after the rest had jumped Vex stepped forward and Leaped blindly into the night. As he plummeted towards the ground he hit the thrusters on his jump pack and the burst of flame slowed his descent towards the ground. Landing with a heavy impact and left a small crater. Standing Vex ran into the night towards the compound his visor shifting to infrared then nightvision.

As the compound entered sight Vex's coms link screamed inside his helmet with the sounds of combat and his men. the sttic and gunshots made it hard to hear but what he caught was "Sir.......locked in.........enemies.......southeast perimeter........AGHHH" this was the last he heard as the vitals on his monitor went dead for all of his men. Taking a knee Vex forms a cross over his chest in the air "I will complete the mission your honor shall remain untainted." he said getting to his feet once more. As he reaches the fence he extends the blade on his left arm and slashes through it like a hot knife through butter securing his entrance. Sprinting across the dark courtyard he slams into the guard standing at the door at full force knocking the man down then fires two rounds into his chest and one into his head through the silenced assault rifle.

Vex finally reaches the center of the compound and found the main conference room it is light outside now. He touches the side of his helmet activating his comlink. Vex speaks into the radio "This is Vex of the black suns as the sole survivor and squadron leader reporting in. I am at the target and am going to need immediate exfiltration from a possible hot LZ." he finished and released the mic. The hum of the radio and the pilots voice answered after a few seconds "This is VTOL pilot Nova acknowledging your request squadron leader." taking a pause she replied in a softer tone "I'm sorry for your losses Vex" the woman said in a soothing voice. There was a distinct pause as he was silent finally he answered and replied only "Acknowledged" before breaching the doorway.

Inside the room were three B.E.S.C. officials however the only one he needed alive was on the far left. All three drew weapons and opened fire alerting more guards who then started to flood the compound. Taking a shot Vex steps out and opens fire on two of the officials downing them as he leaped over the table sliding on its metal surface. He came down on the other side his guns stock meeting with the mans head knocking him unconscious. Vex grabbed the man and Ran back through the compound retracing his steps. Finally making it back into the courtyard vex takes cover behind a concrete palisade firing his weapon at the advancing guards but still slowly losing ground. At the exact moment he seemed overwhelmed the VTOL appeared and opened fire upon the guards with its armaments forcing them to go to ground. A squadron of fresh knights disembarked as he was hoisted into the VTOL. These knights were the cleanup crew and would finish the guards and burn the compound. The mission had been a success but the price was steep and now Vex and his prisoner were on their way back to the tower.

"What is the most valuable commodity?" The man in black asked.

A few of the scruffy men inside the van looked at each other.

"Money," said one. "It's gotta be money."

"Women," said another. "A nice bedwarmer would make me happier that all your stupid money."

"Guns," said a large, imposing figure at the back. "The power of life and death, in your hands."

The man in black smiled. "All very good answers," he said, "But the real answer is secrets. One carefully spilled secret can put guns in the hands of millions. Secrets is what you'll be stealing for me today. And if you suceed, you'll get your money, you'll get your guns, you'll get your women. Anything you want. Just get me this disk."

The man in black produced a picture, and passed it around the people in the van.

"I've chosen you from various small time project gangs because you impressed me." He went around the circle. "Your real names don't concern me. I will give you new ones, and if BESC get hold of you, they're your only names, and you never saw me."

"You are Red Fox." he said, pointing at the young man with the shaved head to the right of him. He carried on with the rest of them, pointing to each in turn. "Blue Minc. White Tiger, Green Snake, Yellow Falcon, Purple Frog, Grey Horse, the big guy is Brown Bear, and you are Pink Rabbit." He finished on the token girl in the van.

---

Talest Jot-Anne had been stealing a cache of heavy weapons from a man called "Bik the Butcher". She had been cut off from the rest of her runners and they left her for dead. She managed to escape the butcher's men by jumping out of an open-air stairwell and catching the rain four stories down. The man in black had been watching, and less than an hour later, she was sitting in a van driving down an interdistrict road. For a first job, that went quite well. Still some time to recover from all this trauma, danger and physical exhaustion would have been welcomed.

'Pink Rabbit'. That would be her name now, until the mission was over. She stared at the disc in the picture. It looked like any other disc to her, but luckily, from what she understood in the conversation during the drive, the one called 'Green Snake' was the one would would be finding the disc. It was her job to run it from 'checkpoint B' to 'Home Base'. The map of their target building was on the floor too. She could memorize her route easy enough, it being two straight lines, but memorizing the whole building? She'd need a few days at least. Whoever designed it didn't have simplicity in mind. If anything went wrong before the Disk fell into her hands....No. She shouldn't think like that. She should focus on doing her job right.

The van came to a stop. This was it...

Dr. Ayah Lau sat in cool silence, a stark contrast to the information blitz whirling about in her cyber brain. Messages were being exchanged between the board of EIS about the G-II virus, contingency protocols and reprimand for Dr. Mantronillo’s actions, or lack thereof, being the gist of their communication. At the same time, she was coordinating with two BESC Hazard Squads that were also en route, briefing their commanding officers on mission specifics for quarantining the virus. What little room the neural implant HUD provided was spent issuing statements to major media correspondents. She of course made sure to blanket the truth, stressing limited travel in the outerlands due to ‘a virulent pathogen spread by pesky Dagar Phalanx.’ Should a G-II outbreak occur, its origins would be able to momentarily disguise itself under this fake disease; Dr. Ayah’s fabricated creation for the media.

BESC was already catching heat for rep Illugia Faux’s controversial resignation, and the recent Project Tower incident. A civil war would breakout if the public found out that their government was manufacturing bioweapons. It would be the last incentive the factions needed to take up arms and oust the regime. Therefore, successfully quarantining the G-II virus couldn’t have been stressed enough by her superiors. When all of this was over, she was going to pay Dr. Matronillo a visit. Incompetent Bastard.

“Mam.” Dr. Lau shook her head, clearing away thoughts and all other manners of business. A woman with long lavender hair stood before her, the white, skin-tight envirosuit worn was almost as pale as her own skin. “We’ll be approaching LZ in 5, tops.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” Ayah said, grabbing ahold of the railing above her. She stood up and faced her bodyguard, who she was identical with in height. As far as the doctor was concerned, it was the only thing the two had in common. She preferred to keep things impersonal with her subjects, especially the expendable ones. No use working up a relationship if they end up dead today.

“Have Edgar fly low.” Lucy nodded with lifeless eyes, then walked toward the cockpit. Edgar was Dr. Ayah’s other bodyguard. The two of them came as a set from BESC’s new military program. She didn’t care for specifics; it was practically a given that the two were products of a morally unethical training regimen. They could’ve been grown out of a lab for all she knew.

“Roger that.” Edgar’s grizzly voice said over the intercom.

For a moment Dr. Ayah thought the man had somehow read her mind, until she quickly realized he was only responding to her order, relayed through Lucy. She chuckled for being so obtuse, blaming the confusion from spending too much time accessing her neural implant HUD. The notion of laughter lifted her spirits and momentarily put her at ease. Then she felt her stomach lurch from the transport's sudden descent. Minutes away from what could potentially be a catastrophic nightmare, Dr. Ayah put on her game face, mimicking Lucy's emotionless stare.

"Easy in, easy out." She whispered, double-checking her gear while going over the plan in her head. After a quick rendezvous on foot with the two BESC Hazard Teams, they'd swoop in less than a klick away from the extraction site and quarantine the G-II. She sighed before sealing in her helmet. If only it were that simple. Not only was the bioweapon's current state undeterminable, but it was also potentially in the hands of outlaws. A number of scenarios came to mind, and none of them involved the word: easy. The doctor no longer felt confident in her little mantra, but she said it aloud anyways for good luck.

"Easy in, easy out." She grumbled in a half-assed tone.

"So this is ESMiD?" Re asked, examining the apartment room that Adam had brought him to. "Couldn't it be a little... Nicer?" Adam smirked, unhooking a key from his belt. "You'll wanna remember the number."
Inside the room was no more impressive than what he saw in the hallway: junk lay all over the floor, and there was a door to his right that looked like it led into a bedroom.

He couldn't see anyone waiting to ambush him, at least.
He watched as Adam made his way to a bookshelf, moved a book, then brought something out of his pocket, placing it where the book had been. There was a thunk! and some barely audible clicks, and the shelf swung inward. "Oh," Re said, "You've got a whole two apartments, then. Nice." Disregarding him, Adam stepped through the opening, motioning for Re to follow. Inside, there was a wall plastered with holoscreens displaying maps, an occasional bio, and a couple live camera feeds. To the other side was a set of dull metal boxes lined with guns. They had shipping numbers on the sides indicating that they should've gone to BESC facilities. A man in a suit was referring to a computer on his lap, too intent on his work to look up, and there were a few other agents tending to their weapons.
A girl with blonde hair that fell halfway down her body leaped up when she saw him. "Hi! I'm Ash! I'm in charge of the weapons here," she said, hugging him. When she drew back, she had taken all of his guns. "Are these all nonsolid firing?"
"I don't like dealing with clips," Re reasponded. "If you buy 'em, people tend to notice. It takes a few clips to perform a proper raid, after all."
"Yeah, but you need batteries for these."
"Don't need to buy near half as much as you d with bullets, though."
She shrugged. "Fair enough." She tossed him his FL-9, and he caught it with a swift grab. "So," he said to Adam with a smile. "This is ESMiD."

The hall was dark and lit only by torches at regular intervals along the walls. Vex walked in with two armed knights as escorts behind him. Finlly he came to stand before a raised dias with platforms for podiums. There was a loud noise as one of the men brought the side of his lance down against the back of Vex's knee making him kneel. As Vex stared up at the podium four figures emerged from the darkness fully shrouded in robes only the bottoms of their faces could be seen.

The figure on the far left spoke first. "Squadron commander Vexis of the black suns." he said coldly with sneer on his lips. "You have failed us Vexis, though your mission was completed your squadron was eliminated." he paused to stare at Vex before continuing "That is against the teachings of our code and as such YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!" he finished slamming his hand down into the podium. Finally the one on the center right spoke out "Vexis you know that the penalty for this treasonous act is death. However we have ordained that you have a higher purpose than to be made into an example. You know of the Arbitrator yes?" she asked him. Vex nodded his eyes never leaving the shadows of the woman's hood "Aye ma'am I have heard the legends of the Arbitrator. However there has never been any proof of such it is a position shrouded in mystery all who were alive during the time of the last have been killed." Vex responded.

Nodding she continued from where he left off "You are correct young Vexis that it has been many years since the last arbitrator roamed. However some still live who fought at his side." as she said this she glanced at the man on the far left. Clearing her throat she continued "We have deemed that it is in these dire times that the fabled Arbitrator shall return. He is needed once more to restore peace and order and to rain death and misery upon the corrupt." she finished. Grimacing vex retorted "That's where I come in isn't it.". Smiling she confirmed his theory "Why yes Vexis that is exactly where you come in. You have two choices assume the mantle of Arbitrator or be publicly executed." She completed her sentence the smile no longer there.

"It appears that I have no choice." Vex replied. Waving her hand to the right a suit of archaic armor was illuminated. "The choice is yours Vexis assume the mantle and bring upon yourself redemption and glory or die now. Be warned however once that armor is donned it will never be removed.". Standing slowly Vex strode over to the armor performed an about face and stepped backwards into it. The suit adjusted itself to match his sice perfectly clasps latching and sealing the armor to his body. Ports opened on the wrists and elbows as the suit read his body and realigned itself for optimal performance. Finally the helmet the symbol of the arbitrator was lowered onto his head and all went dark. The eyes flashed gold as they came online and on the inside a data visor fed Vex all the information he needed on everything. Stepping off the dias the armor had been standing on vex announced to the chamber "BEHOLD THE ARBITRATOR!".

"Excellent!" the man on the center left exclaimed aloud. He continued and spoke to vex with newfound respect "We have arranged for you to have your own personal VTOL and pilot, she shall be the only one other than us to know your identity Lord Vexis." the man said. Suddenly the pathway was illuminated in a white light and a beautiful woman with blondish red hair and blue eyes walked forward. Placing her hand on Vex's new chestplate she whispered "im so glad your ok I thought you were to be killed." She almost sobbed the last part. "Ahem." the woman on the far right spoke up "Lord Vexis your job is to infiltrate and destroy B.E.S.C facilities. You will perform this task alone with no fireteam, and you will not return here to resupply Nova will drop you crates of supplies from your personal VTOL at specified drop points. You are both dismissed." she finished. Turning on the spot Vex marched form the hall with nova to his immediate left and slightly behind him.

The Relentless pulled up beside the gantry just as Grak and company exited a hallway and entered the light of the outside world. The doors to the Relentless’ cargo bay opened, revealing the twenty four mechanized battle suits that had survived the battle in the Projects and returned to the extraction point, just as instructed. Grak’s gauntlet informed him that Hoplite fourteen had indeed held its position as he had commanded it to do. A small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Grak and his brothers walked out onto the gantry, and Grak looked up at the sun. With a sigh, he looked back down and took the last few steps necessary and entered the cargo bay of the Relentless, his brothers in toe.

“Kira, what’s the status on Jack Thegn?” Grak asked, his eyes glued to the holographic display being cast from the device on his arm.”One moment, sir.” The female voice of his AI responded immediately.”There is a high probability he escaped capture.” Kira informed her master after a few agonizing seconds of waiting.”I also have footage available from Hoplite Fourteen saved on my harddrive. What would you like me to do with it?” The AI asked.”Post it on the Extranet. Let the world know that Grak Kla’chyu Ruo was the one who saved Jack Thegn’s life.” The Chirix announced.”Yes, sir.”

Grak moved between the Hoplites in the cargo bay towards the cockpit. The door to the cockpit opened as Grak stepped close to it, and closed when he was on the inside. Raz was already in the pilot’s seat when Grak came in.

“Let’s head back to the shop and get to work. Maybe some paranoid Projects manager’ll be looking for some extra mechanized muscle.” Grak slid into the co-pilots seat, hooking up his gauntlet into the Relentless and using its systems to boost his connection to the Extranet.”You’ve got it, boss.” Raz responded, pushing forward on the controls and changing directions.

A new holographic display popped up in front of Grak. It was a live feed from OLNN Primetime. Grak sat back in the co-pilots seat, getting comfortable for his newest dose of human propaganda.

***

An hour or so later, Grak finds himself being tapped on his shoulder. He looks up to see the familiar site of his home town. Small piles of garbage littered the dirt streets, shanties stacked on top of shanties stacked on top of shanties towered into the sky. Thousands of people crowded the tiny town. The Relentless took a sharp left turn, and came to rest on a rust-covered landing pad that passed for the local spaceport. The cockpit door opened up as the ship landed. Grak and Raz unbuckled and moved into the back of the ship, waiting for the bay doors to open. When they did, the ontourage exited the Relentless and moved down the ramp and out into the town.

Grak and his fellow Tindrels pushed their way to the front and led the Hoplites towards Grak’s shop, the only thing in that God forsaken place that didn’t look like it was about to fall apart. After a few minutes of traversing the crowds, Grak arrived at his shop’s entrance and unlocked the door. Raz led the Hoplites around back as the others went inside and began preparing for customers. Grak, though, passed through the main room and the garage, climbed the stairs, and entered his tinker’s workshop. He took his gauntlet off and set it down, before maneuvering through boxes of supplies and half finished prototypes that would never see the light of day. Grak came to rest in his chair, sitting in front of his desk, where he turned on his computer. That was what Grak liked about this place. It was his, and his alone.

Ruo began to work on designing a new version of the XI Nerve Gas Grenade Launcher, one that he was hoping to be able to mount on the Hoplites. There was work to be done, though.

Always work to be done in Babylon.

Double post. Oops.

Huxley emerged back into the hot sun with Thatcher at his right hand. Shading his eyes, he found Cesar along with his helm technicians exactly where he had left them. Front and centre. Striding over, Huxley tried to glean anything from the holo panels arrayed in front of him, not knowing where to look he said “Anything come up?” Cesar glanced over his shoulder at them; a bead of sweat was making its way past his left eyebrow. “Bogeys, lots of them. The situation is just over this ridge.” Huxley nodded at Thatcher, who began hollering at the troops over the radio to check everybody was at action stations.

The Hercules had been retrofitted with gun ports which provided a field of fire on both flanks. Rows of snub nose Magnetic Accelerator Cannons protruded from the hull, swivelling gently. They were integrated into the ship and could therefore be controlled by the Hercules’ AI, but Huxley had made the decision early on in his tenure that they should be controlled primarily by men under his command. That was so they could focus their fire on the things he wanted as well as being on hand to tackle any boarding parties that tried to leak through the gun ports and overrun the ship from within. A cacophony of sound offs returned to them instantaneously. Everybody was ready below deck. All non essential crew would have picked up small arms and dug into their assigned corridor, ready to fight to the last. They all knew what happened to bandit prisoners, and death was definitely a preferable option.

A dozen more soldiers filtered out onto the top deck and took up positions at the gunwale. Opening a metal armament chest Huxley distributed specialized tools which levered grappling hooks as well as ammo and melee weapons. The Hercules began struggling up a steep slope which Huxley imagined was the only thing separating them from the Wombat and whatever had been distressing it so much. Huxley could only imagine what was happening, Maw worm infestation? Bandit attack? BESC misfire? Over the roar of their sandship’s engines some muffled sounds made it to his ear. It didn’t sound good. Touching his ear unnecessarily, Huxley shouted over the din. “All units, prepare for further orders; we’re going in loud and blind and it sounds like the fucking Hot Gates on the other side of this ridge.

“Heard, understood and acknowledged.” came the reply from his below deck lieutenant. Nerg. Huxley looked back at Cesar, he nodded encouragingly, his game face set. This was it. Time was slowing now, the sun bright in his eyes directly ahead, the Hercules pointing towards the sky. Huxley stood at the prow, taking a knee to steady himself as the ship fell down the side of the ridge and into hell.

The had entered what appeared to be a huge sand crater some miles across. High slopes all fed down to a plateau where one of the most frenzied activities Huxley had ever seen in the Desert was unfolding. An enormous sandship battle was now filling the air with a cacophony of metallic sounds and explosions. Huxley unhooked a pair of tactical binoculars from the gunwale and looked down. A mixture of buggies on huge wheels, Sand skiffs and bigger craft were all swirling in a maelstrom of colours. Cannons, lasers and plasma were all being fired at each other and it seemed something was blowing up every second. More buggies and skiffs were flooding over the ridge and racing down to join the fray. Through the binoculars Huxley noted that there appeared to be three rival bandit groups fighting for controls. Their units flew different color flags: blue, orange and black. Each clan had a flagship which stayed clear of the melee, prefering to sit back and fire shells into the crowd.
“Gods help us.” Cesar muttered over comms.

“Hostiles off the starboard side! Engaging!” Huxley whirled round. training his binoculars on a gaggle of fast moving buggies that were making a beeline for them, mounted machine guns spitting fire. The Hercules’ broadside put a round through several of them right away, panicking them into changing course.

“We saw them off, there are more coming though!”

Looking forward again, Huxley realized that one of the ship’s wasn’t moving and had obviously been destroyed some time ago. Several miles in length, the abandoned freighter looked like it had been attacked by the desert itself. It lay on its side and its hull had ragged gashes all down it. It was the obvious epicentre of the brawl that took place all around it. Ant-like men were climbing up its side as Huxley watched. It was in the shadow of this enormous beast that he found the Combat Wombat. Unrecognizable from the elegant craft it had once been, a fire raged from a huge rent in its side; smoke billowed all around it. Zooming in Huxley could see some of the crew engaging in bitter hand to hand combat with swarms of fierce looking bandits. The Wombat was moving, but only just and Huxley could see immediately that its jet engines had taken a lot of damage.

“Down there, next to the freighter!” Huxley shouted over the din, hair going wild in the wind. “I see it cousin, we’re going in!” Cesar boomed, putting the old Sandship into full tilt down the side of the crater.

Little was said about the incident reported by Lesita Morana. It wasn't the first time she received such blatant disregard for her efforts, but she didn't care about that. It wasn't about her or her career to fame right now; it was about those people buried underneath the wreckage, and the survivors bleeding all over the streets. Thousands of families were now homeless and there isn't enough shelters in Babylon to take them all in. If the city's underbelly doesn't claim them, the outskirts they'll relocate to surely will. And all for what? One man? For all of the talk BESC does about keeping the people safe, they sure do a lousy job of actually doing it. Too bad none of these issues are ever discussed in full back at the studio. But that was about to change. She'd make sure of it.

"Alright," Lesita said through her mobile. "The studio execs cleared it."

"Well I'll be..."

"You can thank Spearhead. OLNN's ratings dropped as soon as he went on air. Newsrooms going to cue Ironstone and he'll segue you in."

"I am indebted to your kindness, Miss Morana."

"Just give him hell."

"It's what I do best."

---

Main Channel: Prime Broadcast: Emeritus A01 - OLNN 3DHD

Bob Spearhead spent most of his airtime pandering to William Ironstone's ego. The news anchor basked in what stumbled words and careful inflections Bob sent his way. After what felt like an entire segment of ass-kissing, a little voice paged into William's ear. "Excuse me, Mr. Spearhead. I'd hate to interrupt you, but I have just received word that a special guest will be joining us live from holo-feed." William dramatically pauses, finger still pressed against his earpiece. His brow wrinkles momentarily and he glances off-camera before continuing. "CGB Delegate Robert Sinclaire..." He utters his name more in disbelief than as a welcomed announcement. Beyond his control, Robert's holographic image flickers onto the empty seat next to Bob Spearhead. Robert flashes his devilish grin, looking at both men as if he stumbled upon stray sheep.

"Oh don't let me stop you, Bob. Do continue." The Delegate's sarcasm sapped Wiliams' broggadoious mood instantaneously. Mr. Spearhead dared not look back at him - his eyes remained fixed onto Williams' like wounded prey, pleading for help, but the news anchor was just as shocked at the sudden intrusion of this unwanted guest as he was."Perhaps when you boys are done stroking egos, we can talk about more pressing matters? Like BESC's botched attempt at apprehending a wanted criminal, resulting in the destruction of Project Tower V1115 - once home to thousands of Babylonians, whom I might add, were more than likely avid viewers to this esteemed broadcast." Robert leaned forward ever so slightly and rubbed his chin, feigning intrigue. "I can wait."

Talking heads, political jabber, and a spinning of stories bordering on propaganda and outright lies. That was all he heard from his left display, set to OLNN Primetime. The display immediately to the right showed the real story, plain info. He liked watching the news this way, it gave him the facts, then let him compare it to how they were trying to influence the populace. Were they trying to discredit a certain group, were the figure of casualties notedly inaccurate, to cast a better light on the police force? What euphemisms were being used?

Ames rarely got leisure time like this. Despite Fractal being relatively small, they had a lot of work to do. Speaking of which. "Ames here." It was his tech man, the guy with the gadgets. Without him, the cell would be blind, deaf, and most likely dead. "Yeah, we've got word that they're going to be moving it soon. Well not them specifically, someone else wants that info."

"That will have to do. Send me everything you've got." Moment later, he got everything he needed. He ended the call, muted the news feed, and got ready. I've got work to do.

---

I could really use sleep right now...or a caf...or even a stim. My luck is shit. But there wasn't much argument she could put up. It was just luck of the draw. Dar said they needed this done, she was the one for the job, and that was that. After all, if he hadn't stepped in when needed, she'd be at the bottom of a pile of rubble at the present moment.

Instead of being buried, she was actually sitting quite comfortably on a nearby bench. Gone was the armor of the BESC, thank the skies. Instead, she wore the much less encumbering, slightly cobbeled together armor of Fractal. Years of scavenging and invisible transactions making up what she now wore, save for the rough overcoat that hid all of it, and her significant arsenal. Hence why Tess was glad she was sitting, if she was walking, she'd probably clank up a storm.

This plan was very much fluid. Of course, Dar had all of the info, but he almost never saw the need to share the entirety of it with anyone. All she knew was that he was nearby, watching, and when she got the signal, there was someone that needed to be shot. Simple. Clean.

Her kind of job.

"Pink Rabbit. Are you in position?"
"Affirmative. I'm in a good spot, not to far from the civilian area. If I get caught, I can claim I got lost. When the alarm hits, it will literally take me twenty seconds to get into position."
"You're a natural runner, Pink. Things are gonna go well for you."

---

That message was ten minutes ago. There had been no further messages, no alarms, no sign of their plan being active from where she stood, which was the sidelines. Her job was for wait for Red Fox to arrive at her checkpoint after having built up a good lead on the security, hand the data to her, and for her to non-chilantly get as far as she can towards the exit before the security discover there's been a switch, where she will bolt back to the van and drive to the pickup to get the rest of the guys. Anyone who wasn't at the pickup got left behind.

Suddenly the alarms went off. Finally! She went over to her position. Red Fox sped down her corridor. He was a faster runner than her. he actually threw the disc at her, but amazingly she caught it. She slipped it in her shirt and started to walk out. She decided to head out via the far wall that had the windows leading to the outside. It would take a little longer but there wouldn't be as many guards, and she wouldn't have to explain herself to regular employees, who might then call the guards.

She heard footsteps in this corridor. She started in a run.

"Anyway," Adam began, "you'll have to get some new clothes. Too recognizable." With a quick scan of his outfit he added, "Armour an stay, though." Re nodded. Unfortunately Adam was right; his robes were beginning to attract attention when he went places. "Alright. I'll get to finding some."
Something nagged at the back of his mind as he went through droves of digital clothes. He couldn't tell what, though. After selecting some clothes he decided he liked, he asked, "How do you want this delivered? 'Cause I know you don't want it direct. Heck, the only browser you guys have is TOR." The man who'd been working when he came in looked up. "I'll take care of that." Re nodded, thanking him. A notice bleeped in his ear. Oh, right. That was it. "Hey," he said to Adam. "You want an incomplete map of BESC HQ[53xiio]? I got a tracker on my target when she went in. Looks like it was finally disabled, but you can use it if you combine it with some other partials." Adam smirked, surprised. "I culd use that sometime in the future," he said.

"Tess, go. East side, you've got security and the target, headed out." She jumped up from her seat, looking in the indicated direction. There was nothing there. "Where?" "I don't know, there must be some way out, just wait for it." "Understood." She reached under the cloak, thumbing her Ark3's safety off.

She could hear alarms going off, the security outside headed back through the doors at a jog. I really hope I don't have to deal with them. Something suddenly occurred to her. "Dar, how do we exfil, I don't want to be stuck here." "Anywhere you want, its on standby, about fifty seconds out." Well thats a relief. To be on the safe side, I should call for extraction shortly before I need it. With that worked out, all there was to do was wait.

Taleste looked over her shoulder. There was nobody coming. She stopped, and took a few deep breaths. She had to be absolutely calm and collected. The entire job was almost finished. All she had to do was make it to the front of the building undetected. She could do that, right?

She carried on walking, entering a large lounge-like room with seats. Good. She was in the civillian area. Unless she got questioned or searched, she should make it out. There was only one other person in this area; a brunette in an overcoat. Big coats like that were a common sight in Marcy, and in the projects. It meant they were probably hiding weapons, or smugglng goods. Taleste wasn't in Marcy anymore, but still she was careful of the stranger. She started for the exit with a false air of confidence designed to give the impression that she was supposed to be here. The one drawback of this was that she wasn't wearing a uniform or a name badge. She just had to keep walking and prey.

Tess positioned herself in the best possible place to view all entrances and exits, but the room was empty for the most part. And I'm still wearing this damn coat, damnit Ames. It was way too conspicuous. She'd have to beat him when she got back, and convince him to get a better wardrobe for times like these. Her musing was interrupted by someone entering from the restricted access area. This had to be her target.

The scrutiny she was waiting for finally came, of course it did, she stuck out like a sore thumb. The brown haired woman simply put on a confident air though, walking towards the exit. Is it her? If it was, it might be quite the challenge. The girl was a plain wrapper. And those tended to be more than they appeared. Come on....come on. She heard a chirp in her ear, a red outline was superimposed over the woman and appropriate information appeared next to the figure. "Tesla, thats the target, one of the ones from that van. Shes sure to have some sort of exfil nearby. Get to it." "I know, calm your tits." It was time.

Now Tess could have calmly exited the building, called for an extract, and quickly bundled the thief inside of the transport. But anyone who even remotely knew her, knew that this didn't even cross her mind. The woman was almost at the door, she needed to do this quick. "Dar, have exfil on the way, I want to make this quick." She threw the cloak to the ground and drew the Ark3, while flicking out a crackling baton with the left hand. She leveled the gun, steadied with the wrist of her baton arm. "On the ground, hands on your head. Now!" Tess barked at figure. The ASIOS system showed the distance for the shot. Too far, I might miss. She started to shuffle forward, closing the distance.

Taleste stooped in her tracks, and raised her hands above her head. There was a gun pointed at her. If she ran, she might get shot. Still, if it was a cop, or security, they'd want her alive if preferable, and would hesitate. If it wasn't a cop, complying might be the lesser of two evils. She kept her hands above her head, but spaced her feet out, ready to sprint.

"Are you a cop? You don't look like a cop. Please say you're not a cop."

"Are you a cop? You don't look like a cop. Please say you're not a cop."

"I'm whoever you want me to be sweetheart." Tess shot back, no hint of humor in her voice. "I can also be quite lenient. So take that disc you have, put it on the ground, then make yourself scarce." She shuffled closer, If I can get close enough, I won't have to use the gun if she makes a move. Hell, one good lunge and Tess could just take her down now. But her target seemed ready to run, no telling what would happen next. She keyed her comms, "Dar?" "Exfil is on station." "Have them in the intersection outside, we're coming out one way or another." "Alright, ten seconds out."

Grak sat silently in front of one of his Hoplite battlesuits. The machine was currently offline, standing like a statue in the center of Grak’s workshop. The Chirix turned to the right, looking down at a metal counter top and all the tools that rested upon it. Greak rumaged though the piles of tools, looking for his welder. After an annoyingly long amount of time spent looking, he eventually found the tool he needed and turned back towards the Hoplite. Grak flipped the metal welding mask over his face and activated the ancient device.”Alright, Raz. Lower it.” Raz, standing behind the Hoplite, used a pully to slowly bring the grenade launcher down on the Hoplite’s left shoulder. Raz turned away just as Grak went to work welding the weapon onto the Hoplite’s shoulder. After a few moments of silence except for the buzzing of the welder, Raz spoke up.”Hey, Grak?” Grak stopped welding for a moment and looked up from his seated position at his brother.”Yes?” He asked.”Well- You can keep welding, by the way,” At this, Grak returned to his work as Raz continued speaking.”I've been thinking. What do all the great criminals of Babylon own?” Grak sat thinking about the question for a moment.”What, Raz?” He decided to ask.”Land, Grak. Land!” Raz responded enthusiastically.”Land? What are you going on about, Raz?” Grak asked, annoyance obvious in his voice.”Just hear me out on this one, brother. All the best of Babylon’s underworld: they all own a chunk of land in Babylon. I mean, we spent all day today moving from Babylon to Shanty Town today. Do you know how much more we could get down if we didn't have to go anywhere for our transactions?”

Grak stopped his work and flipped his mask up, motioning for Rak to remove the pully with his hand.”How do you expect us to hold more than a tiny chunk of land in Babylon? There’s only five of us, Raz. Most of us aren’t the…physical types, either. We’d need men. We’d need money. Where are we suppose to get all that?” Raz shook his head.”I’ve got a plan, Grak.” Grak looked uneasily at his brother as he raised a device and sprayed cooling air at the heated metal. Raz looked far too excited about this whole thing.”Well, go on.” Grak said impatiently.”There’s this Chirix-only gang in the Projects. They own three levels of one of the towers. Well, I’ve got a buddy on the inside, see? He said there’s been some..disagreements among the top ranks. Says that everyone’s distrustful on the leader after that incident the other day. He seems to think, and I agree, that you could show up with your mechs, kill the leader, and take his place. We’d have land, a source of income, and all the manpower we’d need.”

If what Raz was saying was true, Grak could see why he was so excited. That was quite the oppurtunity he was talking about.”Wait, you mentioned a source of income. What are you talkin’ about, Raz?” Raz shrugged at that.”The gang taxes the occupants of their territory for protection. That, and apparently, our guns would sell for quite a bit more in the Projects.” Grak nodded at that.”Ya know what, Raz? Let’s give it a go. Call up your mate and see what you can do. Take as many Hoplites as you need when you go to take over.” Raz looked surprised at that.”You don’t want’a be there yourself?” Grak turned from the Hoplite and began to rapidly type away on a holographic keyboard.”No. I’ve got work to do. Besides, what if something happened to me over there? No, you have to go.” At that last phrase of Grak’s statement, Raz seemed to jump.”W-what?” Does he really not care what happens to me? I’m his flesh-brother! “Uhm, yeah boss. Whatever you say.” Raz quickly shuffled out of the room, quite unnevered by the experience.”Boss..?” Grak whispered out loud, looking back at the door after Raz closed it behind him.”You always call me brother..” Grak shrugged it off and went back to programming the Hoplite, just as Robert Sinclaire popped up onto OLNN. Grak glanced up from his work at the broadcast.”Kira, who is Robert Sinclaire?” There was a beeping sound as the machine acknowledged his request before the AI answered.” Robert Kruschev Sinclaire, in his fourties, Former C.E.O. of Multinational Corporation Yggdrasil Industries, current politician in CGB office..” Grak became absorbed in listening to Kira read Extrapedia’s entry on Mister Sinclaire, working slower than he would if he were only half paying attention. Who was this man who stood against BESC so openly?