---

---

Destiny's Descend - Mr. DeLaLune's office
"So SkyGuard finally sends its message. To bad it's a poor one." Jonathan thought as he read over the broadcast message. 'Evacuating' back to Earth was pretty much delivering them from a warzone straight into a massacre. Those employees wouldn't survive for half a day down on earth. Though UTG must have some skillful personnel among its ranks. Maybe some would be smart enough to abandon SkyGuard and the UTG and join NHU. Though he would have to play that game. SkyGuard would probably demand to hand over the deserters.

On the other hand, what real power did SkyGuard have? Sure, they ruled the skies. And their armies were extremely powerful. But right now those would only destabilize Mars more. And where would they get those UTG officials? Who would be mad enough to try to set up congress in what was just a few hours ago a warzone. Jonathan thought it was insane. But, it was a profitable insanity. Right now there was no centralized authority. In other words, a power vacuum appeared.

---

Destiny's Descend - Control tower
"TSDC Dropship 0067. You and the fighters have clearance for Digsite Alpha airspace. You can land on Alpha Digsite Dropsite 1. Have a safe flight." the control tower returned. In the mean time a clearance was marked by light strips. Clearly showing a painted 1 on the metal plating placed on the ground. It was an improvised landing spot, but it would do the job.

---

Destiny's Descend - Mr. DeLaLune's office
"Dr. Maison, for what do i own you the honor?" asked Jonathan with his easy, relaxed smile as a hologram of Isabelle appeared in his office. Normally the hologram projector was only used during video conferences. So what she had to say must have been extremely important. "Sir! You will not believe this. The new metal. Its possibilities! The possibilities! It has 10 times the conductivity of gold! She was excited. Very, very excited. Like she just made the discovery of her generation. Though, DeLaLune didn't get her excitement. Doctor, please talk in a language I can- said Jonathan, right before La Fontaine entered his office with a holo-tablet. Jonathan motioned him to come closer.

"Allow me to explain. This could very well revolutionize modern computers! Imagine the processing power of today. With this metal we could 10 fold that! We could increase data storage! Data transport! Data processing!” the doctor said, and that did catch the attention of both the commander and the CEO. "Say, doctor, could those speeds...network AIs? asked the commander carefully. "It is possible." her hologram told him with a big smile. "Thank you doctor. Please, continue your investigation into this new material. But i want no reports of this substance public. This is our secret. For now." ordered Jonathan, who then ended the hologram call. Immediately after he was handed the commander's holo-tablet. On it a video was ready to play.

Half way through the video Jonathan returned the holotablet. He couldn't watch it anymore. "TSDC wants us to up convoy security. Rightly so I'd say. I've assigned 3 of the new Harasser tanks, 1 of the BeamBlasters and a truck of 8 Exo-Suits to go with the transport towards TSDC. the commander told him in a cool voice. After that, an eerie silence fell over both. They knew something had to be said. Something more. The TSDC was being targeted. SkyGuard was on the ground and Elysium was still burning. How long before NHU would be targeted. Finally the commander broke the silence: "Sir...I got a proposal to up our security with a minimum of long term costs. And with that, he started to tell Jonathan about his plan.

---

Goldrenrod, TPT HQ, Elysium

Martian sunshine pierced the silicate plane before a petite woman, in a rather comfortable chair. Brown hair, violet eyes, dressed in a simple white attire. She looked down from the tower into Elysium, which had quite apparently turned into a war zone. Rows of trees and green grass outlined the Tower compound. How did she love the garden, at about 500 meters the green peaceful scenery ended abruptly where a 2-1/2ft. wall surrounded the corporate ground's limits.

This was her home, and she would hate to lose it. Recent terrorists acts, especially groups such as the FBM disgusted her to say the least. A once burgeoning city turning into a playground for thugs with guns. Even more so disturbing, the Factory complex and company comissioned by her family for years was now but cinders and dust, after an unknown element of assailants stormed it, then bombed it.

But if anything, these recent events gave Salandra more resolve. She heard the click of a door open behind her. Just as she went to turn, she saw plumes of smoke and debris plume in the distance, a deep frown engrossed her manner, as she turned to the guest.

A man of 6 feet stood at her desk, dressed in an dark navy blue uniform, black hair, cobalt hue eyes that just weren't quite natural. Anderson, shifted his robotic almost skeletal arms behind him.

"Report HoS" said Salandra, Anderson announced with unabated breath "The outer perimeter is currently secured by about half our Marksmen division, 360 degrees, twelve hour shifts, no breaches. The Inner perimeter is patrolled by our Security officers inside the building, outside, and under. SOU is performing training exercises, but is action ready regardless."

"Good, work as usual isn't it?" She said with a mischievous smirk, Salandra swiveled her seat back to the view of city and pointed to the nearly dissipated plume of smoke in the distance. "After we are done here Anderson, I want a report on who and what caused that. I'm seriously starting to get annoyed with all these war zone theatrics."

"Of course mam" Anderson nodded. "Now to business at hand, what about the Press from MAN?" Salandra asked. Anderson cleared his throat replying "They'll be here shortly I'd say in about 10 minutes for your interview". "Hmm, alright and what about our current status with Pentegral industries and that deal we've been try to get through to them?" she said her head now slightly tilted to the side. Anderson shifted a bit uncomfortably before answering "Well no reply actually, I assume they are busy at the moment...". A serious look took to Salandra "Well that is disappointing, they are one of our best bets right now for contracting labor. Not to mention they have one of the few Space Elevators on Mars!" A slight pause passed "Send in our relations agent when you can so we might discuss this "little" problem".

Salandra nodded for Anderson to leave, but he didn't instead he asked "Mam, I know you could order and learn all of these things simply from your network connection, why did you need me to come in person?" She laughed in response "Anderson, it took you all these months to ask that? Seeing other people in person is better than an voice mail, or text. It tends to leave impressions on them otherwise overlooked, that Anderson and I like to see your friendly face when I can."

Anderson grunted in acceptance leaving the office. Ten minutes was more than enough time for Salandra to quickly browse through countless reports. She accessed her cerebral implant taping into the TPT local network.







Salandra sighed, so much needed to be done, yet so little time. She stopped her browsing as two Greyhounds escorting another vehicle with the MAN news logo was heading to the tower. She got up brushed the folds of her dress out, and headed down.



Salandra stepped out of the room, infuriated by the lack of respect for all those deaths... It wasn't so long ago, five years. It wasn't so along ago a mad genius had toyed with her family, then her. She shook her head getting back to work. What was one to expect of Reporters anyways? They were like Vultures attracted to the carrion of tragedy.

"The Bucket" Training room, underground, Goldenrod complex

A line of 8 men stood in black uniforms, their arms behind their backs. This line was encompassed by the massive white room. The walls covered with microscopic lenses laminated by clear polymer.

Foot-steps echoed as a 6-1/2ft women also dressed in black approached. She looked to be in her early 40's, slanted eyes, tanned skin and black hair streaked in gray. The Soldiers she approached seemed more robotic then human when you looked bellow, limbs, legs you name it these Soldiers had now robotic military grade limbs instead. Large bulges of lines showed through the fabric, around the chest the back. Internal harnesses built for structural integrity and increased weight load endurance.

Unsuspectingly though the woman who approached these inhuman men, was quite human. She stopped then turned to her subordinates. "Good morning grunts!" she yelled, in reply an equally hearty tone yelled straight back "Good morning Sergeant Sojurn!". Behind her a slab from the floor started to rise.

Shortly after an projection appeared, showing a singular black round with specifications. Kailie asked "Soldiers what is this before your eyes?!". One of her hands shot up to seemingly cup the bottom of the projection.

One of the grunts replied in an questions voice "A nerf dart mam?", another grunt covered his laugh by coughing, then recovered. The rest remained stoic.

Kailie replied "Heh, Kiss-ass tell Smart-Ass what this "Nerf Dart" is". One of the grunts shot up "Yes mam! This is an 85mm KK(Kinetic Kill) round, it is covered in a black polymer to prevent recoiless barrel wear, under it is a Tungsten Carbide penetrator mam!".

Kailie nodded"Good boy kiss-ass, this is the most destructive weapon in our arsenal currently. It is shot out of a recoiless rocket launcher and arpoaches speeds of 3250m/s over a distance of 900 meters. With an effective range of 2768 meters. This thing is meant to tear holes through whatever it touches!".

Now a view of the rocket launcher, round, and a EDC Mech came up. Kailie said"Now regardless of all you just heard, our most destructive weapon, is next to worthless when put up agianst an well armored mech like this". She pointed at the project again "Several times I've asked blue ass HoS to get us some fucking heavy guns! But that's going to take some time, so until then grunts all we have is this puny Pea-shooter to stop a mech from tearing into Golden Tower".

She smiled in anticipation for what was to come "So boys we are going to learn how to disable mechs with Pea-Shooters. Regardless of how well armored any mech is, they are similair to Knights in shining armor in the way the have gaps in their armor! In this case they have multiple weak spots that can be exploited to disable, and even permanently decommission these hunks of walking metal!".

Now the EDC Mech came into full view, the Launcher, and 85mm round vanishing. "We have recently acquired an decommissioned EDC mech for training purposes, its internals are next to worthless, but its armor is very much intact. So for today we are going to perform simulations first, then end the day with a Live exercise as an cherry on top!".

The grunts eagerly replied "Uuuurah!".

---

---

TSDC Headquarters; Office of CEO Argus

Two weeks later and Argus was still a little sore from the broadcast of then, but he had a little to be happy about - the latest shipment to New Horizon had processed smoothly, with them getting their slightly hefty load. Logan also had reported the formation of the new division had gone successfully - also good news. Now work was still to be done on the “6”, the Jump Corps and those bogies…

He had heard of TPT and its works. His arm was, if it could even be possible, “outdated”, and so was the blaster within. He decided a new plan was necessary… one to make him much more capable and able to take damage than he had before…

With this in mind, he sent a message over to them.

---

TSDC First Lab; Ground Bay

Busy was an understatement of the past few weeks. Thankfully, production of the “6” had not been interrupted nor the re-opening of “Bogie” production, as all the units in the division demanded by Argus were already made. Now he would inspect what his men had worked on.

“Now, Logan, first thing is the universal shield generators: mostly done. We need to get them tested before they can be deployed to all units, but indications thus far show we can just plug them into extension boxes and they will work just fine!”

Logan nodded at one of his head technicians walking besides him. “Very well, now what about the Bogies?”

“Boxes are done, weapons are armored, and all we need is a little better AI to make them realistic. I took the liberty of blending a side project in, hope that’s ok?”

Without checking for an answer, he brought Logan to one of the computers.

“This is what I call ‘consolidated noise’. Enough to mess up any AI system currently in production for a 1 mile radius, stop any drone for a few minutes, shut down vehicles and units, and break any unprotected earlobe. It overloads cameras, too.”

He turned on the video demo taken of an innocent transport truck out in a testing zone.

“Standard transport, nothing special.”

A shot fired off screen at the transport. A loud noise temporarily went off and the screen flashed pure white before the channel disconnected.

“We had an armored transport with the guy in the new exo-suit, completely locked down. His ears were ringing for hours… and he couldn’t reconnect for 10 minutes. We still saw his ping on the radar, too, although it came across as corrupted data until the system restarted.”

Logan considered what he had just seen. “Good… we can make use of that. How many are around?”

“Two more in the warehouses. We didn’t put them on the market, it’s still a developmental secret project.”

“Good, don’t register it. How’s the ‘6’?”

The technician frowned.

“Well… we haven’t really been able to make much progress. Our OBC’s are designed against deflection and interference, and other bombardment cannons are loosely based on the same design. We’ve only been able to shift course a bit off the central target based on the models, but so far we can’t really do anything to stop it besides shooting too much firepower at it. Even then, the OBC just brings the whole mess down as it’s exploding. We just trade a consolidated mass of energy for a firestorm.”

Logan sighed. “Well, thanks for trying anyways… just get whatever you have online so we can put them in use.”

The technician decided to step out… just a little. “We’ve been producing weapons for a long time… now we’re using them? This is the pirate day all over again…”

Logan understood where he was coming from. “That’s exactly what Argus is making it into. This time, we’re treading in warmer waters… he’s been hinting that he might be on vacation for a week, no idea what he’s up to with that. Anyways, continue. I like what we’ve gotten so far.”

---

Sector “E6.2” Desert Land; Harasser Green Two

Trapped out in the desert, with the path to the Safezone certainly out of the question. The Harassers driver had been living off of an integrated food supply, of which he only had a week’s left of rations, and staying powered down - detection could get him rescue, but could just as easily get him killed.

Today, he took a chance. Moving across the desert slowly and keeping an eye on the radar, he slowly traveled the dunes, hoping to make it to the Safezone without being interfered with. Still having a pistol in his vehicle, a few small flashbangs and a nearly full supply of potent firepower for attackers to eat up, he kept his radio to a short zone to avoid detection, although he could still be detected by sight, planetary satellite or a blank frequency that would reveal a very general location.

---

---

“Sir. Mr. Marvelic wishes to speak with you.” Said the male, synthetic voice of Jonathan’s secretary AI. “Patch him through.” Said Jonathan in a cheerful voice. A holo-screen with the elderly face of Argus popped open on the desk of Jonathan, who sat back easy in his chair.

“Ah, Argus, how are you doing?” said Jonathan in his young, energetic voice. “Let’s cut the formalities here. We are both very busy people.” Argus’ voice was much older, a lot more weathered.

“Of course, so my proposal. What do you think of it? Apologies for keeping it so vague. You never know who read those. But rest assured. This comn link is secure.” Jonathan wasn’t that afraid terrorists would try to eavesdrop.

“Good. I’ve been wanting to ask you something. How are you going to make a cheap fighting force? Because I can tell you, if you’re going to make a cheap militia, then I’m afraid I can’t sponsor that complex for you.” Argus frowned. The older man had heard his fair share of plans. Most of those coming from idiots who don’t know what they are talking about. He had no desire to waste even more time. Especially now.

“They are no militias. I can assure you that.” Jonathan stated, as he took out a cigarette and started to smoke. He still got a little nervous when facing the CEO of TSDC. “I’m talking about robots.”

“Robots? AI? A fool’s errand. Combat AIs and their platforms are already expensive enough.” It was what Argus had feared, a stupid plan made by someone who didn’t know what he was talking about. New Horizon was a mining corporation. Not a mercenary group.

“Yes and no. I’m talking about multiple, lesser AIs. Imagine a processor 10 times faster than the current generation. Those could easily power strong AIs and droid movement. Now imagine download and upload speeds almost as fast as single beam fiber optics cables. And finally, imagine storage capacity of its glory days. Where every year the average capacity doubles. I can deliver that through the new technology we’re developing. So to apply it to robotics and AI: We’d make robots who talk to each other faster. Think faster. And they require no training what so ever.” Jonathan had a proud smile plastered over his face. The pride obviously came from the discovery.

Argus looked skeptical at him. “So you just need funds? Nothing more?”

“And employees you could spare. Considering the events of the UTG and EDC I’m certain you’ll get an influx of Elysium ex-employees soon.” Jonathan pushed the half burned cigarette in his crystal ashtray. A thoughtful gift from his ex-wife. Back when they were together.

“Why would you want to share this opportunity? Surely if you’d just wait a few years you could make a smaller complex yourselves.” Argus asked with a raised eyebrow. It was a good deal. But good deals rarely came without a catch.

“Just so. But nobody would buy. We are a mining company first and foremost. We deliver iron that doesn’t walk or shoot. At first only a few, minor companies would buy our robots. After the middle big ones would come knocking. But that’s only after a few years. In other words, we’d be building our image for 10 years. Why do that when you’re good friends with one of the major security companies?” Jonathan answered, as if it was easy. Never the less he put great effort into saying the right words. And even then he considered calling the TSDC ‘a friend’. Can corporations really be friends?

“Who would own this complex?” Funding for building it was one thing. The real cost is in maintenance. Electricity, water. With already 3 holdings under his wings, Argus doubted he could finance having another one.

Jonathan felt like he was getting somewhere. But he had to answer carefully: “New Horizon. We would supply food, water, shelter and security for the complex. So the maintenance costs would fall down on us.”

“I think I’m taking you up on that offer, Jonathan. My legal department will contact yours to iron out a contract. But Jonathan. If this little project fails, it will be on your head.” With that, Argus ended his call. A second later and Jonathan collapsed in his chair. No matter what, the CEO of TSDC intimidated him. Rightly so.

---

---

Martin was worn out, completely worn out. Though the walls around him were painted a soft green and the floor was made of good plastiwood - the city was, at least, recovering enough to start rebuilding that which was destroyed - his clean if plain surroundings did little to assuage his aching head. Though he had not been breaking ore from the walls as he did in the past, the talks with the officials of the government, with Marshal Asturias, and the preparations in the factories had been more than enough to make him wish there were more hours in the day so he could sleep.

But there was still so much to do. Wearily, he opened up the holovid monitor on his computer, watched it flare into life, and then began preparing a series of messages.

---

---

Goldenrod, Elysium

Salandra frowned at the screen, she doubted the message she was about to send would be to her own standards. But managing almost everything from domestic disputes, to security breaches, to finally RnD complaints; took its toll. With little time to spare, she didn't waste a second longer, confirming the command to send the message.



Salandra grabbed her gray coat off the back of her chair, and headed down to the Greyhound transport that awaited. Eight Members of SOU awaited her by the Greyhound, along with Anderson and Kailie Sojurn. As she approached closer the well armed soldiers stood to attention four by four.

She politely smiled to her detail saying "At ease", they stood down into a less tense position arms side by side. Anderson awaited by the Vehicle hatch which was by now opened, his arm extend to pull her up.

"HoS" Salandra said in greeting as she was pulled up. Anderson replied "CEO, good day". The back of the Greyhound was spartan, and efficient, all was to be expected aside from the large dull metal box at the back, that took up five seats. It was pretty large to say the least. Salandra turned back to eye the HoS, "What is that?" pointing behind herself.

Anderson smiled "Well..." trailing off, Kailie was now behind Anderson at the entrance "Its nothing we shouldn't need Mam". "Oh really? Well it wouldn't hurt for you to show me then right?" Kailie looked to Anderson, her face saying "Shes your boss".

Anderson sighed, he approached the large box, putting in a Unique 3D key made from quartz. As the door swung open a low mist of coolant poured throughout the vehicle. After it cleared however, a large black shadow loomed in the box. Two white dots stared from its containment, sitting in a posture of rest, its head raised to attention to the three figures before it. Its nose pointed like a doberman. It was oversized to say the least, when compared to any other canine. Its features was smooth and angular, efficiently so; as if to reduce profile, and increase stealth.

The beast stood up from its resting posture, its electro-activated polymers shifting between the skeletal alloy frames. Its tail of ceramic and titanium discs now coming into view swaying from side to side.

"Anderson, why is that here? Its still a prototype not to mention it leaks radiation!" Salandra was furious about this particular surprise. Anderson now and then would over-do security. But this was a first-timer for sure. Sending a recent prototype along with her security detail to another Companies grounds! As if it wasn't enough that her body-guards were armed to the teeth, Anderson had gone another mile in the name of "Security".

Anderson scratched the back of his head, the Diamond Dog still shifting in the background, as if it were alive for all intents and purposes. "Well boss, it won't leak radiation for another 3 days. Drone division took this puppy apart, and put it back together for this trip of yours.".

Salandra still eyed Anderson with wrath, yet it was starting dissipate, abliet very slowly. "Well field testing could produce valuable data for the team..." Anderson suggested.

Salandra sighed "It stays in the box, just get back to your station HoS." She took a seat, Anderson left without hesitation. Her security detail packed in with her, Kailie closed the containment doors at Anderson's departure. Then taking a seat opposite from Salandra.

The entire ride to the air port was devoid of conversation. The grunts keeping to themselves, no doubt Kailie's discipline. Other than access to the network from her implants, Salandra could only feel time pass as the Greyhound ran through several ruts in the road, and Kailies persistant, and well timed check-ins over the coms.

Just as her internal clock measured 8 Martian minutes had passed, the vehicle came to a stop; Kailie announced "We're here mam".

Sterling X55, David memorial Airport, Elysium

Salandra and her team exited the vehicle from within the Sterling's vehicle bay. The ramjet's interior from the vehicle bays was luxurious when compared to military standards. Forty well cushioned seats in the first compartment alone. Along with network and local jacks for anyone to plug-in. The security detail stayed behind however, as Salandra went forward to the VIP compartment, consisting of ten seats, tables and various screens to play media.

To Salandra's delight she found Greg laid back in a seat. She walked gracefully to the seat opposite of him.

Greg until the night before, was in Mars Orbit aboard a space tug. He had come back to one of the various Skyguard stations for maintenance. When he heard of Salandra going to Archangel spaceport, he may as well have forced SkyGuard to let him break orbit in a pod and land in Elysium.

His red crumpled jumpsuit smelled of chemicals and sweat. In fact he was still asleep. His rough face complemented the gray hair and beard nicely. Salandra sat up taping Greg on his shoulder. Greg awoke slowly from his sleep two brown orbs greeting her.

"Ah, Salandra" Greg Grumbled. "Nice to see you awake Greg, how was your trip? I take it was exciting?" Greg scratched his head sitting up in his seat, joking "Well if those SkyGuard asses weren't busy twiddling their thumbs, then my trip would've been smoother.. You should've heard them when they announced my entry angle! Cold hearted and careless! Felt as if I was getting punched by the g-forces from inside the cockpit when I hit atmo!".

Greg animatedly looked to the side, sighing "The things I do for women". Salandra responded chuckling "Oh shut up you gear head! The only woman you are chasing is that large cable you call a Space elevator!". She then stood up, her hands place on her hips in a judging posture "In fact, before you even begin to insult me, you should take off that smelly rag you call clothing".

Greg sat up and went off to the bathroom, saying "Oh yes mam! I'm your slave, oh no don't worry I'll just go ahead and jump off a cliff for you". under his breath. Salandra couldn't help herself from smiling as Greg traveled the now seemingly monolithic distance due to his pace. His voice slowly going beyond out of ear's reach has he entered the other cabin.

Salandra sat down, she felt enthusiasm surge from herself. It had been so long since she had last seen Greg, he had almost been up in the vacuum for over half an year. If she were to ever have a father figure again it would be Greg. But she steadied herself from these thoughts as they went to the business at hand. The Corporation needed this, that was for sure. For years TPT had always been reliant on other companie's production capabilities, some used to even joke TPT was a middleman corporation because of this. But if anything it was the opposite, TPT was always at the cutting edge of ingenuity when it came to prosthetics and technology.

Shortly after Greg had entered the bathroom the intercoms qued "Hello passengers, this is Jason your Pilot, we are going to be taking off within Five minutes so please strap in for the initial boost phase". Salandra heard "Ah crap!" audibly coming from the bathroom. Perhaps she would have a little fun this trip, she hoped she would. But she hoped more so than anything for the deal to go smoothly.

Goldenrod, Elysium 19:45

The familiar rumble of Grey hounds rang in Anderson's ears, reinforcements then. He needed what could be spared, that was for sure.

The sky had turned into a redish-purple as the sun dipped over the horizon, and before him just over the wall was a crowd of a few hundred civilians, in dusty crumpled clothing, and a desperate demeanor cast over most of them.

They had been here for over three hours demanding entrance to facilities and food. Water and food was first and foremost in the crowds concern it seemed. The fall of the EDC and chaotic riots tearing the infrastructure of Elysium to tatters. Leading to this confrontation.

Along with Saladnra's publicity not so long before the fall of the EDC, these refuges were like fly's attracted to honey. And there wasn't enough honey to go around.

The crowd was growing more anxious by the moment, time for standard tactics then, he taped into the security network "Alright, hit the lights, and keep steady. Don't fire unless they intrude".

The Greyhounds formed in a circle around the perimeter turned on large riot lights, making the crowd stand back from the overbearing stimuli.

Anderson then spoke into the speaker system "This is Anderson Head of Security, you are to disperse, all of you have no place at TPT, entering without permission is a transgression that will be reacted to with force".

Anderson continued, hoping to dissuade them peacefully "Skyguard has already announced several rendezvous points at which you can be transported to safety. Please disperse immediately and proceed to safety".

Then one of the people in the crowd had to be a loud mouth "Fuck SkyGuard! They brought this shit storm on us! They won't do shit for us! You corporate fucks have food and water we need! We have children you know!".

The crowd began to worsen, a wave of rage pouring form their personal injustices. Anderson had to act fast, and the best way he could think of without shooting them, was standing up to the agression with agression. Anderson shouted into the crowd "Do you all think you can storm into here? We are armed and will fire without hestation! Is each and everyone of you willing to risk your life!?".

It might've worked in a better world, but the crowd was restless, desperate and now had a ringleader "Fuck TPT we'll storm and take what we need!".

Anderson knew the signs he called for backup immediately, Sixty-three bodies wouldn't be enough to stop all of them, even if equiped with ranged weapons. Before he could order everyone back into the Greyhounds for retreat, the crowd stormed. A silver stream of tranquilizer darts flowing to the crowd.

---

---

TSDC Headquarters; Office of CEO Argus

Argus read over the message from La Parranda. Although unity in a time like this would prove valuable, particularly forming a tighter knit community of organizations to better survive, these people were ultimately questionable. He would have to tread lightly with them…

He put that aside and checked the communication from TPT. This was interesting. He feared the worst in that he may have to leave the headquarters; security would have to be maximum. A packer was required to do it, as that was the only aircraft available that would suit the defensive requirements. It would also mean that he would have to miss the meeting with La Parranda.

Some calls had to be made.

The first was to his security chief.

“Darron, prepare the Jump Corps, a packer, some escort aircraft and a pair of BeamBlasters. I’m going to Elysium.”

With that order on call, he sent one more message to Howard.

“Howard, I need you to take care of a deal. This deal will be with La Parranda. Concede to lighter arms and things that we haven’t been able to sell, but don’t sell the highest level items and make sure they don’t get many, if any, 55k’s, Rippers, the like. You know the drill.”

Before preparing to set off to what he knew would be a dropship waiting for him on the ground, he sent a response to La Parranda and another to TPT.





TSDC First Lab; Weapon Testing Zone

A transport sat in the middle of a private road, a little ways out of the lab area but still in a relatively secure zone. Figures were spread across the small dunes around the vehicle, men wearing suits and pointing guns at it.

Of course, all of this was a simulation in real time - the transport was an experimental ambush device, and the figures were all test dummies that had fake equipment emitting signals that would befit soldiers. Indeed, it was two experiments in one; an ambushing transport and men to fake manpower that TSDC was woefully lacking, due to employees slowly dropping off various locations - some reports even said that some of them were deserting to the FBM.

Ghastly business indeed, but Logan steeled himself to the matter at hand. He gave the signal for the transport to do, hopefully, what many other tests had shown before in simulation form. He watched with his staff of technicians at what would happen next.

Out the top of the transport came a turret, 24 barrels pointing 360 degrees, almost stuffed together, expanding as they came up to a barrel pointing upwards in the course of 5 seconds. Logan gave a final signal over the network.

Blaster rounds, lightweight grenades, blaster shots and a few light duty bombs erupted from each of the barrels, striking everything around it, with some shots going deep into the desert, another set blasting near the distant camera, and creating a dust cloud that made it difficult to see what was going on. From the top barrel came a single explosive, launching up in the sky, splitting up and coming down, creating almost a wall of fire around the radius of the “bogie” transport. One of the close blasts had dislocated the camera.

The chaos was created and in under 20 seconds. Some leftover explosions rose over the noise of the fire.

Logan stood back with a staff of technicians. “Sloppy, perhaps lacking in range. But still...” he noted of the 40 or so false soldiers, 2 still sent signals.

One of the technicians spoke up. “We can outfit transports with this special module pretty quickly. If a convoy was sent out with them, we could have them prepped in 24 hours.”

Logan considered this. Nobody paid much attention to it, but Argus was near the brink of his 55th birthday. What better present than to give him reports of failed terrorist ambushes?

“Put this on the side, too. The boss is going to start a new project, he hasn’t given me many details, but we can deploy these new goodies along with it.”

---

Elysium City Border; Harasser Green Two
The driver of the Harasser had changed course a bit. Going to the Safezone would be too far; ultimately, Elysium would at least be faster. Hopefully he could get there without having a warzone. In any rate, he needed orders.

As he approached the city, gunfire and continued battle was evident, with the distant view of hordes of civilians attacking what seemed to be corporate personnel in the distance. taking a risk, he sent a small signal to the main local corporate channel, a generic “Help” distress signal.

---

TSDC Headquarters; Dropship and Transport Launch Zone

Hackett had been a veteran of the Jump Corps for many years before becoming its supervisor. On this day, he awaited the CEO’s arrival, along with 24 Corpsmen and two BeamBlasters in tow. A set of 4 fighters would be providing support.

He spotted Argus coming through the set of main doors of the Headquarters. “Security is prepared, sir, we can be off in 5 minutes and arrive in not too long.”

Argus gave a casual nod and boarded one of the transports.

Darron looked to the Corps and the BeamBlasters. “Alright, gents, move out!” As the forces moved into the packer, he sent a signal for liftoff to the packer and to the escort. he watched as they made their way across the sky, eventually vanishing into the setting sun.

Eudaimonia Colony
Founders Tower

"I spent ten years trying to get people out of Container City. Ten years trying to give people a future. Now I'm shoveling people back into that place." Victoria Mayhew sighed as she turned away from the window atop the peak of Eudaimonia's largest arcology to face the other two leaders of Eudaimonia in her office. Generals Garroway and Suvorov sat across from her desk with grave expressions on their face matching their prime minister. "And this is just the beginning isn't it?"

"All militia units mobilized and working to cordon lines of traffic and facilitate transfer of refugees into designated habitation blocks for refugee housing." Listed off Suvorov, clearly rattled like the others yet focused on her designated task at hand. "I've also ordered Attack Teams assembled and armed with what heavy ordinance we have into strategic positions around Archangel starport."

"Heavy ordinance?" Garroway asked, the older man of the military duo looking slightly surprised by Suvorov's statement. "What do we need Attack Teams for?"

"Skyguard is cracking down on Elysium." Continued to list off Suvorov, tapping on her wrist-comp to continue to bring up numbers on the militia. "The first step towards taming animals is to close the cage door. Skyguard considers everyone living in Elysium to be animals to tame, and thus they need to close escape routes. Escape routes like our space elevator."

"Skyguard wouldn't-" Garroway cut himself off midsentence as he thought about what he meant to say. "Dammit. They would. They want to, they NEED to keep control over space lift capacity if they want to turn a profit for their Jupiter backers."

"What can we do?" Mayhew asked, taking her place at her desk to bring up a display of everything Eudaimonia had. "We have a militia and a few cannoned-up shuttles. Skyguard is a full-fledged military with orbital firepower. We can't stand up to them."

"Not on our own." Spelled out Suvorov. "But there are other colonies, mercenaries, corporations. They need a space elevator not under Skyguard monopoly. We have to pool our strength if we are to have any chance of independent survival."

"Only if we can survive Skyguard's first attack." Noted Garroway. "That one we will have to weather on our own, whichever form it takes."

"Then lets hope they have their hands busy with Elysium." Said Mayhew as she read the messages scrolling across her desk and began typing out preliminary messages to mercenaries and arms corporations to feel out options. "And that someone out there can help when the dust of this initial fiasco clears."



Archangel Spaceport
Container City Zone 4, "Dogsville"
Dirty Deeds Brigade-monitored Checkpoint B

"Keep going! Single file into the scanner! Dear Lord, how has this tragedy come to be?"

"Stuff it Raynald. Leave preaching to the choir and get me another box of masks if you got the breath to spare." Grumbled Dismas beside his fellow Dirty Deeds companion as he ushered another close-packed family through the walkway, pressing respirator masks into their hands to give them some protection from the dust storm making its way towards the city of cargo containers and prefab hab-blocks. A mere drop in the bucket of safety for the thousands passing by, yet the ex-highwayman didn't have it in his heart to not at least try to help a few.

"You are right my friend. We do what we can, and may the Lord watch over these poor souls." The heavily armored trooper hauled another crate next to Dismas, careful not to jostle his plasma repeater as he opened the container of respirator masks. "I spy more passenger liners coming in, how many flee Elysium you wager?"

"No bet. Most likely thousands now, hundreds of thousands later when the lockdown turns into a crackdown." Dismas paused to make sure a lone child's mask was on right before pressing him into the line for scanning and ID tagging. Already the district's facilities for monitoring and scanning incoming individuals was taxed to the limit, and the ships were still coming and disgorging more wretched souls into Container City. Their efforts were interrupted when their commm-beads crackled to life.

"Reynald, Dismas. This is Wander. Meet me at CP-Delta at pad six. I got more dirty work for you."

"Yes sire. What about the refugees?" Said Reynald as he signaled for spare militia to come their way as he and Dismas relucantly stepped away at their leader's orders.

"Its becoming a local issue. More militia units are on their way, while Mercs like us have other work to do. Our clients are thinking Skyguard is on the way soon. Say nine out of ten their goal is the spaceport and space elevator. Winters wants her elevator safe more than keeping refugees alive and is recalling all the mercenaries here to keep it intact."

"Bitch CEO." Grumbled Dismas.

"Bitch she is, no question. But no space elevator means no work and no lifeline for any refugees still alive, plus she'd take repair expenses out of our paychecks, so let's try and keep it in one piece."

"What will our dirty work be sire?"

"Ever work with spider mounts for auto-turrets?"

"We have auto-turrets?"

"Er, not yet exactly. Hence the dirty part of this job."

"Huh?"

---

---

Destiny's Decend, Main entrance
"Everyone, please stay away from the fences. You will be processed as soon as possible." yelled an Exo-Suit trooper through his mic. They were lucky that they had the time to places the fences around. Just like with every other corporation and colony still standing, NHU began to get a refugee problem. But the CEO made a tough call. Most citizens disliked the decision. Even though it was explained why it was made.

Refugees were one by one interviewed. If their skills were deemed valuable they were allowed to enter. If not, they were politely requested to remove themselves. Nobody listened. And with only 5 recruiters interviewing applicants, it was a slow process. Outside the fences, an improvised tent camp formed. Those who weren't allowed to enter but didn't want to go anywhere else just staid. Hoping New Horizon would change their mind. The chances were small in that.

"Hey you! Step back from the fence!" yelled one of the security guards. With the lack of Taser or Less-Than-Lethal bullets, they were forced to walk around with live ammo. This particular security guard had seen a man, someone who clearly crawled through dust with torn clothes, trying to climb the fence. "Get down the fence! Now!" The guard was getting restless. There were no given orders when someone tried to climb the barricade. But the man didn't listen. A mixture of desperation and following the order to let nobody in made the guard pull the trigger. A warning shot flew over the head of the man. Who looked wide-eyed at the guard. He dropped back on the ground on the good side of the fence and ran into the masses waiting at the entrance.

---

Destiny's Decend, R&D wing, offices
Isabelle fell back into her chair, exhausted. She had just returned from Digsite Alpha. From the Dropship she had a clear view of the refugees amassing before the main entrance. As a civilian herself she worried for those people. She knew that Jonathan couldn't help them all. They were a corporation. At the end of the year, they had to have a plus on their balance. And a CEO could not promise that while giving out water bottles to everyone outside.

Back in the R&D, she now had to do the most boring thing of all time. Paperwork. She was jealous of her co-workers. Their fun was just beginning. They were actively toying around with the metal: Isabomium. Named after her. They had quickly made several servers with instead of copper, that special metal. While quickly tailoring together a sever side AI. That server was now controlling all clean up drones in Destiny's Descend. Which resulted in an improvement of efficiency of almost 200%. Those were the first tests. Networking basic OS systems like those Drones with a Sever side AI. Now began the real task. As she looked out the window into the main lab, she saw the 5 humanoid platforms. 2 legs, 2 arms and something that had to pass for a head that was filled with all sorts of sensors. The first prototypes with built in AIs who'd be networked back to another AI in a server. she couldn't wait for the first tests. Even Jonathan was stoked for the results. She knew, because the creation of an entire new complex was resting on these results.

---

Destiny's Descend, CEO office
Jonathan watched the footage of Elysium again. The images were burned into his mind by now. SkyGuard drones, firing on everything that moved in the once great city. That place was no longer just a battlefield. It was a slaughter. A massacre. A knock on the door broke his focus. His commander entered the room. "You wanted to see me, sir?" he asked in his near military tone. Serving on several mercenary groups had made him rigid. "If I would publicly denounce SkyGuard. What would be the reactions?" Jonathan was looking over the message he had typed and re-typed the past few days. "From who’s standpoint? SkyGuards or someone else?" Philip asked his boss, expressionless. "Both."

"SkyGuard won't be happy. The way I see it, they want to beat everyone into obedience. But they already attacked the people. If they'd attack and destroy a corporation, then they could lose Mars entirely. From the people's standpoint, two things could happen. One, they will praise you. So far I don't think a corporation took a stance to condemn SkyGuards actions. At least not in public. On the other hand, you could be seen as a hypocrite. Especially with this many refugees before our gate." Philip answered with no change of tone. As a commander, he felt the obligation to remain a professional, neutral stance in the matter.

"Thank you, commander. You may go." And with that, Philip removed himself. Jonathan kept looking at the broadcast message. He had everything riding on SkyGuard having the good sense not to attack them. But they already turned Elysium into a slaughter house. He wouldn't risk it. New Horizon was yet too small.

But he did sent a message over to Eudaimonia Colony. Their neighbors:



Some parts were meant. But all in all, it was more of a tactic decision. With Elysium down, Jonathan had to think long-term. That meant export. And you can't export without a space-elevator or space port. Infrastructure Eudaimonia Colony had. Offering them now help might secure a form of alliance for later. When he'd want his metal off Mars. Towards Jupiter maybe.

---

---

TSDC Second Lab; AGSS Security Room

“Whatever you do, if you fire, only let the ground units with non-fatal attachments fire! Ho Harrassers, BeamBlasters, turrets, nothing! Only go lethal if they do!” yelled Lab 2 Chief of Staff Karren to all security frequencies on grounds.

“Where’s that call to Argus!” she yelled at one of her staff, who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“...he’s… not here right now, they said, he apparently just passed us actually, in that packer…” the guy hated being called out for any reason, and it had its toll.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Screen them and interview them, the ones we can use should be put on side duties and work their living, and in exchange they get access to the biodomes. Everybody else needs to pay their lodging.”

One of the other staff piped up. “Karren, won’t that piss some of them off? It screams ‘corporate’ in every direction, these are refugees needing someplace to go!”

Karren gave him a very evil stare. “Damn right it screams ‘corporation’, we’re a security company, not a homeless shelter. Until Argus says anything otherwise, this is what is going to happen. Everybody else can make temporary lodging - OUTSIDE of the grounds!”

---

TSDC Second Lab; Primary Entrance

It was almost military, the way men in full infantry grade suits were lined up and searchlights beamed down on the ground in what had become a very, very late evening. The Tactical Response Squad had formed a perimeter, the BeamBlasters in their ominous display of heavy artillery waiting and even a Serperior sitting on the end with its sleek cannon looking ready for business. Two ground level laser turrets flanked the entrance. In both directions, mini-fortresses stood guard even as there was almost chaos on the inside of the gates, with vehicles moving around and men running across the grounds.

Outside the gates was a huge crowd - easily a couple thousand people, no doubt more, all yelling, pushing, shoving, some going as far as spitting.. Security had no idea how they were able to get over so fast; being so close to Elysium already, they had to have been hit the worst with refugees.

The security chief on the ground had a simple thought about it all. We’re in a clusterfuck now…

An announcement boomed across the Lab grounds and managed to echo over the large crowd. “TSDC is not a place for refugees. We are a security development company. Please see other locations, such as La Parranda or Eudaimonia Colony, as they are suited for such matters. If you wish to join TSDC and earn a keeping here, you may apply at the gate.”

The announcement partially worked, some groups trickled out of the back, and a few more people came up to the gates in a more organized manner. Alas, that still left… a couple thousand increasingly angry refugees.

One of them pulled something long and shiny out of his ragged coat. A guard seeing this quickly acted, slapping in the LtL extension and shooting a stun round at the man.

When he fell, an uproar rose through the crowd. Nobody cared that he wasn’t killed, only that he was shot. A single voice ran in the crowd: “Come on people! We can take these corporate bastards!”

The clicking of extensions was drowned out by a swarm as never before charging into the security wall. Hundreds collapsed to the electric generators toggled to make the wall fencing unclimbable, but nearly a thousand more simply climbed over those who had fallen and scaled the compound wall.

Loose bursts of fire were lost in the sky as the entire northern perimeter was collapsing. The security chief had no choice.

“Fire! Damn it! Fire!” he screamed into his radio.

Explosions rocked the compound wall as rounds from BeamBlasters destroyed wall sections and dozens of people alike, the Serperior’s slim but deadly explosive rounds destroyed yet another section and another dozen, and the mini-fortresses unleashed hell across the entire section. Harassers stream of missiles took down those who had came over the wall, with infantry providing cover fire. The few stun shots were drowned out by a display of fireworks and explosions.

Someone must have thrown a grenade, because the ground besides the chief simply exploded, throwing him into the side of a Harasser. As he groggily tried to stand up, another explosion, a larger one, completely wiped out a part of the wall section he was facing. He was killed by a flying chunk of Steel V alloy concrete.

Little did they know that there was someone, standing back, who must have been a reporter, steadily filming the destruction. The report would surface on MAN in the morning.

The next morning…

Karron looked back over the video footage of the chaos once more. She had seen it from the tower, but it was still impossible to believe. The entire section of wall had a hole that gaped from one end to the other. Literally thousands of bodies were strewn over the area, some of which had flown up and hit parts of the tower. Equipment was compromised… the only team that had suffered minimal losses was the Tactical Response Squad that had fired from the sidelines.

“How many deaths…” she whispered.

“One of the staff, who had been down on the ground, still had a pale face as he told her, “ We’re still counting, but we have about 1,200 so far.” He grimaced as he recalled one horribly mangled person who was still alive being carried into a security vehicle, set to go to the completely overstuffed biodome. Nobody had slept last night. No employee at the lab.

Karron looked at the damage report. Two Harassers, two turrets, countless suits and soldiers with the number climbing each update, and of course an expensive wall that had taken 5 years to build in the first place. This was a catastrophe. Argus would be so completely pissed… she shuddered as she thought what his reaction would be. The last person to fail like this hadn’t come out of the Headquarters building…

---

5 minutes from TPT Airspace; Packer 006

“This is Packer 006 of the TSDC, requesting permission to land.” The pilot hadn’t turned on the news; heck, nobody aboard had yet. It was early morning and people were still waking up.

---

---

"What the Hell are you jackasses doing with that crane?!" shouted the construction manager at her workers. "To your left! No, your actual left!" As the crane finally settled it was supposed to, the manager slumped against the cave wall and sighed. "Ai, mi cabeza."

"This deadline's impossible to fulfill," grumbled her associate next to her, staring at the site with cybernetic eyes. The order to build a lot more underground farms, both of the normal lit-by-solar-lamps variety and of the much cheaper but less enjoyable fungus farm variety, came from high up. Nobody on the crew liked receiving work orders with so little warning, even though they understood why: there was Hell going down in Elysium now, worse than anything anyone in La Parranda had imagined.

"If it weren't for those Skyguard pendejos we wouldn't be so swamped," grumbled his friend again.

"Excuse me," interrupted a voice from behind them. They each looked back and saw a trio with a camera, a microphone, and other such equipment, as well as obvious MAN attire. The reporter asked with a wide smile on his face, "Would you mind repeating what you just said for the camera?"

---

Construction was happening at Fort Solido as well, and fast. The small town's walls were just about finished, but the real work was happening inside and outside of them. A large fort was being constructed from around the tower in the center of town; less observable, digging was happening under the ground to complete the tunnels linking Fort Solido to La Parranda. It seemed like a castle out of medieval times, except with clearly colonial Martian architecture and better metals. Meanwhile, housing was being built both inside and outside the city walls, and potato plants well adapted to Mars were being planted in the ground outside.

MAN's news reporters were coming to Fort Solido, too. Their vehicles rolled on past a series of Red Tiger light tanks rolling out into the desert, escorting similarly red trucks and APCs. All throughout the town there was a lot of rushing, talking, and congregating wherever someone wasn't working.

---

"...training camp won't be finished for another week, not with all the workers being diverted like they are," Marshal Asturias finished, "but I think you made the right decision, Mr. President."

"People need help, Adelina," Martin replied, rising from his seat and stepping slowly over to the window. He opened the shutters, staring out at the carts of materials being pushed this way and that. "The miners are on double shifts and triple pay for the moment. The trains are running non-stop. By the time the first refugees make it here, we'll be ready for them."

"It is going to be a large delay on other operations," Asturias admitted, adjusting the sleeve of her shirt. She smirked. "Santiago is pissed."

"Is she, now?"

"You reassigned several of her crew from working on death machines to working on construction work. Of course she's pissed."

"Mm." President Martin frowned and gave the Marshal a stern look. "You are too harsh on her. She means well, if you'd take the time to listen."

"I'll be sure to write that down in her biography, probably after the part where she sets fires a micronuke at someone's house," the Marshal replied snarkily. Ignoring the President's look, she stepped across the room to seat herself in the President's chair. It was then she noticed something on the President's desk.

"We're going to be building by Lake Argyre, too?"

"A new settlement, yes, and get the Hell off my chair," the President interrupted, shooing the Marshal off. He reclaimed it with a huff. "Where Fort Solido will be our trading outpost, we'll need a proper farming town built inmediatamente. Our food stores won't last the whole year once we get the refugees pouring in, so we need to think of the long term and get some farms going."

"At least the area's already terraformed," mused Asturias, stroking her chin as she paced back to the other side of the room. "This is going to spread our troops thin, though. I sure fucking hope someone among those refugees can hold a gun properly."

"You're always thinking of war, Adelina."

"That's because war is coming, Martin."

---

Eudaimonia
Archangel Spaceport
Control Tower Bravo

"Do I even want to know how you knew KemVar was moving autoturrets and defense arms on this shuttle boss?" Remarked Dismas' incredulously as he watched a squad of Dirty Deeds troopers offloading the contents of a cargo hauler on the pad below them. Reynaud was below using a loadlifter mech to extract the blocky case of a ground-air field turret. Originally meant for some corporate compound, both it and the cargo lifter it was on would be turned to much more immediately useful purposes.

"You sure you wanna?" Smirked Wander, sharing a knowing smile with his fellow mercenary as they listened to the cargo pilot's complaints about being commandeered for refugee relief operations

alert. incoming Skyguard corvette. look at terminal 4b, changing auspex wavelength to Skyguard Guard pattern.

"Huh?" Wander turned to look at the indicated terminal, where Tactics helpfully adjusted the spaceport's sensors to reveal that there was indeed a stealthed Skyguard ship closing in. "What have we here? Dismas, don't that look like a Skyguard shuttle to you?"

Tactics? Why would they be coming here under stealth?
most likely they seek to come to a covert agreement with Eudaimonia regarding the space elevator without alerting the other Martian factions. Probability 67% +/- 2.
That low?
i have not been able to compile a proper psychological profile and modus operandi for Skyguard at this time due to limited raw data. nor do I know who is on that shuttle. safe to say we need to move up our plans to hit a Skyguard data archive.
Any progress on planning that?
i am thinking. plans will be dependent on results of this envoy.
In the meantime, lets bump this up to higher authority, shall we?
agreed. least worst course of action.

"Boss, you okay?" Dismas looked in what approximated concern for the highwayman at his boss' sudden silence. But most of the Dirty Deeds were used to their leader's fits of introspection and staring into the distance. Such moments also tended to yield surprisingly inspired leadership and decisions under fire. Nor was it the weirdest kind of behavior in the brigade really.

"Fine. Fine. Lets get our paymistress and political masters on the horn about this. We ain't paid to play politics." Wander spoke aloud as he yanked a headset off a air control technician and patched in to the comm network. "This is Dirty Boss to Madame Winters. We have Skyguard coming in trying to be all sneaky-like. I think you better let the Prime Minister know about this."

oh shit.
What?
this is the only landing pad available for them to land. all VIP pads occupied, and this is the only one isolated because of our actions in "procuring" KemVar equipment. and probability they will demand convert insertion approaches unity.
FUCK
fuck indeed. can we go to a bar after this?
Shut up and give me a voice filter. Lets spook them on the way in.

"Attention, incoming unknown craft-" Continued Wander, ignoring the voice in his head as he did his best imitation of an air traffic controller while aiming a conical transmission at the corvettes general area. "This is Archangel Air Control, we have you on our scopes. Please identify yourselves."

* * * * * *

CEO Winters certainly didn't waste much time in responding to a Skyguard incursion into her domain, with an aircar descending upon the pad containing the greatest CEO in Eudaimonia and her personal staff. The CEO herself was a statuesque figure. Curvaceous, beautiful, silver-white hair complementing ruby red eyes, emphasized with a sharply cut business suit that looked like it cost a million credits (which it did considering all the integrated micro-electronics and systems it had).

Wander didn't even want to think of how much of that beauty was the result of biosculpt and genesplicing (Tactics, don't tell me.) as he strode up alongside her as they waiting for Skyguard's ship to arrive. "With respect ma'am, I don't think its a good idea to keep my men around."

"We want to send Skyguard a statement captain." Flatly argued Winters, still tapping at her holo-comp as she strode towards a good place to greet the oncoming ship. "We will not be cowed nor intimidated by what they have done at Elysium or the refugee situation they have forced on us."

"Like a bunch of chumps with assault rifles will mean much to a orbital military." Grumbled Wander. Tactics, think you can nab some data from their ship? Make this gung-ho display worth something?

i will try.

---

---

Location: Destiny's Descend, conference hall.
Time: 0522
Philip, Jonathan and Isabelle each sat on the round table of the conference room. With the holo-projector showing the latest reports coming from MAN. All three were tired for different reasons. Jonathan was woken up because of the news and hadn't had time to drink his coffee yet. He had sent an assistant to get some, but that person hadn't returned yet. Dr. Isabelle was overseeing the first tests of networking the basic AIs with the server. When she was called to the meeting, the first array of tests were just about to begin on the 5 humanoid weapons platforms. Prototype drones with 2 legs, 2 arms and something that was supposed to resemble a head. Philip was called in when the security guard fired the warning shot. He counted himself lucky that the crowd didn't do the same at Destiny's Descend than at the TSDC second lab.

An eerie silence hung heavy over the room. The windows allowed the early morning light to pass through. "Sir...MAN is becoming a danger." Philip finally said. Jonathan nodded in agreement. "You are right. Something has to be done. But as peaceful as possible." Philip thought for a second, then explained his idea: "We could ground them. We imprison every MAN-reporter in the top of the highest habitation tower, in a room. The process would be quick." Jonathan looked at the several reports of MAN from all over Mars. "Do it. Confiscate all MAN-equipment and imprison all reporters. But make sure that no-one gets hurt. No lethal weapons." Though Philip realized there was a flaw in his own plan: "Sir. There will still be an public uproar." But Jonathan already found a solution for that. He nodded 'no' and said: "La Parranda. They broadcasted that they would take in any refugees. So here's the plan. I want a flight to Fort Solido every 5 hours. First transport the weak, the old, the sick." Philip realized there was a hidden motive behind the surprisingly humanitarian idea. Jonathan noticed his expression and explained: "Weak, old and sick people don't work. They are a burden. They only cost food, water, medicine and aid and give nothing in return. So let them be a burden for those free works. Also, those who aren't ill or old must first pass the recruiters if they want onboard of the Drop ships. We don't want hidden potential to escape to that colony." Philip nodded and removed himself from the room, making preparations.

"Doctor. I want those networked drones guarding my gate ASAP. Skip the utility tests if you must. I just want them to walk, aim and fire." And with that, Jonathan took his leave. Dr. Isabelle herself was strangely quite. It was possible because some memories of her on the board of the ethics committee were resurrecting. Machines have been used to fire on humans since the very dawn of industrialism. But almost always the humans pilled a trigger or pressed the button. Now she was making something that didn't need a trigger or a button. What if things went wrong?

---

Destiny's Descend, Main entrance,
Time: 0755
A squad of 5 guards and an Exo-Trooper were moving through the crowd, while through speakers the turn of events was explained. If you desired to go to La Parranda, you were asked to first go to the recruiters. And thus, very slowly, the first Drop ship was filled. Sadly, there was only space for 36 people, and the sick were transported first. But never the less, it gave the masses hope.

"This is Squad Alpha, reporting in. Eyes on the objective." cracked through the radio of the makeshift command center. A lounge Philip now occupied, offering perfect view over the masses assembled before his gate. "Squad Bravo reporting in. We have a visual." "Squad Charlie, prepared to engage." "Give them the go." Philip said to the nearest comn operator. Who nodded and said in her mic: "All squads, you are clear to go."

Luckily not a single shot was fired. Charlie and Bravo squad were able to arrest their targets without much trouble. Though at Alpha, they resisted. The camera-guy was busy filming and broadcasting. So they had to knock him out quickly. Though the broadcast clearly showed something went wrong; as the camera suddenly dropped to the ground and the sound of struggle could be heard before everything went dark.

---

---

"...and refugees arriving at Fort Solido by the day. Indeed, Sam, if you look behind me you'll notice a New Horizon United air transport dropping off another handful of..."

Jon switched to a different channel, sighing. MAN just confirmed his concerns. He ran his hand through his now greasy hair, from front to back, and slouched back into his seat. "Can we support that many refugees?"

There was nobody there to answer him. The rest of the crew was here as well, taking their lunch break and chatting away about work and other things. Jonathan was taking a rare break from his research, but it wasn't doing much to calm him.

Firstly, there was the refugee situation. While it was certainly moral to take in all the refugees that needed solace, it wasn't going to be easy to supply them with food and shelter. Secondly, while he was getting solid quantities of ore, Jon still had found no trace of Martian artifacts. Thirdly... He heard from a rumor from a friend working in the administration that his crew was probably going to have to gather a lot more ore a lot more quickly.

It was stressful, for sure. The next tunnel he was going to work in wasn't going to have any scientific value to it; it just had a crapton of valuable rocks. Listen to yourself think, he chided. You're a geologist! They're more than just rocks. But he just didn't care about the wealth of minerals around him anymore.

12:20 came and went. Sighing, Chief Excavator Brown started tugging his protective headgear, finishing with his hardcap.

"Alright, team!" he called as he opened the door. "It's back to work for us!"

---

Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit!

Private Isabela Hierro gripped onto her gun for dear life as something - someone - outside the Tunnel Worm screamed. She couldn't see anything from where she was - she was with the other Guerreros in the transport section of the Worm - and she couldn't do much of anything, either. The worm went from boring through earth to boring through empty air, and that twisted her guts up, and then it pounded right back into the earth. Then, everything came to a complete stop. Isabela was ready to fucking puke.

"HQ, we've just hit some sort of underground facility!" called out the Lieutenant from the head of the worm. "I repeat, we just hit someone else's underground facility. I'm looking down some tunnels that don't look like corporate holes. Please advise. Over."

"This is HQ Actual," came a strong, feminine voice Isabela couldn't quite place. Isabela was only able to hear it because she was seated so close to the front of the Worm. She wasn't familiar with voice procedure either, so that didn't help. "Reading you loud and clear; orders are to search the area and sweep for hostiles. Do not shoot unless you have strong indicators of hostility."

"Acknowledged, HQ," the Lieutenant replied, glancing back as his crew. "Wilco." With that, the officer stepped down from his seat in the head of the Worm and turned to face the crew. Isabela's stomach wretched.

"Alright, mijos!" the Lieutenant snapped. "Let's get this show on the road. Visuals and scanners show there's at least some basic cover we can make use of down here, so treat this like urban warfare. Keep your head low, keep your wits about you, and with God's grace we won't have any trouble down here. Do not shoot unless you're pretty fuckin' sure someone wants to shoot at you. That means watch your trigger finger, Bernardo."

A brief laugh passed over the group, but it was replaced by a stiff calm. This could be my first fight, Isabela thought. This is the first real action most of us here have had. Oh, shit.

"Now let's move out!" finished the head honcho. Everyone got up from their seats and rushed out as the doors lifted along the sides of the worm. Isabela followed procedure, taking her position along the right flank...

...and then noticed something from the corner of her eye. She looked down. It was a skeleton with obvious knife and bullet wounds, clearly looted of all its valuables. And someone else was right beside it, very bloody and very dead, freshly dead.

"Lieutenant," she called out, "I think they're gonna be hostile, sir."