Coordinate 87L Beta 9
“Now what the hell was that?” Rocky Potts exclaimed. Touching his myomer fingers to his
forehead in a nervous habit, he studied his sensors. Not much was known about Trilobite, but
the seismic shockwave that registered on his Sentinel's sensors showed either a fusion explosion
or extremely centralized earthquake activity not far from his current position. Something unusual
had just happened, and it was coming from the test area where the rest of his company were
located.
“Mr. Rye-Del. What do you make of that shockwave?” Rocky guessed that he knew more of
the situation than Mural Rye-Del, but also wanted to give the aged veteran a chance. With more
than 50 years of experience in security, Mural had probably encountered something similar in the
past.
Mural sat back in his Urbanmech's control seat, a comfortable ride for the head of Strider's
Strikers security. Fumbling with his unshaven chin, he let out a long sigh. He eyed the data once
again and then replied to Rocky.
“Mr. Potts, I am sorry to say that I have nothing for you concerning this anomaly. It seems as
though something must have happened however, and therefore I believe we should investigate
immediately.” Mural declared. “I request an immediate vote or direct order from you to do so.”
Rocky half-frowned. He hated to possibly interfere with the ongoing combat simulation that his
company was taking part in, but believe the tremor warranted an investigation.
“Mr. Rye-Del, you are exactly correct. I'd like all of us to move towards the epicenter of that
disturbance to investigate immediately.” Rocky tapped his myomer fingers on the controls
before him. “Let's hope we don’t get more than we bargained for.”
Coordinate 54R Beta 27
Alexus could barely will her machine to move. The 80-ton Thug assault Mech was enormous,
and it was by no means simple to move the machine without the proper leg actuators. Of course
it didn't help that she had just come face to face with death. While she had not studied enough
about radiation sickness to classify her symptoms, she knew that she’d taken, and was still
taking, a serious amount of some kind of radiation.
A million and a half things ran through her mind as she pushed the machine to the limits, only
accomplishing a slow move across the flats that were now covered in radioactive fallout. Though
her comm system was switched off, she was speaking to herself almost nonstop.
“So this is how it goes. Nobody good enough to knock me off, so I end up dying in some damn
terrorist incident. Who in the hell did this to me and how in the hell did I get here?” she cursed.
Alexus figured she would be dead in the next couple days. She, like Duo Maxwell, had vomited
shortly after the fallout began. She knew this was a definite sign of a poisoning, she'd seen her
share of action films with the bomb. What she couldn't understand was how and why her unit
had been attacked. She knew they posed no real threat. Was is possible that someone had
discovered her true identity?
She pushed on through the snow. It looked as though she'd be clear of it in another 5 or 6
minutes. Keep moving...
Coordinate 27R Beta 2
Agent 6572 's mind was a mix of emotions. Of all the Strikers, he alone knew this was a Word
of Blake assault. Somehow the Blakists had intercepted his transmission to S.A.F.E., a message
he sent to the Free Worlds League more than 5 weeks ago that detailed the training operation
schedule.
The weight of the situation bore down on him now, an unforeseen enemy that had finally revealed
itself in the form of a nuclear weapon. His training had prepared him for such circumstances, but
he was now feeling a traitor to the Strikers unit like never before. He had provided the Word of
Blake with the knife, and the Blakists had plunged it deep into the Strikers back.
Though he had sworn he had no friends, he was now forced to watch those that Buford Olman
cared for as they died. His identity had become a part of him, and he was fighting to separate
that from himself. He needed to think about more important things than Meg Kurtis and his alter
ego's romance. Meg Kurtis was nothing more than a dead contact.
Corven Case's voice came over the comm system. “Buford, you okay? God man, I know what
Meg must have meant to you. Buford are you there? Talk to me...”
The comm system was silent for a moment, as 6572 swallowed hard. He was going to have to
play this by ear, and hope he didn't blow his cover.
“Now what the hell was that?” Rocky Potts exclaimed. Touching his myomer fingers to his
forehead in a nervous habit, he studied his sensors. Not much was known about Trilobite, but
the seismic shockwave that registered on his Sentinel's sensors showed either a fusion explosion
or extremely centralized earthquake activity not far from his current position. Something unusual
had just happened, and it was coming from the test area where the rest of his company were
located.
“Mr. Rye-Del. What do you make of that shockwave?” Rocky guessed that he knew more of
the situation than Mural Rye-Del, but also wanted to give the aged veteran a chance. With more
than 50 years of experience in security, Mural had probably encountered something similar in the
past.
Mural sat back in his Urbanmech's control seat, a comfortable ride for the head of Strider's
Strikers security. Fumbling with his unshaven chin, he let out a long sigh. He eyed the data once
again and then replied to Rocky.
“Mr. Potts, I am sorry to say that I have nothing for you concerning this anomaly. It seems as
though something must have happened however, and therefore I believe we should investigate
immediately.” Mural declared. “I request an immediate vote or direct order from you to do so.”
Rocky half-frowned. He hated to possibly interfere with the ongoing combat simulation that his
company was taking part in, but believe the tremor warranted an investigation.
“Mr. Rye-Del, you are exactly correct. I'd like all of us to move towards the epicenter of that
disturbance to investigate immediately.” Rocky tapped his myomer fingers on the controls
before him. “Let's hope we don’t get more than we bargained for.”
Coordinate 54R Beta 27
Alexus could barely will her machine to move. The 80-ton Thug assault Mech was enormous,
and it was by no means simple to move the machine without the proper leg actuators. Of course
it didn't help that she had just come face to face with death. While she had not studied enough
about radiation sickness to classify her symptoms, she knew that she’d taken, and was still
taking, a serious amount of some kind of radiation.
A million and a half things ran through her mind as she pushed the machine to the limits, only
accomplishing a slow move across the flats that were now covered in radioactive fallout. Though
her comm system was switched off, she was speaking to herself almost nonstop.
“So this is how it goes. Nobody good enough to knock me off, so I end up dying in some damn
terrorist incident. Who in the hell did this to me and how in the hell did I get here?” she cursed.
Alexus figured she would be dead in the next couple days. She, like Duo Maxwell, had vomited
shortly after the fallout began. She knew this was a definite sign of a poisoning, she'd seen her
share of action films with the bomb. What she couldn't understand was how and why her unit
had been attacked. She knew they posed no real threat. Was is possible that someone had
discovered her true identity?
She pushed on through the snow. It looked as though she'd be clear of it in another 5 or 6
minutes. Keep moving...
Coordinate 27R Beta 2
Agent 6572 's mind was a mix of emotions. Of all the Strikers, he alone knew this was a Word
of Blake assault. Somehow the Blakists had intercepted his transmission to S.A.F.E., a message
he sent to the Free Worlds League more than 5 weeks ago that detailed the training operation
schedule.
The weight of the situation bore down on him now, an unforeseen enemy that had finally revealed
itself in the form of a nuclear weapon. His training had prepared him for such circumstances, but
he was now feeling a traitor to the Strikers unit like never before. He had provided the Word of
Blake with the knife, and the Blakists had plunged it deep into the Strikers back.
Though he had sworn he had no friends, he was now forced to watch those that Buford Olman
cared for as they died. His identity had become a part of him, and he was fighting to separate
that from himself. He needed to think about more important things than Meg Kurtis and his alter
ego's romance. Meg Kurtis was nothing more than a dead contact.
Corven Case's voice came over the comm system. “Buford, you okay? God man, I know what
Meg must have meant to you. Buford are you there? Talk to me...”
The comm system was silent for a moment, as 6572 swallowed hard. He was going to have to
play this by ear, and hope he didn't blow his cover.
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