MARS: 3 - Daybreak - TITAN Contractors
08 Mar 2022Aurora Adair (Radiumio)
NOTE: This story contains themes of violence and strong language.
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DATE: 2nd of March, 3308 [19:41 UGT]
LOCATION: T.O.C. Solaris Q4V-40N, Misir"Okay, Sergeant. You're all checked out. Nothing to worry about... and it seems like your concussion is gone from what I can tell, so..."
Wincing as the bright light focused into his eyes was moved away, Sergeant Locke blinked repeatedly, attempting to get rid of the flash in his eyes. For the last week, he had been temporarily suspended from CSF operations for recovery reasons, much to his annoyance, and despite all the reassurances he had given to his superiors and medical officers, his team would remain excluded from official operations until further notice.
"So, I'm good to go? This is the last time, right?"
Turning to look up at the feminine figure clad in white and blue overalls directly in front of him, his eyes met the face of a young lady with tied back brown hair, vibrant green eyes gazing down at him as he sat on the edge of the medical bed. She sighed, stepping aside as she placed the penlight on the nearby table, turning back to Locke with folded arms.
"Yes, well... You did suffer significant head trauma and although you are passing all the checks fine, you still need t-..."
"For gods sake. Doctor, with all due respect, I'm fine. I don't need any more damned check-ups. What I need is to be out there in the field, stopping whoever is doing this to us. Not lounging about in a medbay."
Jumping to his feet, the sound of his heavy suit boots making contact with the sterile tiled floor echoed throughout the medical room. He took a step towards the exit of the room, but his progress was blocked by his doctor, a stern look on her face as she frowned at him.
"Sergeant, wait. You can't do much good if your health is impacted. You need to take it easy, even if you feel fine. I'm not su-..."
"I don't need to take it easy. Look, Doctor Wynter, right? I get that you're trying to help, but I cannot just sit around and watch while an unknown enemy threatens everything this squadron stands for, as well as endangers my team and the people around me. Every second not spent hunting them down is a second wasted."
The room fell silent, Locke exchanging a cold stare with Dr. Wynter, which seemed to unsettle her slightly. Once again, he tried to take a step towards the door and was stopped again, much to his frustration.
"I understand, Sergeant. But you... you keep mentioning those visions. Ones that don't make sense and... quite honestly, I think we should do more check-ups. See if there's another underlying issu-..."
Interrupting her once again with an annoyed chuckle, he folded his arms, staring down at her as he contemplated what to say. It was true that he had been having visions lately. Namely, the hanging body that they had found in that site. The bloodied hallway that wasn't there in reality. But something didn't feel right. He'd read the latest news on internal affairs - after that strike, approximately 20 dead Solaris crew members were located, disfigured just like the rest. Just like the Amalgamation.
It made him feel physically sick. Who could do something so horrifying? Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? And everytime he saw it - he just couldn't break his eyes away from it. Why?
"There's no underlying issue, Doctor. What I saw was... as real as it gets. I don't need medication or therapy. What I need is answers, and the sooner I'm back in the field, the better."
"Wait. Okay, fine. I'm not going to argue with you then. Just... can you explain the visions to me? Again?"
Looking down at Dr. Wynter, Locke sighed, contemplating for a moment as he backtracked to the bed, sitting down on the edge, scratching his head.
"... Well, they start off the same, usually. Starts off with that... amalgamation in that canister, then the hallway that was... covered in this mass just like it. Just blood and... flesh... everywhere. Then it's that dead body hanging from the ceiling. Those two operatives standing next to him. And his face... his face was all... skew. Like disfigured and bloodied, it was hard to tell in the low light. It's all the same. Always the same. I don't want to look but... I can't not look, y'know? I don't understand it, but I want to. I don't know how else to explain it. Which is why-..."
"...-why you want to get back out there. I get it. I can't convince your superiors otherwise, but... ugh."
Sighing heavily, Dr. Wynter lowered her arms, glancing around at the room as she lowered her voice a little.
"I'll put in a good word, I guess. Say your check-ups went exceptionally well and no more will be required. But - only on the condition that you see me immediately if you're experiencing any odd symptoms."
"Fine by me, Doc. Can I go now?"
Meeting Locke with a bright smile, Wynter stepped aside and gestured to the door to the medbay.
"Yep. Have a good day, Sergeant."
Getting to his feet with a sigh, Locke got to his feet once more and approached the door to the room unimpeded, opening it as he stepped out into an inactive hallway, only two CSF guards standing around near the main reception. Departing swiftly to the exit of the medical wing, the sliding doors parted and allowed passage through, Locke stepping into the connecting hallway as he headed for the lifts. He needed to get to the armoury or find a CSF captain, and try convince them to-...
"Locke!"
Pausing as someone called out from behind him, he spun around on the spot, looking up at the figure who called his name. Immediately, his eyes fell upon a man he recognized, only thanks to the insignia on his armour. Like most CSF soldiers - all wore helmets that obscured their face while on duty. It was Helvet, Sabre's one and only talented Pioneer technician.
"Helvet. You been standing there this entire time?"
"Quiet. I need to talk to you about something."
Grabbing Locke's arm, he quickly dragged him along, rounding a corner in the hallway as they stopped, alone in the hallway. Helvet turned back to face him, reaching up to disengage his helmet, brown eyes darting around nervously as he glanced back behind him.
"... Okay, woah. Helvet. What's going on? You're acting all skittish."
Turning back to look at Locke, they both locked eyes, a frown on Helvet's face as he drew a PDA from his belt.
"You remember that cyberattack on the Solaris on the 28th? Only 8 days after our failed raid in HIP 71938? How that cyberattack leaked some transmissions from the Crimson Venators themselves, and also how the data we recovered off that PDA had a full leaked name list of the Crimson Venators? You've seen it, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I've seen the internal report. What's the big deal? What's going on?"
"Look at this."
Handing the PDA to Locke, he took it and glanced at the screen, examining the graphic on it for a moment. It seemed to be some kind of telemetry data regarding the cyberattack, but he didn't quite understand it, looking back up at Helvet.
"Okay. Idiot speak. What am I looking at?"
"It's telemetry data from the cyberattack on the 28th. I may or may not have... y'know... nicked it from intel storage. With a bit of permission from Captain Faust, mind you. The telemetry data is... odd, to say the least. But I think we have a lead, and if we don't act on it now, we might lose it. Look here. The telemetry data was received by the Solaris via an attack vector outside of the carrier. Likely a listening post or a satellite judging from the data."
"What's interesting about it is the fact that the traceback should go a bit further than that, but someone or something has cut us off from seeing that. See here? The satellite relayed the attack from another, unknown source, before the satellite itself dropped off the grid. Tech specialists were able to figure out the exact location of where the satellite was, and it was orbiting an atmospheric icy world in some uninhabited system. The fact that it dropped off the grid means that it was likely destroyed or shut off... but both could mean it might've eventually de-orbited and crashed on the planet it was orbiting."
"Wouldn't it burn up in the atmosphere or be destroyed upon impact?"
"Nope. The atmosphere isn't thick enough and although the impact could've done substantial damage, there's a big chance it survived the impact. In fact, it did... more on that in a moment. The biggest problem right now is, Command doesn't want to investigate the data or the location."
"Why not?"
"Well... if the satellite was disabled somehow, it was probably done by a third-party and not naturally. They don't want this to turn into yet another failed raid like on the 22nd of February. And, while we're playing defence mode on all of the carriers in the squadron, we're already stretching ourselves thin. Sending in a larger strike force to investigate and potentially deal with any threats that might ambush us is considered a textbook bad idea."
"Okay, Helvet. Surely it's not that big of a deal? Two squads and a sentry of combat SRVs will get the job done easily without causing issues back here, right?"
Helvet paused a bit, switching off the PDA and pocketing it.
"That's the thing. Which is why I wanted to talk to you about it. I think something else is at play here that's making them not want to investigate, but I don't know what. Here's my suggestion. I have the rough location of the satellite. I'm not sure if they know, but as I said, it survived the impact and gave one last single ping before going dark. They could've moved the satellite by now, but I've been thinking about it and I think we should investigate it ourselves. Yeah, yeah. You don't have to agree. For the sake of secrecy, it'll just be the two of us... plus I'll try convince Oracle to take us there. I trust him."
Folding his arms, Locke let out a heavy sigh, looking past Helvet down the hallway.
"Right... Okay... so this is happening apparently. When do we want to do this?"
Helvet seemed confused, frowning suddenly as he looked at Locke curiously.
"... Wait... you're just... you're just going to agree like that?"
"Helvet. I want to find out who did this as much as the next damn guy. If we have to, we have to. Plus, I don't like the sound of Command retaining us when it's not necessary. We shouldn't have our hands tied when our lives are at risk again. So, let's do it. We find that satellite, pull whatever data we can and avoid enemy contact if possible, if there is any, and then we get the hell out of dodge. Report back, and take this further. Sounds easy enough."
"Right... I just didn't expect you to agree so quickly. I'll get Oracle on board, and we'll figure out a way to hide his flight plan. Might take a few days, and we should lay low to see what else happens, if anything. Once things calm down a bit, we'll head out there and hope that the satellite is still where I think it is. And hopefully, it's not guarded by a small army by then."
Shaking his head a bit, Locke scratched his chin, thinking for a moment. Eventually, he lowered his arms and looked at Helvet once more, nodding slowly.
"Yeah, Helvet... I just love basing my operations off hopes and dreams. Okay. Whatever. Let's do this."
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DATE: 8th of March, 3308 [15:54 UGT]
LOCATION: Unknown Coordinates, Col 285 Sector HP-R b20-0 3IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Locke. Hey. You there?]"
Huffing in the closed confines of his helmet, crystals of ice crackled underneath his boots as Locke trekked across the barren icy landscape, broken terrain surrounding him and a soft, blue sky above as day was breaking. He'd been walking for what felt like hours - and he probably had been, dropped off in the middle of nowhere and condemned to walk across miles of empty wasteland. Helvet was aboard the ship, parked a few kilometres back to preserve stealth... or so he claimed.
"Yeah. Yeah, Helvet. I'm here. You know, you could be the one freezing your ass off out here by walking in the middle of nowhere. Someone didn't put enough padding in this suit."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Your Dominator suit wouldn't do you any good out here. The Maverick's the best balanced choice we got. See anything so far? You just entered the search area a few minutes ago.]"
"No. No, goddamnit... I don't see anything. Just... ice and rocks. I'm looking for a tiny fucking satellite in the middle of nowhere, Helvet. Why can't we just use the ship?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[We went through this already. You wanna possibly alert anyone guarding the satellite and bring down hell on us?]"
"Ever heard of a well-placed missile?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Ever heard of collateral damage?]"
Locke sighed, shaking his head as he continued walking along, following the map Helvet had given him.
"Whatever... Smart ass."
"So, when I find it... and if there's nobody guarding it... what do I do next?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[We plug in. If there's no one nearby, we'll download the data remotely, Oracle will get close and we'll establish a connection. See if we can't figure out what relayed the cyberattack through that satellite.]"
"And if it is guarded?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[I dunno. Pray?]"
"Great. So you really are sending me in solo on a mission built on the hopes that nothing will go wrong. Should've sent you in."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Well... one person is conspicious enough out here. Plus, you seemed eager so I figured I wouldn't get in the way of that.]"
"Ugh. You just didn't want to freeze your a-..."
With a loud ear-piercing crack even audible through the atmosphere, the ice suddenly burst into shards in front of Locke as an explosive round ricocheted off, spalling off into the distance. Diving to the ground, he covered his head and crawled behind a rock quickly, cursing out loudly as the simulated sound in his helmet was overwhelmed by the deafening sound of the shot, loud enough to echo through the surrounding terrain.
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Lo-... what... going-... -n?!]"
The sound of Helvet's voice over the radio a buzzing drone, Locke groaned and reached back for the Oppressor mounted to his suit pack, yanking it forward into his hands. His ears rang slightly from how incredibly loud the sound was, but he laid low against the ground behind cover, waiting for the slight tinnitus to die down.
"... Fuck... that was close! Helvet, I just got shot at."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[From where?!]"
"I don't fucking know! Some kind of sniper, fucking explosive round almost wiped me out. Didn't see where it came from."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Shit. Either you're close or... someone found us.]"
"So much for our hopes."
SUVAS: "Shield Activated."
Scrambling to his feet, Locke broke out into a charge as his shields formed across the exterior of his suit. Sprinting out of cover with his rifle close to his chest, he dashed for the next rock, simultaneously searching for the shooter.
As if timed perfectly, a small silhouette on a distant hill was visible, the ambient light of the planet's icy shine catching on the optic of the shooter's weapon. Watching the flash intensify as a second round was sent, Locke broke into a slide, quickly tumbling behind the rock he was dashing for, just as the explosive round slammed into its edge, taking a large chunk of ice out.
"I see them! To my north-east, on top of a hill. About three or four hundred metres at a guess."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Okay. God, fuck it. I'll get Oracle in the air. Hang tight!]"
"Hurry up before I become bits and fucking pieces, thanks!"
Catching his breath as he laid there behind the rock, he quickly got to his knees and spun around, crouching behind the rock as he braced the barrel of his Oppressor against his cover, aiming for the silhouette in the distant. Squeezing the trigger, he held the barrel down as the recoil forced the rifle back into his shoulder, bursts of plasma erupting from the muzzle, thrown across the wide expanse of broken ice as they sped towards the hill. The projectiles were slow, but he was hoping the move would suppress his target and buy him time.
Quickly, the move was proven futile, as the next round almost practically cracked Locke's cover in half, shrouding his face in a cloud of crumbled, fragmented ice, forcing him back down behind cover. Cursing angrily and slamming his fist against the icy ground, he ducked down again, as low as he could while he quickly thought of a plan...
"Helvet! How long is this going to take, goddamnit?!"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Engines spooling up. We're only four klicks out, just hang on!]"
... and the only plan he could think of was to wait on the support of Oracle. One or two more rounds would tear his cover apart, and Locke didn't want to find out whether or not the suit shields would be able to stop a direct hit. All he could do was flinch and pray as another explosive round shook the ground, the rock audibly cracking as parts of it began to crumble.
"Helvet, I'm gonna lose my fucking cover!"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Just wait!]"
"What do you mean just wait?! I'm-..."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Paint the target!]"
"Shit..."
In the distance, a glint of light marked the approach of a vessel, its silhouette hung in the sky as its size began to rapidly increase. Scrambling to his feet, Locke quickly reached to his belt and yanked a cylindrical, scope-like object from it. A laser designator. He'd never had to use one, but now was the time to see if his training held up.
Clicking it on, Locke quickly fumbled it up to his eye, pressing it against the visor as he scouted for the opposing sniper, soon spotting a faint silhouette on the north eastern hill. Even with the slight magnification of the laser designator's scope, he couldn't quite make it out, but regardless he lined up the scope and depressed the switch on its side. Laser on.
"Laser's on!"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[We see it!]"
The roar of Oracle's thrusters slowly becoming audible in the atmosphere, Locke remained snug against the cover, his head just barely peeking out in order to lase the hostile sniper. Each breath, each subtle movement, he was waiting for that sniper to zero in on him and pull the trigger - finishing this for good. With each intense second, the local atmosphere was disturbed by the noise of a ship approaching from Locke's rear, until there was a crack and a flash...
Locke closed his eyes. This was it. He'd die at the hands of a sniper he couldn't even get a good visual on. Hunting some stupid satellite out in the middle of nowhere. What a way to go.
... but the crack turned into a screaming whistle as the missile fully ignited, a smoke trail bursting out from above Locke's head as the missile soared towards its intended target. Connecting, the hill engulfed in a fireball as the deafening explosion shattered the surrounding terrain, spitting fragmentation and fire. Switching the laser designator off, Locke quickly holstered it and grabbed his rifle, the Crusader thundering overhead as the blast of its thrusters disrupted ice and particles of snow surrounding him, speeding off into the distance as it pulled a tight turn, soaring into the air when it gained altitude.
IDENT: {Oracle} "[Target destroyed.]"
Locke sighed. That was way too close. After a moment watching the Crusader orbit the area, Locke climbed to his feet slowly and shouldered his rifle, breaking into a slow combat pace as he jogged towards the mountain. Being slightly exhausted from the dash he had to perform, he tried to take it easy and cautious, his gaze fixated on the hill where the sniper was as he began to ascend it.
"Helvet. Do you see anything up there?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Just a crater. It was a direct hit on your lase.]"
"I mean the sniper. Did you catch a glimpse before you... y'know... wiped him off the face of the planet?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[No, we were too far.]"
Slowing down as he began to ascend the steepest part of the hill, Locke raised his rifle scope to his eyes, carefully cresting the hill as the smoking black crater became visible, marking where the missile had impacted. But... that was it. There was nothing else here. No body. No remains. No weapon. Nothing.
"... What? Helvet, there's nothing here."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Well, you called in the strike.]"
"I got shot from here. Explain the damaged cover then..."
Reaching down to his belt, Locke pulled the laser designator scope from it and brought it up to his eye, looking back as he observed the area the sniper could see. After a bit of looking, he eventually located where he had been taking cover... only to find that the cover wasn't damaged, nor was the surrounding terrain.
"... The fuck is going on?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[What?]"
"... Nothing. I'm going to try see if I can find that satellite. See anything up there?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Well, the satellite stopped transmitting a while ago, but you're further into the search area now. It should be somewhere close by.]"
"How close?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Give or take, another kilometre or two. Try keep an eye out.]"
"Guess I'm walking again... Goddamnit."
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DATE: 8th of March, 3308 [16:34 UGT]
LOCATION: Unknown Coordinates, Col 285 Sector HP-R b20-0 3IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Hellooo? Locke? Found anything?]"
"No! And this is the tenth fucking time you've asked me! There's nothing here, Helvet. Just a barren icy wasteland and some... ghost sniper."
Climbing a small, steep hill, Locke pulled himself up to a standing position, looking around from where he stood atop of the hill. Grabbing the laser designator from his belt again, he sighed and began to look around, gradually surveying what he could see of the surrounding area. From here, it was just boring rocks and ice, nothing of much note. He was about ready to just call it quits at this point, until the lens of the scope caught the light of a thin, metal object pointing skywards, further into the broken terrain and hidden behind an incline. It didn't seem like a satellite, but it was a start.
"Finally. Some luck today... Helvet, I see something. Not the satellite but... it's something."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Oracle has put us down where we last were, so we have no eyes on it. What is it?]"
"If I knew, I would've told you. Let me check it out."
Holstering the laser designator, Locke broke into a jog as he moved towards the incline at a steady pace, hands ready to reach for his Oppressor on his backpack if need be. Reaching the incline, his jog slowed into a walk as he carefully proceeded upwards, minding his footing to avoid slipping on the ice. His suit power was getting low, and so was his supplies of energy cells. He had already spent too much time out here, and it was cold and annoying to navigate the environment.
Half-prepared to turn around and leave if whatever he saw was just a mirage, Locke took in a breath and ascended the rest of the incline, stopping at the top as his eyes gazed down upon an object at the bottom of the smooth decline.
"... Helvet, some kind of structure here. Doesn't seem to have defences but it... it looks like a pyramid. Much like the site we raided two weeks ago, except this is just one structure and no sentry skimmers... no turrets either."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Well... if that's the only structure for miles then it must be of some note. It's inside the search area too. Any sign of the satellite?]"
"Not from here. Gonna try get a closer look... without dying, I hope."
Carefully beginning his descent down the hill, Locke lowered his profile slightly as he began to sneaky approach the site, his one hand coming back and gently hovering near his Oppressor should he need to grab it. The structure was a dull metal, with some lights online. Definitely powered, but didn't seem to be guarded by anything. Approaching closer and closer, he prepared himself for the inevitable, tensing up but not yet activating his shields as the structure's shadow obscured the light from the star, plunging him into freezing shadows.
He powered through as his suit battled the hazardous temperatures, rounding the corner of the structure. The lack of defences was unsettling and didn't entirely make sense. Where were the guards or automated defences for a powered structure out here?
Grabbing his Oppressor from his backpack, Locke shouldered it and leaned around a corner, sweeping the site carefully as he proceeded onwards with quiet and calculated moves. There seemed to be no entrance to the structure, at least no obvious one, but that wouldn't be necessary. Turning the next corner, his eyes fell upon a large scaffolding platform, complete with a staircase leading up to it - and a large satellite with four arms of solar panels sitting on top of it, fully intact.
"Helvet. I got the satellite. Found it at this structure. It's... not damaged. Perfectly intact, actually. Looks like whoever took it down brought it back in one piece."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Right, let's not waste time. Get up to it and plug in that PDA I gave you.]"
"This isn't going to give me a virus, right?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Just plug it in. It's sandboxed.]"
Sighing as he ascended the small staircase slowly, Locke took a knee as he got to the top and ducked underneath one of the solar arms of the satellite, running a gloved hand along the exterior of the satellite's center, brushing ice and snow off. His fingers ran across what felt like a panel, and brushing off the rest of the ice quickly revealed a red maintenance access hatch.
"Got a maintenance access here."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[You're looking for a data port. Not maintenance access. Try the other side.]"
"Right..."
Crawling around underneath the satellite as he circled around it, Locke eventually found the data port mentioned by Helvet, brushing the snow off. It seemed turned off, but he listened regardless and grabbed a rugged PDA from his belt, pulling a cable from it that he inserted into the data port, plugging it in.
"Found it. Plugged in, though the data-port is offl-..."
With a beep, the data port's display flickered to life, data streaming across its frosted screen as the technical magic began to work.
"Nevermind..."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Right. Now sit there, don't move.]"
"Can't I just... put the PDA down here and let it download or whatever you're doing?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[What? No, that'd be boring. It's clearly more fun if you just sit there in the most compromising position... like... duh.]"
Shaking his head with a sigh, Locke carefully positioned the PDA atop of the data port so it would lay there while Helvet worked his magic remotely. Holding his Oppressor with both hands, he shouldered it and held it low while he looked around the site, almost expecting the worst to happen. His mind dwelled back on the sniper that both shot at him and didn't, but he thought it best to not bring it up with Helvet. People just thought he was crazy anyway.
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Cracking through the telemetry now. Shouldn't take long.]"
"So we're looking for the true source of the cyberattack but... what's this site exactly? Looks awfully similar to the last one. Just can't see an entrance from here."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Not sure. It's probably modular structures. Easily deployed and maintained. Any defences there?]"
"Nope... nothing like the last site. Just a ghost town."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Uh... huh. Alright. The program's working now, just keep it connected.]"
Waiting patiently, listening to his own breathing inside of his suit and the soft, ambient wind of the atmosphere around him as he knelt there between the arms of the satellite, his gaze travelling around the endless expanse of icy horizon, scanning for threats.
"Helvet, how long is this going to take?"
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Can't rush perfection. Takes time to do it right, y'know.]"
"Part of me wonders if this is even worth the hassle. What are we going to find? Maybe there's a reason Command didn't want us out here. You know, if they find o-..."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Shush! I got something.]"
The radio went silent, Locke sitting there as he waited for an answer, not getting one.
"Well? Tell me, damnit. You're keeping me in suspense."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Locke, look at the data port now!]"
Quickly spinning around, hearing the urgency in Helvet's voice, Locke quickly brushed the screen of the data port off and leaned in, glancing at it. For a moment it didn't make sense with all the data streaming through, but eventually things began to stick out.
\\\\\ DRAKE-CLASS
[[[:::COM:::[[[ CCU-526164 ]]] NO-COM
72 e0 ab a5 79 e7 0c 9b 18 f5 cd b5 87 76 2b b0 9b 40 de d2 f2 43 87 84 7c 38 d3 ab 96 ef c6 d1
[[[:::OBSFUCATE:::[[[ FJ6-T44 ]]] DENYNSRC
[[[:::LOC:::[[[ COL 285 SECTOR GD-H ###-# ]]] !!! COMPRO !!!
RESCHED JUMP - 07 03 3308 /////"Helvet, what is this? Is... this the Solaris? Drake-class carrier? Or..."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[No. This isn't ours. Looks like they obfuscated the ID and the location is blocked and... now outdated by the looks of it. If my guess is correct, the carrier jumped yesterday.]"
"Shit... I don't understand this."
IDENT: {Sabre 1-3} "[Whoever routed that cyberattack to us used this satellite, but it originated from this vessel. A fleet carrier. One that isn't ours. One that isn't even registered or giving us a name right here.]"
"... and that explains how our enemy is so dynamic. Their resources, capabilities. Everything. This is nothing like the Crimson Venators had. It makes sense now... First it starts off with strikes here and there, then they bring in an extensive cyberattack network to test our security. People randomly go missing or... whatever. Taken away and disfigured, brutally murdered to try instil fear into us."
"This isn't some small group. This isn't some rogue special forces element like the Crimson Venators. This is a... what? This is like a fucking army. With sick motives and... with an entire goddamned fleet carrier..."
Locke paused, looking up slowly to the sky as he spotted the black Crusader streaking through the sky, rapidly descending as its landing gear popped out from the housing in its nacelles, kicking up ice and snow as it brought itself down to the ground just outside the site, the ship settling with a thud as the drives cooled down gradually.
"... hunting us down from the shadows."
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