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- >You are Anonymous, the bounty hunter, and you are currently locked inside a shipping crate.
- >As you bounce around inside the cargo hold of a transport ship, you groan loudly and shift around, trying to get some semblance of comfort.
- >A job offer came to you from the head of the Starlight Coalition, a group of companies that formed together to monopolize space travel, such as fuel companies, craft producers, and maintenance shops.
- >The proposal was simple; kill Arnold Van Damm, the chief scientist of a budding company, as well as destroy any research and experiments he and his team created.
- >The Coalition would sneak you onto the base using a dropship that had been intercepted while running supplies between a local colony and the base, using a shipping container as your ticket in.
- >You would proceed to assassinate the Arnold, and would either extract when the situation became too hot, or you killed everyone aboard the ship.
- >It wasn’t necessary to kill his crew, but for every dead scientist, you would be awarded a bonus.
- >A loud thump and the feeling of solid ground interrupt your thoughts, bringing you back to reality.
- “It’s show time,” you mutter quietly.
- >As the transport hits the ground, you hear a mechanical whirr and a thud as the ramp lowers and hits the ground.
- >You hear distant footsteps, barely audible as your pilot slams shut the door of the transport, sending a soft vibration through your crate.
- >”Hey, you aren’t the guy who was running supplies last time, what gives?” A voice asked, presumably security.
- >You suck in a load of air and ready your silenced MK 21 MOD 5, fearful that the plot had been discovered before it even began.
- >”Oh, uhh, there was a flu running around the base camp, and he got really sick, so they sent me as a replacement,” The pilot responds, cool as ice. ”We couldn’t notify you because a solar flare blocked communications from down there up to your craft satellite.”
- >”Oh, alright,” the security guard says. “Give them my sympathies, and notify us if you need antibiotics or any medication, we have plenty of them up here.”
- >You exhale quietly, resolving to sit down at a bar with the pilot and buy him a drink for saving your ass.
- >”I’ll unload the goods, notify the mechanic to recharge your Elerium cores, and you should be good to go.”
- >You feel the container you rest in being lifted up, and the guard grunts loudly.
- >”Holy hell this thing is heavy, mind giving me a hand?”
- >His arms give way and drop the container sideways, and you crash your head against the ramp of the transport, giving you a brief concussion.
- >“Hey easy now,” the pilot says. “that package is a special delivery to the science team, and it might be fragile.”
- >”Oh yeah, sorry about that.” he replies, sheepishly.
- >You feel another pair of hands grab the other side of the container, and the pilot counts down from 3 as they hoist you upwards, carrying you to their objective.
- >After what felt like an eternity of bumping into things, switching from sideways to upright to fit through doorways, your plastic prison was finally set down.
- >At this point, you would rather go and sleep off the queasiness, but sadly, a job had to be done.
- >”Hey doc!” the guard yells. “We got a special order from the colony.”
- >”Oh really?” a feminine voice responds. “I’ll take a look at it.”
- >”You need anything else doc?”
- >”No, I should be fine, thanks for the help.”
- >”No problem doc.”
- >You hear the guard exit the room, his footsteps fading as he walks down the hall.
- >”Now let’s open you up and see what the colony has in store for me.”
- >You hear a loud squawk as a crack of light comes through the box, signaling your time to act.
- >You barely register the surprise on her face before you put one right through her temple, splattering blood and brains across the wall.
- >”HEY DOC!” you hear the security guard yell.
- >” I HEARD A BANG, DID SOMETHING GO WRONG?”
- >Quickly, you drag her body to the upper right side of the room, and wait at the lower left side, knife drawn.
- >The purpose was to draw attention to the body, giving you a window of opportunity to sneak up behind the unsuspecting guard.
- >”Oh God doc… what happened?”
- >You watch him enter the room, rifle drawn, walking towards the scientist’s body.
- >You approach him cautiously, before restraining him with your left hand and holding your knife to his throat.
- >He briefly resists before he feels you slowly drag the knife across his throat, not hard enough to cut, but to make a point.
- >”Shout, struggle, or move a single damn muscle, and I will end you.”
- >You hear him gulp before he slowly nods his head.
- >”Where’s Van Damm?”
- > “Right across the hallway to the right, second door to the left,” he says quietly. “That’s the observatory; he’s doing a lab experiment in the main chamber.”
- >Satisfied with his answer, you cut his airway with your thumb, slowly strangling him, before letting go when he falls limp.
- >No sense in killing when you get nothing out of it.
- >You pick up his rifle, a MK. 21 CQR model, designed to be shorter than the outdated MK 14, more suited to close quarters, but still able to put holes in targets accurately up to 2000 meters.
- >You search his person and find four magazines, all fully topped off.
- >With your newfound rifle, you walk towards the observatory, ready to end another grueling day of work.
- >When you get to the door of the observatory, you see a keycard slide next to the door.
- >Of course, what ship wouldn’t use a keycard system for security?
- >Backtracking, you search the body of the dead scientist, and find a keycard in the back pocket of her lab coat.
- >Sliding the card on the scanner, it makes a quiet beep and flashes a green light, granting you access through the door.
- >As you enter the observatory, you notice the design, an outlook that was very similar to the higher seats of an opera theater, albeit much smaller.
- >You must’ve gone up a few flights of stairs in your box journey, explaining the bumping and bouncing about.
- >The outlook was covered with a thick plexiglass, ruling out the use as a sniper spot, but was good to use for recon of the layout of the lower level.
- > You can see three scientists, one whom you identify as Arnold Van Damm, fiddling around with a control panel, presumably to control the small, black ball fluctuating in size seemingly randomly.
- > There was nothing else to see from the observatory, so you decide to search the hallway for an elevator.
- >It didn’t take you long to find the elevator, as it was at the end of the corridor.
- >Punching the experimentation chamber button, you take a moment to recollect your thoughts, and remember the irony of the situation.
- >You have committed a count of first degree murder, assault and battery towards a security guard, and am about to possibly commit three more counts of murder.
- >Yep, just another day on the job.
- >When the elevator door opens, you see a single long corridor, and a metal door at the end of the hall.
- >A window to the right of it confirms it was the entrance to the experimentation chamber.
- “Alright Anon,” you say aloud. “It’s now or never.”
- >You wave your keycard across the scanner, and slowly the door begins to open.
- >”Hey, important experiments are being conducted!” you hear Arnold yell.
- >”Get out of the testing chamber!”
- >You can see dread pour over his face as you raise the rifle and open fire.
- >You find your mark at the head of Van Damm, and his head seemingly disappears, replaced by a fine pink mist.
- >The other two scientists have taken cover behind the control panel.
- >You sling the rifle back across your shoulder, draw your pistol, and slowly walk towards the control panel.
- >As soon as you see a lab coat, you fire two shots, turning a white coat into bloody red.
- >You hear a loud scream, and as you come closer, quiet weeping.
- >”Please don’t kill me… please don’t kill me…” a young woman quietly repeats.
- >A pang of guilt hits you, and you’re reminded of the implications of the job.
- >She was pretty, probably an intern taken under a senior scientist’s wing.
- >What a shame.
- >You raise the pistol, and you see her close her eyes, resigned to her fate.
- >As you press the trigger, all you hear is a hollow click.
- >You chuckle slightly, lowering your pistol.
- “Well young lady, my ammo management problems have saved you.”
- >She sighs in relief, before crawling backwards in fear as you unsling the rifle from your shoulder.
- “Momentarily.”
- >A loud bang then silence, was all that was heard.
- >You swap pistol mags and rack the slide, ensuring that a similar situation would never occur.
- >Damn, even you had to admit that was a bit cruel.
- >Killing them was enough; you didn’t have to send them to hell with a personal message.
- >Your thoughts are interrupted by a sound similar to a crack of thunder, which draws your attention to the concentrated wormhole in the middle of the chamber.
- >Shit, apparently Van Damm was holding the lever when you punched his ticket, and fully unleashed the wormhole.
- >You break into a sprint for the stairs, reading the guide, and heading to the third floor, where the airship dock was at.
- >As you arrive, you see the plane take off, leaving a strange device in its place.
- >You barely have time to process your betrayal before an explosion racks the ship, knocking you back through the doorway.
- >You feel the breath being sucked from your lungs, and just barely manage to close the door to the landing dock before gasping for breath.
- “Well I’m not getting out that way,” You say, sighing and climbing to your feet.
- >You look through the window, out onto the destroyed landing dock.
- >All looked normal, except for…
- >No fucking way.
- >A light green fire spread across the destroyed metal, slowly consuming it almost like an acid.
- >These guys wanted to play THIS dirty.
- >You curse loudly and begin running back down the stairs, towards the experimentation chamber.
- >Greek fire, or scientifically known as elerium-induced fire, was a phenomenon that puzzled scientists and destroyed planets.
- >Whenever pure, refined elerium was exposed to flame or an explosion of any kind, it created Greek fire.
- >It had the special property of being able to consume everything as fuel, from metal, to rock, to human flesh, leaving no traces behind.
- >It was mostly the reason elerium weapons haven’t been put into mass production, as impure elerium wasn’t a strong enough energy source, but pure was too dangerous to be handled as ammo.
- >Elerium refineries were always in special industrial ships for this exact reason, to prevent a catastrophic failure from destroying planets, other ships, and even entire solar systems.
- >You were stuck in a literal death trap, with no way out except for…
- >The wormhole.
- >You had two options at this point, jump through and untested wormhole, and possibly be dropped in the middle of space, a hostile planet, or into safety.
- >That, or burn alive with the ship.
- >Your mind made, you run through the corridor, looking for the dressing room.
- >You run inside and quickly put on a spacesuit and oxygen tank, checking for damage and running preliminary tests.
- >If you did end up in the middle of space, hopefully they would keep you alive long enough to have a spaceship pick you up.
- >You run back to the experimentation chamber and open the door.
- >At this point the wormhole has expanded to double its original size, becoming incredibly unstable.
- >Soon, it would collapse upon itself, leaving you trapped.
- >You get a running start, suck in a deep breath of air, and jump into the wormhole.
- >Inside the command center of a battleship, a man drops into a comfortable looking office chair, exhausted after a long day of work.
- >You hear three quiet knocks on the door.
- >Aww great, now of all times?
- "Come in," you say, a tinge of annoyance in your voice. "Better be worth my fucking time."
- >A shy looking soldier walks into your office, judging by his stripes, a private first class.
- >"Uhh Sir? The cover-up operation you requested was completed."
- "Survivors private?"
- >"Absolutely none sir, we scanned the area within a 1000 mile radius, no dropships or panic signals."
- >Good, that's one problem solved.
- "How about the shipment from the LSC?"
- you ask, stroking your chin.
- >"They have supplied us with P90-5 SMGs and MK 21s, as well as 200 packs of rations."
- "Hmm, that's unexpected."
- >Normally a LSC(Local Security Company) didn't have up to date weaponry, P90-5s were standard issue.
- >Deciding to celebrate, you pull a cigar from your pocket and light it.
- >"Sir?"
- "Yes private?"
- >"No disrespect, but you know those are bad for you right?"
- "So is what we do private." you say, taking a long draw from the cigar and exhale, smoke exiting your nose.
- "You're dismissed."
- >He gives a small salute and leaves, closing the door behind him.
- >Two problems solved, a good start to the new sector.
- >Unbeknownst to you, this was just the start of your problems.
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