Realistic or Modern The Beast Project

[Mr_DC]

"Listen to me, One!" Jamie was the favorite criminal of Mobville police. Someone who throws around so much bribe money has to be loved in a city as corrupt as Mobville. "I didn't know you'd be pissed! I meant to give you the bigger cut, I swear." Jamie was in his usual office at the Mobville Chariot - the fanciest hotel in the city. He was on his knees, sweating in his cream two-piece suit. Being almost fifty, Jamie learned all tricks of the trade. Who to sell to, who to buy from. Who to belittle, who to beg. But greed is what brought down bigger criminals and Jamie was just another name on the list.

​

"That's the point. It's not about getting a cut."
One was leaning on the door with his arms crossed. His deep voice rumbled and bounced around the quiet room. Picking a single white thread off his usual black suit, he continued. "I let you deal drugs in my city even though my people don't do so. I even let you transport things through without checking for content." One moved away from the door behind him. He was one of those people who seemed calm regardless of the situation. "Then I learn you sold weapons in my city. Not even Mobville Arms weapons, not that I'd allow those either." One stopped in front of Jamie, hands in pockets. One had a way of intimidating people. Not his calmness or legendary cruelty but the fact no one knew how he actually looked like.
A man covered by black bandages, not a single inch of his skin visible. Most unnerving - his eyes - covered as well but had some way of seeing.
"It was just a rifle, One." Jamie clasped his hands. "He offered me a lot of money. Please, One." His big, blue eyes teared up.
"And that one rifle was used to open fire on my soldiers." One turned his back on Jamie. "You know no one sells guns in my lands..." One stepped towards the door. "Regrettably for you, my lands are everywhere." One pushed the double doors open. Two men entered wearing combat gear. Their full body armor was ice white, matching the rifles in their hands. Glancing at his reflection in their dark tinted visors, One smirked. "Your family will get flowers from the corporation." One said, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Could have made a bigger message. Maybe blow up his office." A woman said, standing by the door. Her back was straight and head tilted back, looking at the ceiling.
"You do know Mobville Corporation owns this hotel, right?" One's bandages shifted as he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Firebomb? It would even leave a nice charred corpse to parade around the streets." The woman shrugged and followed One down the wide hallway.
"We need to get that replaced..." One tapped on the small dents on her shoulder plate. Unlike the two soldiers who entered the hotel room, she wore red armor with black details. Her plates were also thicker in places and arranged in a slightly different way which, alongside the different color, was enough to make her stand out.
The pair entered the elevator and took it down. "We're not thugs, Wolf. The right people will know what happened to Jamie." One lazily walked to the door, his hands behind his back.
"I want to keep it like this. Slight damage makes me seem more threatening." Wolf said calmly, examining her armor. "Like a soldier with scars."
"Scars are a proof of experience and toughness. They also show the soldier couldn't avoid getting hit. Do you want it to seem like you don't know where to stand when bullets start flying?" The elevator doors opened and One smirked, not looking at her. "Besides, it hurts the structural integrity of the suit."

"Point taken." Wolf said after a short pause. "Time to return to the base, sir?" She looked at One who stopped in front of the front door.
"They said it is going to rain tonight. A storm." One looked up at the night sky, the thick black clouds stopping all but smallest streaks of moonlight.
"I'm training tonight anyways. Don't have a mission." Wolf shrugged, watching One while holding the door open for him.
"Storms at night make me tense..." One sighed, still watching the sky. "You're driving tonight." One walked out of the tall building into the well-lit streets and opened the door of a town car parked by the main entrance.
"Where am I driving tonight?" Wolf asked, getting in after One.
"I'll explain everything. Just a quick delivery job for me." One rested his head on his fist as he looked out the tinted window.
"I see." Wolf nodded, looking out her window as well. "I'll get some pills from Gazelle. I don't feel tired." She said halfheartedly.

A gate to a massive cleared portion of the forest opened as soon as a soldier took a good look at the vehicle. The patrols were thick with groups of soldiers covering every inch of the fenced-in area. The car drove to one of the many bunker entrances. This one had a wide closed blast door. "Do we really need to be checked twice?" Wolf crossed her arms on her chest as the door started sinking into the ground.
"Imagine if someone got past the first gate. If they get into the motor pool and the soldiers in there don't stop them..." One smiled at Wolf until she interrupted him.
"Yes, it would be a boo-boo." Wolf sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Wolf." One turned his head away and spoke slowly. "How about you keep that behavior for someone who's not your superior?"
"I apologize sir, Director, sir." Wolf said, suppressing sarcasm and looking out her window until One focused his attention ahead.
The car started driving down after the door opened. The motor pool indeed was a security danger. Everything from tanks and artillery vehicles to trucks and limousines were parked there. "How much money did you pour into Horse's little project?" Wolf asked, scanning a massive tank in the back which seemed half finished.
"I'll see you in the main room in two minutes." One said, pushing the door open and walking away.

Wolf did the same and leaned on the car, her eyes stopping on a camera which seemed to be fixed on her. Raising a middle finger to the camera, she walked away from the car. As much respect and admiration she had for One, there was something she couldn't put a finger on that made her want to disrespect him.
"Bear." Wolf nodded slowly, looking up at a huge man who stomped over to her side. His armor was gray and bulkier than hers with no piece thinner than the other. "Come on, we have to visit the recruits." Wolf motioned her head at the door and started walking. She didn't have to look back to know he was following her. It wasn't the slow thumping of his steps. If there was anyone who would listen to her orders when not on a mission, it was Bear. A faithful bodyguard.
"I asked Lion what he thinks of the recruits. Most of them are either criminals or soldiers. Only a handful from the Academy." She snorted, relaxing her stiff posture for a moment.

"Fashionably late, eh prom queen?" A voice came through Wolf's radio as she stepped into the main room. The large room was usually filled with benches, some vending machines, the occasional plant, and several TV's, serving as a place for everyone to relax. Now, however, it was empty and a raised platform occupied the furthest part of the room. The middle was taken up by a square group of people, all watching the soldiers on the platform. Like Wolf, these soldiers wore different styles and colors of armor. In the middle was One.
Wolf looked at the soldier in green, staring back at her. The woman was wearing green armor with a small number of armor plates, most of the protection coming from the dark, rubbery material which connected the few plates she had. "How about you say that out loud." Wolf spoke into her radio as One started his speech. She knew well whatever they say doesn't leave their helmets.
"How about you listen to the boss..." The woman in green chuckled, facing the crowd, keeping her hands behind her back like everyone else. "Or did you finally give up on learning from him? After all, it's impossible for you to learn what charisma even is."
"After all these years of being picked on, Mantis, how come you don't know what a good insult is?" Wolf sighed, scanning the crowd who listened to One's every word.
"I know you two are arguing on a private channel. Show some respect and listen to the Director." Another voice came through the radio and Wolf glanced at the man in golden armour further down the line.
"Not your problem, Lion. Besides, what makes you think we're arguing?" Wolf growled.
"It would be true even if I said it in the middle of the night. Your chest plate is moving unevenly. Who else would you be talking to? Having a monologue with Bear?" The soldier turned his head to face her. "Don't answer, listen to the Director."

"...from the army know me as the person whose soldiers are taking your jobs." One nodded and received a few chuckles from the crowd. "Those of you from law enforcement know me as the person you're unsuccessfully trying to pin crimes on." He chuckled to that one himself. "I am the person who will train you. Make you the best soldiers in the world. The best may be good enough to become agents of the Beast project." He raised a hand and the soldiers by his sides saluted in unison. "Agent Cow is going to escort you to the barracks." One nodded. "Dismissed!" He raised his voice, a smug smirk surfacing on his face.
"Go easy on them, will you, fatass?" Wolf shot a private comm at Cow. "Some cannon fodder always comes in handy." She scoffed. "Why do you think we bring you on missions?" The asked, rhetorically and turned her attention to the small group of red-armored soldiers approaching her and saluting on arrival.

"We have wounded incoming from the Mexican campaign." One of Gazelle's many assistants read of an electronic pad in his hand. "They've all been stabilized but should be re-examined upon arrival." The medic gave the brown-armored Beast an apologetic look. "Director's orders. He doesn't trust the medical staff we have there."
"It's fine." The woman raised her hand dismissively, looking around. "We have a stable situation here anyway. This might be a good teaching opportunity..." She paused, crossing her arms on her chest, and looking into the distance. "Make sure the new medics join me on the examination." She ordered and the assistant made a quick note.

"They must be so scared." Lion said in a paternal tone, leaning back on a wall and watching the recruits. With a smile, he looked at the Beast by his side, seeing his own golden reflection in Crow's dark gray visor. "Do you remember your first combat situation?"
Crow laughed, looking at the recruits as well. "Of course I do. Clipped a tree with my chopper and ended up being chewed up by my CO back at base. Everyone remembers their first time."
Lion shrugged, still smiling. "Do you remember mine? Choked on the retreat... I'd be dead if not for you." Lion commented quietly, giving a slow nod to the older Beast.
"I've got your back." Crow gave Lion a friendly nudge. "You up for drinks tonight?" He grinned under his helmet.
"You know it." Lion took the offer with a pat on the shoulder.

0stinato

 

[0stinato]

The Director's presence was a pilgrimage. Beasts around the place stopped talking, their attentions drawn, the recruits were somehow calmed when watching. Some even laughed. More pity them. With everything the Director was saying, the environment became surreal. He joked about topics most would avoid. A behemoth could rip away the back of the base and no one would notice until he had stopped talking. That could be a hyperbolic assumption, but the facelessness of the Director was enrapturing without reason.

The recruits all looked so small. The majority had noticeable muscle mass and many were tall, but the Beasts dwarfed them not only in stature but in ability. The short Beasts even seemed larger. Rat, skulking around the corner of the room, was one of these. A diminutive man, he held the minimal muscle beneath his light, equally minimally-armoured black-and-blue body pieces. His visor was down, and he listened to the Director through the comms. Should anyone look closely through his visor, they would see his eyes moving swiftly around the room. When they rested, only for two or three seconds, on the recruits, he noted the way they kept themselves. Some stood with straight backs, hands at their sides, like some boy scout troop. The formality was rubbing off on other recruits around them. Rat himself was anything but formal in comparison. Standing slightly hunched in the corner, one hand on his opposite hip, the back of the other under his chin as the elbow rested on the first arm. Beasthood wasn't about formality, it was about ability.

When the Director dismissed the gathered crowd, Rat was one of the first to exit the room. He moved with vigour, snaking away to his own duties. His disappearance was equally as ignored as his presence, and not a Beast turned their head to him, nor tried to catch him.

Unlike Rat, the Beast mentioned at the end of the Director's monologue was noted. He was standing close to the recruits from the start, angled behind the group, with his arms folded beneath his ample breast. Upon the Director's dismissal, he took his place up in front of them, just as he received Wolf's comms in his ear.

He proceeded to ignore it.

He was large in every dimension: height, width and weight. He did physical dwarf most of the recruits save for a couple of extraneously tall ones who succeeded his six-foot height. His armour, with primarily white heavy plates supported by thick black material was highlighted only by fragments of pink. The noteworthy piece was the visor: it was in the shape of the skull, the eyes of which he looked through at the gathered recruits before him. He had their attentions.

"He is your Director, I am your trainer," he started. "By the time we move from this room, every one of you must be prepared to respond correctly to whatever is asked of you. I will give you a direction, and when I tell you to repeat, you repeat my direction with 'we'. You do nothing unless prompted, you do not step out of line, you do not overstep boundaries. Listen: you repeat, you do nothing unless prompted, you do not step out of line, you do not overstep boundaries. Repeat!"

Such was Agent Cow's way. The recruits repeated what he had fed them, to which he demanded they repeat again.

"Do not forget this. Should you fail to repeat appropriately, you will be disciplined. Failure to repeat indicates failure to listen. I do not train failures. Follow."

With the equivocation done, he bid them follow him once more with a twist of his hand. In this action, perceptive recruits may have noticed the cylindrical chamber to the side of his right wrist that extended a small way up his forearm. To guess what it did would be impressive, but Cow made no move to engage it. He simply walked, leading his new flock all the while being attentive to their states behind him. Twice, without warning, he raised a fist and slammed it against the nearest surface, after which he bid they, "Shut up, and keep up."

This happened once while in the barracks, to which he drew the attention of soldiers who were there. He did not look at them, but led the recruits down to their quarters. He strode, perpetually scowling behind his visor. He turned the scowl on the recruits when he stopped. With the different lighting, it was obvious they all realised they had stepped into a different world. Cow saw it in their eyes. Some were less susceptible to this emotion, but it was a steep drop from the chuckling back in the main room.

Cow raised his right arm slightly, tapped something on the cylindrical shape, then flicked his arm down again. He secured the perpendicular grip in his palm. The result was a fully telescoped steel baton, of pure black. He paused a second before speaking.

"Listen: you are to be prepared by seven, you will not complain about your training, you will not argue nor fight amongst yourselves. Repeat."

They did.

"Repeat again."

They repeated again.

"Listen: you do not wander, you do not run, you do not cause trouble for anyone higher than you. Repeat."

They repeated.

"Those higher than you is: everyone. You listen to your superiors without complaint. Repeat."

Cow looked amongst their faces and listened to their voices, and identified three recruits who failed to repeat what he had said properly. He pointed at each of them, identifying them with, "You, you, you, stand apart." As they moved, he raised a hand to his visor and removed it, revealing his grey, sparking eyes, his roman nose. He leaned towards the three singled-out recruits with a snarl distorting the tattoo upon his features.

"It does not matter if I don't say 'Listen,' you listen! You ignore nothing I say, you listen! Your attention will be on me at all times, and you listen! Repeat!"

"It doesn't matter if you say listen, we listen, we ignore nothing you say, we listen, our attention will be on you, we listen," the recruits repeated at a syncopated rhythm.

"Back in line," Cow said, slipping his visor back on while slamming the baton against the well-abused plate on his thigh. It struck, with a harsh cracking noise. "I do not train failures. Repeat."

"You don't train failures."

Whatever Wolf had said to Cow, he wasn't taking her to heart. He was the king of his craft, but a tyrannical one. After getting the recruits to repeat his line about failure twice over, more for his satisfaction than anything else, he gestured at one of his team to take over, to go through the domestic stuff, the barracks rules, the sleeping arrangements, the personal lockers. Cow didn't do that bit. He refused to do that bit. Fortunately, he was in a position where he could refuse. He strode away from his flock while his man took over, bringing up the baton and pushing it back inside its casing. He had gone through many batons, not as a result of physical combat, but more as a result of intimidation. Once, he broke it in the handgun range, to which he picked up the broken end and used it to correct the recruits' aims.

There were only a few reasons he would hit a recruit with it. Usually, he used it to single out a recruit who was displaying dangerous or inappropriate behaviour, snapping them into reality with its end while repositioning them away from their team. It was for the safety of the rest of the recruits, and for himself. If he saw a recruit pointing a gun at another, be it through an accident or otherwise, Cow would strike the recruit's elbow. The resulting strike would trigger the recruit's nerves, causing their hand to open thus resolving the danger. The technique would never work on a Beast through. Not only was there armour to contend with, but training.

And, with training in his mind, Cow left the vicinity. He had the recruits' schedules planned out and as a result had preparation to do. He would hole himself up in the armoury for a few hours while he prepared his lessons.

 

[Mr_DC]

"Rat." A voice came from one of the pristine white hallways Rat just passed. "Hey, Rat." The somewhat enthusiastic voice got closer until a figure in deep purple armor stood by Rat. Moth was one of the few assault-focused Beasts in the project. Even though such Beasts were largely appreciated, Moth always tended to be pushed off to the side in spite of his friendly attitude. Perhaps it was just that - Moth tried not to step on anyone's toes so much that he failed to be taken seriously as a person. He was just another assault Beast. Barely worth the thought in spite of his exemplary skill.

"A new influx of troopers, eh?" Moth chuckled, landing his hands on his hips. "I guess the base is going to get pretty busy. Maybe Cow is going to take it easy on the recruits this time. Would be a shame if too many dropped out. I heard that the main facility is falling behind in terms of recruiting when compared to other bases." He shrugged and let the conversation slide into silence for a few moments before continuing.
"I've heard you're not half bad in close quarters combat. Are you up for a spar against me? Just want to see how I hold my own. I'd have asked Manny but she'd wipe the floor without me before a minute passes." He let out a short laugh. "I also have an idea for an op to pitch to the Director and since you'd be starring the leading role, I'm curious what you think."


A pair of green-armored hands slapped the white back of the Beast assigned with recruit training. "What's up, big guy?" Mantis asked in a cheerful tone, walking around Cow and hopped on the counter, dangling her feet off the edge.
"Don't startle people with guns in their hands, Manny." Panda droned in her monotone voice as she walked past the pair and began searching the armory for the night vision scope for the sniper strapped on her back. "Cow." She gave a nod of acknowledgment to the Beast behind her.
"He doesn't have a gun cocked with his finger on the trigger." Mantis replied to her friend in a mockingly offended tone before looking back to Cow and rolling her eyes with a scoff. "Some people, am I right?"

Mantis pointed a finger at Cow and nodded. "The boss man said that I'm available to your recruits for endurance or hand-to-hand training." She explained. "I could actually use some encouragement to get the blood pumping." She continued more to herself than to Cow. "It's getting pretty boring being sent on short missions or to be backup."
Panda stood up, holding something in her hand, and looked at Mantis. "You're going with me tomorrow."
"...Or watch her pale ass while she takes pot shots at someone in the next postcode." Mantis crossed her arms on her chest and looked away. "So feel free to include me in your training." She returned to her cheerful tone and looked back at Cow.

"You two." Wolf said from the doorway, pointing at Mantis and Panda. "Fuck off. Private conversation." She ordered calmly. Panda was about to walk straight up to Wolf to stare her down when she noticed One enter the room right after Wolf.
"We were going anyway." Panda grumbled walking by Wolf and One while Mantis took her time. She hopped off the counter skipped over to the door, giving Wolf a middle finger on her way out.
"Bring them in line, One." Wolf turned to face the Director once the pair left the room.
One cleared his throat and walked up to Cow. "You were the one with the unprofessional tone." One shot a quick look at Wolf over his shoulder. "It's not why we're here." He ended whatever retort Wolf opened her mouth to spit out, and looked at Cow.

"You and Wolf are heading to the docks. Now." He began explaining. "There will be an unmarked black truck waiting for you in front of our warehouse in half an hour. Take one of our cars and bring the truck over. Utmost importance, low risk." He raised a hand. "No questions. Just get the truck back to the base, carefully. Send a pair of recruits to return the car the next morning." One paused, looking at both Beasts. "Understood?
Wolf gave One a disinterested shrug. "We already spoke about this."


"Doctor Gazelle?" A medic ran up to the Beast in the hallway as she was making her way to her office. While Wolf enforced the rule of addressing the Beasts as Agents, Gazelle made it clear to everyone working on the medical team that they are to refer to her as doctor Gazelle and that she expected them to address one another in the same way. She had no intention is allowing a strict hierarchy to seep into the surgery room. Her medics had to be confident enough to challenge her opinions and actions if they believed she was incorrect. Sharp minds saved lives.

"Yes?" She stopped and turned around. She knew the medic well. Even though the young man was almost half her age, he always made the extra effort to attempt to include Gazelle into the social activities of the other medics - something Gazelle was always too busy to do herself. Even though it wasn't obvious to anyone, least of all him, Gazelle rewarded his attention with a slightly more relaxed attitude. A more sympathetic tone of voice. A more favorable outlook.
"Some members of the medical team were going to play basketball in the rec room and we'd like to join us. If you have the time, of course." He explained, standing with his back perfectly straight, his chin up, and chest out.

"Thank you, doctor Cedric." Gazelle gave him a short nod. "I'm afraid the Director has me working on some high priority assignment tonight." She smiled. "Besides, I haven't played basketball since high school."
"You couldn't have gotten that rusty in just a couple years." He smiled, receiving a hearty laugh at his blatant flattery from the head medical officer. Gazelle was glad she kept her helmet on, otherwise her cheeks would burn even brighter red. "You deserve a night off, don't you? We're all looking forward to having some downtime with you."
"Not tonight, I'm afraid." Gazelle clasped her hands behind her back. "I'll see about clearing my schedule for tomorrow evening, alright? No promises."
"Alright ma'am. Good luck with your assignment." Cedric said before turning around and leaving the doctor. Gazelle let out a short chuckle, shook her head, and headed to her office. It was an important night, after all. It would be just One, her, and an offsite engineer. A night they've been waiting for for years.

 

[0stinato]

The main room was threatening as the span of a universe when compared to the hallway. The awareness of the three dimensions of the room being closer to his skin and psyche lifted Rat's chest and opened his diaphragm. He became aware of himself breathing easier only when his name was called. His mind, shifting into self-knowledge, went through the mental checklist of his faculties before identifying the voice as he turned. He stepped to the side as Moth approached, closer to the wall, not willing to hold a conversation out in the centre of the hall. He let Moth make a few observations on the recruits, studying the tone and depth of the Beast's vocal timbre. When he did eventually talk, he did so while tilting his chin slightly. Although the purple-suited Beast was taller than him, he still scrutinised the man, looking down his nose at Moth.

"I wouldn't hold your breath over Cow," he said, a hint of emotion creeping into his quiet voice. "He's a brute. I dislike his manner. If recruit numbers drop too low, I'll personally recommend him for disciplining. But let's forget him," and so they did. Moth brought up a different subject to which Rat made no move from his position, except to click his tongue as Moth called Mantis by an epithet. "I'll hear you out on your op plan, and we may as well spar in the meantime. I hope our styles don't clash too much. Although perhaps that is the point. If you are eager to begin, let's not waste time."

He turned and began walking, his end point having changed. If a spar was what Moth desired, Rat would deliver. It was valuable for him to learn: he could know the theory of every Beast if he so desired, but occasionally it took a punch to the jaw to set a solid understanding of the Beasts in his mind. "It is not often I'm placed in a lead role, so I admit I am curious. If anyone is chosen for something in my field, it is not me: it's Swan. I don't mind being her shadow. So that leads me to my question for you." He allowed a silent moment while he looked over his shoulder at the taller Beast. "Why me, and not her?"



Standing with his back towards the door had been a technique employed to forego conversation with anyone who might strut through the door, but it wasn't working. Cow, holding a tablet, while he input the serial codes of gun types in preparation for the recruits' simple weapon recap training - which would come before any other training but after their initiation, for which Cow was planning an elaborate and perhaps midnight raid on their barracks - mistyped as he was suddenly hit on the back while Mantis gave a chirpy greeting to emphasise her arrival. Panda was with her, if only a few seconds behind. His plan for solitude had failed.

So he gave in to the discussion after correcting his mistake, and tilted his head to Panda in similar greeting before noting that Mantis had occupied the counter. Her tone was encouragingly cheerful, so Cow put elected to put his bad attitude to rest for a few minutes while Mantis spoke.

"If you don't mind perhaps getting shot, neither do I," he said. "Only a short walk to the infirmary anyway." He picked up the handgun on the counter whose number he was copying and span it around his hand with a shrug while he listened to her talk about her free schedule. Her mention of endurance training piqued his interest and he caught the butt of the gun in his palm as he tilted his head.

"Endurance... well... if you're free after your mission tomorrow, or just late one night - say, 1 am, 2? - I could indeed find some endurance training to do. That is... if you don't mind it being slightly off the record. I don't train recruits until they're... integrated," although his face was hidden by his visor, his voice's gravelly pull was revealing of his amusement. "Or if you want to simply watch I won't be opposed to--"

He looked up at the doorway as yet another Beast infiltrated his once-silence and laid the gun down as Wolf bade the other two Beasts leave.

"Oh, wonderful," he muttered, laying down the gun. "I'm popular."

Panda moved to Wolf, just as the Director graced the room. Cow saw her spine snap to position, and became glad he had dropped the gun when he did. He wasn't about to stand up straighter for One's presence, but the least he could do is not handle a gun. That would give his dog the final excuse she needed to snap at his neck. When he saw Mantis flip Wolf off, he didn't react: those two were rivals. Cow didn't have time for rivals.

Instead, he listened to the director, absorbed the information. "Yes... understood." There was no more reason for him to mess with the weapons, so he slotted the handgun back into its place and stowed the tablet, before coming closer to Wolf, his partner-to-be for the mission.

"Sounds like the perfect mission for you, puppy. Fetching something."



On anybody else, the navy-blue armour would be a hindrance to dexterity. It was one of the most bulky armours, sporting very thick plates. It was crafted with intricate detail in the joints, with telescoping armour joints, although these were kept to a minimum: they weakened the integrity of the armour overall. On the Beast's back was where the telescoping armour really shone: as strong as any other plate, the expensive sliding plates provided dual protection, both from piercing and bludgeoning attacks. Because the Beast spent much of his time in different variations of a crouching position, except when he was, like now, running, his back was vitally protected.

The armour and its style had given him his Beast name, a name that came so naturally to his appearance that it fell into place: Armadillo. He was a beast who specialised in defence, defensive strategies and, although to a lesser extent, physical brunt. In Rat's eyes, Cow was a brute. But Armadillo was the king of brutes.

Armadillo ran while deep in thought, his armour not slowing him down. He had finished deadlifting a while ago, and so had chosen to tone down his exercise with a few laps outside. His arms had screamed, but now were soothed by their comparatively easy flow, pumping and pushing the Beast onwards. The humid air filled his lungs easily, and he sweated, but kept pace. The alternative to outside training in the breathy air was an air-conditioned gym, but Armadillo rarely ran in there. Whenever he trained in there, there would forever be the Beast whose gaze was the only thing piercing enough to penetrate his armour. Those little eyes, that slyness, the... the moustache, Armadillo avoided that Beast wherever he could.

Rat had for years compared Armadillo to Bear. Despite the fact Armadillo was not married by occupation to any other Beast, and rather served any Beast on the field at a moment's notice, staring into gunfire and acting as a wall and combatant in physical confrontations, the two had very few differences anyway. Their only similarity that Armadillo could see was their quiet attitudes. When Armadillo talked, he did so with a respectful quiet and a gentle understanding. He could joke adequately, flirt minutely, and sip down a tall glass of liquor if required. He would do his best to keep out of Rat's way, but Rat made it his personal mission to be beneath Armadillo's feet whenever he could.

Armadillo's only refuge was away from the base, a place Rat was incredibly hesitant to go. The man could scarcely hold his breath in the main room. But in a small space, such as the distance between two pieces of gym equipment, his nerve was heavy, and he struck at Armadillo with his words, with his eyes, with his sharp manner.

Armadillo's only defence was to remain silent and concentrate on his sets.

The big beast felt his feet hitting the turf more strongly, and decided to, for a change, unleash his anger. His rage was translated into his legs, giving Armadillo a sprint which lasted thirty seconds before he came to a halt, breathing hard. With the bottom part of his face plates removed for ease during his exercise, he did not have to suffer the tinted visor around his eyes fogging up. His visor fogged up much more often than his glasses did, which was somehow amusing in a far-off way. But for now, in contact lenses and solitude, he breathed the air and recovered.

He stood his ground for a while, his back to the base, and stretched his muscles to de-stress them after his exercise. He would go back into the base soon and check on his responsibilities, then return to the main hall if nothing needed him, the only other place Rat was hesitant to go. Armadillo nodded to himself as he began walking back, taking his mind off Rat, tuning his thoughts to the memory of the George Orwell book he was half-way through.

 

[Mr_DC]

Wolf snorted, turning her back on Cow. "What kind of an insult is that meant to be?" She asked in a condescendingly amused tone while examining the right wrist of her armor. She was certain it was sticking but didn't take the time to have it checked yet. She would have to get a replacement glove which would be worse than a tiny loss of mobility and she didn't want to have One asking questions. As soon as any issue with a part of the Beast armor cropped up, One himself would get involved and often bring Panda in for consultation as well. The pair was obsessed with keeping the Beasts on the cutting edge, One more so than the mute.

Looking over her shoulder while wiggling her arm left and right, Wolf shook her head. "You realize you're doing the fetching as well, don't you?" Propping her arms on her hips, Wolf turned around and tilted her head to the side. "If I'm a puppy, I'd hate to think what kind of an ungodly combo you got shat out of. I thought you just looked like you were missing a chromosome but you..." She shook her head sucking in a breath through her teeth. "You're munching on crayons too, aren't you?" She quickly raised a hand and sighed. "As much as I'd love to stand here and trade insults with you - it's like playing chess with a vegetable - it's 32 hours since I slept and I'd really just like to get this over with." Wolf paused, a smirk spreading behind her mirrored visor. "Shall we, kretin?"


"Is Armadillo coming with us?" An older man asked, his thinning jet black hair was sprinkled with the occasional gray strand. His calm face was scribbled with wrinkles. Rubbing one of his friendly, grey eyes Crow smiled at the other man.
Lion, wearing a leather jacket paused. Giving Crow an awkward smile while scratching the back of his head, Lion shrugged. "Sorry." He chuckled. "Forgot to ask him. Why don't you get the car ready, I'll find him." Lion offered and Crow smiled, heading into the garage.

Hands in pockets, Lion headed topside after asking around the base for Armadillo's location. The night was already falling heavy and cold but there was something more. A sense of dread filled the normally calm Beast. Something had him on edge and he didn't know what it was. Lion scratched his slicked back, golden hair again and spotted the big Beast in the distance. While he wouldn't head out with such an unidentifiable weight on his chest, Lion had an obligation to fulfill to his friend. They needed to relax. Get their mind off work. Lion just hoped he could wrangle Armadillo to join them. Having a more numerous company might disperse the anxiety building up in him. "Hey." Lion smiled when Armadillo came closer to the base. "Doing some training?" He asked, his hands still in the pockets of his jacket. The night was definitely turning colder and colder. "Crow and I are heading for drinks. We can wait for you if you'd like to join us." He offered, motioning his head towards the entrance to the massive underground garage.


Gazelle intertwined her fingers over her stomach as she headed to her office. It would be a long night. Most of the staff would be deep asleep when she would be living the night she feared. Nothing to go wrong but... It would still be an important night. Anything important had to hold some danger in it as well. Gazelle sighed and let her arms hang by her side as she came closer to her office. At least there was a more relieving sight in front of her office. Slumped on the bench by the door was a figure in deep blue armor. "Poor thing." Gazelle chuckled, coming closer to the sleeping Beast. "Koala?" She whispered, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Hey..." She smiled when the Beast raised her head. "Did you need me?"

"Yeah..." Koala dragged out her words as she spoke. "The Director told me to come see you." She said slowly. Most of the Beasts quickly lost patience with Koala but Gazelle understood the woman. It was the side-effects of being an experimental specialty Beast. The least Gazelle could do to make up for her part in it was have patience. "Said..." She trailed off, her head bobbing left and right on her shoulders. "Said you have another dosage for me." Koala caught her train of thought and Gazelle softly nodded.
"Yes. Yes, I do. It should help with the narcolepsy." Gazelle said as she grabbed Koala's arm, helping her stand up. "Come into the office. I'll administer it right away."

 

[0stinato]

"If we're grading each other's insults," Cow said, "you get an F, because if you're implying I look like I have Down Syndrome, I'd have an extra chromosome. I wouldn't be lacking one. As for the rest..." he took an exaggerated breath and let it out in an equally exaggerated sigh, a sigh that bent his back and drooped his shoulders. "Not worth the effort. You get an F, see me after class."

The armoury backdrop was a convenience at least. Cow took the usual .50 caliber pistols from their positions in the stands, slotting them into the collapsible holsters on the sides of his thighs. He preferred the ease of access his thighs offered: hip holsters made his already-wide silhouette even wider. Ammunition was next, but Cow had long ago decided to sacrifice some the storage space he had with a cigarette case. As he saw it, he could slot in fuel for the weapons next to fuel for himself. Clips rubbed shoulders with the scratched stainless steel of the case, roughing the edges further.

He retrieved one of the pistols as practice as he rejoined Wolf, inspecting it with his finger off the trigger.

"Once I made a recruit fire this pistol," he said, his tone receptive. "Some deep-south kid, dicking around on the rapid-fire range. Complaining to other recruits he'd fired bigger guns in his sleep. I believed him, he was quite accurate, even at rapid-fire, for a recruit at least. 7.5 accuracy or so. Anyway, I didn't like his tone. So I took this one out, told him to fire it. He got two shots in, and the recoil caused his fingers to lock up for a while. Hit the tendons hard." Cow raised his head, slotting the pistol back. "He doesn't complain anymore. Anyway... shall we get on with it... if you've not slept in 30 hours, best if I drive. I had a nap last week, I think."

As Cow began to walk, he rolled his shoulders, then his neck, and finally loosened the muscles in his arms. Although his armour fit to the specifications of his body, and even supported him, no amount of technology could stop the gravity of it on his back. The Beast didn't spend much time outside of his armour, given he wasn't prone to having fun. Unless giving high-caliber guns to recruits and watching the ensuing agony counted as fun. The recruit had to go off to the medical wing after the incident, but as far as Cow knew, the recruit hadn't specified Cow had personally injured him...

It was a shame Cow would be soon driving a much more difficult vehicle. He pondered the garage full of quite mundane-looking sedans. He could take any. Plain. Simple. Easy. Anyone could drive it. Even if they were half-dead from a stroke, or so Cow decided as he chose one. Two non-armoured Beasts were there in the garage as he and Wolf walked in, and Cow almost didn't recognise who they were. Faces weren't important: armour was. He gave them a nod as he passed, before arranging his large form in the car. At least he could slide the seat back.




Armadillo was similar to Cow in that he rarely doffed his armour. But he was doing it now, with the assistance of a few pegs in the privacy of his quarters, with a raised smile pulling his mouth into a shy pout. He was going quickly, with only the minimum regard to safety as he climbed out of it, piece by piece. Like a crab shedding its external shell, Armadillo emerged, ruffling the heat out his hair in the newborn weightlessness. He dressed in a similar fashion, with some speed. The only informal piece of his attire was the lack of a tie, but for the rest of his form he was dressed smart. His shoes still shone from the last function he attended. His glasses, delicate and silver-rimmed, winked light as he slid them on, his final action before leaving his quarters and heading to the garage: he had told Lion to wait for him there, and had apologised in advance for the time he would make them wait.

Armadillo looked around every corner as he went through the complex: his waking mind was on Lion and his evening plans, but his subconscious eye was certain it would see--

Rat.

Armadillo caught a glimpse of the light blue armour highlights, the shorter-than average height, the posture, of a Beast walking alongside the dark-purple-suited Moth. About sixty feet ahead, on the same track as Armadillo wanted to walk down. It was only a few moments and he would be outside, and a few more moments and he'd be back with Lion and Crow.

Armadillo risked it. He raised a hand to his hair, smoothing the ruffles from it, but swallowed as he joined the corridor behind Rat and Moth. His eye switched from their backs to the outside exit. Speeding his walk, Armadillo wagered he could slip through the door before Rat could identify him: he was out of his armour after all which, ironic as it was, lent the defensive Beast a thin defense of anonymity.

Or so he thought.

Rat did hear Armadillo and turned his head, the visor reflecting back to Armadillo his widening eyes. Armadillo felt the Beast's eyes, and knew he was recognised. His instincts took over: Armadillo's posture changed, and he moved shoulder-first, approaching Rat and slipping past him to the door, throwing it aside. He maintained eye contact with Rat the whole time, as if Rat was an impossible enemy, one he could not afford to lose track of... but he was free.

If Rat made a remark towards him, he did not hear, he only smiled with delight in the open air, his route to the garages now open and unable to be interrupted. A swarm of locusts could invade and he would have greater joy walking through them than he would have meeting Rat's eyes.

"I am sorry again," Armadillo said, having eventually made it to the garage. "It's not easy getting it all off. I am happy to be coming with you."

 

[0stinato]

Moth clasped his hands behind his back as the pair headed towards the training area. Moth had enough experience in there already as he tried to learn as much as he could from other Beasts either through observation or, as he was about to do, through participation. “I wouldn’t say that you and Swan are in the exact same field and that’s the difference here. Swan takes her time, working an operation for months until she has a clear path to her target. This time, time is of the essence. I don’t believe Swan can do as good of a job as you when it comes to acting on the run.” He gave the Beast a friendly smile but quickly added. “It’s not my call, though. I’ll propose you and see what the Director thinks.” He let out a short laugh. “I’m sure you want more details, though, right?”

“How well you seem to know me,” Rat said. “More details is exactly what I want… so I can discuss it also with myself. I don’t want to hear any vagueness from you. The more vagueness I hear, the less I’ll spar.”

Moth chuckled at the eagerness of his partner. “Have you heard about the weather disaster in Chile?” He asked, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked.

“A little. Hard not to. That is, hard not to if you take an interest in current affairs… there are some people around here who don’t have that interest. But yes, I’ve heard about it. How does it relate to us?”

Moth pointed a Rat as if saying that that’s the perfect question. “It doesn’t relate to us. I don’t know how well you follow the market but one of Epsilon Corporation’s competitors, Mejia Vista, has a server farm in Chile. See where I’m going with this?” He smirked.

Rat tilted his head slightly, but before he could say anything, his body whipped round until he was facing backwards. Stood completely stationary, his eyes were pointed at the man coming up behind them. Suited in black, with a white undershirt, Villem Doncaster: Armadillo without his armour. He was off somewhere, but not on official business. The large man, shoulders broad and defensive, started towards the two, but Rat kept his stance relaxed. Moth’s business had requested his ears only, and Armadillo had no business anywhere near it.

The man left the corridor, and Rat stared after him for a few seconds before rejoining Moth. “Best not let some people get wind of this before it’s fully grown,” he said. “But yes… I see where you are going… if I say… ‘accident,’ is that roughly where you are heading with this?”

His eyes, shielded by the visor, switched between looking up at Moth as he spoke, and following Armadillo as the zero-armour Beast walked beneath the vast expanse of the sky.

Moth paused as he waited for Rat. There was certainly something between the two Beasts. Something that Moth had noticed before. Some unpleasantness he wasn’t able to define. “Everything alright?” He asked, putting their original topic on hold as they continued on their way to the training area.

“Alright now, yes… Armadillo just doesn’t know how to act around here,” Rat spoke as if the other Beast’s name was some bitter poison. “I’d suspect he was sneaking on us, but I won’t give him the credit for that. As I said, some people ought not hear. You said it ought to remain between us for now, after all. And the Director later… but speaking of him… is this a plan he would get behind?”

Moth nodded along to Rat’s explanation, curious at the lack of information about the relationship between the two Beasts but he would try to find out more later. “Mejia Vista is moving their servers soon. Shipping them off Chile.” Moth’s tone shifted slightly toward pride. He resisted the urge push his chest out as he continued. “The data we could steal is invaluable. One would definitely want to get his hands on it.” Moth explained as the pair entered the training area.
From pillars rising up from the floor to bringing in various obstacles from the nearby storage area, the large Beasts’ private training area was easily modified to suit its users’ needs.

Contrary to Moth speaking fluidly, Rat crossed the threshold into the training area with a rising sense of sickness. His eye darted from obstacle to obstacle, identifying places he could press himself, and his pulse slowed with the knowledge. He shook as much feeling into his hands as he could, his strength having been momentarily sapped by the open room’s expansiveness. He cleared his throat and got his head back into the conversation.

“How much security would there be upon moving them? Or, no, before that, where would they be going to? You’ve evidently… formulated a scheme already… We should get set up, also. I’d like to feel comfortable, so a corner would suit me best. If you don’t… mind.” It wasn’t a question of minding - Rat spoke with emphasis on the last sentence. If Moth minded, it would cause more of a disruption.

“The servers are going to Hong Kong.” Moth sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Once they’re there, we lose our window of opportunity. Taking data then would just devolve into a firefight. We have a higher chance to do it during the move.” He shrugged, looking around the training area. “There should be a lot of people going in and out. Easy for you to slip in and get what we need, right?” He smiled and got back to the first question. “The place will be crawling with security, though. They will be moving their technological edge. Not something they’d want to lose.

Moth placed his hands on his hips and scanned the area. He had all the intention of letting Rat win the fight but throwing it was a fine art and setting up the playing field was key. Rat asking for some place where he felt more comfortable… Was perfect. “No problem, partner.” Moth smiled and motioned his hand at one of the corners. “Are you fine with doing it in armor? Or would you like to do it human to human.” Moth knew that most Beasts preferred fighting in armor as that is what they normally wear in combat situations but some Beasts like Mantis dominated in either field.

The smaller Beast’s pace quickened as he neared the corner, and confidence returned to his flesh. “Armour is fine… Preferable.” Rat’s mind went to Armadillo, and the thought of stepping out of his own armour, even for a progressive purpose made him snarl. Rat rolled his shoulders and raised his forearms in a block, assuming an equally defensive stance, his knees slightly bent to lower his centre of gravity. “I see why you came to me and not Swan in this case. Of course… she would excel here I am certain, but you clearly need a more practiced hand. As it is, your plan is fairly sound. But difficult to execute. I have another query. Will other companies be… trying the same move as we would be? If you say the easiest place to strike is in transit, what is the probability another corporation has the same idea as you?”

“Good question.” Moth commended the Beast as he tilted his head to one side, straining his neck until he heard a crack. He repeated the move on the other side. “One will likely do the strategic thinking here…” Moth began as he raised his hands in a much lower block. He would take it easy at first. “I assume that it will be a popular target but we’re the only interested party who owns a versatile private army. We are the only ones who can take the servers when the security is at its highest - before the transit.” He finished and opened with a jab at Rat’s side while keeping the other arm raised for defense.

Rat’s light armour did little to fend off the jab thrown, but he took the hit and didn’t yet decide to unleash something of his own. Moth was keeping his own defenses up, and it wouldn’t take the taller Beast much time to reverse something Rat threw at him. “It doesn’t matter how high the security is, as long as I know what to expect.”

His eyes stayed stationary on Moth’s visor while his mind searched his peripheral vision for an opening. A hold, he would go for a hold. To try to break through Moth’s medium armour was unrealistic but not mad: it would have to be a feint, followed up by a reversal the next time Moth struck. Rat switched his stance, leaning on his less dominant foot, ready to take Moth’s next blow.

“One will have to find that out.” Moth smiled. “He’s the one with spies all over the world. But I assume it will be some expert corporate security on site.” Moth decided to increase his activity and shift his weight from one foot to the other. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in? Stealing data?” He paused, the pitch of his voice rising with curiosity. “Got any experience in that?” He asked, moving with the hope of striking Rat’s side with his knee.

“If you know anything about me,” Rat said quietly, “it’s that data is invaluable to me. That saying, knowledge is power--” Rat saw him move and chose his moment, bringing his left elbow forward in a striking position, before switching his position, and locking his right arm around Moth’s left as he closed the gap between them. It was a one-sided grapple, that left Moth’s other side open. “-- and that saying is more true than people know. As for experience, it’s just like stealing anything, but I’m good with data. It’s what I do.”

Moth grunted in fake surprise at Rat’s attack, putting on a show satisfying to himself. “Well…” Moth saw he wasn’t in a position to do any quality strike at Rat in the position he was in. At least, not with his free arm. “I might have something else you might find curious.” Moth said as he attempted to spin, bringing in Rat who he was locked in with. “But, can I trust you won’t abuse it?” He asked, quickly moving his foot to swipe Rat and bring him down on the floor.

“If I was suspected of abusing anything, or that I would abuse something, I’d not be in the Program.” Rat’s grip on Moth’s arm was solid and he didn’t move to attack. If Moth moved, or went for a low strike as intended, Rat would either bring Moth down with him through unbalancing them both, or he would reverse their balance. “And talking of abuse, you don’t think it’s going to be that easy, do you?”

“You might get me in trouble if you abuse it.” Moth said and swiped Rat’s foot, bringing him down and falling as well. On his way down, Moth did his best to land on Rat and cause some damage but he felt it was time to let Rat win the fight. He didn’t want to push it too far and strain his ability to fake a loss. On the floor, Moth gave Rat time to make the next move. “That’s what has me worried.”

Rat, as was his speciality, slipped and wriggled from the grapple, recognising it was about time to let go. In the time Moth remained on the floor, Rat was up. He dropped again within a second, bringing one knee onto Moth’s wrist, and striking at his neck. The vital spots, all ran through Rat’s brain. Some were unreachable, but in the spaces between the plates, Rat attacked. With one thumb pressing into the knot of nerves near the collarbone, and the other hand occupied with a stunning jab to the neck, the techniques were basic, but effective. It was all Rat had often, so he relied on them

“Then why,” Rat increased pressure on the knot of nerves, “did you ask me in the first place?”

Moth moaned, trying to push Rat off himself. “Alright, alright, you win.”

“Answer my question then. And get to the point,” Rat stood, his eye on Moth’s movements as he backed off. “I’d offer you my hand but likely you’d pull me down again.”

Moth chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. “I play fair, alright?” He smiled, pointing at Rat. “You did well. Good fight.” He commended his partner and scratched the back of his head instinctively even though he wore a helmet.
Satisfied that Rat couldn’t see the smirk behind his tinted visor, Moth continued. “I just thought you might find it interesting.” He started, walking closer to Rat. “I tinker in my free time and, being too curious for my own well-being, I try to get into the Program’s databases. Just for curiosity, of course.” He quickly added in a defensive tone. “Nothing malicious. You understand curiosity better than anyone, right?” He smiled and continued without waiting for an answer. “Well, I found a way to get access to certain data chunks.” He stopped in front of Rat. He didn’t want to lay it all bare without some input from his partner. Rat needed to ask for more.

Moth didn’t roll his shoulders, correct his stance or anything when he got up. In response, Rat folded his arms and let his head tilt back. “Perhaps you ought to do technical espionage if that’s what you do for fun. I hope you report the ways you breach into the databases. If you can get in, other people could, surely.”

Moth shrugged. “I don’t have the nerve to do it. It’s a bit too tense. Don’t you get frightened when you infiltrate something?” He shook his head, one hand on his hip. “I start trembling when I just lie.” He lied.

“I don’t think anyone else could get in…” He paused to think. “Only if they kill or turn a Beast but we both know how unlikely that is.” He smiled and motioned his hand at Rat. “You’re right, though. I’ll probably just head to One or Wolf or Cow and tell them about it.” He finished, half turned to Rat, half to the door. Rat wasn’t clinging to his offer but there was still a chance he might take the bait. And if not, there is always another way in.

“No, I don’t get frightened,” Rat said. His top lip was raised in an increasing expression of disbelief. “Pretty terrible if you do. You can’t have a weakness as a Beast, and you’re laying yours thin. And why would you go to Wolf or Cow about this? Their heads are filled with sod, Moth. I’m starting to see why people don’t put stock in you. Do you even think?”

Moth froze in place. He was silent for a few moments. “Perhaps I don’t.” He nodded slowly and glanced at Rat. “I’ll propose the mission to One tomorrow.” He turned away from Rat and headed towards the exit. “See you around.”

“If fate’s cruel enough,” Rat said, watching the purple-suited Beast leave. He had been initially impressed, but now there was a bubbling sense of unease in his mind. He would follow the discourse between them - One and Moth - but now he knew what Moth was capable of, he would have to be careful.

Moth walked out of the training area, mind buzzing with thoughts. There still was one agent his was working on and was definitely more promising than Rat turned out to be. Waving to a distant guard as he walked through the halls, Moth quietly grumbled. He might have shot himself in the foot by sharing that little piece of information. Blown a part of his cover. As long as he kept playing the part, though, One shouldn’t act on anything even if Rat went ahead to twist his arm.
Moth headed out of the main bunker and stopped by the entrance. He would have to focus his efforts on Panda. As cutthroat as she is, if he promised her the information he knew she wanted, she could vouch for him whenever he needed.

 

[Mr_DC]

The sting of dockside air rushed through the A/C before the docks came into view. The cranes and heavy machinery were greyed against the darkening sky, and scraped the atmosphere, impervious to the Beast-powered sedan approaching. No crane was in motion: they slept with the landscape. In daylight, the docks might have been a colourful patchwork in all dimensions, with shipping crates of varying shades. Each had highlights of rust, although some were better kept than others.

Cow drove without a word. Neither the crates, nor the families they were stacked in, interested his eye. Automatic floodlights kept a dim watch over the edges of the docks, and Cow stayed just out of their beams, not wanting to face a sudden brightness when his eyes had grown to accept the night. It was simply a matter of driving alongside the wall of crates through shallow pools of seawater until the vehicle One had specified came into view.

Snaking through the labyrinth of crates was pointless. They were paths made for forklifts and for the swinging hooks of crane, not for the sedan. The outside track was hardly a road either, but it was preferable. There was space for Cow to maneuver. There was something to look at too. With the truck not yet in their way, Cow let his eye wander. The ocean, beyond guardrails and the bodies of ships, churned alone, the white sprays of the heads of waves invisible and stolen by darkness. The ocean swallowed light and Cow’s thoughts for a second until he noticed a gentle bend in the track. He tilted the wheel and let the car glide round, then returned to his lounging. It was the way he drove: he sat back and kept barely a thumb on the wheel.

“What d’you reckon One would do if I just drowned us both right here?” he said, gliding the car a few centimetres closer to the barrier.

Wolf felt the weight of her exhaustion float in her head. The eventless ride to the docks, her silent partner, the darkness enveloping them all added to the attention suffocating atmosphere. Wolf fought to stay awake but as the low fog near the docks got thicker so did the fog in her mind. The idea of throwing insults at Cow crossed her mind but she would be shooting without ammo.

With the car smoothly gliding into the docks area, Wolf remembered what the frightening thing about falling asleep was. The one thing she could fight with all her strength but always lose. The dark, lifeless docks with maze-like stacks of containers only drew her nightmares out to the surface.

Wolf felt her breathing pick up the pace as she looked up at the massive cranes towering above them. Only silhouettes with hooks not even dangling. There wasn’t a gentle hum of the wind. Even the engine was practically silent, smothered by the dull buzzing in Wolf’s ears.

She had lost the battle. Her eyes were fully open but dull. Unfocused. The exhaustion behind them was crawling forward. Her vision was going black but that didn’t matter. She couldn’t focus on anything ahead anyway. The calm, dark sea was inviting her.

The idiot spoke. The darkness drew back and Wolf blinked several times, wetting her cold, dry eyeballs. She turned to face Cow, a stupefied look on her face for a couple seconds. She quickly regained control of herself and, in spite of being thankful for being woken up, spat out an annoyed reply. “First of all, I’m not just gonna sit in the car as it’s sinking and be all like ‘Oh dear me, it appears my life has come to an end’. The only one you’re going to drown is yourself.” The blow on the simmering embers inside her awoke her enough to at least return to the base. Enough to get Gazelle to prescribe sleeping pills. “Second…” She narrowed her eyes and hissed at Cow. “Shut the fuck up and let’s get the fucking truck out of here.”

After straightening the car’s trajectory, Cow took both hands off the wheel to stretch. Her tone had brought the reality back. His arms cried out for attention. His legs too, but they would have to wait a while.

“You don’t think I’d hold you down with me?” he said as he loosened his shoulders. “I’d do that, Wolf, you know I would do that for you. I’d hold you down and pull your helmet off and help you die. Buuut, if you insist, we can get the fucking truck out of here first.”

He didn’t put his hands back on the wheel as he brought the car to a halt. He just crossed them over his chest as he spoke. His hand touched the wheel only to provide leverage as he climbed out, and by then the journey was being wiped from his memory. He didn’t need that. Instead, his mind made room for the truck. His eyebrows raised as he saw it. Semi-auto, and its trailer was the size of a lane. It had a large grille taking up the front of the cabin.

“Shit. Bigger than I assumed. What the hell is in-- actually, nevermind, I don’t care,” his tone went from a sudden awe to the grunting tenor he was accustomed to as he moved towards it. His legs got their exercise, got to stretch, as did his lungs. He felt their capacity expand as he breathed the dockside air. The chill of it touched his spine, dried his throat, woke him up. It would be a missed feeling when he was inside the cabin. When he was up beside the truck, it was almost intimidating: it’s black form gave the colours of the night their vibrance. He didn’t stop to look though. He just opened the door and hoisted himself up.

Wolf got out of the car, using the door as a crutch, ignoring Cow’s comments. She didn’t like his tone nor his words but not in the same way she disliked Mantis. When Mantis said something, Wolf was ready to snap at her. Cow just made her tired. Drain her will to argue.

Wolf watched him head to the truck and enter it. The truck was absolutely massive. It was rivaling even the military convoys. She gulped at the next thought that crossed her mind. If the size was mostly for defense then it could very well be used to transport a nuclear weapon. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Walking slowly to put great care into every step and avoid seeming clumsy, Wolf approached the cabin. Unlocked. Even if he wanted to keep a low profile, One wouldn’t be that careless. She looked around, scanning the dark rooftops and cranes. She didn’t see anyone but she knew… There had to be someone there. Watching them. Looking over the truck. Making sure no one stole it. “How many snipers do you think are watching us?” She asked quietly after climbing in.

“Snipers?” he said, before starting the truck. Then he let the window down about half a foot. “How about you count the number of red dots on me after I do this?” He stuck his hand out the window with his middle finger extended to the darkness. He left it there for a few seconds, then withdrew into the cabin again, glancing at Wolf while he familiarised himself with the vehicle.

“You must be so popular.” Wolf replied sarcastically, withdrawing her gun from its holster. She wanted to know what was inside the truck and there was one way of doing so worming around in her tired mind. Putting the gun on the dashboard, Wolf looked at Cow. “I could have just brought Bear with me. It’s much more pleasant talking to him than to you.”

“Was it your choice? Or was it One’s? And what are you doing?” Cow indicated her gun. “Are you that worried?”

“Yes, I definitely chose you over someone fanatically loyal to me.” She replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm. When he questioned her gun, Wolf rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated grunt. “What? Are you gonna have a panic attack? Still didn’t get used to a gun or do you just want me to shove it up your ass?” Wolf replied, fueling her own fire and pushing the darkness even further back into her mind. She wasn’t at risk of falling asleep.

“Oh, shut it,” he said. “I’ve been on either end of a gun long enough to be perfect with them. Don’t test me. Don’t fucking test me.” He brought the tyres to life, peeling the huge lorry away from its space. As the dark shape moved, the vitality of the night flooded its space, but this was lost to the eyes of the man driving. His tone had changed. His voice was no longer gravelly, but had the pristine edge of flint.

Wolf smirked at his reaction. “Did you forget to take your meds today?” She asked sarcastically, looking out the window as he started driving. “You sound more unhinged than I do.”

“There’s only one drug I take and even then I smoke it. Are you just going to leave that there?” Cow shifted gears, then gestured to her gun again before turning his eye back to the real world. He couldn’t take the track he’d come in on, so he followed the wider road. Corners were the only issue, but he had two ways of dealing with them. The first was to drive well, and the second was to not worry if the body of the truck scraped against something.

“So, you do want me to shove it up your ass?” Wolf cocked an eyebrow. “That’d explain what you do when you’re alone in the armory.” She cast a look on the road before getting lost in the blackness outside. “Keep the truck on the road, will you?” She commented half-heartedly.

“Thank you for reminding me. What about a building? Should I drive into that? It’s a marvel One made me a Beast if I need to be told to stay on the road isn’t it.”

Wolf rolled her eyes and decided to get heavy with Cow. Speaking in a much more serious and calmer tone than when she usually threw insults, Wolf examined Cow for any miniscule reactions. “Why do you think I’m with you?” She asked. “This isn’t something difficult. Hell, it’s something a recruit could do. Even if combat breaks out, this truck can take it.” She lowered her tone. “Why do you think I’m with you, Cow?” She leaned back and crossed her arms on her chest. “You can’t do shit. You’re useless. Training recruits is busy work. Someone needs to do it and might as well glorify it by calling you a Beast.” Awaiting his comeback with clenched teeth, Wolf examined the road ahead when she saw it. Her muscles tensed up. A roadblock. Two police cars. “Take it easy…” She reached for her gun. “Pull over.” She frowned as she stared into the darkness outside.

The next time Cow changed gear during Wolf’s low talking, it was a violent shove of the gearstick. Everything she said ran through two filters in his mind. One of them ensured Cow didn’t care, but the other was more personal. It bit through and tussled with his pride. Not much pride blossomed in Cow, but it did somewhere, in some corner of his being.

Instead of replying though, a shrill laugh exited his snarl. He spoke with a venom, “I don’t care about the opinion of the person who spends all her time grooming One’s hole. So--” His voice was stopped by her words. He snorted, “Pull over where? This fucking thing’s the size of the fucking road.”

He did what she said, drawing the truck to the side as much as he could. He didn’t turn off the engine, but took his hands from the wheel, crossing his arms.

“Then pull over on the fucking road.” Wolf hissed as Cow stopped. The bored-looking officer slowly walked over to Cow’s side and motioned for him to roll down his window. Not wanting to let someone like Cow do the talking, she dropped her gun on the floor of the truck, pushed her door open and got out with her hands in the air. She knew there had to be someone else by the police vehicles and she didn’t want to get shot just for talking. “Officer.” She called out and before the officer could ask Cow anything, he focused on her. “This is an Epsilon Corporation truck.” She said, expecting the cop to understand but that was far from it. Hands on his hips, the cop looked up at Cow expectantly.

As Cow watched the officer blank Wolf, something inside him glowed. He did as instructed by the officer and brought the window down. “Good evening,” he said, his tone open. “What do you need, officer?”

The officer lazily looked over to Cow. “Can you confirm the ownership of the truck? And the purpose and nature of it being driven at this time.”

Wolf almost snarled at being ignored. “I just fucking told you. It’s Epsilon Corp business.”

The officer, with one hand on the grip of his gun, turned to Wolf. “Calm down, ma’am.” He warned her before looking at Cow again.

“I confirm it is both an Epsilon Corporation truck, and, therefore, Epsilon Corporation business. The nature of it is only for the Corporation to know,” he spoke clearly and professionally. “Being held up is not preferable.”

Wolf lowered her arms, ignoring the danger of potentially getting shot. She didn’t have the nerve to keep up the good-girl act anymore. “Listen, we both know who owns the commissioner.” She pointed at the officer. “If you want, I can get him out of his bed and bring him over here to lick my ass.” She began yelling. “Get your underpaid ass back into your fucking car and get out of our way.” She ordered and headed back to the truck, hoping her intimidation went well. Otherwise, shooting their way through might be their only option.

Frowning at the pair, the officer paused but ultimately returned to his car and both vehicles moved off the road.

“Way to scare them off, ma’am. I was going to ram them,” said Cow. He put the truck in gear and pulled it back onto the road. He went slow, not wishing to alarm the cars into a chase. But the more he thought about that option, the further he realised it was an option. Best to put a stop to it before it happened.

Cow drew one of his pistols from its holster with his free hand. With the window still down, it was quick work to point, aim and shoot at the tyres of the cars. Any that came into his eyeline got the treatment, and when he considered that job done, he brought the truck back to speed, raising the window as they moved.

“You are explaining that to One.” She motioned her hand out the window. “I’m not gonna get fucked over discharging a weapon without a cause.” She shrugged. It wouldn’t truly be a problem but the situation ended well and she needed a reason for anger.

“I’ll take credit for that, certainly. Now, are you going to keep talking, or can you just go back to sleep? I promise I won’t drive off the road if you do.”

Wolf shrugged. “Meh.” She looked out the window. “We’re almost here anyway.” She rubbed off an inch in her eye. “Just keep it safe and we’re done with this.”

“You don’t have to cry, Wolf,” Cow said. Since the officer had given her the silent treatment, all all the annoyance he felt towards her had been turned into glee. “We’re almost home. You can cuddle your toys soon.”

Wolf rolled her eyes at Cow. Did he want her to stop talking or does he want to keep up the tennis match they were having? Wolf parted her lips to say something but paused when she saw the lights of the compound ahead. Before they even reached the tall gate, the soldiers opened it and let them pass. They were expected. The base seemed prepared for their arrival. No guards patrolling the grounds. Thin patrols along the fences perimeter. Even the spotlights were turned off. It was a suspicious scene but they were the ones who it was all revolving around.

When they entered the underground garage, Wolf saw just how expected they were. One, Gazelle, a man she didn’t know, and the guards who were normally tasked with guarding One’s office with a heavy duty platform cart. Everything else was empty, save for a car that just arrived.. She recognized the three people getting out of it, no doubt liquored up to their eyebrows.

One looked oddly serious for being in his base. The straight-backed posture with his hands clasped behind his back was normally reserved for official meetings while he was more relaxed at the base, with at least one hand in his pocket. Wolf could also spot Gazelle’s behavior, just as odd. Arms crossed on her chest, head tilted forward, eyes darting across the floor. The only one who was calm was the third man who wore a blue lab coat and thick-rimmed glasses.

When the engine of the truck died, everyone moved to the back. It was time for Wolf to sate her curiosity. She hopped out and headed immediately to One. By the time she got there, the back door was opened and the third man was inside the truck. Wolf awed at the door which as thick enough to belong on a vault. The inside was actually so small because of the thick walls that the man had to crouch to inspect the contents inside. “No tampering.” He said in a strong German accent, looking over something in the darkness. “The sarcophagus is in the same condition as it was when it was sealed.” He said, hopping out of the truck. “I propose we open it.” He looked at One.

“Gazelle?” One looked at the medic by his side. Recovered by now but her eyes still wide, Gazelle motioned at One’s guards.

“Operating room three.” She said. “I put a clearance lock on the door.” She explained, giving a quick nod to One.

Just when One’s guards were about to get around to retrieving this sarcophagus, One looked at Wolf. She could see a frown forming beneath his bandages. He further examined the garage and looked at the group who arrived just before the truck and still didn’t leave the garage. As if that wasn’t enough, another Beast in purple armor was standing by one of the entrances, watching them.

“A base-wide curfew is in effect!” One raised his voice. “Only essential personnel are on duty, everyone else is confined to their rooms! Leave. Now.” He ordered.

Wolf smirked beneath her helmet. It was something she wasn’t meant to see. Perfect. “One sec.” She raised a hand at One and snapped her fingers at Cow. “Oi, fatass. I left my gun in the cab. Get it for me, will ya?” She planned it out perfectly. A reason for her to stick around longer. Even if the moron refused to get her gun, she would just get it herself and, thus, spend even more time in the garage.

“Your gun? Oh. Yeah, you did leave it, didn’t you…” Cow was in the process of opening the door when Wolf asked him to get her gun. He hadn’t felt like moving from the cabin of the truck. Wolf’s absence made him even less likely to move: he had a few minutes to sigh while staring at the gently glowing dials in the cabin. Upon One’s order of a curfew, he turned the engine off and moved to get out.

He retrieved her gun with a bit of contortion and half-climbed, half-dropped from the cabin. He swung Wolf’s gun in his hand as he approached her. “A curfew, did he say? So. That proves he sent Beasts for a reason. Come on,” he threw the gun back to her, “let’s leave the important shit to the clever ones.”

As per One’s request for isolation in the matter, Cow moved away, A curfew was a pity, but if it was what the Director wanted then he had no argument. It meant he wouldn’t be able to jump from driving to hazing the recruits, and that was a shame. He was in the mood for it.

Wolf was satisfied her plan worked. At least she would get a glimpse of what they were carrying. Ultimately, though, she was disappointed. When the soldiers removed the large metal square out of the truck, Wolf couldn’t make heads or tails of the thing. The man referenced it as a sarcophagus and that was pretty much what it looked like. A large, black, simple crate. Judging by how much the soldiers were struggling even while utilizing their armor meant its contents were extremely heavy or the crate was as heavily armored as the truck.

“Thanks.” Wolf said coldly as Cow returned her gun. She smirked at his comment and appreciated a joke at his own expense. “You’re a truck driver and I’m a watchdog. We’re far from clever.” She scoffed and separated from him in the hallway and headed to her room. “Gazelle…” She murmured, slowly coming to a halt. She needed the sleeping pills. There was no way she would enter that small, dark room without the pills. Most of the medical team was likely in their barracks and wouldn’t go against One’s orders just like that. Gazelle was busy as well. There was someone, though… Someone who might help her. Break the orders. In a matter of minutes, Wolf was in the Beast dormitory and banging on Doe’s door.

Crow and Lion also headed down the halls to their rooms after hearing One’s order. They had enough alcohol in them that they knew there was nothing left to do but drop on a bed and let their tired minds rest.

Moth, however, had other plans. With the curfew in effect, only a skeleton crew patrolling the outside, and almost everyone in the bunker following One to the operating room… He could carry out some snooping. It was a rare opportunity to visit One’s office and have free reign of the place without anyone watching over him.

“Excuse me, Moth? I know we don’t have long out but do you have a moment?” Without his armour, Armadillo moved much more fluid. His height was not affected by his lack of armour either, and he was still well into the 6’ range. He adjusted his glasses and gave Moth an apologetic smile. The expression of apology was a contrast to his heavy jawline.

Armadillo had said his goodnights to Crow and Lion, and thanked them for inviting him out. He’d given an exaggerated amount of grateful phrases to them on their way back. Armadillo didn’t want to disobey the Director’s orders, but nor did he want to miss his opportunity talking with Moth.

While his plans ended before they even started, Moth couldn’t have complained at someone coming to him and not the other way around. “Of course.” Moth said in a clearly excited tone but quickly hushed himself down. “How can I help?” He smiled, looking around to make sure they were alone.

“You… I don’t want to… imply I was spying, but I saw you with Rat earlier. I just wondered what you were discussing. And I’d like to be told what it was. If he is trying to manipulate people, I will go to the Director with it.”

Moth nodded along, trying to think of a way to milk the situation for his own benefit but there was little he could do. It was a great opportunity to throw Rat beneath a truck but that wasn’t necessary. Rat wasn’t the kind of a psychopath private military companies were packed full of. Even if he betrayed Moth and went talking to One, there was little that couldn’t be denied or spun to look better. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’d like to think I’m not that easy to manipulate.” Moth chuckled. “We just talked about my idea for a mission and he was curious about what I knew about the Program. I may have told him I know too much.” He let out an awkward laugh, hoping that might be enough of a hook to interest Armadillo. “He doesn’t seem like someone who’d blackmail me for things that aren’t my fault.” Moth shrugged. A sprinkling of innocence on top of a good lie. A seed of sympathy.

Armadillo was gently nodding along as Moth spoke, his eyebrows creased in concern. That is, until Moth came to the last sentence. Then, his expression altered. “That’s… exactly what he would do. There’s a reason he doesn’t work in assault, and works in espionage. Don’t assume you’re not easy to manipulate, that isn’t… he finds a way. Always. Always... if there’s something you’ve already told him he won’t forget it, so go to the Director as soon as you can to head him off. There’s nothing I can do to help you other than… warn you. I can’t cope around him. If you want to talk about it, I’ll be outside training when I’m not on schedule. But I ought to get back to my quarters.”

Moth nodded. What a satisfying amount of information. Perhaps, if the feelings were reversed, he could use Rat for his own gain. Armadillo showed he was too caring to be involved in his plans but… So is Gazelle and, yet, she has a place in them. Place he has yet to put her in but someone that close to One can’t be written off just like that. Perhaps, then, Armadillo shouldn’t be written off yet. “Sure.” Moth replied, faking some concern. “Yeah, I’ll take you up for that. I’ll think about what I can do but I can definitely use someone to listen.” Moth smiled. “Not many people around here who would just listen. Thank you.” Moth nodded and let Armadillo head to his quarters. There was planning to do.

“Come on in, I’m free.”

Doe’s light voice confirmed her company was vacant. She lifted her helmet and stacked some papers beneath it, papers she had been working on for a few hours. They were the usual substance and component requests put in by the medical team, and she was looking over and approving them before they went through. It was simple but claustrophobic work. A visitor would be a welcome distraction. As the door opened she stood and opened a small window. Just to get the air flowing. She let her platinum hair down as she turned to see her visitor.

“Hello. What can I do for you? I’m afraid my reach is confined to this room only, because of the curfew. So as long as it’s a problem I can deal with in here, you’re in luck.”

“I need pills.” Wolf decided to get straight to the point. She was painfully tired again and didn’t want to waste time with small talk. “Sleeping pills, Doe.” She quickly added, marching deeper into her room. Normally, she might take note of her surroundings and throw a short comment but there was no time for it. “I wanted to ask Gazelle for them when I got back but I didn’t know about the curfew.” Wolf explained, shaking her head. She couldn’t lock her normally razor-sharp eyes onto the medic in front of her. Any image in front of her eyes unfocused in a matter of seconds. “I know there’s a curfew…” Wolf raised a hand. “I don’t really care.”

Doe turned to the window and took a lungful of the air. Then she went back to the computer. “Mm… you’ve been relying on these for a while now. However, as there is no change in your record or schedule with using them, I’ll maintain that. Give me a few moments to record it on your file then I’ll get them for you.” She typed, her fingers heavy on the keys. “If Gazelle has authorised them for you, I will follow her lead. Although naturally I’ll suggest to you now insomnia therapy, or CBT, to treat this issue more permanently. For now though,” Doe stood, went to the cabinet and retrieved the prescribed pills after unlocking it, “here you go. Follow the instructions inside, and don’t overdose or I’ll have to break my own curfew to come and revive you.”

“Gazelle suggested therapies…” Wolf murmured, her eyes locking on the bottle of pills. Taking off her helmet, her short, black hair stuck close to her head, Wolf continued. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her.” Wolf’s tone turned slightly sharper as she snatched the pills from Doe’s hand. “Fuck off.” She growled. Anyone on the medical team rarely ended being the focus of her rage but she was willing to even shine that light on the Beasts medics. “I don’t have a fucking problem.” She spoke slowly, working the bottle of pills open. “I just need something to help me sleep. It’s either that or me falling asleep with a gun in my hands on the field.” Knowing the instructions well by now, Wolf stared insistently at the medic as she took one pill more than she was meant to and swallowed them dry. Breathing a sigh of relief, Wolf rubbed cold beads of sweat her forehead. “Thanks, Doe.” Locking the helmet back on, Wolf pointed a finger at the doctor. “Doctor-patient confidentiality, Doe. Keep your mouth shut.” She warned.

Doe smiled. “Just doing my job in suggesting them. A job you don’t have to tell me how to do. I know how the confidentiality works. Off to bed with you now, before you collapse in my room. Sleep well.” Doe ushered her gently, never dropping that smile.

With a tired chuckle, Wolf allowed herself to be lead out of the room. “Thanks.” She whispered again before heading to her room. Fuck. Wolf thought. The medical team is something else… If there was anyone in the Program who earned her respect, it was the people with red crosses on their uniforms.

 

[0stinato]

“Why are we always the ones who wait for One?” Wolf looked up at the towering Beast behind her back. Of course, she didn’t expect Bear to answer her but there was something about talking to him. He never complained about her talking to much, after all. “I mean, it would even look cool if he stood there all like I was expecting you and shit.” She said in a mockingly deep voice. Even though she waited with the rest of the Beasts for less than ten minutes, she already didn’t like wait.

“Are you just offended that you don’t know what’s going on as well?” Lion asked playfully, motioning towards the suit of armor in the center of the armory. The armory was closed for the better part of the previous day and opened only when everyone got invited in the morning. The suit of armor waiting for them was, as Wolf assumed, the same thing that arrived in the massive truck.

The suit of armor looked futuristic compared to the regular Beast armor. There were no sharp edges on the dark suit as if it was designed by a completely different mind. That was something Panda painfully made note of. She was a major part of the design team for all previous suits but was snubbed when it came to ‘XA-01’. Even though she tried to find some glaring flaw in the armor, there was nothing she could spot. The blueprints would have to tell a different tale if she had access to them but that was, again, something she wasn’t allowed to see.

As she was one of the first to arrive, Panda made sure to look for one weakness that previous suits had to have and that she could exploit. Slits between armor platings which weren’t enough for a bullet but just wide enough for a custom-made dagger. A weakness the XA-01 suit didn’t have.

“If you’d like my boys to take you into the forest and bury you, Lion, you can just say so.” Wolf turned to the naturally calm Beast who quickly raised his hands in defense.

“It was a joke.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “No need to throw around death threats.”

“Jesus, at least grow a pair and talk back to me. Where the fuck is your aggression?” Wolf took a step forward but was stopped by Gazelle placing a hand on her chest.

“Wolf…” Gazelle quietly reprimanded her.

“Oh, what?” Wolf shook her head. “Did I hurt his feeling? Come on, I’m just fucking around. This is boring.” She turned away and returned her attention to the suit.

Seeing the golden-armored Beast is still tense, Moth gave a friendly tap on Lion’s back. “Don’t worry about her.” Moth smiled behind his helmet and lowered his tone. “Besides, she’s just bark and no bite.” He joked, hoping to raise his spirits.

“Truuue!” shouted Cow from across the room.

“Don’t antagonise her, you deranged idiot.” This was Rat, who was stationed in the corner behind Cow. He had broken his stare to the opposite side of the room to glare at Cow. Before that, his eye had switched from Moth to Bear to Wolf to Armadillo and back again. “No one could dig a grave big enough for you. Don’t give her a reason to kill you.”

All Cow did in response was laugh. “Whatever you say. It’s still true.”

“At least someone knows what’s good for them.” Wolf growled, glancing at Rat before turning at Cow. “One day I’ll take you to the slaughterhouse like that cattle that you are.” She threatened with a pointed finger.

Cow leaned away from Wolf, his head tilting to the side under the onslaught of her finger. He batted her finger away with the back of his hand and said nothing.

Mantis stretched as she appeared on the doorway in her standard, light, green armor. "What's going on then?" She cracked her neck and approached the remainder of the group. Usually late, Mantis took the low priority meeting as an opportunity to oversleep. She was, however, as respectful to One as always and arrived a minute before the meeting was actually scheduled to begin.

Most people mumbled some guesses but before anyone could say something, Panda walked up to her friend. "No one knows." She raised her voice, getting a growing amount of attention from the gathered Beasts. "No one except the highest clearance levels." Panda stared at Wolf. "Isn't it odd that One's pet is throwing this smoke screen instead of pretending she knows everything?" Panda asked no one in particular. "That's because Wolf knows exactly what this is about." She motioned her hand at the red-armored Beast who was just shaking her head. "And she's not meant to talk about it. Must be eating away at her." She finished mockingly.

Wolf scoffed. "Don't pretend you're some sort of a detective, Panda." She placed a hand on her hip. "All I know is the name of a project. The name I already heard mentioned here so you can guess it by throwing a dart at a wall." Wolf's disdain dripped from her voice. "For once, I'm as clueless as the rest of you morons. It's just that I know it doesn't look flattering to prance around, asking questions I shouldn't be asking." Rolling her shoulders, she waved off the crowd. "Fuck off, alright? You're not gonna hear anything from me."

Rat saw Cow’s position shift. It was clear the Beast had opinions on Wolf, which was new to Rat. He was physically gearing up to jump into the discourse between Panda and Wolf. Rat believed he could even see Cow take a breath. But before Cow could say anything, Rat’s hand was on his arm. It drew the larger Beast’s attention, drew it away from the other discussion. The skull-style visor glinted the armoury lights at Rat in all its scratches and miniscule imperfections.

“I don’t care about any of your opinions,” Rat spoke fast, but low to Cow. “But - listen to me - it’s pointless to start a battle you get nothing out of if you win. So don’t bother.”

“You mean Wolf? You think I care.”

“You do care, just like Panda cares,” Rat said. His own visor didn’t reflect any light. It swallowed light up into its hazy, one-way blackness. “Or you’d not have spoken in the first place.” He didn’t have to read intricacies to know Cow understood his views. He appeared to consider it for a moment, before giving up and shrugging.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter either way. But… I guess it is pointless to argue… for now at least.”

Rat only nodded and stepped back against the wall. It wasn’t a breakthrough, but it was something. This was the issue with Cow. And everyone like him. People like Wolf, like Armadillo, like Moth: set in their ways, in their own heads. But Cow in particular… Rat remembered smoking with Cow outside one of the base buildings, visors off. Rat remembered his stomach’s sudden sickening after he looked into those eyes. Rat remembered deciding to quit smoking after that day. Cow was so eager to war, and he didn’t care who it was with. And he didn’t even know it himself.

Cow turned back to the black armour for a moment, after giving his shoulders a stretch. His eyeline was lost to Rat, but it became inconsequential: the smaller Beast returned to his vigilance. Moth… Wolf… Bear… Armadillo… Moth. Cow, however looked at Mantis. He moved past a few other Beasts quietly, and came to Mantis’ side.

“While we’re waiting, I thought I’d ask you something. If you’re still up for it, I’d like your assistance with the recruits. And I have something that might sweeten the deal, from… my mission last night with… little miss lupine. If you can call it a mission…” Cow gave a sharp tut before letting out a tired breath. “If you don’t care, no loss to me. Let me know.”

Mantis made gunfingers at Cow and winked. “Definitely!” She exclaimed. “I’d love to help around the recruits.” She smiled and shrugged. “One limited my missions lately to only the crucial ones so I’m just looking for something to do.”

“Can’t leave you together for ten minutes, can I?” One walked into the room with hands in his pockets and two guards behind him. His office must have been left unattended again. Another great opportunity for Moth to search for things he might have missed the previous time but he couldn’t just slip out.

Everyone moved out of the way, letting One reach the suit of armor and stand by it. “I have a flight to catch…” One gave Crow a nod who was standing silently by the doorway. “So I’ll keep this brief.” Motioning his hand briefly at the armor, he continued. “This is a prototype. XA-01 suit of combat armor. Universal, without a need for drastic modifications to suit your specializations. In the following year, this suit will be tested to ensure it matches all our requirements and then rolled out for you to use on the field.”

Panda smirked. Give them the latest tech and put the previous on the market. The troopers would be handed down the Beast class armor tech while the world would get to use the trooper armor. Beasts, again, would be on top of the food chain. Yet another edge on the world.

“Ooo, who is gonna test it?” Mantis raised her hand excitedly. “Can I do it? Come on, boss!” She waved her hand, her boredom obvious.

“Special agent Shark.” One said matter-of-factly, letting the entire room fall into silence.

“What?” Was the only word that came from the crowd. Wolf pushed her way forward, Bear following close behind. “Special agent Shark?” She frowned, balling her fists. “What the fuck is a special agent?”

One watched her for a few moments, sharing the crowd’s silence, allowing Wolf to feel uncomfortable at her reaction. “Recruiting Shark into the Project showed the need for another level in the ranks. Such a high difference in skill needs to be recognized.”

Wolf opened her mouth slightly, trying to formulate a sentence and censoring what she knew she couldn’t yell at One. She passed a tongue over her teeth and raised her tone. “Difference in skill?” She repeated. “Compared to who?”

“Everyone.” One replied casually again, one hand in pocket, another hanging freely by his side.

“Everyone.” Wolf repeated, face twisted into a grimace. “What does that mean?”

“What’s her speciality?” Panda joined in, taking a few steps closer as well. One peaked her curiosity as well.

“Versatile.” One smirked. “She is better than any of you in your fields.” He paused. “Better than all of you.”

“That’s bullshit.” Wolf decided to give up on trying to control herself and spoke her mind. “I’d like to fucking see that.”

One nodded slowly and turned his head to the suit of armor. A second later, the helmet turned to face Wolf. The movement was smooth, slow, and precise.

“F-fuck…” Mantis muttered as the crowd started whispering amongst each other. “Jesus…” Mantis placed a hand on her chest and laughed. “Holy fuck, that scared the shit out of me.” She skipped over to the person in armor and offered a hand. “That was fucking cool!” She grinned. “Agent Mantis.” She introduced herself. “But everyone who isn’t a dick calls me Manny. We should spar sometimes.” She offered cheerfully, planting her hands on her hips when she saw that Shark wasn’t interested in a handshake.

“Good idea.” One nodded and Shark finally turned to face Mantis. “If anyone wants to test my claim, feel free to challenge special agent Shark. She will accept.”

One stepped forward and looked at Shark. “Your weapons are waiting for you. Get equipped and you’re dismissed.” He ordered and turned to the group again, waiting to see if anyone else had complaints.

Upon watching the interaction of One with the other Beasts, Cow began to giggle. It was an ugly, unhinged sound that not very often emanated from his throat. Standing near to Mantis, she was the only one who might have heard it, but she left Cow his space to giggle while she inspected the armour. Hearing what One had to say wasn’t news to him. Special Agent Shark was better than him? Most likely. Better than Wolf? With the right training. Better than Mantis, Crow, Armadillo, Panda, Lion, Rat, whoever? With the right training, yes, anyone could be. His body was shaking without rhythm as he giggled, as he looked at Wolf. He wanted to walk up to her and ask her what it felt like to realise she was replaceable. But he decided to just let her stew.

Unless they had their eye on him, the only person who reacted to Rat moving around the edge of the room was Armadillo, who stepped away from the little cluster of Beasts he had been behind. Rat was silent, moving more like a panther than his namesake, but Armadillo was conscious of him at all times. He moved away, giving Rat the airspace to stand, and the solitude to speak to Moth without being overheard.

“I know the theory of breaking through the Program’s security walls and clearance levels in their database,” Rat said, “but you have practice. What level would this one be at?” He was referring to Shark, to the agent who could do everything.

Every Beast in the Program had skill built upon a foundation of talent. But to be talented and skilled in all areas, to overtake every Beast? Inconceivable. Improbable. Exaggerated. Rat would have no way of testing Shark himself.

But he could observe.

He didn’t believe what One said. He didn’t believe a syllable of it.


Seeing no one asked any more questions, One left the room without another word and was followed by Crow while Gazelle left the room almost as quickly when everyone was busy discussing what they had seen.

Shark herself headed to the armory lockers to retrieve her weapons. Lion was one of the people who were in her way and he quickly moved, almost tripping over Koala who was sitting on the floor and sleeping against the wall. “Oh, poor thing…” He whispered, crouching down by the Beast.

The dappled armour of Doe appeared beside Lion. “Hm, I would have thought Gazelle would have taken the helm here, but I suppose she’s busy,” she said to Lion. “Can you help me, if you help her stand up I’ll support her and take her somewhere more comfortable. It’s a wonder the Director wanted her here… she didn’t hear half of him, I don’t think. And besides,” her tone took on a more cheeky angle. “If there’s one thing Koala is better at than our new colleague, it’s falling asleep sporadically. C’mon then, let’s get her up.”

Lion chuckled. “One’s probably too busy to think about Beasts on an individual level.” He defended the Director. “But you’re hit the nail on the head there.” Lion smiled, helping Doe pick Koala up. “Perhaps our new colleague can’t be compared to the experimental Beasts.” He shrugged. The only true worry he had was that the Project would have another Wolf… Or, God forbid, another Skunk. “What do you think of her?” Lion motioned his head at Shark who, now with her weapons, headed back out the door.


“I got the feeling from our last interaction that you wanted nothing more to do with me.” Moth crossed his arms on his chest. “Why would I share anything with you? You said yourself that I must be an idiot if I tell you anything while I don’t trust you.” He shrugged. While he pretended his attention was fully on Rat, Moth was keeping an eye on the door. He didn’t want to let Panda disappear. Something useful might come yet out of Rat but he had to have the ability to cast him aside if Panda left the room.

“You are an idiot that you told me so much,” Rat said, his voice flat. He stood quite still, and casual, facing Moth head-on. “And that’s exactly your problem at the moment. I know too much. So that leaves you in an uncomfortable situation. Either you get me in again, or you let me… forget. Only then will I stop being a problem for you. You’ve told me far too much. You don’t hold any of the cards anymore.”


“Not the talkative type.” Mantis nodded. “That’s cool, no worries.” She said cheerfully and turned to Cow. “How long do you think I should wait before I challenge her?” She asked Cow in a hushed tone but Panda appeared by her side and shared her opinion.

“I don’t think you should.” Panda grumbled. “While I’d never openly agree with her… Wolf is right.” She looked over her shoulder at the new Beast taking her weapons. Shotgun - also a new model - and a tactical tomahawk. She seemed to be weighing them in her hands. “There is some bullshit in this.” She whispered.

“Yeah, no, Panda’s right, it’s futile. Futile!” Cow gave an amused sigh. “God… yeah, don’t bother Mantis. Save your energy.” He watched the Special Agent for a moment and his tone changed. “She isn’t messing up the organisation system is she? She better not be… She seems to know exactly what she wants…” He was commenting on her immediate selection of weapons. Everything else had failed to pique his interest: One telling them all she was better than them, Wolf’s reaction, Mantis’ suggestion of a fight… but as soon as she was involved in the inventory system Cow was scrutinising her. “I’d leave but I don’t want the system fucked up…” he muttered.

Panda frowned at Cow’s reaction but elected to ignore it and turn to Mantis. “If we entertain the idea that she is that skilled… Any outcome from a challenge would likely be an overkill.”

Mantis let out a frustrated sigh and waved off her worries. “Jesus, not everyone is a psycho. Sure, I mean, this bunker has the highest concentration of maniacs than anywhere on the world but stiiiill…” Mantis turned to watch Shark leave and a smile crept up on her face. She could be fun.


With Koala’s weight on her shoulders, Doe took a moment to steady herself while Shark walked out. She allowed the Beast her space before following. “Not much to think,” she said. “Honestly, it’s too early to tell. It’s not useful to make a premature judgement. When she comes in with her first injury I’ll judge her. Thank you for this.”

Lion shook off her thanks. “No worries, Doe.” He smiled. “If you need anything at all, feel free to ask. We all benefit from helping each other, don’t we? One way or the other.” He smiled and watched the new Beast turn the hallway in front of them. How would she change things for them…

“So…” Lion thought about how to fill the silence. “How’s work? You guys must be under a lot of stress, huh?”

“I won’t go as far to say this job’s all about teamwork but when it happens it really helps. I’m glad there are a few souls who realise that. As for being busy… no more than usual, which is to say, constantly. But if Gazelle is still occupied elsewhere, I’ll have a little more weight put on me and my team. But that’s the way it is.” Doe shifted Koala’s weight gently, not wishing to wake the sleeping Beast. “Perhaps I’ll contact you if I need a coffee on-shift, and you can run and get it for me,” she said, that cheeky tone returning. “Focus on your own work, though. To be honest, having a chat like this is as good a pick-me-up as anything. I’ll get Koala off somewhere, I won’t keep you. Thanks, again, for the help.”

Lion nodded, letting Doe take the weight of the sleeping Beast. The armor was definitely amazing. It was easily supporting the weight of another person in full combat armor and neither of them had to even think about it, let alone give the computer running the armor a word. “Gladly, Doe.” Lion gave the medic a short bow before placing his hands on his hips, taking a pose resembling that of a hero. “It was nice chatting to you. Good luck with Koala.” He smiled and turned away. Another tiny good deed in the day.


After he was sure the new Beast didn’t do anything to harm his precious organisation, Cow stretched the event out of his mind. He felt like he’d been standing in one place for too long, and his armour was getting heavy. He had to do something.

“Speaking of psychos, let’s go and train the recruits. Make them maniacs,” he offered to Mantis, before looking at Panda. “Do you want to come and watch? I know the answer is going to be no, but I’m British so I have to politely offer first.”

Mantis grinned and gave Cow a playful roar before tapping him on the shoulder and walked around him with so much energy in every step that she was hopping more than walking. “Yeah, let’s do this!” She clapped her hands.

“Yes, you are notorious for your politeness.” Panda replied calmly, sarcasm hidden deep in her words. “Thank you but I have some shipping manifests to look over.” She looked over her shoulder. Wolf and her goliath friend had already left the room. No reason to stick around and try to avoid her anymore. She wasn’t even lying to the pair in front of her. Panda knew neither of them would care about her work enough to ask if she was even meant to be looking at those.

Standing there like an iceberg staring at a tiny rowing boat, Cow felt exhausted watching Mantis so he looked at Panda instead, but only to grunt a goodbye.

“No one should be this enthusiastic about going to the recruits… but sure. C’mon. We’ll go scare ‘em. I’ll tell you about Wolf on the way. The entire thing seems trivial after Shark but, hm, you’ll enjoy it. Essentially, a regular policeman, just a regular fucking guy, he told Wolf to shut up, and she did. For a little while. Ma’am, can you be quiet, and zip, she didn’t speak. A regular fucking policeman shut her up. Not even One can do that. Perhaps One should hire the policeman instead of Wolf. And yeah, he called her ma’am. Ma’am, ma’am,” Cow put on an increasingly irritating American accent as he repeated the word, leaving the room after Panda.

Mantis didn’t quite walk alongside Cow as much as she hopped around him while he told his story. The girl has massive batteries in her and never seemed to run out of energy even when returning after a few days in the field or after a long night at the bar. Mantis scoffed when Cow finished his tale. “Fuck me.” She laughed. “I guess the bitch can’t help but bend over for authority.” That story was another tiny burst of energy for her. At least someone put the red maniac into her place.


“And what do you want to know, hm?” Moth asked, rolling his eyes. He didn’t intend to let Rat twist his hand but it was years of progress at stake. “You find out anything that I know and you committed as much of a crime against One as I had. What has you so curious that you’d risk being an idiot?”

“All I’ve asked is your opinion on the security around her data. I want your opinion because something isn’t right. But I haven’t done anything. And the difference between me and idiots is, I wouldn’t tell someone whether I had,” Rat paused. Then a smile appeared on his thin lips. “And Moth, my morality isn’t so high that I’d not do something I scolded you for. Anyone who lives their life on their morality… isn’t worth my time.”

Seeing how Panda was inching towards the doorway, Moth decided to end the conversation and give in to the annoying Beast’s demands. “Come to the gym tonight. 11:30.” He spoke quietly. “We’ll talk then, alright? I’m not that amazing that I know everything immediately. At least you should know that gathering intelligence takes time.” He brushed him off and made a move to walk past Rat and head after Panda.

Rat let his breath out through his teeth, causing a hissing sound, and didn’t respond to Moth. But it didn’t matter: the purple-suited Beast was already leaving. Presumably rather exasperated. Another dark shape moved past Rat, and he spun to identify, and it was Armadillo. The big Beast had chosen to make a run for it, and by the direction he turned, Rat knew it was pointless to follow. Armadillo would be outside in an instant. Moving to the doorway, Rat peeked out. Beasts were proceeding down it. There was Moth, overtaken by Armadillo. Then Armadillo tried to move past a couple more Beasts, but collided with Mantis, to which he immediately put his hands up. Probably apologising. Then he was off again.

He looked behind him, and flinched away when he saw Rat.

“Pathetic, Nik. The Director can do so much better. It’s a joke. Special Agent. Have you heard anything so bizarre, Nik, Special Agent. Sounds like a playground game…” He didn’t speak any further syllables to himself, and skulked away from the retreating backs of the other Beasts. He had an appointment with Moth, and he had to be prepared: the Beast wasn’t as idiotic as Rat had assumed when they had fought… so that meant Moth had played with him then. It was something Rat had considered was happening, but had no evidence to back up the thought: yet here he was, sure that Moth was playing his game with a certain amount of risk that Rat had misconstrued as idiocy. It wasn’t idiocy - it was calculation.


Panda made sure she was among the last to leave. She wasn't alone for long, however, as Moth caught up to her. “And what do you want?” Panda asked, not slowing down for the nosy man.

“Just wanted to commend you. You executed that pretty well.” Moth said, his tone much more sly than the usual disguise he put on for everyone else. Panda felt that reveal like a blow to the chest the first time she heard it. Since then, Panda kept her distance. The idea that he was that sharp yet pretending to be as dull as a useless trooper... It didn't sit well with her.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Panda asked, stopping to look at the purple armored Beast, even taking a step so she would be right up against him.

“You shined the spotlight at Wolf. No one is going to look at the person working the spotlight.” Clasping his hands behind his back and scanning their surroundings, Moth asked his question without a shred of fear from Panda’s aggressive stance. “What do you know that no one else does?”

Panda rolled her eyes. He was way sharper than what she would like. But she was using that sharpness for her own gains even though she knew that playing with a blade would eventually get her cut. “Since I work on the weapons trade, I spotted one of our regular transport ships pulled off its route.” She began, also checking for anyone listening and lowering her tone. “Because One doesn't run everything by me, it wasn't odd. What was odd is the clearance level lock on it. The only ship I couldn't draw route data on.” Letting her voice fall to such a whisper that Moth had to lean in to hear, Panda continued. “I know the name of the ship and the amount of fuel it was carrying. I can draw potential routes.”

With a swift move, Panda slammed Moth against the wall, holding one hand on his chest plate and the other on his throat. Moth didn't have much of a reaction and simply allowed her to do what she wanted. “And now you're pointing the spotlight at me.” Panda hissed. “What do you know that I don't?”

Moth chuckled quietly and swatted Panda's hand off his chest but the one on his throat was still there, holding tight. “I know what Wolf knows. The name.” He paused. “Project Ambrosia.”

Panda let go of Moth, taking a step back. "Fuck." She took a couple more steps back until she was against the other wall of the hallway.

“You know something about that project?” Moth closed the gap, examining her body language and speaking quickly. “Tell me. It might help me with the Hunter thing.” His tone softened.

“Shut up.” Panda commanded, looking around yet again. “I'm not discussing... That project here. It's treated as top secret. I don't want someone overhearing.”


If Cow was in the habit of spattering his inner monologue with florid language, he might have compared his and Mantis’ progress through the base with some complimentary waltz on her behalf. Her movement, bizarre so it was, took her on a satellite's path around his figure, and they moved as a unit. He marched in his assertive way not watching for her, but she never crashed into him. But he wasn’t in that habit, so he didn’t compare their walking with such a dance. He didn’t even think of it, and stormed onwards, his mind on the recruits and his eyes on the destination.

What would he do to them first? He had Mantis with him, and that meant solidarity. A perfect time to turn up the heat. Endurance tests were one step away from hazing no matter the trial: whether it was stamina tests, or pain tolerance, most endurance trials were cousins of his hazing techniques.

“You have an eye for detail don’t you, Mantis?” he queried, not bothering to follow her movement with his eyes.

“That depends, now doesn’t it?” Mantis said proudly. “If it’s the eye color on some hot piece of ass, then yep. Otherwise, I let others do the seeing for me.” She shrugged lightheartedly. “I’m a fighter, Cow.” She started, shadowboxing around him. “I’m fast and have fucking awesome reactions.”

“Oh yeah?” said Cow. “Then what’s my eye colour?”

“They’re gray, sexy…” Mantis said in a seductive tone, taking off her helmet to give Cow a wink before quickly returning it with a laugh.

“Are you saying the colour is sexy, or I am sexy? Either way, I’m 150 a night, or you buy me pizza.”

“Does… The pizza have to cost 150 too?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Because if it doesn’t, one option definitely tips the scale.”

“No, but you have to cover the delivery and tip,” Cow said. “And good luck getting it delivered all the way out here.”

“Hey, as long as you’re delivering something too, I don’t mind covering it. Wink.” She grinned beneath the helmet, enjoying the exchange.

He leaned a little closer but didn’t slow his pace. “Bucketloads,” he said, “if you treat me right.”

“Hah!” Mantis laughed. “Alright, alright, I’m folding.” She carried on chuckling as they continued on their way.

“You’re missing out,” Cow said, shrugging again. “I’ve been told, reliably, that I’m… what did he say... tight, I think. Oh well. The other thing I’m tight on is rules. So when we see the recruits, you won’t undermine me, if you can, please. See them like dogs - if you give them different orders they don’t learn. They just get confused and piss on the carpet. Then you gotta take ‘em out back and shoot ‘em, poor sods,” he muttered the last sentence with so much honesty and feeling it was almost possible to see him doing just that. “I’ve got in mind stamina tests. With a twist, of course, I’ll tell you what that is later.”


Gazelle was aching for a long, hot shower. Something to let her clear her mind. She might even go for that think she was repeatedly offered by the medical recruits. Just something to get that whole Shark business out of her mind. Being an active part of such a major secret was as stressful as being shot at in the field. Passing her fingers through her blonde hair and making sure she was digging her fingers into her scalm to cause some sensation other than general panic, Gazelle spotted Doe with Koala.
“Fell asleep in public again?” Gazelle smiled nervously. It was a shame Koala was taking such powerful drugs but she applied for the experimental Beast project willingly. Enthusiastically even after being told all the side-effects. “How about you take her into my office?” She offered, hoping the other Beast medic will join her. She wanted someone as stressed as she was to keep her company. Someone who understood.

“I’d be more concerned,” Doe was forced to pause to change trajectory as she wordlessly accepted Gazelle’s suggestion, “if the other Beasts actively laughed at her, or such, while she was asleep. As it is, I don’t see her falling asleep in public as a major problem. It’s to be expected… unless she hits her head or falls badly. If only you’d turned up sooner, I’d have had Lion drag her into your office instead of me,” Doe said this gruffly, but it was only a playful mimic of annoyance. Despite what some said about the medic, she did have a sense of humour. It was just badly-timed.

Gazelle smiled at the only other Beast who truly experienced running into a battlefield to save a life. “It might be unexpected but most of our colleagues have plenty sympathy for each other.” Gazelle shrugged, letting Doe in. “Some may have strained relations but I don’t think they’d ever take it too far.” She closed the door behind Doe and helped her pick up Koala and put her up on a sturdy hospital bed in the corner. The medical equipment in the base was usually mixed with tools which looked like they belonged in a mechanic garage. The armor sometimes had to be disassembled and the beds had to take their weight. “Do you mind if I…” She trailed off, opening one cupboard and retrieving a crumpled pack of cigarettes, showing it to Doe. “I stopped twenty years ago but ever since I started working here…” She shook her head. “I need to take one every now and then.” Retrieving one from the packing without waiting for Doe’s confirmation that she can actually light it. “I mean one pack lasts me over two months.” She felt a strong need to justify herself in spite of being certain that Doe would understand the stress of the work. Perhaps she was justifying it more to herself than to Doe. “Do you smoke?” She quickly asked, offering the pack to Doe and holding one cigarette in her other hand between two slender fingers.

“I don’t, no. I never even tried it. And you know, they don’t destress you in the long run. They might take away the stress for now, but it comes back hard after the relief has gone. Did you know that? I did a few years of psychology, we studied addiction on one of the Stress courses.” Doe stopped talking, becoming aware of her station: Gazelle was her superior, a superior who wouldn’t need this stuff explaining to her. “If you did want to give up, there is decent support here for that sort of thing. I know Rat is trying to give up, not that he is using the support in place here… anyway, it’s not my thing, that’s all. If you like we could go outside for you to smoke there.”

When Doe saw Gazelle take a draw on the cigarette, she felt her expectations for the medic get sucked in too. Whether they came out the same way was anyone’s guess: even Doe wasn’t sure about the medic’s behaviour. It was one thing for a Beast to smoke; their activity and training could perhaps be impaired by the habit, but it wasn’t hypocritical. Somehow, the hypocrisy was worse…

“Oh, you might have noticed in the system already, but I’ll mention it to you in case you haven’t, I prescribed Wolf more sleeping pills after she came back from her last mission. I really want her to take therapy too, but she’s resistant. What’s your opinion on it?”

Gazelle forced a smile on her face as she listened to what she already knew. Looking down, she put the cigarette away as Doe changed the subject to Wolf. Perhaps that’s what she needed. Someone to remind her what she knew. Someone to tell her that wasn’t a solution. As unlikely as it was, that road only lead to being like Wolf. Becoming more and more dependent on something which masked what she was going through instead of actually helping her.

Gazelle looked away as she let out a short and quiet sigh. Gazelle knew the logic behind it all but it didn’t matter. Things just got too stressful and being someone One trusts didn’t make it any easier. She told herself everything Doe told her but it was never enough. Putting the pack of cigarettes away, Gazelle gave a quick smile to Doe. “Yeah, I was expecting her to come and ask me one of these days. She eats them like candy.” Gazelle shook her head. One made sure all medication in the base were of the highest quality but it still wasn’t healthy to consume sleeping pills at the rate she was taking them.

“I tried encouraging her to take therapy and One even stood on my side… Until Wolf threatened to quit. Now we just feed her the pills.” Gazelle crossed her arms on her chest. “I don’t approve but there’s little I can do. I just hope being One’s terror squad leader won’t get too much.” She was interrupted by a knock on her office door but Gazelle didn’t really react to it. “The horrors of war can consume a person.” She dropped her tone slightly while looking at Doe and picked it up as she looked at the door. “Come in.”

“Well… given the Beast who we were introduced to is apparently superior to Wolf, perhaps that’s the shove she needs. A little bit of pressure.” Doe stopped as the tattoo of noise cut through the air. When she saw who came in, she tilted her head and smiled. “Speak of the devil, and here she is.”

Even faced with the most repugnant of intimidating scowls - and she had been - Doe had a seemingly bottomless confidence of her position. Not always delivered as kindly as it was when she smiled at the new Beast, Doe was never uncertain of where she stood in the Program: she was, like Gazelle and the other medics, in the most vital vein that ran through combat. Take the other Beasts, any of them. There was always another that could step up and cover their shift, job or place on the battlefield if necessary. As long as there was a medic for that Beast to fall back on, they had their place secured.

And so it was with this Beast: Doe had heard the Director speak. She didn’t doubt this Beast had medical training, didn’t doubt it at all. But she wasn’t a rival. There would never be the tension of the shooting range in the operating theatre. You didn’t have the same furious battle for dominance. There was no imaginary scoreboard: there were no rivals in saving lives.

Shark opened the door and entered. Her movement as she closed the door were fluid yet inhuman. She made no sound as she moved. Gazelle would even swear that the click of the lock as she closed it was somehow absent. Gazelle, however, was completely aware she was biased. Knowing as much as she knew about the soldier, it was no surprise to her how she felt. The feeling of quiet unease when Shark looked at her. The weight on her chest when she thought about the woman. The chill on the back of her neck when Shark seemed to suffocate all sounds in the room when she entered.

The black-clad Beast slowly turned from Gazelle to Doe and then back to Gazelle. One already called ahead to confirm her appointment. It was no real coincidence Gazelle called Doe in when she was expecting Shark. She wanted someone else to try and see through it all. Someone to know all Gazelle knew and feel equally uneasy. One of the few people she could trust to keep it to themselves if they see through it was Doe. “Yes, Shark.” Gazelle forced a smile, taking a few steps closer. “This is agent Doe, another member of the medical team.” She motioned her hand at Doe and Shark turned to look at Doe again. The way she moved her head was smooth but the precise stop and locked on gaze at the person was enough to make Gazelle shift uncomfortably.

“You’re here about the eye exam, right?” Gazelle felt her breathing quicken as she was about to make her proposition. “Doe will carry it out.” She said and paused. Just as she thought, Shark turned back to her. She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. It would be cute on an animal but on someone so quiet… Gazelle swallowed heavily. “Don’t worry, this isn’t something One would mind.” She said, trying to sound as casual about it as she could. “Why don’t you just take your helmet off and stand in front of the chart.” Gazelle pointed Shark to the eye chart on the wall and stepped aside. “I told One that everything is fine with your eyesight but he insisted.”

Shark was silent. Motionless. Just when Gazelle was about to break down and sent Doe out while apologizing profusely, Shark reached to her helmet and pulled it up and off. Gazelle wasn’t aware that her lips were parted in awe and while she was staring at Doe, examining her for a reaction.

Shark’s skin wasn’t quite pale. At least not the same way Panda’s were. Shark’s skin was white but bordering on gray. It wasn’t quite the skin of a corpse but it wasn’t something she would attribute to a living being. The temperature of the skin was just like the skin - not as cold as a corpse but it had a chill to it. Shark’s face was a different story. It was covered with countless scratches and scars. Some deep, some shallow, some older, some newer. The most prominent one was what seemed to be a gunshot wound above her right eye. It was still relatively new and judging by how much the skin around it split, it did a lot of damage.

No number of scars, however, could hide the attractiveness beneath them. It was as if the scars were only a mask overlayed on a face of a model. They didn’t fit right on her and she retained her beauty in spite of them. Gazelle was certain that Mantis would be smitten if she saw the Beast without her helmet. Shark didn’t bother moving the locks of her flowing, jet black hair out of her eyes. Her eyes, finally, were something Gazelle hadn’t seen before. Her eyes were golden, almost burning. They had all the warmth and fire that the rest of her lacked. Through her hair, Shark was looking at Doe but it wasn’t quite that. The gaze was one of the things Gazelle tried to avoid as much as possible. Her eyes never seemed to completely focus on what she was looking at. They always looked through the person. They were like the eyes of a blind man but had incredible precision.

Shark stared through Doe for a few moments before quietly walking over to the chart, her helmet in hand.

With the flesh colour of a population suffering from an epidemic, Shark struck a chord in Doe’s brain. Seeing this, she jumped to the conclusion that Shark was on the brink of death, and she felt an inner tenderness rise from her body, like a radiant hand, extending invisibly towards the new Beast. It took willpower to swat it away, to remind herself, looking into those eyes, that this woman was not dying.

Something in her wondered if she ever would die.

Doe had worked with her fellow Beasts for only a few years, but in most of them she had seen the fortitude that was more important a stamp than their title could be. It was more physical than their armour. She had seen Beasts (names confidential) she was certain would have to endure weeks of physiotherapy push through and get back to their duties within days, and attend physio in downtime. She had seen Beasts whose personalities she thought would deter them from working when they could rest, and yet they get up and continue all the same.

But she still wasn’t used to quashing that radiant hand down.

“Well, it’s a surprise I’m running an eye test,” Doe said, flexing her fingers to give her mind something to focus on other than Shark’s skin, “but that’s fine. Come, and sit down here.”

She let Shark adjust herself while she wiped down the equipment. She could tell Gazelle was watching, but it wasn’t to judge her ability. It was to judge Shark. Doe began with the NCT test, and spent some time looking at the results. Not an anomaly in… sight, as it were. Doe chuckled as she thought of it. If thorough was what One wanted, then it’s what he would get.

The equipment headpiece was changed, and Doe went on to detect Shark’s vision. She knew the preconception was perfect eyesight, but didn’t let that preconception lock itself into her head and bloom into an assumption. It was the standard test. Doe showed a series of letters, or a picture and changed the lenses on the headpiece, and questioned Shark which lens was clearer.

“Won’t be too much longer. You can get back to your duties soon,” she assured Shark, then looked at Gazelle. “Will I leave the records to you, or update them myself?”

She asked not to escape her duty, but because she knew her clearance level.

Shark obeyed instructions and allowed the test to be applied to her. She was acting more than just a good soldier. She was a mass of matter letting an outside force shape her to its will. When asked to speak, Shark was hesitant. As much as her empty stare could be interpreted as hesitant. She parted her dry, bloodless lips and slowly, gently inhaled. The first word she said was hardly spoken. It wasn’t even a whisper. Air came out but barely a tone following it. Shark swallowed and tried again. Her next attempt was better but strained. The word started out squeezed out, her voice giving out at the start but picking back up. Her third attempt established a baseline for her voice and it didn’t change much. Her tone was remarkably similar to Panda’s. They were both quiet but while Panda’s voice was crisp, Shark’s was smooth - softly picking up and then fading away as she spoke. It had an intangible strength to it which could force an entire room to fall into silence and listen. Another significant difference between the two was that Panda tended to speak in a flat monotone while Shark actually had some emotions occasionally peaking in her words.

“I’ll take care of it.” Gazelle quickly replied, looking to end the trance Shark was putting her in. She then smiled nervously. “She’s technically my patient.”

Doe twitched a little when the Beast tried to speak. She felt her eyebrows beginning to frown and forced them up again. She offered Shark a passive look while she made the verdict on whether the left or right image was clearer. It wasn’t the voice she expected, nor with the delivery she anticipated. But after Shark spoke for the first time, she nodded slightly, said, “Okay,” and swapped the lenses. The question kept coming, the voice kept answering, Doe kept wanting to ask if Shark had a cold. If she would be more comfortable nodding or shaking her head - despite those movements being difficult with the headpiece there - instead of talking. But Doe didn’t ask that. Her eyebrows kept coming together though, frowning where she didn’t usually frown.

She tried to ignore the moment, and went on with her job. At this moment, it didn’t matter who Shark was - she could be a trooper with a number across their chest for all she knew. And there it was again… the stability.

She looked at Gazelle when her voice rang out. “I know she’s yours,” Doe replied, a half-smile giving the raised eyebrow a cheeky air. “Or else I’d have known she was coming.”

Gazelle chuckled, looking away from the pair of Beasts. “She’ll likely end up yours as well.” Gazelle shrugged, looking back. “I’m not always going to be available.” As she said that, Shark turned her attention to Gazelle. Clearing her throat and scratching the back of her head, Gazelle approached the pair. “I think that should do it.” She smiled, getting no reaction from Shark. “Thank you for your patience. If you need anything at all, visit either of us.” She offered but Shark simply took her helmet and put it back on. She was the intimidating robot again. A creature hyped up as so great that she was superhuman. The scars, though… The scars told a different story.

Shark walked out and left the two doctors alone. Gazelle’s eyebrows slowly rose as she stared expectantly at her younger counterpart. She wanted Doe to have the first word now that Shark was gone. Gazelle, in spite of the anxiety Shark built up in her, was excited. It was as if she was a child again, playing spy games with her brother and trying to follow their parents around without being spotted before sharing all the ‘secrets’ they saw.

Doe hoped the medic was right as she bid Shark farewell: she hoped that she would end up with Shark equally on her papers. There was no reason why she shouldn’t. Doe was just as capable as Gazelle, apart from the knowledge that Gazelle never asked the Why-Can’t-I-See-This or the Should-I-Be-Forgetting-This questions. She didn’t have to. Everything she had she knew she was meant to have. Doe still had the doubt.

Take Wolf, coming in to get her pills. There was no decision on Doe’s side. There was only the pattern of Gazelle, and the unsaid instruction. Doe was a vending machine at that moment, churning out a prescription, delivering an agreement.

But that’s the way it was. Doe had to remember where she was, had to remind herself of it: she had been here not even five years. She had to know her place. She was held to the same standards, expected to perform to the optimal of a medic’s abilities, and yet remained a vending machine.

So she hoped Gazelle was right, that she would see Shark’s documents. But the only reason she would get to see them is if she had to. No one would chose to include her: it was necessity. I’m not always going to be available… so we resort to you, if we absolutely have to.

Doe forced to the forefront of her mind something she thought only minutes ago: there are no rivals in saving lives. But…

“Well… if she won’t be an asset here, I don’t know what will,” Doe said finally. She raised a hand to her hair and ruffled it, hoping to dislodge the thoughts that clung inside her skull. “... Quiet though, isn’t she.” Her tone suffered here, betraying more impatience than she meant to. She needed to escape the room, she decided. The veins in Shark’s eyes were in her mind, the randomness of nature taking precedent in every turn they took. It wasn’t grotesque to think of: a leaf had the same. A leaf had its own veins, a rock had its own skin, a cloud had its own breath. None of that existed in this room, only in her head. She tried a smile towards Gazelle and said, about Shark, “Very quiet.”

Gazelle smiled at Doe’s comment while softly, subconsciously wringing her hands. “We certainly have a lot of quiet ones, don’t we?” She shifted her hands to behind her back once she became aware of he motions. “I guess the word normal doesn’t apply to anyone willingly fighting in wars that don’t mean anything to them.” She paused, chuckling. “That includes us.” She felt like she could finally take a deep breath now that Shark wasn’t there anymore. Like the room was much larger. “Well, I took enough of your time. I’m sure you’re pretty busy.”

“We have quiet ones?” Doe tilted her head. “Aside from… her and Panda, tell me who else is properly quiet.” Her eye fell on the sleeping Koala and her mood fell away slightly. “Well, I suppose we can add her to the list… I’ll deal with her, for now, take the weight off you.”

Doe went to Koala’s side. There were several tests she wanted to run on the woman, although she figured they might be pointless: if any problems developed because of Koala’s sleep, then she would have been taken off the experimental drugs. Blood pressure, pulse, reflexes, those were the simple ones.

“I’ll deal with her,” she said again, “Just til I have an appointment to run.”

 

[Mr_DC]

Darkness was a treat for Rat. There was a comfort about it: he had a modified visor that let him see in darkness to a distance, but didn’t give away his position with lights. Finding escapes was ten times easier in the dark, because he could see what others couldn’t.

Of course, he remembered where every door in the complex was relative to himself at the moment, so the visor was only a physical accessory to that.

Rat did as he was instructed by Moth. He came to the gym at 11:30, nonchalant in his walk, unfazed by the openness of the complex. The darkness was a treat. He knew where every corner was, and knew they would hold him if he needed them to.

Rat took a seat, hands folded in his lap, and waited. His eyes became blind as his mind reached out around the room: it had oppressed him earlier to the point of tightening his chest, but now it was a pool of comfort. He wasn’t hiding, he wasn’t about to be assaulted by an unwelcome face entering the gym, he was able to sit comfortably. The room was his burrow. The gym was to become his terrain, into which Moth would enter. More fool him.


“There.” Panda ran a circle around the air between her and Moth. What they could see and no one couldn’t was an image on their visors. A map of the world with a large, irregular circle with the Program HQ in the center of it. They had the privacy of Moth’s private room which looked just like any other Beast’s room. “That’s the maximum range so the Soma went somewhere in that region.”

Moth frowned, his hand reaching for the chin of his helmet. “That’s a pretty large area. It’s not much, Panda. Do you think you can get anything more?”

Panda shrugged. It wasn’t a small task but there was an irresistible challenge in trying to figure out what exactly One was hiding from everyone. “There is one thing but it’s stretching it.” She was certain it was important, though, but had no intention of telling Moth that so directly. “This is one of the few reinforced hull ships. It’s something they don’t really need since they’re cargo ships but if you head north…” She pointed at the region of the icey seas. “You need something to break the ice.” With a wave of her hand, Panda dismissed the map. “I’ll have a look the next time it docks.. Perhaps I can see something unusual on the ship. Maybe also question the crew.” She paused, staring at Moth. “I’m not doing any of that until you get me more information about Hunter.”


Moth clenched her teeth. He couldn’t drag her on any more. If he wanted to know where the ship went, he would need to satisfy a portion of Panda’s curiosity. The problem was that it all happened so long ago that he couldn’t question anyone about it and getting the adequate clearance level access would almost be impossible. Unless Shark managed to buckle. “Understood.” Moth nodded, allowing her to have an easy victory. Not even an attempt of negotiation. Should make it much easier for her to actually go snooping around for him. “I’ll get you as soon as I find something useful.” He smiled beneath his mask but Panda was already out the door. Too willful. The kind of a person who simply has something bad destined for them.

Taking his helmet off to rub his eyes, Moth felt a stab of annoyance. He still had to get through Rat. At that point, Moth just wanted to get him off his back. Tell him whatever he wanted to know.


Moth approached the dark doorway of the gym and paused, a hand resting on the wall to steady him. “Would you mind if I turned on the lights?” He asked, half sure that Rat was in there. Moth himself was a few minutes late so if his partner was punctual then he’d be there. Somewhere. Hiding in the darkness. A person who is taking themselves a bit too seriously. “It’s either that or I’m talking to you from here.” Moth added, hoping that Rat can’t be that proud to allow him to discuss such a matter so openly.

“By all means. Make yourself comfortable.” Rat didn’t stir from his position. When Moth turned on the lights, his darkness, his cover, would be robbed from him, but he felt quite stable now. The lack of other people, the fact he could, at the very least, take on Moth or outrun Moth if he had to, and the memory of the dark gym, all added up to a base that Rat would be confident enough to stand on.

Rat crossed his legs where he sat, on that bench, knowing he didn’t have to skulk around. Moth knew he was here. His position would be glaring, right from the moment the light flooded down.


Moth flipped the light and strolled into the gym until he was standing in front of Rat. His step was light and tried to hide his anxiety about the situation behind a facade of indifference. “So…” Moth began, looking to the door for a moment. “You’re curious about the newcomer, hm?” Moth didn’t lower his tone. He still wasn’t talking about anything he shouldn’t have. “She seems like someone who’d rip you in two if you asked the wrong question.” He mused.

“I’ll explain myself. Most of the time, I feel no inclination to look into any of my colleagues. If I can judge who they are by their personality, and knowledge of their place here, I’m content to probe no deeper unless it’s necessary. There are… exceptions however. Times I would like to know more. This new Agent fits every single one of my exceptions: she’s close to the Director. She’s quiet, therefore, non-obvious. And… she is abnormal by my standards.”

Rat shook his head, looking away from Moth. “She stood in front of us, and we all thought she was armour. That was when we all met her. And when she fits every single one of my… exceptions. To put my peg in the ground, if you are also not threatened by her, I consider you foolish. Do you understand why I want to know more, Moth?”
Rat had not moved much as he spoke, only looked up at Moth. His tone was conversational, holding no animosity. Perhaps a shred of it could be found in the word “foolish” but the following query he addressed to Moth was a genuine question. It wanted an answer.


Moth listened to Rat explain his curiosity. While he arrived annoyed and unwilling to let Rat into his world of intrigue, by the time Rat was finished, Moth was sporting a satisfied smirk behind his visor. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss Rat. The two shared a similar curiosity. Perhaps there was room even for a partnership. After all, Rat wasn't a thug like so many in the Program. Like some Beasts.


"I understand, yes." Moth began, not even bothering to don his passive tone of voice. He spoke much smoother. Quieter. What they were talking about shouldn't be overheard. "Though, it depends on why you feel threatened by her. If you think she would replace any of us, I think that's... Foolish, as you said. She may be better than any of us and even if she is better than all of us... She is just one person. She can't be everywhere at once." Moth paused. "If it's her -uh..." Moth hesitated before reusing Rat's word again. As much as it fit her, he didn't want to raise her to a mythical status just yet. "Abnormality... You're right."


Moth slowly walked closer to Rat. "She is a mystery to be unraveled. I don't know where to put her either, to be frank." He said and pointed at Rat. "I don't know any more than you do." He took a short pause before continuing. "But. But I have the means. I'll share this with you if you share what you learn with me. Sort of an intelligence pact. We share what we learn."

“My worry isn’t that she would replace me - she couldn’t. No one here has a memory like mine. And even if they do, they cannot use it like me. It is not her replacing me that I fear… it’s the Director’s trust in her. The same reason I feel threatened by Wolf. Not because she is any danger to me - she’s a brute - but because the Director keeps her so close.”


Rat stopped. Wolf and Shark had the high-and-mighty clearance levels Rat would never achieve. But… Gazelle was up on the Director’s list too. Very high. She had been the only Beast stationed with him when everyone was ordered away from that truck Wolf and Cow had brought in. He didn’t feel threatened by her.

Because she had a brain. She had a reason for being trusted.

A good reason.

“What makes… Shark the same as Wolf, the same as Gazelle… or higher…” he mused this to himself, pondering softly, querying his own brain. “That’s what you have to find out. And you too, Moth. You do have the means, you’ve declared that. I have no other choice in this situation. To not know about her is to take a bigger risk than trying to find out about her. I hate risk. But at least I won’t be doing it alone.”


“Fair enough.” Moth shrugged. “Trust has to be earned and I guess we should find out what exactly she did to earn the Director’s trust.” Moth took the liberty of sitting by Rat. He didn’t want even the slightest risk of what he was about to say getting out. “What I’m going to tell you… Keep it to yourself. No one else knows about it and that’s for a good reason.”

He lied. Panda was in on it as well. At least Panda, if no one else. He couldn’t have done it without her. Without her slip of the tongue. A mention of an override. Of the security being imperfect. A bit of help from the Order and he had a way in. It was a risky request… But it paid off.

“You know the AI we have in our suits?” Moth lowered his tone. He wasn’t speaking in unpleasant, hushed whispers. He simply spoke quietly. “The one you can use to manage your schedule or give you tactical information?” Moth glanced at Rat before continuing. “Tell it… Administrative override A6G.” He paused. “You won’t get a response but if you follow it up with your unique passphrase…” He smirked. “You’ll have access to everything within your clearance level. Even a little bit more, depending on what the system does with you.” Moth tapped a finger on his knee. “The trick here is finding other phrases. Coerce other Beasts to share them with you. Listen in on them, access the security cameras, whatever you want. Get their phrases and you get more meat.” He finished. “...Partner.”

Rat was quiet for a moment, digesting what Moth said. It sounded logical. An override in the system of the armour. There would have to be one. If a Beast was to die and his body recovered, the records in the AI would have to be accessible… it made sense. There was one problem that turned him away from the idea, though this was more out of pride: Rat’s clearance level wasn’t particularly high. The Director worked off loyalty, and Rat had never shown that. Never had he shown disloyalty, but never a puppyish love of the Director, nor the Program.

But that couldn’t be helped. It would be something. Access was access. Someone had to have it.

“Coercion, espionage, spying… sounds like you’re trying to persuade me. I have a question. How far does that override go to be present in the system’s history? Is my use of that phrase traceable?”

Moth smiled. “No worries about that. As far as I can tell, only the base AI handles the security there. Since you have the security login, it won’t bat an eye at you. I’ve been doing it for a while and I have yet to be dragged into a dark room.” He explained and stood up. “You’ll probably have access to some historical records. Enough to keep you reading every night for months. Maybe you’ll find something interesting… Maybe you’ll waste your time. I know I found some interesting snippets.” He suggested a place to start.
While it may have seemed like a friendly suggestion, it was what Moth actually wanted from the Beast. The quirk of the security meant they all had access to only certain parts of the records. They might not be interesting to some but Moth devoured the data going further back than the Program. It was all in the past to him. He just needed to connect the past to the present.

Rat was silent. He had nothing to go on other than Moth’s word. He had no way of pushing the AI’s loophole through a scan, nor tampering with the programming himself: both of those would be far more obvious than just using it as Moth said. But Moth… was it all or nothing? Rat wasn’t certain.

“You’ll have the right person looking through records,” was all Rat thought to say. Most of his brain was still pondering the paradox of trusting Moth, which left only the animalistic base behind to converse. Unfortunately, that animalistic side was particularly self-centred. “To go to any other Beast would be a mistake. All of them are brutes. They just don’t think.”

Rat knew that anything he looked through Moth would already know. So the information was already reaped, it was already stale. Moth would have everything his clearance level would allow. And that level would be equal to, if not higher than, Rat’s. The ground would be trodden.

He isn’t you, though. His mind piped up, immediately filling in the gap of self-doubt his previous thought had dug. Moth wasn’t him. Moth didn’t have his memory.

“Well now…” Rat shook himself, pleased with his deduction. “You’ve done me a favour. It’ll get me one step towards knowing what I want to know. So let’s get on the matter of my payment to you for that favour. I imagine you have something in mind.”


“Like I said…” Moth stepped back from Rat. “We’re partners now. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe me anything. Not like I could force you to pay me back if you did.” He said plainly. It was the truth, after all. At best, they were leveled. “I would appreciate it if you came to me if you found anything interesting or… Acquired another Beast’s phrase. I’ll busy myself with getting close to Shark. Might be an impossible task but getting her phrase would be the holy grail.” Moth smiled. Another partner for him. Not much more pleasant than Panda. Neither of them would really understand his goal. Neither would support him without something in return. They were still just… Partners.

“There is no one else I could go to. However… obtaining a passphrase would be much easier for me than for you. It is my area after all. I would just need to hear them say it once.”

It would be difficult. He would have to target a Beast of his level. Learn the process. Discover the method of discovery itself. He couldn’t risk going after any… important Beast.

The question would become, then, who used their passphrase the most? Of all the Beasts, which one would have his or her schedule completely sorted, who would access their data the most frequently, and who would be the most lax about using their phrase?

That was the first step. To make a mental map from the Beasts who fit that requirement. Rat just had to consider who.

 

[0stinato]

Mantis was never picky about music. If it had a beat she could follow, she enjoyed it. If she had a few drinks in her, the beat didn't matter. Rock, however, had a particular place in her heart. Ever since her cage-fighting days, she loved rock. Most of the more aggressive songs gave her a matching tempo which her opponents couldn't follow. The slower stuff slowed her pace, allowing her to conserve her energy and tire out her opponent.

When not in a fight, though, Mantis was content with gently banging her head to the beat. A drink would come in handy. Something to relax her even further. Something to align her to the music more closely.

"Mantis!" She heard a shout rip through her music. The communication channels were set to always be significantly louder than whatever the soldier was listening to.

Feeling completely taken out of her element, Mantis looked up at a soldier in golden armor waving at her. He was across the street from Mantis, hiding behind a collapsed pillar which used to hold up a balcony above him. He was surrounded by a squad of regular troopers, all keeping their heads down. The trembling of the ground beneath her and a hail of bullets flying above Lion's head reminded her where she was.

"Oh." Mantis paused. She was on a battlefield, taking cover in an alley, just behind the front line of the left flank. Well, it wasn't really her fault she got distracted. Her favorite song came on. And besides, her orders were far too cautious for her liking. She remembered One's words pretty clear even though they were a few days before.

"Agents Mantis and Lion will be supporting the left flank. I expect you to lag after the center in progress and allow that to be the main combat zone. Don't get too relaxed, though. As the right flank won't advance far, you'll have quite a fight on your hands."

"Mantis!" Lion repeated, shouting desperately.

"Yo!" She waved back with a lot less urgency than Lion had done. "What's up?"

"God..." He muttered and pointed over his cover. "Are you ready? We'll suppress them and you can charge." He explained.

Mantis nodded and dusted the fine sand and rubble dust which clung to her armor. She had to make the Director proud. She was there for a reason, after all. Mantis readied herself against the wall and waited.


Armadillo’s job was to show stability. The dark armour cut the shape of his silhouette into the landscape. Unwavering. Heavy rifle in his hands. He stood to attention at his station, amidst the abandonment of the streets. Cover was to both sides, but he was standing firm in the open. If anyone wanted to take a potshot at him, they could. But it would take more than an explosive to get through the plating.

Armadillo’s background was in protection. Prior to his involvement with the Program and Beast Project, he was a politician’s bodyguard. His orders were constant: be vigilant, be ready, be loyal. Armadillo never forgot that. Vigilant: he constantly surveyed his surroundings without letting his concentration waver, without letting the armour weigh him down. Ready: the heavy rifle in his hand would be raised to kill in an instant, and he would take up a firing stance in one step. Loyal: he questioned nothing, and proceeded.

The right flank was a pressure. A wall of sturdy Beasts and emotionless troopers as their support. Never a second of flickering attention. Armadillo felt the troopers, despite being unable to see them. They would push if they needed to. He would head defense. He wouldn’t order them. He wouldn’t have to.

Armadillo didn’t order. He suggested.

There would be a retaliation any second. The left flank were being shot at.

Armadillo pushed his chest out. That was his stimulus to the others: step into cover. If anyone was going to get shot at, it was better being him. There was no way a shot could ‘get lucky’ and pierce Armadillo.


Ministry building. Long building. Five levels. Patrolled wall surrounding it. Extraction target presumed on the third level. Elimination target presumed the same. Non-hostile location unknown.

Shark looked over her shoulder. A string of dead soldiers ripped open or in pieces. The only squad who went after her. Only ones who tried to stop her once she passed the front line.

She tightened her grip on the bloody tomahawk on her hand and looked back at the building. At the wall surrounding it. At… The group of three guards guarding one of the entrances. Giving her tomahawk a twirl, the blood dribbling on the roof beneath her, Shark moved.

Rat was keeping a close eye on his new colleague. They were working much closer than he expected much sooner than he thought they would. If the Director was to pair her with anyone, he never anticipated it would have been him. But that was the way the cards fell. But Rat didn’t like cards. He didn’t like the situation either.

It wasn’t because Shark was with him. It was that the Director had put her up alongside Rat without providing Rat any intel on her specialities.

Rat’s infiltration had a structure, vaguely speaking. It was a tried-and-true three-stage method. Stage one was the act of infiltrating, which was made flawlessly easy if he was working with Beasts, although he could do it alone. That all depended on the situation. In a combat situation, Beasts acting in their own ways assisted Rat without knowing it. In a peaceful situation, Rat moved soundlessly, not needing anyone else.

Stage three was the same. Beasts would allow extraction to be performed simply.

It was all about distraction. About sleight-of-hand. About perception.

Rat would use the chaos, distraction or predicted future actions of Beasts to move. Those with tendencies to strike unpredictably were his favourites in combat. Mantis. Bear. Wolf, in the right moments. He would use them to his advantage. But that advantage only worked because he knew the Beast.

Knew them intimately.

Rat didn’t know a thing about Shark. As such, he was being purposefully twice as cautious, needing time to digest Shark’s methods before using her. But she was clearly heading off to kill, and that would be enough. Rat was away from her. Moving as stealthily as water, he slunk from shadow to shadow, preparing himself to scale the wall as soon as she began to kill. He had to use her, despite his limitations. And he had to use his anger at the situation to be active, not to take risks.


The day was dragging along for Karim. It was to be expected - they were in a war. His side was fighting a losing battle which became all the more apparent when the mercenaries showed up on the scene. All there was left for them was to wait. For the soldiers on the front, it was a tiring fight against the inevitable. For him, it was guarding the people who just refused to give up. Stand at an entrance and wait. Wait for the mercenaries to show up on the other side of the street and end his life. He wouldn't fight. If they wanted in, he would let them. The battle was lost. Giving up his life was pointless.

Karim glanced at the two men by his side. They didn't seem to share his concerns and instead chose to share their war stories with each other. They were no different than the people inside the ministry behind them. They didn't care about the reasons for the war. They didn't care about the outcome. Just fight. Fight and die. It was almost enough to make Karim break down. Start crying. Make his way towards the enemy with his hands in the air. He just wanted it to end.

One of the guards suddenly fell back with some force and a haunting thump. Both Karim and the other guard turned to look at him. It was instinctive even though he knew he should find cover. Hide. Run. Unlike what they expected, he wasn't brought down by a sniper or a stray bullet. Buried deep in the center of his face, splitting his head ever so slightly open, was some sort of an axe.
An axe. Karim couldn't process what he was seeing. Why would anyone use an axe instead of a gun? Why would anyone be so brutal?
When the pair turned ahead, they were met face to face with their assailant.

They didn't look quite like the rest of those mercenaries. Not in their gray armor. Not even like the colorful ones. The person in front of them was wearing completely black. Karim's reaction to the soldier's lightning fast grab on their rifles was simply to stumble back. He needed some distance from the attacker. It was too late, though. The next thing he felt was a sharp pain in his head as his rifle was violently pushed into his face.

The next moment, Karim found himself on the ground, his feet swept. As much as he disliked the other soldier, the sound of his skull crushing from the attacker's heavy fist was more than enough of a reason to pity him.

His fate would be the same. Not even a chance to surrender and give up. To stop fighting. The last act of defiance he could muster as her fist was coming down towards his face was to pull the trigger. To alert the base and stop the monster. His finger jerked and... Nothing. Nothing happened. Whoever attacked them was more than a simple brute. She was clever enough to flip the safety on as she rammed them with their rifles.

Shark punched out the final soldier and paused, looking around. A patrol wasn't coming any time soon. No one inside the walls saw what she did. The blood on the ground was minimal. The execution of her assault was satisfactory. Grabbing the guards by their hands, Shark began pulling them out of sight. She didn't want an alert raised before she was ready.

Rat took a different way when Shark began her assault. He stayed for a second, biding his time, aware of the risk, and knew any eyes watching the scene would be on her. On the prowess in her movement. The perfect opportunity.

It if wasn’t unusual enough to wield a tomahawk in battle - although with the description of her armour the Director gave, it was able to withstand the beating it would take getting to close range, Rat theorised - her collective powers were. Short range seemed to be her place, but Rat wasn’t sure. Melee weapons and short-range firearms, but why those? A method of intimidation?

Rat snorted, looked forward, and took off. To the accompaniment of Shark’s assault and the steady rhythm of shots echoing off the walls, Rat moved in step, every single action one of intense practice. Shark danced in chrome and arms. Rat soared in silence.

His first move would be to disable technological security, and set off alerts in other parts of the building. The back of the building would be one of the points, the least conspicuous place. When Rat was closer, he instructed the jammer to be run, and waited for the alert to sound, completely in his element and comfortable enough to hold position.

The alarms in the ministry sounded. They were nowhere near Shark but that was the plan. Rat did his job. Shark pushed open the door she was standing behind. The door was locked but the lock simply couldn't hold against a forceful push against it and simply broke allowing the door to open like it wasn't even there.

Stealth wasn't mandatory. Extraction and elimination. Elimination. With Rat going for Swan, Shark had free reign to get her hands bloody in the most efficient way.

With the assumption being that the command was on the same floor as Swan, Shark headed up the stairs to the third floor. She wasn't keeping a low profile and being particularly careful about examining her surroundings but her complete focus was on sounds. On a gasp of an enemy spotting her. On a step not belonging to her. On the sound of a gun being brought up to a shoulder. No one would be faster than her. No one could act before her ax flew across the room and embedded itself into a skull.


Just like outside, Rat kept in Shark’s shadow. Her storming into the building, abandoning all sort of espionage and stealth, was all he needed. With the layout of the building in his mind, and the facts of Shark’s presence, Rat was creating advantages for himself as he moved.

He stayed behind her as he followed her up, then split, electing for a detour. With alarms confusing the enemy, and Shark on the same floor, all resistance would focus on her, leaving him the time to search for Swan.

Her being untraceable was an issue, but it was a purposeful one. If she had followed the plan, all Rat had to do was reach her. She wouldn’t be expected to stop an infiltration in her facade as a fellow of these idiots. She was here for her brain, not for her ability with arms.

Rat drew close to a wall, hearing orders being shouted around a corner. Orders meant more than one person, and more than one person would be challenging for Rat alone. He took in his position, put his hand against a flashbang, and elected for that to be his backup.

He would wait on Shark: he would work with her.


Shark walked up to Rat, the darkness of her armor hiding splatters of blood. For a moment, she questioned the reason he stopped. They still had to find Swan. Before she could start making assumptions, she heard it. A voice. Footsteps. Shark closed her eyes for a moment to focus on the sounds. At least three people. Could be more if they were silent and stationary. She would have to distract them before attempting an attack. She had access to the perfect distraction.

Shark returned where she came from and came back a minute later, her 'distraction' in hand. While she could throw a handful of bullets, it wouldn't be enough. If they saw her throw it, it would be useless and if they didn't, the bullets wouldn't hold their attention for a second. What would be perfect, though, is a severed head of one of their comrades. If they saw it, they'd focus on it flying, trying to figure out what it was. When it landed, though, their minds would be shocked for a couple seconds, trying to process what they were seeing. More than enough to give her the advantage she needed. She flung the head as close she could towards them without exposing herself. A moment before the haunting thump, Shark stepped out, her ax raised for a throw.

Four people. All armed. Two completely focused on the head, almost falling over in shock. One taking a step back from the head with potential of spotting her. The final one was already looking for the source of the distraction and noticed Shark. He would have to be the first target. A shift in the elbow. A twist of the wrist. The ax would find its way to his throat and not hit his helmet.

As soon as the ax left her hand, Shark was already a step into her sprint and the second guard noticed her while the first was taking a step back and raising his gun. His brain didn't yet process the danger flying through the air towards him. Only a moment after he fired his first shot, the ax embedded itself deep in his flesh.

The other two soldiers were turning while the third trained his aim on Shark but she was close enough. Dropping into a slide, Shark avoided the first few shots while firing off a shell from her shotgun into the soldier's chest. The other two hardly had time to react as one got fed a shell and the other got tackled firmly to the ground. With the final soldier a begging, crying, slobbering mess by her on the floor, Shark cleared the hallway.

The last soldier didn't present a threat. Few of them did. They weren't the best. They were guards given military equipment. Perhaps never even fired a gun in their life. He was no threat. Shark glanced back at the way she came from. Where Rat was. They were still on a mission. She was still a soldier.

Standing up, Shark aimed her shotgun down at the man and fired.

Her ax didn't hit the target perfectly. The soldier was moving. Apparently, he was shouting as well. The ax got through his open mouth, grinding through the teeth of his lower jaw, and finally cutting into the spine. Shark pulled out her tomahawk with a bone-chilling crunch no normal man should ever hear. It was a sound the brain instinctively recoiled from and sounded the alarm bells.

Rat had kept in place while he waited for the sound of violence to die. Part of it was through his training: keep still, and consider your position. He was thinking about the alarms. Their use as a distraction was over. They were useless now. All of the complex would know where Shark was now.

But that could be used.

The head was the other reason he was stationary. It wasn’t orthodox. It had distracted him. The dripping neck had distracted him. The line of blood that described its arc through the air had distracted him.

He forced the thought to the back of his mind and stood, rounding the corner.

The sight sickened him.

Rat could stomach the blood, the noise, the wetness. Rat had hidden amongst bleeding specimens before, had used bodies as cover, had slit a few throats in his time. He had kept up to date with the reports he was allowed to see - and with the method Moth described, a few he was not meant to see - had read of Skunk’s atrocities, of Wolf’s purposeful violence. Even incidences at the Program that were under hushed parameters. He read them. And he looked at those Beasts differently when he took it in.

The super-soldier standing before him was what sickened him. The Director’s new toy. These are his methods. This is his playtime.

He looked away from her, and on the corridor down the way. Previously, he didn’t think it possible to get more serious about the mission. But now he was aware of Shark. He would listen to her movements with the same attentiveness as he listened to the surroundings. He moved.

There was a mindlessness about it, an animal mindlessness. But, the head proved everything was calculated. The impossible humanity of the killing amongst the rendered flesh.

Rat would remember that.


Swan drew on her cigarette. The alarm was a background noise. Her mind wasn't paying attention to it at that point. If it stopped, she probably wouldn't even notice it. She blew the smoke out, letting a small white cloud rise above her toilet cubicle. The toilet seat already took on much of her warmth and her legs were going numb from the hours of uncomfortable sitting. At least the officers she infiltrated wouldn't question her absence with the alarm blaring. She was probably written off.

A gentle tap of a nail on the cigarette shook off the excess ash. A part of her was growing tired of such missions. It wasn't why she joined the Program. She was meant to mingle in powerful circles, gathering as much she could for both One and herself. Instead, she was hiding in a toilet cubicle. Wasn't the worst place she hid but it was still beneath what she was expecting from the Program. It was beneath her.

Swan drew on her cigarette again. Shots rang out nearby. Her extraction was close. No other explanation. The bombs didn't start falling on her head yet. She exhaled, tapping out the cigarette against the green cubicle wall.

Shark followed her partner, allowing him to lead. She was close by him, though. Ax in one hand, dripping fresh blood, and a shotgun in the other, already filled with new shells. She had to ensure the package was acquired before she went her own way and eliminated the targets. Soon enough, she will be on her own through the task.

Coming to the bathroom door, Rat took his bearings before looking over his shoulder at Shark. He made a motion of his head to explain he would duck in and retrieve Swan, then he did just that. He didn’t need her to signal she understood. The plan was known. He was ready to initialise the second lot of signal jams after securing Swan, but first he had to make sure she was alone, alone and clean.

He didn’t speak upon entering the bathroom, and moved silently to a wall before initiating a scan on the room. Nothing except what he had on him showed up. Swan was clean. Knowing this, he moved up, tapping twice on the closed stall door.


Swan opened the door and was face-to-face with a Beast she knew well. It was usually Rat who performed extractions. There were few people who could get to her when she was under cover without putting her at risk. “I guess everything went according to plan.” She gave Rat a confident nod. “As usual.” She stepped out of the cubicle and then saw Rat’s partner.

Swan hesitated. Even though the Beast wore black armor, Swan could see the blood on her arms. Not her blood, of course. She gulped. There was something threatening about Shark, even though Swan knew fully well that both of them were there to protect her. Swan was probably in the safest two pairs of hands of the Program and yet she didn’t feel safe. It was as if simply approaching Shark was asking to be decapitated.

“So… Which one of you is getting me out of here?” Swan asked, hoping it would be Rat. While Shark was advertised as the best, Swan would feel infinitely safer in Rat’s hands.

Shark didn’t reply. She twirled her tactical axe and stopped it suddenly to make the excess blood splatter off it. Without a word, she turned around and left the toilet. She had a target to eliminate.

“Check in with the command.” Swan motioned at Rat, feeling relieved Shark wasn’t between her and the exit anymore. “I’ll leave it up to you how we handle security. Sneak, shoot or pretend I’m a hostage.” She paused. “Just don’t put me in the line of fire.” Even though Rat’s armor wasn’t exactly a walking tank like Bear or Armadillo, it was still better than the civilian clothes Swan had.

From his slightly crouched position, Rat narrowed his eyes as Swan laid hers on Shark. With her facial expressions, he decided not to mention and perpetuate the conversation.

“We shouldn’t have a problem. At all. I’ll make sure everything is centred away from us. Just keep with me,” he spoke bluntly, giving orders in his heightened awareness of the situation. Shark didn’t help his own psyche either. Her grip on the situation was threatening to loosen his. But she had left, and that was enough. He pulled up orders, and instructed alarms on the upper floors. He wouldn’t be taking Swan further up.

He trusted Swan to stay behind him and wait on his command. Nothing would be out of place… unless Shark put something in their way by an action of her own. She was a rogue element, and Rat hated rogue elements.

“Fall in,” he muttered, proceeding through the door into the corridor, empty except from the spots of blood that showed where Shark had stalked off to.

“Expect first artillery strikes to hit the building within two minutes.” A command aide notified Rat. Swan grimaced. One was impatient. He wouldn’t have ordered a strike unless he was certain the pair could get out in time but he didn’t hesitate on giving them a deadline. He gave them enough time to get out but not without rushing. Following Rat, Swan looked over her shoulder. He wouldn’t call artillery on Shark, though… Would he? Or was all that a part of the show? Prove how great she is by shelling her location. Send her to kill someone who would die anyway just to show her surviving a suicide mission. She was studying One long enough that she could guess the cards he was holding. That she could guess the cards he would play.

Plans had to be changed in a moment. No time for a cautious route. They’d have to cut through some corridors to their egress point, and they could only rely on their swiftness and on Shark’s enigmatic distraction. Wherever she was, Rat was getting ready to curse her if she wasn’t the building’s point of focus. With the amount of people she’d killed while here, and with Rat only slinking in shadows around her, their target had to be her.

Thing is, none of these people were stupid. Their was the rogue element of their intelligence to consider.

Rat drew his pistol, feeling its burden against his palm. He didn’t want to have to draw it, but here he was.

“We’ll move faster. I’ve got an alternative route. We’ll be out in one minute thirty, owing for obstacles.” And he took off, launching away from the wall into an almost silent run. He moved effortlessly, gliding. He rolled his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his centre of gravity low. It minimised noise and established his balance.

“Not used to running after my escort.” Swan spoke between breaths, running after Rat through the ministry building. She was no Mantis but no one was. At least the training in the Program kept all of them on their toes. No one allowed to slouch too much.

Most of the security in the building got called off to the opposite end of the building where Shark was raising hell. The few that remained tried inefficiently to cover the entrances.

There would have to be some killing. If he was alone, Rat was confident he would be able to anticipate and dodge enough fire to confuse the enemy and slip out of an entrance, but he couldn’t trust that tactic when he had Swan in tow. With two of them, there was twice as much opportunity for issues to arise. No time to waste. Less than two minutes.

“Hang back a second,” Rat advised, pausing before stepping round a corner with his pistol raised. He took two steps and fired, scowling at how necessary it was. He aimed for the neck. The head would be pointless; the probability that a shot would kill through the helmet was less than at the neck. Besides, no one ever protected their necks in battle.

He shot twice, one for one. The first one emitted an awful gurgling noise as Rat hissed for Swan to come. He would have to shoot them both dead. Better if no one saw Swan leave. Better if she just… vanished.

As he moved down the corridor, he shot again, first the gurgling pile on the floor who was reaching for something on his belt, and then the other who didn’t seem to be moving. Better to waste bullets, better to be careful.

“Out,” Rat said.

Swan followed Rat’s commands. That was something she was good at. She learned a long time ago that everyone had orders to keep her alive and that they were doing their best to do so. Her only job was to do as she was told. There was just one thing she wasn’t used to, though. She couldn’t watch death. She had to blink when shots were fired and she had to avert her eyes when they hit their marks.

“Acknowledged.” The word came back to Rat. “Artillery firing. You will have to rush through the enemy line to retreat. We are tracking your location and our troops will get the order to provide overwhelming suppressive fire once you are near. Just keep moving.” A commander ordered.

“This really doesn’t seem planned all that well…” Swan complained. While she knew Rat was in practically the same situation she was in, he signed up for it. She didn’t.



With all the Beasts on the scene, Cow had been informed his little-utilised skill of being a meat-shield would come in handy. In short, his job was to step out of cover first and draw attention to himself to allow Mantis her time. If he cared more, he might have been insulted. But he didn’t, so he wasn’t. He knew he was unusually resistant to physical pain. That didn’t change what getting shot felt like, but the difference was that he wouldn’t go into shock. Not easily, anyway. Shock was a greater killer than a bullet, when you really got down to it.

But Cow wasn’t being that yet. He was waiting for the command to go. The voice of a stranger in his ear, one of One’s aides. They would tell him when to step out, when to endanger himself. He was waiting until then, holding his weapons - two medium SMGs - in loose grips. He was entirely aware of what was going on around him, aware of his position and what the world looked like outside of his cover spot. But he wasn’t engaging with that. Far from it.

Cow was talking steadily to a trainer back at base. More specifically, he was a junior trainer who Cow was grooming to become a senior trainer. Since Cow was away, he had set the junior trainer the task of taking a group of recruits for training, and was listening in on what the trainer was saying. Most of his comments - which he was saying directly to the trainer, unheard by anyone beyond the trainer - were that the trainer’s tone had to have a proper edge to it.

“I wouldn’t ask you to copy my method of demanding they repeat my every word,” Cow said at one point, watching a wall in his eyeline crumble slightly from stray gunfire, “but I always suggest trainers get a response from the troops. Even just a ‘yes sir,’ anything. Adopt something. You used to say ‘is that clear,’ when you were done talking, did you not?”

The trainer mumbled an affirmative.

“Get it back. You need to find a system and a system that works. There’s theory material on it. I’ll isolate some for you that I think will help. You’re not doing badly, you’re just not doing well. Doesn’t mean you can’t do well, it just means more work has to go into your improvement. Any questions?”

“Just that…” the trainer stopped. He was talking quietly. Cow could tell he was unwilling to let the recruits hear him, in case they began to lose their already-waning respect for their trainer. That was compulsive of any trainer who had no confidence. Cow sighed internally, wondering if he should drop his assets from the trainer. Something told him not to, though. The trainer had talents of his own. He had an eye for perfection. He was good when working one-on-one with recruits. Just not a public speaker by any means.

Cow realised he had completely missed the trainer’s question. This was odd, as Cow’s brain usually picked up on information. He became confused, because he didn’t hear anything phrased as a question. It sounded more like an order.

Ah, it had been the aide. That’s why.

“What did you say?” Cow said, switching back to speak to the trainer, while shifting himself away from the wall and striding into the open. He raised his right arm and began firing. The SMG in his left hand joined the barrage of the right-hand one as soon as he got into position.

“I want to get their attention, but it’s hard.”

“Slam your fist on something,” Cow said, feeling the repeating kickback of the firearms be absorbed half-way up his arms. “Wait a second, then talk.” Cow wasn’t aiming at anything in particular. Perhaps he would angle his arm so his ammo would hit the occasional head, but his eye didn’t linger to see if he hit or not. He was identifying danger zones, generously heaping out speeding bullets to suppress fire to allow Mantis her time. His visor flashed the barrels’ sparks. His hands got the brunt of the SMGs’ force. They would begin to cramp up any moment.

“I’ll have to build up to that, I can’t just start doing it.”

Cow began to register pain. His firing was doing a thorough job of suppressing those in front of him but people above him, in cover spots of their own, were shooting too. They didn’t have Cow’s bullets sieging them. He could only hope there wasn’t a little red dot trained on his head.

Ah, he didn’t care if there was or not. Take ‘em out back and blow their brains out. Make gelatin out of ‘em. Make kids’ crayons outta the rest.

Only problem was, he didn’t much feel like dying today. He had trainers to coach.

So he turned his right hand on the buildings, steady in his movement, before he spoke to the trainer again, this time through a jaw clenched to numb the oncoming rush of pain. He had to retain control of the pain, so as not to drop right there. At least pain, in general, had the unusual effect of focusing his mind. He suppressed adrenaline in the heat of attack, in the heart of the battle. It was after the battle when the adrenaline seeped into his muscles, made him shake. As soon as adrenaline was liable to hit was when anyone would lose control.

Cow wasn’t losing control. He was injured, but he wasn’t certain where, how badly… but he had a job to do. Two, in fact, simultaneously. Gazelle and Doe existed to pull bullets out of him. The engineers existed to fix his armour. His jobs weren’t to worry about either of those things.

“So make a system in your head and stick to it. Begin using it right now, when...” He took a breath, and changed his mind about talking. “You’re on your own for a while, I’m being fucking shot at. Full mute.”

At his word, the trainer’s line was muted.

“Mantis,” Cow demanded, opening a comm. “Mantis, what the fuck are you waiting for, you radioactive midget?! Go!”


Lion received the order at the same time Cow did. Seeing the large man step out into a hail of bullets made Lion feel more than a little uneasy. Almost every Beast put their life at risk once in a while and Lion was too often there to see it and feel like he would watch them die. Another burning star snuffed out so carelessly.

He knew Cow could soak up more bullets than anyone but the man still had his limits. He didn’t want to see him collapse. Motioning for his squad, Lion poked up out of the cover and opened fire. He had to mix between shooting to cover Mantis’ move and trying to pin firing at Cow.

“Can’t a woman masturbate in peace…” Mantis grumbled and poked her head out. Her path was clear enough. Her two daggers were in her hands and her muscles were tense with energy she was about to release. Mantis picked her moment carefully. When it seemed that every gun on her side opened fire at the same time, she dashed out and began her sprint across the street. It always seemed to last forever until she got there but when she did, it seemed like it all happened in an instant.

Her eyes were locked onto her target. Not wavering. She couldn’t hesitate. If she had a single doubt about her moves, she would lose precious moments. Moments which could cost her her life.

Leaping over the burned out husk of a pickup truck, Mantis found herself on the enemy’s side of the frontline. She was in her element.

One of the soldiers in the squad she was aiming for found himself right in the path of her foot and received a kick he would not be getting up from. With that soldier lying sprawled on his back, Mantis took a moment to process the situation. One soldier right by her left. Another slightly further. One to the right. It was a four man squad. Either that or the rest of the squad were spread out in other cover.

The soldier by her side faltered, clearly not expecting an enemy to appear where his buddy was a moment ago. He shouldn’t have hesitated. Mantis already had a plan and he way a key part of it.

Grabbing the soldier’s collar, she brought him in with one hand and met his temple with her dagger with the other hand. He was dead instantly but still propped up against her. A human shield against the remaining soldier on her left.

The reactions of the soldiers on either side of her changed from shock to action. With their sights locking on to Mantis, it was time for her second act.

Pulling the dagger out of her human shield, Mantis flung it at the soldier on her right, hitting him through the eye. Knife throwing relied more on luck than skill in combat situations but Mantis’ luck had yet to run out.

The final soldier opened fire but his bullets deformed and fragmented through his friend’s corpse and did little damage to Mantis’ armor when it hit her. With her third act, Mantis grabbed her human shield’s handgun and fired at the last soldier, killing him. One zone was cleared.

“Wait a minute…” She spoke to Cow. “Did you just call me a midget? Words hurt, man.” She joked but flinched as bullets started flying towards her from either side. She was noticed but that only gave the rest of the team an opening to advance as well. Her job, though, was done for now. She couldn’t move until the zone cooled off. Turning her music back on, Mantis pulled the corpses closer to her and waited.

Mantis was doing her job, at least. Cow waited, waiting until his clips had run out of ammo, then ran forward into a second spot of cover where he swapped the empty clips out for fresh ones. He allowed himself a breath but, as he heard gunfire from the other side, he stepped out again, eye locking on to two areas he needed to shoot.

Those assaulted by the gun in his left hand were being consistently shot at. But his right hand was struggling to maintain steady fire. That was because his brain was finally zeroing in on the cause of the pain: a bullet in his right shoulder. He registered the warmth of blood between the underlayer of his armour and his skin. A bullet had found its way between a couple of plates, probably. That’s what must have happened. Probability predicted it.

He had to move up. The time to advance was now, and he had to cover their next movements. Be as ruthless as his namesake protecting its calf. He could never have been called Bull for that reason: he was bovine and slow while at base, but a calculating martyr while in battle. Apparently, at least.

Mantis needed cover again, so he headed to do that. He stopped firing, mostly to give his arms a break, but partly to emphasise a cocksure staple of Beastdom, and walked forward through the fray. His arms were set apart, SMGs in hand, suggesting to his opponents a silent is that all you’ve got? The pain in his shoulder bit at him as he did this. Other bullets bit at his armour as he did this, as he walked to his next station.

He put his foot up on an exposed rung of rebar, and began firing again. His right hand was back covering what it could of the vantage points above, and his left was centred at ground level. He wasn’t looking for hits, nor for kills; he was only looking for shots to be in the vicinity of enemies. But still, he had to be somewhat accurate. If he wasn’t, his bluff would be called. He couldn’t be continuously firing at, say, a window only for a soldier to appear at a different window and shoot him. So his eyes moved continuously, flicking around the scenery, while his body maintained a relaxed stance against the rebar. Inside, he was anything but calm. He was becoming aware he had been shot somewhere else, but he wasn’t sure where yet.

“If you want, I can call you much worse than a midget,” Cow said, a pained note in his growling voice. “Thrush-munching dyke.”


"Can I get some fucking support here?!" Wolf shouted, feeling like she couldn't squeeze herself more behind the burning tank wreck than she was already. The rest of her squad laid on the ground or were pressed against her sides, waiting for the shooting to stop while Bear, the largest of them all, constantly got hit by bullets which ricocheted off.

Everyone else in the main battle column was too slow to keep up with them which lead Wolf to stick out of the front line, not surrounded only because her squad was still capable of mowing down anyone who tried to completely encircle them.

"Horse!" Contacted the Beast. "Get your crew's dicks out of your mouth and move up!" She shouted, getting snickers from her squad in spite of their pinned-down state. Wolf, however, received a relatively calm reply back.

"Field repairs, Wolf." Horse replied with his thick, Russian accent. "They took out my threads. I'll send another up."

"What kind of a can are you driving?" Wolf growled. The tanks seemed to break down in every battle and always when they're most needed.

"A complex one, Wolf." There was some annoyance in his tone that time. "If you slowed down, we could support each other and no one would get hurt."

Before Wolf slung an insult at Horse, everyone heard their AI spread a warning. "Enemy artillery entered the field again." The monotone voice said.

Wolf cursed out loud. She had to move to better cover and do it fast. She took the opportunity to peak out of cover for a short moment before being forced back down. The enemy had them pretty much surrounded but no one packed anything tough enough to rapidly punch through their armor. No one except the stationary machine gun on the second floor of the building ahead of them. It would be enough to rip them to pieces if they moved up.

“Requesting orders.” She grumbled calmly to One’s aides. She was stuck and needed someone to light a fire under everyone’s asses.

“Calm down, agent Wolf.” One spoke. “Crow and his team are working on regaining air superiority before pushing back the enemy artillery.” He explained in such a calm tone that it both relaxed Wolf and annoyed her for being so relaxing. “We will move to the assault phase as soon as the main objective is completed. Do you think you can hold position until then?”

With a frustrated sigh, Wolf looked around. “Could go either way, One.” She replied. “It’d be a hell of a lot easier with a tank to distract them.”

There was a short pause before One spoke to her again. “I recalled one from the right flank. Hold position until the assault and then start moving up aggressively again.” He ordered.


"Gazelle, Doe." One began speaking to the two leaders of the medical team over the radio. "I expect casualties in the center. Doe, take your team and support the troops. Gazelle, you take the left flank - it appears Cow is wounded. Again."

Gazelle gave Doe a quick smile. The pair have been told to stay far from the frontline and only direct their teams if they were necessary. It appeared that the situation would get hot. The pair would have to be personally on the field.

“Time to step up,” Doe said. “Best of luck, sis. Be careful.” Doe, with her orders, couldn’t hang about to wish Gazelle more positives. Her place was in the centre… to support. That was a term Doe didn’t like to hear. Support was anything from patching up a bullet grazing on a soldier to throwing something explosive to the other side. She would hang back, keep herself where she was best, and keep things working.


“Is my team still alive?” Lion heard Mantis question over the radio. A smile escaped him even as bullets hit the wall he was hiding behind. She was still alive. That was definitely an accomplishment. Unhurt even or he would have seen medics rush right over to the enemy line. Hell, he’d be among them, doing his best to keep them safe.

“We’re fine, Manny.” He replied. “How are you doing?” The fighting seemed to have slowed down. There was significantly less shooting going on. He could take a slight break to see how Mantis was doing.

“Playing thumb war with the corpse on top of me.” She said casually. “I managed to lose one. I know, I didn’t believe it at first either. I think he’s not really dead.” Lion laughed and even heard a few chuckles from the troopers taking cover as well. “I’m hiding beneath festering bodies and am so bored. Wanna play a game?” She asked, a hint of excitement in her tone. Lion, though, had little time to spare.

“Mantis…” He shook his head, unable to get rid of the smile she brought out.

“I spy something that begins with… C.” She started and Lion had to fight to suppress a laugh.

“Is it ‘corpse’, Manny?” He played along, deciding it would be more fitting than simply muting her.

“Ah, I see you’re a veteran of this game. I won’t go easy on you.” She commented and Lion sighed. He had to get back to the fight.

“Just hold tight, we’ll move up on you soon.” Lion said and rejoined the soldiers in fighting.

“What does that phrase even mean... “ Mantis grumbled. “Fine, I’ll hold my tight, little ass.”


Cow heard Mantis and Lion’s discourse, but couldn’t bring himself to join in. He needed his breath for swearing, which he was doing quietly from his position. He had dropped to one knee in cover behind a bullet-ridden trailer. He held a pistol in his left hand, and supported his right arm across his bent elbow. His left arm was fine. His right was hurting quite a bit. He knew he could stand up and keep going, of course he could. Most of the damage on his right arm was superficial. But some bullets had delivered the force of their shots to his arm. Mostly short-term internal damage. Except for the shoulder. Around there, as with a lot of his chest, his armour had undergone a lot of abuse. Its white colouration was scarred with the scratched chrome beneath, revealed by the impacts and scathings of bullets that hadn’t managed to get through.

He took in a breath, and let his body relax as he let it out. He had his pistol. He had one hand perfectly accurate. He didn’t need his right hand. It could rest against his body for now. He just felt tired of the whole thing. Who was he even shooting? Cow couldn’t remember. What country hired them, and what country was shooting back?

He breathed again, this time expelling it in a growl of forced determination. They’d injured him, and he didn’t like that. Injuries took up time. Injuries meant time in a splint, or a sling, taking the weakest painkillers Gazelle could possibly give him. Injuries meant dealing with all that. Cow didn’t like dealing with that. And these people had caused this future for him.

They weren’t going to get away with that.

Fortunately, with Mantis up front, Cow didn’t have to kill on purpose. She’d do it. Of course, he’d probably killed with the spray of fire he’d put up, but he didn’t check. Didn’t matter.


Rat suppressed the urge to curse as he received word. He relayed it as efficiently to Swan as he could while he escorted her. “Suppressive force from our side once we’re out. We’ll have to take some risks. And no, you’re right. Shark shattered whatever plan there was.”

That was true, it had to be. Rat didn’t let anything go unless it was planned. No commander would be giving him random orders because circumstances had changed. Rat didn’t let that happen: Rat planned for every circumstance. Rat read the situation before it happened. Shark was the only rogue element here. That was what had thrown things off. She was a good distraction. But she didn’t fit into any plan.

“No time to think. Just stick close. I’ll act on instinct.”

It was all he had left. In-the-moment acting. A brutish thing to do. Switching off the brain to simply act. Thinking slowed you down. Rat couldn’t afford that. Not with less than a minute on his side.


Gazelle sprinted to the frontline with a gaggle of medics close behind her. She was quick. Quicker than most, in spite of her age. Running from one injured soldier to the other only added on to the trainings she took with Mantis when she had the time. She couldn’t be a hypocrite and advise people to exercise when she wasn’t doing that herself. She could be a hypocrite and warn about drug abuse while being hopelessly addicted herself.

“Damn it, Cow…” Gazelle slid into Cow’s cover while her team scattered across their part of the frontline. “Why do you do this to yourself?” She took a moment to look up at his face and then returned to examining his injuries. Without waiting for an answer from Cow, she continued. “No, you’re out.” She decided. She couldn’t let Cow keep fighting with such injuries. She knew he’d keep fighting until he was good and dead unless she pulled him out.

“Command, Cow is out of action. I’m evacuating him.” She reported, leaving her with a second problem - Cow was big. Perhaps not Cow himself but his armor. It was the same issue she had with Bear, Skunk, and Armadillo. Removing them from the frontline usually took several people. “Can you walk?” She held a hand on his shoulder. She knew the answer she would get. She just couldn’t guess what exactly the sarcastic bit would be. The question, though, was whether he should walk.

“Lion, how many injured do you have?” She spoke over the radio, looking at Lion who was close by.

“Two. One is fine, he can stay in the fight but the second one could use a hand.” Lion spoke back, motioning at one soldier whose armor had a clear bullet hole in his calf but was nonetheless peering out of cover to shoot. The other soldier was sitting with his back against the cover he was propped up against and holding his stomach.

Two was good. Two was something her team could handle while she used the rest to take Cow away from the frontline. “Burton, Combs, Henson.” She spoke to her team. “Help me take Cow back to the tent.” She ordered and looked at Cow, trying to make her hand on his shoulder as heavy as possible. “You’re not walking.”

 

[Mr_DC]

“Fucking finally!” Wolf cursed, seeing a tank coming closer to her position. It was a complete miracle they haven’t been killed yet. They ran out of bullets a while ago and their resupply was magazines thrown in their general direction from whoever was meant to support her team.
She lost could how many grenades they had to throw back and that was just tempting fate to strike them down. At least she wasn’t the one whose hand would get blown off if it went off a bit earlier than expected. Even Bear who was slightly too large for cover was showing signs of attrition - his bulky armor was scratched so much that it was gradually losing more and more of its paint. With the tank there, though, they could start fighting back. They finally had enough support.

Wolf heard a short whistle. Just short enough that her mind couldn’t react to it. That she couldn’t process what exactly she was supposed to do or what was happening. The whistle was followed by an explosion. It was powerful enough that it made Wolf footing unsure in her cover. Artillery was firing. “That was too fucking close, command!” She yelled back. If the morons firing the guns lead by a drunk moron giving orders changed their aim just slightly, she and her team would have been obliterated. “What the fuck is going on over there?!”
“Our artillery isn’t ready yet, Agent Wolf.” One of the commanders said. “Frontline units…” It continued, speaking in the channel everyone could hear. “Take cover and hold position. Enemy artillery is incoming.”
“Great…” Wolf grumbled and looked to her squad. They still were too far from the frontline. If they tried to sprint back, the enemy would grind them to dust. No, there would be no pulling back to find cover. She wouldn’t be holding position either. “Got enough ammo?” She looked across her squad as she heard another whistle of the shell incoming. That one landed slightly further off. Her squad nodded.
“Alright.” She brought up her weapon and looked around. They weren’t surrounded. The enemy pulled away in anticipation of the artillery. “We’re moving up.” She looked back at her squad.

Swan was staying close to Rat. They would soon be at the frontline. The fight was mostly from building to building but the right flank reached a stalemate. Both sides were holding positions on either end of an avenue. Both sides either took cover on the streets or in the buildings overlooking the avenue. The soldiers, though, already got their orders. Their guns were ready to open heavy fire across the street once Rat and Swan were spotted. After that, they would begin their advance in hopes of finishing the fight.


Some parts of Cow - the injured areas of his body, and the over-adrenalined area of his brain - were happy to see Gazelle. In a Pavlovian reaction, he saw in her pain relief and expertise. But the other part of him, the part of him that complained out loud that, “This is in my job description,” was depressed by her arrival. She wasn’t listening anyway. She was examining. The damaged armour of his right arm, beneath which pulsed ugly injuries. Left thigh too, somewhere.

He heard her say she was pulling him out and looked up at her. “Gazelle. Come on. I’ve hardly done anything. Gazelle. I have one hand. Gaz. Gazza. Come on. Gazza! Yes I can walk, I’m not a toddler.”

Didn’t matter. She made up her mind. He opened a comm with Mantis. “I gave you all I could, dyke. I’m out. Don’t die.” Those last two words, he hoped, might communicate to her he cared at least a bit.

When he looked back to Gazelle, he saw her other medics. He let out a dry laugh. “You planning on carrying me? Gazza. I remember Henson from training, he couldn’t carry a tune, how do you expect him to carry me? Tch. But do what you want. I’ll walk if you want me to walk. Or I’ll injure Henson if you want him to carry me.”


With the centre flank experiencing heavy artillery, Doe had to really concentrate. She felt more like a combat Beast as she moved from cover to cover to scope the situation, hearing orders being yelled from soldier to soldier all the while. Her combat pack made moving cumbersome, but she did what she had to: she ducked, she crawled, she rolled people into the recovery position and administered gentle words with her medication.

With the command of enemy artillery, Doe’s decision became evacuating the injured to cover. She adjusted herself, rolling her shoulders back, and clapped once, sharply.

“We’re minimising fatalities! Leave no one behind! Focus on your cover.”

She took cover herself.

“Wolf, your team good? If not, I’ll send up who I can spare,” she said in the aftermath. “I’ve got a fair few casualties back here. I’m taking no chances.”


Rat stole a glance at their finishing line. The right flank. Where a defense team was stationed. The human battering ram - the one who wasn’t Bear - stood in silhouette against the rubble. Stationed calmly, well prepared to retrieve Swan. Brute.

Who did he think he was fooling by standing out in the open?

Rat snarled away his ire. He just had to get Swan there, that was all. But this was the most difficult stretch of all.

Rat planned a route from his glance, one that Swan wouldn’t have a problem following. It was based off the most basic retreating strategy, which was just to never stop moving, but threw in some cover areas. It meant they would have to make a few awkward changes in trajectory, but it was the safest route. Especially considering fire from both sides.

“I’ll get us back. Stick close.”


Armadillo felt a hot shiver course down his spine when he saw Rat exit. The enemy was focused on the centre flank, where there would be much for the enemy to worry about. Even the left would be causing problems. The right was, at this point, in its own small cold war with the enemy.

Rat began moving almost immediately after he exited. Armadillo hated the way he moved: it was oleaginous, it was slick, it was as uncanny as a slow worm. Worse, Armadillo knew Rat was aiming for him. The turn of the stealth Beast’s head, visor tinting in the light towards Armadillo, told him that.

So Armadillo focused on Swan instead. Dressed for an office, not for this place. He raised his hand to his support, and they moved forward. Some moved through buildings on either side, ready to lay down fire after the two had passed. In Armadillo’s head, he was preparing the area for immediate safety: when Rat and Swan got into the area surrounded by his team, they would be in the home stretch.

Armadillo thought about opening comms to Rat, advising him to duck Swan into a building where the team were getting stationed, so they’d be out of fire. But he couldn’t bring himself to. The thought of that smooth voice pressing into his head in response repelled him. Instead, he raised his hand again, to gesture to the buildings on the left.



“You realize how much bad luck saying that is, don’t you?” Mantis spoke back to Cow. “I’ll haunt you if I die. I’ll make sure every cigarette you taste doesn’t feel right anymore.” She joked.
“Gazza?” Gazelle frowned, stumped for a moment before realizing what exactly he was saying. She shook her head and motioned at Cow to the medics. “Let’s go.” She said and lifted him with the rest. They just had to take him out of the line of fire. Then they could even think about using a stretcher.

“Artillery incoming!” Lion managed to shout and duck just in time for a shell to hit between his position and Mantis. It was the first of many. “Pull back, pull back!” He ordered and his squad began a tactical retreat, moving from cover to cover as quickly as they could. “Manny, take cover!” He yelled over the radio. Even though Mantis’ first reaction was a quip about the need to yell over the radio, she didn’t act on it. The first shell fell close enough to make her heart skip a beat. Things got serious.

Digging herself out of the pit of corpses she made, Mantis took a cautious look around as the ground trembled. She could feel the shockwaves in her chest. The enemy pulled back. They pulled back pretty far. Dirt swept her as another shell fell too close for comfort. It seemed as if the artillery was hitting right between her and the rest of One’s army. Remaining where she was wasn’t an option.
She ran. Mantis knew few people who could run as fast as she could but that didn’t help much against artillery rain. The shells weren’t aiming for her and she couldn’t outrun them. She could try to outrun the enemy gunfire. Running alongside the frontline only dared the enemy to shoot her.
Mantis couldn’t even hear the music in her helmet. The only thing she could hear is the blood whooshing in her ears, her rushed breaths, her thumping heart. She had no choice. Either turn and run through the artillery fire or keep running in front of the enemy and get shot. No choice.

Mantis made a sharp turn on her path and sprinted. The nearby shockwaves shook her, threw off her balance, and slowed her down but she didn’t have to run for long. She just had to make a few quick leaps. A short dash. She was almost out of the danger zone when she saw it. She saw it for just a moment. It seemed close enough to reach out and touch it. The falling shell. Mantis vanished in a dirt-raising explosion.


“If anyone in my squad dies, they don’t deserve to be in my squad!” Wolf spoke harshly, knowing her team was listening. “And if I get killed, I’ll be dead so the irony won’t bother me. Keep your medics safe, Doe. We got a job to do.” Wolf replied, motioning for her squad to move in spite of the artillery fire. They were living up to their name. From the enemy’s perspective, it must have seemed impossible - a group of soldiers in red walking out of a hail of artillery, guns blazing. Bear, however, must have been the most fearsome member of the group. The massive soldier carrying a massive minigun with bullets having no effect on him. They were going to break the enemy on their own or die trying.


Swan felt panic rising as they approached the enemy. They would be coming from behind so they’d get a few precious seconds of confusion before the enemy opens fire but it might not be enough. It was all just far too risky.
“Open fire.” The order came. The overwhelming firepower made Swan hesitate for a step before continuing after Rat. Their side was keeping an opening for them and the enemy was taking cover. It was their chance.


At the sound of the impacts, Cow cursed and twisted in the medics’ arms. He couldn’t survey the damage from his position heading away from it. Couldn’t tell how badly the street was hit. He turned back and slammed his good hand into Gazelle’s chest to get her attention.

“Gazza, how about you all put me down and go and do your jobs on the people who might be fucking blown up? I’ll survive what Lion’s team won’t.” He stared at her, lip curled in disbelief. He knew no one could do much against artillery fire, but having it wipe out Lion’s team was awful. All she needed to do was put him down and do her job. At this point, Cow wagered, he was the least of her problems. “Don’t let pulling me out cause others to die.”


Despite her surroundings, Doe smiled at Wolf’s spitting remarks. She didn’t reply to save Wolf the concentration, and instead snapped back into herself. With Wolf moving up, she would have time and space to do what she had to. She directed her team, cleared the areas of intact soldiers who advanced, in their own small way, to support Wolf’s team. They moved through buildings, leaving their fellow soldiers behind in Doe’s hands.

She knelt by one of them, got the report from a medic who was supporting the soldier’s head. Laceration as a result of debris from a shell on both legs. The soldier was stable, but in pain, and her armour was damaged to the point of shattering. Doe acted quickly, detaching the soldier’s leg coverings with a mixture of deft fingerwork and a knife. A medic handed her what she needed next, a sterile, iodine-and-alcohol soaked cloth. She brought the cloth to the soldier’s wounds applying pressure through the blood, accepting fresh cloths every couple of seconds. It wasn’t long before the soldier’s legs were stained from the iodine and Doe was applying temporary stitching and coverings.

“You’ll be out of action, so don’t move much.” Was all Doe said after she finished. There wasn’t time for white lies and comfort. She patted the soldier as she rose to go, but that was it. Then she was off again, bent-double against the oppression from the enemy, coming to a halt beside another wounded.


Rat pulled back: he couldn’t afford to be leading Swan now. They had to stick close, he had to keep an eye open for everything. The Director wanted her back, so he would have to take risks himself to minimise the risk of her casualty. He would have to temporarily join the ranks of Armadillo and Bear and Cow and put himself at risk for others. That wasn’t the position for someone of his intelligence, and he hated to risk his own brain, but if Swan was killed the futility of the situation would be horrendous. He’d have suffered for nothing.

“Course correction,” Rat said quietly. Where he wanted to go was being covered by their side, and he didn’t trust anyone of Armadillo’s side not to shoot him. He touched Swan’s elbow and took her to the right, towards the buildings.



Gazelle grimaced as if she was in pain. “Stop, stop.” She ordered the medics. It might have been rare but Cow was making perfect sense and she wasn’t like Wolf to force her own path. “Burton.” She looked at the medic. “Stabilize Cow the best you can. Call for the reserves to help you carry him back.” She looked over to where they were just moments ago. Artillery fire decimated the land. The radar in the top left corner of her visor slowly got populated by red dots. So many wounded… They weren’t expecting artillery.
She flinched when the alert came. A notification informing her a Beast is wounded, quickly followed by a visual dropdown of the actual state. Critical. “Manny…” Gazelle muttered and sprinted towards the fog of dust covering the battlefield. The artillery seemed to have slowed down. Perhaps even stopped. Either the enemy had to reload or they lost contact with their own command. The dust cloud could even serve as cover for her while she found Mantis. There was a weight on her chest, though. Like a fist around her heart, gradually tightening its grip as Gazelle came closer and closer. The system didn’t give her any details on what happened to Mantis. No details on the wounds. That usually happened when the system was fully destroyed. A last message from a failing suit of armor.



“Rat, Jesus, let’s just get out of here!” Swan yelled, feeling her panic slowly growing. They were close to their escape but they were just as close to death and Swan wasn’t wearing her armor. Not even a ballistics vest. Just a shirt, jeans, and sneakers. It was even a miracle she didn’t trip considering the amount of rubble scattered around the battlefield.
Swan knew Rat was clever. She knew he wouldn’t endanger her and he wasn’t just a mindless soldier like so many in the Program. In spite of her protest and obvious panic, Swan didn’t intend to split off on her own. She trusted her escort.



Wolf didn’t know the exact kill count of her squad but she was willing to bet they surpassed double digits in a matter of seconds. They caught the enemy out of cover, unprepared. They were spilling so much blood that the earth barely had time to drink it all. It was a good thing the armor was almost perfectly soundproof - they’d all be deaf already.
There was one thing that distracted her. It was what distracted almost everyone but most of all, their enemy. Everyone certainly felt it. The ground trembled as One returned fire with his own artillery. Concentrated at the enemy’s command center, the building wasn’t just ruined but was quickly turning into a massive crater.

Wolf stumbled back, almost falling down. It was always a shock when a bullet hits the armor. Depending on the caliber, it can sound like anything from light rain to a car crash. Wolf was in her own car crash. Her squad didn’t seem to notice the small explosion of shrapnel on her suit but the bullet left a significant dent in her chestplate. If she wore the regular trooper armor, she would have a fist-sized hole in her chest. “Sniper.” Wolf growled, thumping her chest, inviting another shot. “Show me what you got!” She yelled and kept shooting, forcing the enemy center to break even further.



There was no music. No gunfire. It seemed that the world stopped for a moment. Her vision was just brown, her eyes too dry to even blink. A groan managed to escape her lips as she came to. There was one thing she regretted the most in her life at that moment and it was the next breath she took. It was like someone was driving a bed of nails onto her. The groan turned into a pained howl. A shriek which started an unending tartarus for her. A vicious cycle she couldn’t escape - yelling in pain only to get choked up by blood rising up in her throat. Coughing only to cause more pain.
“Manny.” She heard a panicked voice. Mantis looked up at the figure in brown armor. “Ghrhhh…” She gurgled out.
Gazelle quickly looked over her. The armor was certainly destroyed but it served its purpose admirably. Shattered to pieces but not before slowing down most shrapnel. There was still a chance to save her, even though the little Beast looked like a pincushion. “Calm down, you’ll be fine.” She looked into her bloodshot, green eyes. The visor was nowhere to be seen, shattered, but it kept her alive. “I need assistance!” Gazelle yelled into her comms. “I need a stretcher and a medical team, now!” Opening her medical kit, she began working on helping Mantis the best she could.

A yell. Somewhere from the side. Somewhere from the enemy. From an enemy. Gazelle turned to see the barrel of a rifle pointed at her face. At that distance, it didn’t matter much what kind of a gun the enemy was using or whether the bullet was armor piercing or not. The visor wasn’t exactly bullet-proof. “Medic!” She yelled. “I’m a medic!” She managed to raise her gaze from the barrel and raise both hands in the air. The man had Wolf’s eyes. Vicious. Angry. He wanted her dead. He wanted her to suffer. His finger hugged the trigger. There was no reasoning with him. Few respected rules of war. Fewer losers cared.
Gazelle’s hand darted up to push the barrel of the gun away but before she could grab the gun, the man’s head exploded. He fell over like the strings holding him up were cut.
“Watch your surroundings.” The calm monotone of Panda came over her comms. “Bring her back. I’ll cover you.”


“Hopefully, only people I hate have been blown up. Like, every single recruit,” Cow muttered. Then he sighed. A low, tired kind of sigh. “I should’ve been covering now…” He said this more to himself than the medic. It was pointless to argue with them on the field. They did their job. So he sat, holding his right arm as steady as he could, aware of himself. The issue was the armour on his extremities wasn’t nearly as good as his body armour and helmet. And the reason for that was as simple as he wasn’t fit enough to carry it. His current armour already had adjustments to it: he had knee support built in to such an extent than when he was out of his armour his own weight exhausted him.

As he saw other medics coming up to act as his transport, he tilted his head. With the assault of pain on his system, his brain was being jolted out of spite. It wasn’t working quickly, but it was zeroing in efficiently when he had a thought. He felt each heartbeat rock his system, just like the bullets had rocked his body, and remembered what had happened only days ago. Agent Shark’s armour was… lighter than his, it had to have been. One had called it… what had he said… said it was extraordinary among all Beast armour. That’d solve the problem, Cow wagered. Lighter than his current armour, and hopefully just as protective if not more so. Then he’d be able to withstand much more assault.

His chest piece had taken a lot of damage. He had felt the impacts, knew he’d probably be bruised by a few of them given their force. But the torso had held up. It was similar to Armadillo’s, but more compact. However, where Armadillo’s arms were covered in heavy plates, overlapping tor extreme protection, Cow’s were less extreme. He didn’t have Armadillo’s strength.

“Hey, fella,” he looked at one of the medics, “Gazelle told me I’d be receiving pain medication, she said I’d be getting… what did she call it… uh… morphine! Morphine. Yeah, that’s what she said I’d get.”


“You’ll be fine. It’s my job.” That was all Rat said as he, in one fluid motion, turned to look at her, put out his hand and pushed her to his other side. The fire from both sides was whizzing past them, and Rat took a guess that the opposition wanted to stop the two of them, but were, at the same time, occupied with Armadillo’s forces in this flank, as well as the firepower from the centre.

They might make it to the buildings… or the opposition could pop them both in the dash.

“Down,” Rat said, pulling her to the side behind a barricade. It wouldn’t fend off much if the enemy’s fire was focused on it, but it gave them the highest probability to survive.

He’d also have to swallow his pride.

“Armadillo,” Rat said. “Move up, I need you to cover us. Now.”



The death gurgles Mantis was letting out made Gazelle’s skin crawl. She thought she was used to them by now but this was different. As much as she claimed she cared about everyone equally, she couldn’t deny to herself that she cared more about Mantis than a fresh recruit. Hearing someone she actually liked dying was testing her. “Ssssh, Manny.” Gazelle calmed her as she moved to immobilize the shrapnel in her body. She couldn’t take it out. Not until they got back to the camp. Mantis would have to endure the discomfort and pain for a while longer. “Don’t worry, dear…” Gazelle caressed Mantis’ face through the filthy concoction of blood and dirt. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She tried her best to soothe the girl and it seemed to have an effect as Mantis returned a nod and calmed down somewhat.


The medical team worked on Cow, ignoring his request for morphine. Every now and then, one of them would look up towards the battlefield before returning their attention to Cow. Their communications lit up when the artillery started and they weren’t dying down any time soon. Everyone needed help. There were more wounded than they expected when they run out. “Stabilized.” Burton, the young medic, said, looking at the two others. “Take him back to the tent.” He ordered. Even though there was no strict hierarchy among the medical team, especially with the fresh ones, conflicts rarely arose. Utmost trust prevailed among the team members. They all acted as almost a hive mind, not thinking about themselves but trying to accomplish a goal together.


The center was broken. The enemy line was broken and they were pulling back from cover to cover. Further back than they even needed. There were still some shots heading Wolf’s way but they were half-hearted and usually missing. “Job’s done, pull back.” She grinned, tapping Bear on the shoulder. “You hold position.” Although the enemy probably wouldn’t manage to organize enough to return now that they lost their leadership, she wanted to be certain that her effort wasn’t wasted.
As she began pulling back, she noticed that they didn’t carry out the assignment without a loss. One of her squad members - a brusque, loud soldier even by her standards - was lying on the ground. His visor was shattered and there was a bloody mess where his face used to be. “Come on.” She ordered when her squad paused by the body. At least none of the members she actually gave a damn about died. Though, she gave a damn about them exactly because they showed that they can survive the tempo she was enforcing.
With one last glance at the body, Wolf headed back as the troopers began securing the position. One will hear about that.They had a problem.


“Hey, Doe…” Lion spoke up, approaching the well-mannered medic. He gave his rifle to one of the soldiers he was leading not long before the fighting stopped and resorted to using his gun. He raised a hand, holding his wrist with the other. “Could you take a look at this when you’re free?” He motioned at his wrist as it dripped blood. “I’m not gonna die...” He chuckled. “It just feels pretty uncomfortable.” He wasn’t sure if it was a bullet or shrapnel from the artillery fire but it didn’t matter much to him. He was wounded and the pain was gradually becoming worse.

Glancing up from her bloodied hands and a soldier’s mangled elbow, Doe assessed Lion’s injury. For safety, she’d probably have to splint it, depending on bone damage, and steady it for healing. Tylenol for the pain, and a temporary cast.

For that last part, she ordered a medic to begin making one up, and another to bring Lion the pain relief.

“In a moment. If you’re requesting me, you’ll have to wait a moment. You’re in a queue. Not a long one, but you’re at the back of it. Sorry Lion, I don’t prioritise rank.” She was looking back to the soldier at this point. She was calm, her eyebrows relaxed and her tone gentle. The soldier didn’t need shushing, not with her emanating calm. The soldier sat, winced a few times, but the tylenol was taking effect. Doe had set his elbow and set up the sling, then patted his shoulder as she got up to move on.

Doe spent another few minutes on the next patients in her order. Lion was at the back of her mind the whole time. But she trusted her team to get him settled until she could see him.

She turned to him when his turn came, and began with requests to him. “Turn over your wrist, how does this feel, how does this feel?” and the rest. It was only when she got on with cleaning him up with an iodine cloth that she spoke to him outside of her occupation. “This could have gone worse I suppose… I did expect casualties like this, we are on the defence after all. I’m going to straighten your wrist so expect this to hurt.”


“Don’t worry.” Lion smiled when Doe told him her priorities. “I’m just a soldier.” He nodded and went to her team to get prepared. As they cautiously removed his armor, Lion looked around and the other injured soldiers. He preferred to think of himself that way. As a soldier. He never truly felt like a Beast. He was far from unique. Wasn’t a dead-eye like Panda or as energetic as Mantis. He wasn’t even good at commanding troops like Wolf but she probably earned her place in part due to her cold-bloodedness or loyalty. Lion was just a glorified soldier. Had no unique place on the field. He was just… There.
That was the way he liked it. He didn’t want to stand out as much as the rest of them did. He didn’t want to be treated like a God among men. The less special his assignment, the more he could do. The more he could help other troopers.

When Doe finally took him under her care, Lion relaxed. He had nothing against Gazelle and there was no questioning her position. She was a great doctor. Possibly without a rival. But Doe always seemed less stressed. Like he wasn’t a burden. Gazelle never said anything along those lines but the way she rushed always put him on edge. Like it was up to him as well to be done as soon as possible and send her on her way to helping others.

“It can always be worse.” He looked around. “But we’ll manage.” When Doe began working on his, he held through the pain. “Wish I could say I wasn’t used to it. Feels like I get shot more often than I don’t.” He sighed. “Surprised you and Gazelle don’t have enough of me yet.” He gave Doe a friendly smile, hoping to get one back. “Too bad it gives Wolf so much material to tease about.” In truth, he didn’t mind it that much. It was just who Wolf was and she didn’t get too bad with him. Definitely not as bad as she was with Mantis.

“What happened to you?” Lion spoke in shock when he saw Wolf and her team approach with one missing member. He stared, mouth agape, at the crater in Wolf’s chest. “Are you alright?” He was about to stand up but remembered Doe was still trying to help him.
“Sniper.” Wolf said calmly, pushing her chest out and touching the hole. “Didn’t get through the armor. Should have aimed for the head.” She looked down at Lion and frowned. “What about you? Got another boo boo?”
“How thick is the armor…” Lion shook his head, ignoring her comment. The Beasts truly had luck. That was what made them special. So many soldiers died on the field and yet they marched on from battle to battle without slowing down.

“Perhaps I’ll ask Gazelle about loyalty cards for the rest of you, whoever’s injured most at the end of the year gets a prize.” She began to gauze up his wrist, ready for the stiff bandages to hold his wrist in place. She heard Lion question someone and paused to glance up briefly. When she saw the state of Wolf she couldn’t help but widen her eyes, but at Wolf’s confirmation that she was fine, felt the tension on her chest fall away and she went back to securing Lion’s wrist.

“I’ll have a look at it back at base to determine a few things, but for now just keep it out of action. How’s it hurting you?” she asked Lion. “And be honest. Wolf, don’t go anywhere.”


“I’m fine.” Wolf shrugged. She couldn’t get heated about it. About anything. She might have been fine but her armor wasn’t. It bulged inwards from the damage and, at best, poked at her chest if she took a deep breath or, at worst, cracked a rib. “Besides, we have to regroup back at camp.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “The enemy is routed. The day is won. Our job is done.” Wolf ignored the good doctor’s request and headed back towards camp, her pack of thugs following close behind.

Lion decided to be patient before answering and wait for Wolf to leave. He didn’t want to give her a reason to mock him. “It’s fine…” He paused. “Hurts a bit.” He shrugged and stood up. “I should rejoin the rest of the Beasts… Don’t know what your orders are but perhaps you should come as well. See when we’re getting extracted.”

If Wolf had walked away while back at headquarters, Doe would have pursed her lip and scowled. But she was free from those over-bright lights, and was beneath a lazy sky. So she let Wolf go. If the woman said she was fine, then she had effectively discharged herself. She could walk. The armour was a bust, and considering how many soldiers she’d seen in just these minutes, she smiled pitifully at the thought of the engineers. They’d have some specific armours to recreate.

“I think I ought to come with you, but I think I’m needed here. I can’t come with you in good faith. As long as I get the orders through, or information about the extraction, I’ll be there. ‘Til then… you go ahead. And thanks for being a good patient.” She offered Lion a smile, a nod, and turned to vanish into the dust of necessity.


When Armadillo got the comms from Rat, his first thought was that Rat’s position was worse than he had anticipated. There was a clear run Rat could make with Swan, cleared out for the very purpose. Plus, with fire power being focused elsewhere, it was the best time to go. There was nothing at all stopping the two of them that Armadillo could see.

“Copied. I’m on my way.”

Armadillo couldn’t just leave the guy. Rat made it difficult to want to save him, or even offer some help, but Armadillo had orders, had the ability, and had what he always supposed Rat didn’t: a conscience.

Armadillo didn’t take any sidelines or even stick close to much cover. His eye took in cover spots constantly, but never did he aim to duck behind one. He slogged on, his heavy shelling marching with him. The assault was minimal now and easily anticipated. Either side, Armadillo’s team prepared to cover again as the Beast told them, “I’m needed for assistance. Be on your guard.”

Rat had chosen a fairly good cover. Sturdy and out of the way. Armadillo felt the other Beast’s eyes on him as he approached, taking the far side of the barricade. “Where do you need me?”

“I need you to move with us. Any targeted shot on us is too much of a risk. I’ll be moving down the east wall, and I’m not risking fire from above. I need you to move with us, we’ll work with your pace.”

It was a professional message, and as soon as Rat was finished, he gave Swan a nod and used Armadillo’s position as a prominent figure in the open to begin dashing towards the cover spots along the east wall. Armadillo could only trust Rat’s decision and moved after them, raising his rifle to act as an aggressor. At some points he ended up walking backwards or stopping moving at all to respond in kind to a shot at him. Rat and Swan were able to outrun and out-maneuver a lot, but there they were, waiting for him to get to them before they would not and sprint to the next cover.

Armadillo’s eye was on Swan every time he saw the pair: he was a cliff face in comparison to her, and that was perhaps what Rat was concerned about. No risk.

Apart from that first communication, Rat didn’t try to contact Armadillo again, nor did Armadillo speak during their progress. They were reluctantly having to fight on the same side, neither of them pleased about the other’s presence, and each one hoping not to hear the other’s voice, but co-operate they did. Armadillo moved, and Rat anticipated. Swan was kept against cover or next to walls constantly, Rat using the time while Armadillo was moving to take the street’s warground into perspective. His plans changed constantly, and showed his distrust in these alterations by improving his pace. He didn’t let his guard drop, even when he was in the safe zone, surrounded by Armadillo’s team and other supporting soldiers. He kept looking, kept calculating, and kept watching Armadillo.


Swan clenched her teeth as she obediently followed Rat around the battlefield, hoping he knew what he was doing. It seemed that most of the missions she was sent on didn’t go as planned. At least the parts where she was meant to be out of danger. Somehow, she was regularly caught in the line of fire and she was tired of it. “Fuck.” She cursed, looking around. Armadillo was close. Close enough. “Fuck this!” She yelled and sprinted for Armadillo, hoping the enemies would figure that the unarmed, unarmored person wouldn’t be an important target.

The agitation was getting too much, well, it had got too much. Rat heard Swan curse, curse again, then in an instant she was up. His instinct was to reach out and grab her, but if he did he might knock her down. Then her probability of survival would drop.

Stupid woman.

He opened comms to Armadillo. “Swan’s running towards you, don’t react until you’re clear. Shield her. I’ll secure a safe zone.”

She made her choice.

Rat left cover and sprinted in the shadows, aiming exactly where he’d planned to with Swan. It was one of the buildings on the east, secured with Armadillo’s soldiers, and, if done efficiently enough, he could simultaneously give the word to evacuate backline soldiers and let the frontline ones raise their weapons to kill. Rat didn’t want to give that command, didn’t want to give the command to kill, but he couldn’t have Swan die in his care, even if she’d chosen to leave it.

“Copy?” Armadillo said in his ear, a shred of confusion obvious in his tone. Rat wasn’t about to explain.

“Shield her, bring her to the building I mentioned. Don’t be fast, be careful.”


Swan kept her sprint towards Armadillo even though she heard bullets whiz past her. They weren’t meant for her, it seemed. If they were, she wouldn’t still be alive. But Armadillo was close. The living shield. Like Bear but… Defensive. Not as frightening. When she finally reached him, Swan slid behind him and tapped on his back. “Get me out of here!” She yelled.

With his helmet and the fact she didn’t have any comms equipment, Armadillo could only turn and nod to her. If not for Rat’s warning, he would have only heard a slight noise when she arrived. Why she’d decided to break cover at this stage wasn’t a question for now. Instead, he turned, showing the enemy his plated back, and looked to where Rat was talking about. It would be slow progress over there, but likely faster than before.

He lowered his rifle, positioned himself over her and began moving. She would be encased in a figurative bubble of plating, an impenetrable hide that served only as percussion from the bullets and shrapnel hitting it. His hands were either side of her, one carrying the rifle and one spread as a support mechanism in case she was hit. He would pick her up and carry her. It wouldn’t weight him down, not with the armour. But it was more dangerous: carrying her would expand his kinosphere.

Rat kept everything he wanted to say to her in his head. The sentences coiled on his tongue like snakes, eager to lash out, but he contained them. She had to have a reason. She was intelligent. She wasn’t just an idiotic panicking trooper, or a behemoth who thought they were invincible, she had a brain in her head. He watched from his position by a smashed window, waiting there to assist her in. From this building, there was complete cover. They just had to move through it for a time and they’d be home free. She could stop panicking, and she could give him answers.


Swan was escorted to the building Rat was hiding in and she quickly took cover. A frown decorated her quick, young features. “One’s gonna hear me. This is not what I agreed upon.” She grumbled, waiting in cover. As much as she felt like a child, she was certain she was justified. One broke their agreement and he couldn’t force her to do as he says just because she was learning from him. She was pulling her weight. She was an infiltrator no one could replace. Not Rat, not Shark, not Mantis. Neither of them had her silver tongue.

“Armadillo.” One’s voice came from the comms. “What’s the situation? The fighting was supposed to be over. Where did things get complicated?” As much as he was trying to sound calm to avoid putting pressure on his soldiers, One’s annoyance still seeped through. The enemy command was dead, most of the army was gone and yet a single flank held on. His troops weren’t as efficient as he had expected.

When Rat saw her again, he stared from under his visor. She was complaining, but he couldn’t understand why. He was her escort out of that place, and he kept her alive. He kept her out of the line of fire, traded time for safety. If the Director was going to hear from her, he wouldn’t let her side be the only side that was vocalised.

“Swan’s escort took priority,” Armadillo said. “Rat has issued the command to clear up this flank, we’ll be done in no time. He couldn’t let Swan be at risk, and nor could I. No complications, sir.”


One replied quickly, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Break the enemy and leave the soldiers to secure the area. After that, return to the camp. Your work is almost done.” He replied.

“Yes, I’ll have it done. I’ll send Rat on with Swan.”

By the way Rat was still in the room, and by the lack of any personal nervous energy, Armadillo could only theorise that Rat’s ire was targeting Swan. But he walked up to Rat regardless, opening his visor to speak to them both in person.

“Orders are to break the enemy and return to camp. You two go on ahead to the extraction point, I’ll handle this flank as fast as I can.”

Rat stood immediately. “You’ll be most efficient if you take out their support first. I noticed the only real threat was coming from the surrounding support, not the main threat at the centre. I’ll take her. Faster this time.” He said this last sentence with his usual indifference, but Armadillo knew him well enough to realise his feelings on Swan at the moment. But Rat wasn’t about to take his anger out on her. He didn’t do that.

Armadillo knew that for certain.

So Armadillo nodded at both Beasts before moving off. He informed the soldiers what Rat had said, to take out the support before targeting the main heart. Fast, hard and efficient.

He shuddered to think he was working like Rat.


Rat knew Swan would follow him, so didn’t bother talking to her. He moved through the building, exiting out of a door. Clean run the rest of the way. Still, his eye was active. He still had his orders.


One was standing in front of a fleet of air transports. The Beasts were usually carried by small VTOL jets but they were extended to the rest of the army when runways weren’t available. Panda was by his side, motioning her hands at the air, examining things only she could see through the display on her visor. With no one knowing what exactly she was doing, Panda was quietly satisfied. It was a middle finger to One that only she was aware of. Actively trying to find out what he was hiding from everyone while standing only feet away made her feel like more than a match to him. She was even on the right track.

With the crew of the ship carefully questioned, she had a rough idea where to aim next: The sailors were all wearing winter gear and, while their exact location was kept a secret even to them, it was almost certain that they went far to the north and passed near the frozen sea, stopping only to get fuel and supplies from another Epsilon Corporation ship. That was what she needed. The refueling ships weren’t clearance level locked and only a handful of the massive fleet were actually under the legal radar. What bothered her, though, was that not only did no ship come close to the north but there was also no need for it. She would have to find a different angle.

Most other Beasts gathered as well. Lion stood close to Panda, not wanting to be too close to Wolf and her gang. Gazelle and Mantis were nowhere to be seen, likely improvising surgery in one of the jets. Wolf wasn’t taking her eyes off One, her arms crossed on her chest. The rest of her squad spoke among each other but keeping their tone low to avoid bothering their leader.



After bringing Swan to the group, Rat made sure to stand a bit away from her. But he kept his eyes on her. The last thing he wanted to see her do was scurry up to the Director and report to him, but at the same time he expected it. What else would she do? So eager to get away from the place, she had abandoned the person stationed to keep her safe. The one person in the Program - Rat told himself - who actually knew what safety was.

Look at them all, he thought, glancing round. Some looked like they were thinking, or trying to think. Wolf, for example. Staring silently ahead. She didn't know what thinking was. She was a megaphone given sentience. That was all.

And what was he supposed to think of Swan now? She could join Wolf's ranks.

The back of his mind was disappointed. Swan was one of the Beasts Rat had admired: with her humble ability to learn, but noble grounds to secure a position beside the Director, she was in a superior position to him. Their skillsets were similar, except Rat avoided interaction where possible. She revelled in it, she worked in it. Rat knew how to twist someone, to manipulate them, to smile without really smiling, to interrogate, to persuade, to lie, lie, lie again. He knew how to do all those things. He had to.

But Swan was a better fit.

His own place was infiltration. Which is what he'd done. And she complained about it, abandoned him, showed him she didn't know how to think either.

He was disappointed.

About ten minutes after Lion got to the scene, Doe joined him. She was wiping herself down still while trotting along at pace, her eyes scanning the Beasts and soldiers around.

She fell in line next to Lion. "Got my duties finished," she said. "I couldn't get Wolf out of my head, I really need to check her out. If she took a sniper shot to the chest, her sternum could be damaged... and even if it's not, she is going to be bruised, and badly." She smiled at Lion, somewhat weakly. "Don't think she realises that just because you have all your limbs doesn't mean you're well. Then again... a lot of these lot don't realise that..." Her eye went involuntarily to Bear, the closest juggernaut in the vicinity.

She also looked around for Gazelle, but couldn't find her to pick her out. Doe considered sending her a comm, but decided against it. If Gazelle hadn't given her an update, it meant one of two things: either, things were peaceful - which was unlikely with the flank she was in - or things were worse than anticipated. And if things were worse, Doe would only be a detriment by contacting her.

If Gazelle needed her, she'd ask.

It made Doe nervous nonetheless. It always did. Who might Gazelle be working on saving, or what triage technique might she be executing? Doe knew she could help, knew she would always be as useful as possible, but she also understood that a medic needed his space.

Most medics knew Doe needed her space when she was back at headquarters.

Doe wrung the cloth about her hands as she considered the silence from Gazelle. She would hear what the Director had to say. Then she'd contact Gazelle.


“You know she’s not gonna show any weakness around other Beasts.” Lion smiled at Doe. “Especially not around her squad.” He brought his voice to a whisper while carefully studying Wolf’s group. “Wouldn’t put it past them to compete for her replacement…” He added. It was them that scared him more than Wolf. She knew the rules and not only followed most of them but enforced them as well. Her squad, though, did only as they were told by Wolf and were most dangerous when they acted on their own.

“Tell me what you saw.” One ordered. That meant one thing and it made Lion hesitate. They were meant to see something. Meant to notice something. Something he didn’t. He could only hope everyone else didn’t notice anything special. That they wouldn’t be that much more perceptive than he was. That would not be the case.
“They hired mercenaries.” Wolf spoke calmly, avoiding the stabbing in her chest. “We weren’t told but there were mercenaries among them. Parts of the line that didn’t crack. I saw the calm in their eyes when the soldiers started retreating.”
“They had good weapons.” Panda chimed in, looking over her shoulder at no one in particular. “Same uniforms but the weapons were the same.”
Wolf tapped her damaged chestpiece. “I can testify.”

Lion almost jumped out of his skin when a figure appeared by him. Shark was silent in spite of the dirt she was walking on. It was almost like she appeared out of thin air. But it was only him that got startled - the Beasts who saw her coming didn’t react. Shark was almost a sickening sight. Her black armor was simply filthy but not from the dust like the rest of them. It was… Muddy. Lion knew what that mud was and it sickened him. He had seen it too many times. Seeing the result of blood mixing with dirt wasn’t something he could forget.
Then it hit him. There was something he noticed as well. “The artillery.” He began, all eyes on him. “Their artillery. It fired after we took out the command. I saw our fire come down on their command center and then we were hit. Either they got the command way earlier or the artillery wasn’t theirs.” One seemed satisfied with that comment. Everyone had as no one told him how stupid he was.

Another person joined the group. Exited a nearby jet and walked up to One’s side. Gazelle’s face was smeared with blood and gloved hands absolutely covered. Her eyes and posture spoke volumes about how absolutely exhausted she was.
One looked at her and that was her cue. “She’s fine.” Gazelle took a deep breath. “Finally stable. But we need to get back to the base so she can get proper treatment.” She explained even thought she was certain that One already knew all that. He had to have known that Gazelle wouldn’t walk out if Mantis wasn’t stable. That she would never stop trying, even if the reaper was already standing over her. He had to have known that they had to get back to the base.
Gazelle looked over the group. Her eyes landed on her partner, Doe. Another rough day in the field. At least Doe was taking being out much better than Gazelle had. Running around or being in the sun only made Gazelle worry about someone taking a shot at her. She would have gladly resigned to being just a doctor in the base but she couldn’t. She was needed.

When Gazelle showed herself, Doe felt as though she were trapped in a room with the walls closing in… and in… and in. What had happened? She couldn’t even think to respond to Lion, her mouth was so dry. Her pulse was beating in her ears, in the tips of her fingers. Before she knew it, she was moving towards the Director and Gazelle. She moved around the Beasts, slaloming between them, intense blue eyes bright with worry.

Gazelle’s name fell from her lips in a hushed whisper.


So that was why Armadillo’s flank was so vicious. Rat knew something was wrong. Mercenaries made sense. He began to wonder if there were mercenaries in the building. There likely were, and Shark likely slaughtered them.

Rat stole a glance at her. He wondered what she’d seen. If there was a way to attach a camera to her head, he would do it. To see what she had done. To see how she’d ended up that way. Did she stay in the building while artillery hit? Or did she wade through the death she’d caused?


Gazelle placed a hand gently on Doe’s back. She appreciated her partner beyond words. Gazelle had little hope of staying in one piece without her. “It’s Mantis.” She replied as quietly as Doe prompted her. “Mantis and Cow.”

“Tell me after this,” Doe said, firm words but wrapped in a gentle heart. “And I’ll be right there to help. But if you’re here, I suppose I have the comfort that they’re stable…”

“Thank you for your input.” One said after a long pause. “For confirming my suspicions. Get in the transports and I’ll see you back at base.” He added but held his position for a few moments longer. Some Beasts knew about the rules between mercenary groups, some didn’t. Wolf, who was aiming to be One’s successor, knew full well what the situation they found themselves in meant. Someone broke the rules. Someone didn’t announce their activities in the area. Someone actively tried to take out the Beasts. While the rules weren’t official, One used his power to enforce them. It didn’t take long before he became the de facto leader of the mercenary world. Refusing to follow his rules, though… Meant someone was standing up to him.

 

[0stinato]

Rat was in two minds. Beyond the walls of the VTOL was pure air, the ability to fall and complete lack of control. But in here he was crushed between the shoulders of larger Beasts - most Beasts were larger than him, so it wasn't a surprise - with no place to escape to. If there was an oncoming artillery strike aimed at them in the air...

That was paranoia. It didn't bear thinking about.

But Rat still wasn't sure which was worse. Complete openness or the crush of people. Both were equally threatening. But at least in the open air he wouldn't have to look at everyone opposite him. There were quite a few brutish individuals sitting there, but Rat wasn't sure what to make of them anymore. He thought of Swan in a certain light, but today's events had shattered it. He had been wrong about her. Perhaps he was wrong about some of the others.

Armadillo. He wasn't thick, Rat knew that. Their previous exchanges, outside of the Program, had Rat certain that Armadillo was intelligent. Sharp-witted, tactical. But his docile exterior let so many wrong impressions slide. It was why Rat had targeted him in the first place. He'd aimed for what he thought was a weak spot in that politician's armour, only for it to be one of the hardest, best-defended areas because Villem Doncaster was standing in the way. He had been wrong about Doncaster.

Rat had tried to blackmail Doncaster. That was a difficult feat in itself, since Doncaster had done very little to be classified as wrong in his life. But there were some things. Rat went to the right people. He worked to twist the fragments of dirt he found into a smearing mess, and when it came for Doncaster to give up, he stood resolutely and declared he would rather see his own name slandered than harm come to his employer. That taught Rat a lot. He had wondered if that would be the outcome. But he hadn't prepared. Doncaster had served him a shot he couldn't counter, and he wasn't prepared to make the risk.

The job was dead after that, and Rat abandoned it quickly.

But that was it. Rat had been wrong. Wrong about Doncaster - about Armadillo - and now he was wrong about Swan. He must be wrong about others too.

He sat, he thought.

He was in the habit of calling any heavy Beast a brute. Wolf. Bear. Cow. Armadillo, perhaps. Armadillo was walking proof that brutes weren't stupid. Some were, of course. Rat could never call Bear a savant. But what about the other two? Wolf was tactically capable. She showed that with her squad. She had to lead them, and make decisions that other people would follow. She had to keep them in line, and she inspired some strange loyalty in certain people. Was that enough to be clever? It was certainly skill. A skill she was good at. He shouldn't underestimate that.

Rat had heard the atrocities. He knew what Wolf might order her team to do under certain conditions. He decided to keep that in mind. He had to be wary. She was a threat he shouldn't be turning away from. She couldn't hold a candle to his intellect, but she didn't need to: she had skill in areas he didn't. That was the difference.

Arguably, Cow had the same thing. But he led not by inspiring loyalty but by exploiting the soldiers' necessities. They had to learn. They couldn't not listen to him. But his techniques were effective, Rat admitted. But this was the crux: Cow used techniques, but Rat would gladly bet he didn't recognise he was using them. Did that make him stupid? Or did it showcase some talent? It was a thin line; Rat knew which one he had thought before this mission. But now he wasn't so sure.

It was all because of Swan.

Armadillo wasn't on this carrier. He had stayed behind with the soldiers in the other flank, and Rat had lost him.

After hesitating just for a moment, Rat opened comms with him. "Armadillo," he said, speaking in his usual quiet tone, "it's Rat. I'm not sure if you heard. The reason your flank held on so well is because they had mercenaries hired that the Director didn't know about."

Like before, with the first time Rat had spoken to him, Armadillo didn't reply immediately. Rat was sat for at least ten seconds before he heard the accented voice in his ear. "I heard. Thank you," was all he said.

Rat wasn't about to leave it like that. "That means, Swan's actions were even more dangerous. I was justified in the precautions I was taking. I hope she did not distract you when she broke cover. She certainly distracted me."

"... It was dangerous. I wasn't distracted because you warned me."

The information-fishing was going poorly. Rat wanted to know more than that. He wanted to know Armadillo's opinion. But the man was so closed off to him, so defensive even in his speech, that Rat was beginning to see the attempt at contact as a waste of time.

"I am thankful that you came to our aid when I asked," Rat said.

"... It's my job. You are welcome."

Yeah. It was fruitless. All Rat had was Armadillo's confirmation. It was dangerous. That would have to do.

Rat leaned back a fraction, but otherwise retained his statuesque stillness, and began, once again, to wonder if being inside or outside the carrier was worse.

 

[Mr_DC]

One walked into the ward with Shark in tow. He seemed to be relatively relaxed, not even being escorted by his usual guards. Shark, on the other hand, seemed about as relaxed as she usually was. "Mantis." One looked at the bed by the door where the wounded Beast was recovering. Her normally styled green hair lacked life but her eyes were as energetic as ever.
"Sir!" She straightened as much as she could in the bed and saluted. Getting a confused frown from One, she winced. "I better get a bonus for this..." She relaxed, holding a hand on her stomach. "It hurt." She faked a pained expression, getting a chuckle from both Gazelle and One.
"Gazelle, Shark is here to see you." One motioned at Shark and Gazelle gave her a friendly - if tired - smile.
"In a moment." She motioned for Shark to wait nearby to which the Beast complied. Her obedience both made Gazelle calm and utterly terrified. She was almost a weapon of mass destruction in human form and seeing her so calm and easy to bend... It wasn't right.
One watched Mantis who seemed to squirm under his gaze. After an uncomfortably long amount of time, One placed a hand on Mantis'. "I'm sorry." He finally said.
Mantis cocked an eyebrow. "Eh?" She asked, giving him a suspicious stare.
"We didn't know the enemy would have artillery. That... They'd use it after our strike on their command. I didn't expect it." One bowed his head and Mantis gave him a genuinely amused smile.
"Don't worry, boss." She waved his apology off. "I know you wouldn't knowingly allow me to be hurt. But..." She got serious and raised a finger. "Gazelle didn't let me have ice cream. I demand ice cream. Pistachio."
"Just... Because it's green?" One questioned her choice.
"Yup." Mantis winked, getting another chuckle out of One and an amused eye-roll from Gazelle.

Through a short laugh, Gazelle walked over to Shark. "Let's get you checked out. We'll discuss the ice cream later, Manny." She wanted to place her hand on Shark's arm and lead her to her office but every fiber of her being screamed not to touch her. Even though she knew Shark wouldn't react, physical contact with the woman only seemed dangerous.
As the pair exited the room, another person entered. It was a young woman, one of the new troopers. While One couldn't tell much more about her, Mantis could. After all, she was one of her trainees. Freshly ripped away from Cow's hooves. "Oh." She froze in place when she saw One. She quickly followed with a salute. "I apologize, I didn't know I was interrupting."
"Nah, you ain't." Mantis smiled. "I was just bargaining for ice cream. Wasn't doing that well, to be honest." The soldier in pale green fatigues stifled a laugh to that.
One nodded, allowing the girl to relax. "It's fine. I need to go see Cow about something anyway." One clasped his hands behind his back and sighed. "Then a few more meetings... Do bring me some ice cream if you get your hands on it." He flashed a quick smile at Mantis before leaving the pair alone.

"So, uh..." Mantis straightened herself in the bed and then attempted to fix her hair to the best of her ability. She wasn't a fan of interacting with her trainees one-to-one as there was only so much she could do to keep them laughing but that wasn't the reason her heart began to race once the two were alone. Everything from her very short, blonde hair and toned body to her lush lips and exotic, mixed-race facial features made Mantis simply flushed around the girl. "Jay, right?" Mantis asked, knowing her name well already. "What's up? Was someone running with scissors again?" She joked. "I told them so many times that knives are simply safer..."
Jay laughed. It was such an innocent laugh that Mantis found irresistible. A laugh which made her want to grab the girl and ravish her. "No, no." Jay walked up to her bed. "I just... Wanted to see how you're doing. If you're feeling better. The trainings aren't the same without you."
In spite of feeling thrilled, Mantis faked a frown. "So, what the hell are the rest of my idiots doing? Why aren't they checking up on me?"
Jay shrugged. "To be fair to them, they're probably still hung-over from last night. You'd be proud of them." She smiled and Mantis simply melted. The way she looked, it was lucky Gazelle wasn't in the room. The medic would probably assume a dangerous fever was at work.
"Lightweights." Mantis commented. "Thank you for visiting. You-uh... Wanna... You know, keep me company?" She shrugged, her green eyes darting around. "It just gets really boring here sometimes and there's only so much I can do to annoy the other patients."
Jay placed her hands on the covers. Right on Mantis' hand. "Yeah... I'd like that."

 

[0stinato]

After a few of her duties were done amongst the other patients in the waiting room, Doe returned to check on Mantis. She was supposed to be on a rota with Gazelle, so that Mantis could get some rest and heal, and so the two medics could focus on other responsibilities without worrying about Mantis' well-being. Doe did stick to the rota. She left Mantis alone for the most part. But her route around the ward had become substantially tainted by a detour that took her past Mantis' room. Every fifth pass, she'd stick her head in, smile and ask, "Still alive eh?" She hoped it was funny.

She had passed by an hour ago, but saw the Director in the room when she passed. She decided not to look in. He wasn't someone she liked to interrupt if she didn't have to. Unless he was directly standing in the way of one of her patients, she would do as he said, and do as she assumed she should.

So she walked past at that point.

But when she walked past this time, there was no Director. She decided to take the opportunity.

She pushed the door open with her elbow, as her hands were occupied with paperwork, and smiled at Mantis, "Need anything?"

"Oi."

Doe swung round, recognising the voice. She was being stared full in the face by Cow, who snorted when she raised her eyebrows at him.

"S'cuse me, please," he said. "I'm visiting Mantis. I won't be long."

"Oh, I see. Not coming back to rest yourself then?"

"No, I'm fine."

Doe nodded, sighing at him. "Well, just take care. I'm keeping an eye on you."

"I will try not to shoot myself, slit my wrists, or generally attempt suicide in any way shape or form," Cow said, expressionless. "For a day at least. Can I go in?"

Doe shrugged and moved out of his way, holding the door for him with the same elbow. He thanked her as he went in, and Doe noticed he had something in his hand, which was behind his back. For a moment, she couldn't work out what it was, and when she did work it out, she didn't know why he was bringing it to Mantis. But then her scowl turned into realisation, and she decided not to leave just yet. So she slunk into the room, placing the pile of files on a chair while she kept an eye on the situation.

At first, Cow was docile. "I'm glad to see you're doing better," he said. "I didn't quite believe what had happened to you when I heard. I couldn't believe that I'd stood up there, drawing all the shots and covering you, only for you to run in and get blown up. I couldn't believe you'd do that to me." He shook his head. "I'm kidding. I was worried. Really. I was going to say, before I forget, I'll set some of my trainers on your squad if you want, or I can run training for them myself if it's not..." he glanced slightly at Doe, "too strenuous... because this one doesn't think I can do complicated shit in my 'current state.'"

He sighed, mostly aiming it at Doe, but she just smiled. He was making these comments constantly while on the ward, but it didn't detract from the fact he was actually listening to her, Gazelle and the other medics... for a while anyway. It wasn't even half a week before he was crutching himself out of the ward to return to the barracks.

"I am glad you're doing better. I brought you something. Little gift."

From behind his back, Cow produced a small, pinkish-white object, and threw it quite hard onto Mantis' covers.

"A shell, because apparently you can't stay away from them," he said. "You're welcome."



Mr_DC

 

[Viper Actual]

There was a loud mechanical screech to be heard as the large blast doors leading into the VTOL hangar slowly opened. A cluster of flashing red lights alerted anyone in the vicinity that an aircraft was about to land. Gently a sleek and heavily-modified VTOL-craft descended towards the hangar floor. Unlike other VTOLs used by the Beasts this one in particular was very stealth-oriented and had been the personal project of Magpie, a Beast who enjoyed finding new solutions to problems.

As the VTOL neared its final destination a set of wheels deployed underneath right before the craft touched down. In an instant the jet-powered engines on both wings powered down with a muffled whirr and soon enough one of the side doors opened up. Once his boots had made contact with the solid flooring beneath him Minotaur looked around, always vigilant. Though the hangar technicians hardly posed a threat old habits sure died hard.

Up next was Tigris who, with the help of Griffin, pulled out what appeared to be a black body-bag. By the look if things there was someone inside. She nodded towards Griffin and the two of them let go of the bag, causing a meaty thump as the bag collided with the metal floor. While Minotaur pulled out a datapad Tigris oversaw the offloading of the VTOL. Not many words were spoken. The previous mission had been a rough one and halfway home they had learned about the main Beast force carrying out an even more difficult one. As much as they had all wanted to help out their hands been tied- orders were orders.

One by one the team disembarked. Cerberus and Manticore were offloading some spare ammunition crates that hadn't been used up during the op while Fenrir, Pegasus and Satyr dumped the team's personal bags in a neat pile to the side of the VTOL. Once a team of hangar techs arrived Condor could sign the post-flight report and ditch her helmet. With the exception of Condor, who wore a black flight suit, the entire team could be mistaken for a bunch of mercenaries. All of them had their Beast armors packed down into their bags and instead wore plain clothing with plate carriers on top. Some wore balaclavas while others wore simple baseball caps.

For Fireteam Myth this was more or less the standard modus operandi. Wetwork for longer durations. This mission had taken two weeks and three days to pull off. That meant blending in with locals. Gathering intelligence. Staying under the radar.

Minotaur rolled up his balaclava. "Listen up," he said with a neutral tone. The team formed a semi-circle around him while the hangar techs started to go over the VTOL.

"Great work out there. I know we all wanted to bug out and help the others but in the end we pulled off our own mission in flying colors. We got out target-" Minotaur kicked the body-bag which responded with a muffled shriek "-and our exfil was clean. Our priority now is to get some rest. Go get some chow if you need to but after that I only want to see you focus on recovery. One might need us soon again."

He pointed towards Condor. "Once you can I want you to finish that post-flight report and send it to Magpie for evaluation. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that the seventh and eighth flight went off without a hitch." Minotaur then gestured towards Griffin and Cerberus. "Make sure that our ammo gets locked in. Squad weapons too." Finally he looked at Satyr, Fenrir, Pegasus and Manticore. "You four are in charge of our belongings. Just pile them up inside our room so we can collect them later. Tigris and I will handle the target and, once we're done, we'll head for the quarters. By that time I expect all of you to be clean and fast asleep. Questions?"

The team shook their heads and the body-bag shrieked again. Minotaur nodded. "Good. Get to it then, dismissed."

Once the team split up Tigris removed her balaclava entirely, tucking it down into one of her vest pouches. "So, where are we dropping this guy?"
Minotaur bent down to grab the body-bag handles while chuckling. "They want him down at the holding cell. Don't know what One got planned for him but I sure as hell don't want to stick around."

Tigris chuckled and grabbed the bag at her end. Slowly the two of them carried the body-bag towards an elevator which would take them relatively close to the holding cells. Meanwhile the rest of the team had spread out evenly with Griffin and Cerberus heading towards the armory, Condor for Magpie's little science room and the others towards the barracks.

 

[Mr_DC]

"Awwwww..." Mantis moaned, eyes wide open at the gift in her hands. "Come!" She extended her arms, pouting her lips. "That is so fucking sweet, Cow! You do care! I'm gonna hug you either now or I'm dropping on you from the bunker roof when you least expect it." She pursed her lips, staring at the big Beast with teary eyes. She would have expected something like that from practically anyone except Cow. The normally distant Beast had a soft spot for her and Mantis would never let him forget it.


"Hey, 'tard team." Wolf revealed herself from a doorway. She had been out of action for a while after their mission. The checkup Doe ran on her confirmed the doctor's suspicion and the sniper did more damage than Wolf cared to admit. Still, she hid the bandages on her chest with her armor and her squad did their best to seem busy and, in turn, do most of Wolf's work. "Got my package, I see." She headed towards Tigris and Minotaur, followed only by one member of her squad and her massive pet, Bear. After plenty of lobbying and complaining in One's office, Wolf managed to make him buckle and allow her to work on extracting information. It would at least be more interesting than trying to find a satisfying replacement for her lost squad member.

None of the new recruits seemed to have it. None of them fit her squad. Wolf remembered the day she found her right-hand man - Red. The man was just as loyal as Bear but also incredibly vocal in his support. No one got away with dodging Wolf's rules around him, even if that meant picking fights with Mantis' group. The soldier was just the kind of a person Wolf needed for her squad. She plucked him right off the chopping block after killing several recruits in a heated argument. Saving his life like that only cemented his loyalty for Wolf.
"Hope you didn't rough him up too much. That's my job." Wolf said, trying to be loud enough that the person in the bag heard her. "Took you long enough, though. What's the matter? You were too busy fucking each other to do your damn job?" She spoke through her teeth.

While Wolf didn't need a reason to be rude, she certainly had a reason to take shots at Minotaur when even a semblance of an opportunity appeared. In her eyes, there were only three people fitting to take over One's position if anything ever happened. Wolf, of course, Gazelle, and Minotaur. She never saw Gazelle as a threat. The doctor could never take the reigns of the Program and, Wolf assumed, would probably leave if One fell. Even if she took things over, she could easily be taken care of.
Minotaur, on the other hand, was not so easy to dismiss. He commanded certain respect with his long run in the Program and loyalty to One. She couldn't accurately judge if he would have the power to wrestle control away from her. After all, in spite of his popularity, Wolf had as much authority as One. She was the one who forced herself into everything One did. She was working hard on the image of being One's chosen successor.

"Condor." Crow's calm voice came from behind Condor. He could smell the alcohol on his breath within the helmet. Started drinking early that day. Continued drinking from the day before. He had no new assignment and, instead, was left to rot in the base. Most of the missions went to the younger members. To those who weren't tasked with flying One to Washington and back every other weekend. Even Sparrow was flying more and more often in spite of Crow's protests. "How was the mission?" He asked, speaking slowly. Carefully. He was experienced in hiding the effects. Speaking cautiously to avoid slurring his words. Wearing the full armor to avoid anyone noticing the smell. Never rush to avoid stumbling. He became a master at it. "Anything interesting happened?" He smiled behind his mirrored visor. The only thing he had when One confined him to the base was living through others. Listening to the stories of younger pilots who weren't treated like they were made of glass. Telling them his own stories and reliving the glory days.

 

[Viper Actual]

As soon as they stepped into the elevator both Minotaur and Tigris let out a deep sigh as Wolf appeared out of the blue. Minotaur looked at Wolf with an amused expression. "Missed me, Wolfie? I figured you'd be off somewhere fetching a squeaky toy."

He nodded towards the body-bag. "He's yours as soon as I get him signed down at the cells. You'll like him, he's a biter."

Tigris chuckled at the last statement.

---

On her way to Magpie Condor was deep in thought and jumped slightly as Crow showed up.

"Oh, Crow, hey!" She said while punching him in the arm jokingly. Condor shrugged. "Good mission. Good flight. Had some minor trouble with the gyroscopic navigation systems. I may actually need you to take a gander at all this before I hand it over to Magpie."

Mr_DC

 

[Mr_DC]

Wolf rolled her eyes while keeping the elevator doors open. "Why is that everyone's go-to insult? If you'd like, I can rip the arm off one of your squad mates. That'd be one hell of a squeaky toy. I can already hear it squeak." She said, tapping the elevator door to punctuate her words. Wolf had the required boost to bravery to threaten Minotaur's team. She wouldn't do something like that alone, without Bear and Red behind her. With the pair, she knew the odds were tipped in her favor and she would, at the very least, retain her dignity. When she was dominating, no one could stare her down.

Wolf growled at the chuckle from Tigris and decided to give them an offer where only Wolf wins. "How about you come with me? See what happens to those who get on my nerves?" She asked, motioning at the body bag. Who the man was, wasn't Wolf's problem. She was just there to blow off some steam and terrify him. But the pair didn't have much of a choice. If they rejected, they would show they can't stomach what Wolf does. If they accept, they would lose a major part of their day and have to sit through a boring torture session. "If you have the stomach for it, that is."


"Glad to hear it, kiddo." Crow smiled. Condor was one of the good ones. She had a spark which would get her far. Farther than Crow, probably. Definitely farther than him. His greatest achievement was dropping a weapon of mass destruction and that was something he desperately tried to drink away. "Sure, I'll check it out." Crow nodded, only partially aware of what he agreed to. "I'll just check out the presidential address." Few soldiers still followed the news. It was only those who wanted to know where the hotspots in the world were. Who wanted to have a rough idea where they would be sent. The urgent message the president had for the nation, however, got the soldiers riled up and most were going to gather in the main hall to see what it will be.


"I've been trying to reach you the whole day, Sinclair." One said calmly, leaning back in his padded leather chair in his office. Swan was in the office as well, sitting on one of the sofas and listening to One's conversation. She already threatened to quit if One didn't stop putting her in dangerous situations but she didn't have the courage to go beyond a threat. "What's going on?"
"You should have gotten the hint." A somewhat rushed voice came from the speakers. The person on the other end spoke with a voice which put Swan on edge. It was as if he exhaled way more than he had to when speaking, giving him an inhuman tone. "Your meeting with the president didn't go well."
"It's fine." One shook his head. "I'll see what I can do to turn him to our side." One admitted to himself while flying back to base that day that it could have gone smoother. The president not only didn't want to hear what One had to say but also ended the meeting on a tone which made One feel like he would be a thorn in his side.
"No." Sinclair raised his voice. "That is what got you in this mess in the first place. We agreed you wouldn't expose yourself. That your involvement with politics will go through us. Now people know you're working with us."

One was tense. He rarely heard Sinclair so agitated. One attributed it to the recent disappearances of their associates or their presidential candidate not making it but there had to be something more. "Sinclair. It's fine. Don't w-"
"One!" Sinclair finally lost it. "I don't know why you went behind our backs. Perhaps you think you're not getting your fair share of power or maybe you just didn't think. We kept you away from this mess so if something happened, our main source of income and influence - you - wouldn't be revealed. Now you've gone and fucked it all up!" One hesitated to say anything so Sinclair continued. "We'll see what the president has to say. After that, we can discuss damage control. You better hope he won't have anything to say about us. Or you. Otherwise, this whole scheme of ours is going down the drain." With a click, the call ended.

Swan and One shared a long stare. "Stay until after the address. We'll discuss your contract." One said. He didn't want to let her go. She was still useful. She didn't understand her position, though. By being One's protege, she learned a lot. A lot about One and his political connections. That was the kind of information which would never leave the Program. If she truly wanted to terminate her contract, she would have to be dealt with.
"Call Wolf to my office." One looked up and spoke to no one in particular. The virtual assistant monitoring his office would handle it.

 

[Viper Actual]

Minotaur shook his head and smacked his tongue loudly. "So violent, so aggressive. You're grumpier than usual. Bad morning?" Wolf's threats and insults felt empty to him. Minotaur knew what it was all about and honestly he couldn't care less about whatever internal power struggle Wolf projected on them. He liked working in the field and would never trade it away. If Wolf wanted to be the king of the base then so be it, as long as he could keep doing what he loved.

For now though, he'd play along. Just to fuck with her. Once the offer to join Wolf came up Minotaur pondered on it for a few moments before shaking his head. "As much as I would love to watch you cope with whatever childhood trauma you may have through physical violence Tigris and I have somewhere to be afterwards. Unless you want to tell One you were the reason he didn't get his report in time, that is."

The body-bag shrieked again, earning it a gentle kick from Minotaur. "Once you sign him he's yours and we're gone."

---

Condor nodded. "I'll go with you then. I'm ahead of schedule either way, I'm sure Magpie won't mind."

While she respected Crow and viewed a bit as a mentor she couldn't help but feel a bit sad talking to him. She had heard the tales. His golden days. All those high-risk flights, the kind that would get her adrenaline pumping to the max. Now he was a shell of himself. Condor sighed. Maybe she could help him?

As they walked towards the main hall Condor spoke up. "Hey, wanna tag along for a training flight tomorrow? I need to re-calibrate some of the VTOL systems. Having you as a co-pilot would save me the trouble of babysitting one of the hangar techs. Plus, you could get some more flight time. It'll be fun."

Mr_DC

 

[0stinato]

"Please don't drop on me. My spine couldn't take it. Could it, Doe? I'd die. I'm so brittle."

"Oh, so brittle," Doe said. "You have no padding at all."

Cow sighed. In his life, he had only one person who hugged him, and he almost never hugged her back. But was Mantis not like Lois? Young. Excitable. Cheerful, so cheerful, all the time. Mantis probably watched shit television too. Like the programme muted at the moment. Probably some awful comedy. Like Lois watched. Probably the exact same thing. He didn't recognise it, but, then again, Mantis was American.

So in a way they were... pretty identical. Especially now. Under the blanket, a bit sickly, a bit weak, Mantis had her arms outstretched and her lip quivering for a hug. Was Lois not the exact same?

He found himself stuck in the thought as he leaned towards Mantis. It was an automatic response. Let her hug, She'd get the comfort and it'd be better, she'd be quieter, she'd recover from whatever illness it was this time, for which she apparently needed a hot water bottle every hour, children's cough syrup because "it definitely helps!" and a two litre bottle of coke "because it helps my tummy." If not coke, Lucozade. Which was more expensive and robbed her of the ability to sleep.

Ah, wrong woman.

Mantis was hanging onto him, not Lois. Hanging on round his armoured back. She was getting something from him that wasn't comfort. He was getting something from her too, he was certain. A sense of responsibility. A need to give something.

"Well..." he said, then paused, realising his voice had been lost somewhere in the well of memory. He tried again. "I'm glad you misinterpreted my sardonicism as caring. Maybe you're right. Maybe you're..." he paused again, but this time because of the television screen. "That wasn't what was on before."



In the week they'd returned, Rat was doing some digging. With what Moth had given him, he had begun to construct plans based off the other Beasts. It was all about knowing their patterns. Some Beasts, as he theorised, did use their passcodes more. Some were more passive about it than others. As for files, Rat was considering taking risks. For access, he had to be prepared to play his hand. To put his chips on the table. To rely on his skill above the others. To rely on his... skills outside of the Program.

Rat was a stealth Beast for a reason. He was also a pacifist for a reason. Rat firmly believed that life was much more valuable when kept intact because keeping someone alive promised information out of them. People were ripe with information. Death pulled the plug on that entirely.

Rat was in the records room, accessing what he could. He had spent time on the servers, rifling through information on the previous mission, in a covering attempt to discover anything about the hired mercenaries, where they had been hired from and at what point they had been hired. He was injecting himself into that so far so that his other activity was disguised. That was less than appropriate. He was using the tools Moth had given him. Using them endlessly. He was even inspecting paper files that his authority could access. And a couple of times he went beyond his clearance level with another Beast's passphrase.

Rat didn't have to write a thing down.

He harvested all that he saw and he let his brain digest it into memory.

Rat was at one of the locked records cabinets. Internally he sighed before he let the passphrase fall from his lips. "All recruits are stupid recruits."



It would be slightly dangerous for Condor and Crow to step into Magpie's workshop. The high-ceilinged buildings were where tanks were fixed up, as well as the smallest of ammunitions were tinkered with. But at this particular point, Magpie was lying on a table with his torso below a piece of armour that was propped up not by a stand - all the stands in the room were occupied, and makeshift ones had been constructed to hold other pieces of armour - but by the strong, bare arms of one of Magpie's team. She was the only thing separating him from safety and potential brain damage.

He had his hands deep inside the armour. It had to be kept horizontal for his procedure: he had a mould drying on the other side but was being efficient with his time. What he was lying beneath was Wolf's damaged chestpiece. It had taken a heavy shot, she said by a sniper. He was fascinated. He had to know what to do to negate the damage. At the moment, he was theorising a membrane that wouldn't only absorb the impact, but would displace it around her torso piece before her chest was hit, saving her body from as much damage. Instead of being bruised in the chest, she would instead potentially only sustain minor bruising, but across a wider area. And implementing this could save her life... if a shot was enough to induce shock, it would be displaced. It would stop her from feeling it in one big burst.

"Can I put it down yet?"

"No, no, definitely not."

"Please, my arms hurt, c'mon."

"Just a couple more seconds. You're strong, stop worrying." Magpie brought up a small camera and snapped a picture of the underside again. More evidence, more to work with.

"That's the fiftieth picture," the woman complained. "C'mon."

"Think of this as your trial, okay? Just stay here for two more minutes and I'll advance you to... uh... senior chief petty officer."

"That ain't nothing, Mag. You know what I wanna be."

"Yeah, and you won't be it until you hold this for a ten more minutes."

"Ten! It's gone up! You said a few seconds! Then a few minutes. I ain't staying here for ten minutes, I got coffee to drink."

"One and a half."

"One, Mag."

"One and a half, O'Shea."

"One and twenty-nine seconds."

Magpie grinned. "Fine, one minute, twenty-nine seconds. That's fine."

The scene was not safe. O'Shea's dark arms were physically demonstrating their strength, but she was beginning to fidget out of discomfort. Magpie wasn't noticing, and was back to plunging his fingers deep within the sniper crater, nails catching on raw fibres of kevlar melted by the impact.



Mr_DC Viper Actual

 

[Mr_DC]

Gazelle sighed, staring through the syringe on the desk in her office. Empty. She didn't know how much time had passed. Seconds, minutes, hours. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly, trying to bring herself back. A part of her was aware she shouldn't have upped the dosage but that part was being smothered somewhere while the rest of her mind drifted. It drifted to that castle in France. The beautiful de Lorraine estate. The memory was crystal clear. She could see herself in the large, sunlit rooms, running through the army of smiling servants keeping the mansion beautiful. Her tutor was waiting for her and she didn't want to miss a single session. She was hungry for knowledge, thirsty for experience. Fleur was aiming to reach the heights of her father and make him proud.
Fleur. She heard his voice. Her face lit up like every time he came home. Turning around, she saw him. His aged face, the graying beard with a matching full head of hair tied back. She remembered his kind, understanding eyes.

"Doctor?" A muffled voice coupled with unrelenting knocking struck her back. It had definitely been more than minutes. "Doctor Gazelle?" The voice repeated.
"A moment." Gazelle rasped out. She stood up, holding herself against a filing cabinet for a moment. Just to get her balance back. "A moment." She repeated, heading to the door. She could walk. The morphine wore off for the most part. The only thing that remained was the calm. Her heart wasn't running a race and her mind wasn't threatening a meltdown. She could finally take a deep breath without the fear of bursting to tears. Grabbing the doorknob, Gazelle smiled. It was a good memory. It had been long since she added another to the collection but there were many in the past that she could bring back. So many happy memories before she joined One.

"Oh, hello." Gazelle greeted doctor Cedric.
"Doctor Gazelle." The young doctor smiled back but a worried expression flashed on his face. "Is... Is everything alright? You look like you were crying."
Gazelle stifled a sniffle and looked away with a shock chuckle. "Yes, everything is fine. I just..." She lowered her voice, giving the young man a wink. "I just took a little nap. Don't tell anyone."
Cedric laughed. "If anyone deserves it, doctor, it's you." He paused, watching the doctor with a half smile. "So... I'm here. You called me?"
Gazelle needed a moment to remember. She did need him for something. Something... "Yes!" She exclaimed. "Yes." She repeated, toning down her reaction. "I have some samples I need tested. It's not urgent but..." She squirmed. "It's meant to be private. The patient asked me to keep it a secret."
Cedric raised his hands, giving Gazelle an understanding nod. "Don't worry. I won't even look at the results." He assured her.

Once Gazelle gave him the samples, he hesitated. "Doctor... I think you agreed to go for a drink with me one day."
Gazelle smiled and bowed her head. He was insistent. Far more than anyone else in her team. Far more than anyone else. He didn't pressure her but certainly showed he wanted to get to know Gazelle better. It wouldn't be appropriate, though. No matter how many times he asked of what he offered. She was older and he was... Too full of life. Besides, their line of work was dangerous. Getting too attached to someone was only dangerous. Someone would get hurt. "Tea." She corrected him. "Tea... Tomorrow night. My office. I can make time for it." She accepted. Perhaps it was the desire for good memories, perhaps it was the morphine suppressing the worry about what One would do if he knew. But she waited for One long enough. Maybe this would be enough to get him to make a move, maybe he never would have made a move. It didn't matter. She had a life to live. Memories to make.


0stinato Viper Actual

Wolf rolled her eyes. "Oh, suck it." She would love to have enough power to put him in his place. Perhaps she could show him who's the top dog by challenging his team for a sparring session. A round in the training room. That required filling up the empty spot in her ranks and there were no troops who impressed her. No one who was willing to kill. No one who didn't care about anything except following orders.
Her visor displayed a notification. A meeting. One's office. Something important was going on - and she was invited. "Just put him in the cell. You can take out the trash, can't you?" She grumbled. "Go with them." She instructed the pair following her. "I've got a meeting with the boss." Wolf instructed Bear and Red before turning to leave.

"Definitely." Crow gave Condor a satisfied nod. It meant being sober that day but it would be worth it. Mostly sober. He flew piss drunk before and while that would be different than piloting One's jet, he was still confident he could do it. He had years of experience and a skilled pilot by his side. "I'd love that." He nodded.
On the way to the main hall, the pair passed through Magpie's workshop. Magpie was there, of course. Where else would he be? There were people in the Program who were so amazing at what they do but never stopped working. A pair of doctors came to mind. The Program was just perfect for fermenting such people. Turning them into perfect machines who only work. "Hey..." Crow gave the pair a wave. He wasn't sure if he knew the woman from before or not so he avoided being specific with his greeting. "Working hard?" He smiled, looking from one to the other.


"You care, you big, mushy thing." Mantis smiled. "Thanks, man... You're cool. We need to get..." She began the plan excitedly but then remembered Doe was in the room. "Have a calm, responsible evening with no alcohol or drugs." She spoke in a dull monotone. "It will be so... Fun." She gave Cow a fake, cold smile. "Yay." She said coldly but couldn't help but follow it with a sincere chuckle.
Her eyes fell on the big TV in the room. It definitely wasn't the porn she was watching before. It was the opposite - politics. "The president?" She cocked an eyebrow. "That sounds absolutely boring." She picked up the remote and turned it up. "Wanna try and grow a brain with me?" She grinned at Cow.

 

[Mr_DC]

Moth took a deep breath. He had seen Shark looking down on the yard from one of the balconies of the bunker. It was easy to miss her standing there in the shadows, motionless in her black armor. He needed to do something, though. All that stalking was of no use to him and he was only getting anxious about getting her on his side. If he was right, then she would be invaluable. He had a strong feeling she was more special than any of them. If he was wrong… Then at least he’d have the finest Beast on his side. Regardless, following her from a distance wasn’t yielding anything. He already saw that the only thing he could work with was the lack of socializing and the blank stares off into the distance. Nothing more was surfacing about the woman. He needed to dig it out.

“Special agent?” Moth murmured, approaching Shark from behind. She did nothing. Not the slightest move. It took a good couple of seconds before she looked over her shoulder. “You don’t get startled by anything, do you?” He chuckled, hands going to his hips, his go-to pose for looking friendly. “Anyone else would chew my ears off about sneaking up on them.”
She reacted the way he expected. That is, she didn’t react at all. Shark simply stopped looking at him and focused on the forest surrounding the base. Anyone else who tried talking with her would have given up at that point but Moth had to find a way through. “It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it?” He asked, walking up to her side. He felt small by the woman even if they were both in similar size armor. Her presence had a way of going unnoticed but when noticed, it strangled all thoughts. “I used to go to a mountain cabin in Switzerland every winter. Nothing better than getting snowed in for days. Just you alone. No one to bother you.”

There it was. Moth wanted to cheer at his own success. Shark’s head moved. It was a small move but she slightly turned her head in his direction. Moth couldn’t believe his luck. It was like cracking a bank vault by entering random digits and succeeding at the first try. The fact that it was a true story only made it that better. He could draw more from his past to pull Shark closer.
“It was amazing. The only thing you’d hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the wind howling outside.” He continued. “Have you ever had a place like that?” Moth poked, trying to get another response. A stronger one.
While it wasn’t what he had hoped for, it was still something. Shark looked ahead again but this time her gaze was lower. She was thinking. A reply would probably be too much but he was having a conversation with her. One-sided conversation but it was more than anyone else had done.

“Listen, uh…” Moth decided to cash out and continue later. He didn’t want to push his luck and lose the progress he made by rambling nonsensically. Before he pulled out of the conversation, he wanted to throw her a line. Try to hook her. “I know everyone is waiting to see you in action to judge if you’re truly that good but…” He shrugged. “If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to look me up.” Shark focused on the forest again. There was no pause between his words and her action. She wasn’t hooked. “I’m Moth, by the way.” He mumbled, walking backward away from the motionless Beast.

 

[Viper Actual]

Minotaur chuckled. "See you around, Wolfie." As Wolf left the elevator he nodded towards Bear and Red. "'Sup, fellas?"
Tigris smiled and shook her head. Soon enough the elevator had arrived at its destination.

Minotaur and Tigris carried the squirming body-bag to the warden's desk, signed him over and sighed. "Good luck," said Minotaur as he gave Red a quick clap on the arm before walking off.

---

Condor tilted her head as she stood next to Crow and watched the scene in front of her unfold.

"Hey uh, Mag, I got a couple of flight reports here for you? Want me to come back later or just leave them here?"

---

With a series of loud clink-sounds Griffin and Cerberus placed the ammo boxes on the table in front of them.
As Cerberus popped them open in preparation for the inventory Griffin grabbed a datapad from a nearby wall charger.

"How are you holding up?" He asked while looking at Cerberus.

"I'm okay. You?" Replied Cerberus.

Griffin nodded positively while using the datapad to scan the barcodes printed to the side of the ammo boxes.

They continued going over the ammo in silence.



Mr_DC 0stinato

 

[0stinato]

"Certainly no alcohol..." Cow looked back at her from the screen. "Can't stand it. Hope that doesn't ruin your plans."

If the screen wasn't capturing her attention, he felt he would explain why. Then perhaps sprinkle on a bit of understanding of his reaction to the stuff via an anecdote that got him into disciplinary trouble six months ago. But she probably would remember that. People liked to remind him of it on occasion, but he didn't react. He couldn't even find what he did to be morally wrong or even embarrassing after the fact. It was, to him, just one event in the long history of Beasts occasionally going off the rails. They all did it. It was what Mantis had said before; they were all psychos. Maniacs. They could all go off the rails.

Some stayed on better than others, but Mantis had been right nonetheless.

Psychos made it out of Cow's slaughterhouse and into Beasts' teams. Wolf's team: all psychos. Cow knew them all. He kept an eye on them, even if he no longer had access to their records. Same with Minotaur's team. Specialised psychos. Some flew. Some created. Some stood there and punched til their knuckles bled.

That was it though.

Psychos had that spark. Soldiers didn't.

In general, anyway.

Cow's eye slid to Doe as he subtly decoded her. He wondered where she stood on the scale. She was standing, one hand on her hip, the other placed on a pile of files. She had been smiling at them as she watched their interaction. Probably pleased to see Mantis took the... well, Cow couldn't call it a gift, because it was purely thrown at her out of irony. Well. It wasn't up to him. If she enjoyed it, and he felt some satisfaction from giving to her, then it must be a gift.

"Hm? The president? Of where?"

Doe looked round, "America, you must recognise him?"

"Oh. Not really. There's no point. I don't do politics. Just a lot of people trying to make things matter when nothing matters anyway."

"Cow, shh, it might be important."

Cow looked at Mantis, no longer buoyed up by her spirit but rather deflated by the screen's reminder of his nihilism, but she seemed to want to listen.

"Move," he said, deciding to sit on her bed.



Magpie noticed the chestpiece move drastically before he noticed there were others in the room, and he yelped. Afraid of O'Shea dropping it upon him, he scrabbled out from under it, twisting to his feet and staring at her in disbelief, ready to put his foot down in demanding she stay focused, but noticed the other two in the room. He perked up, straightening and grabbing a cloth that was dirtier than it was clean, and wiping his hands on it. He had nothing on his hands at all, not even a trace of plaster, but so used was he to having oil or grease coating his fingers than he always wiped his hands before approaching someone, in case handshakes were in order.

"Yes, working," he confirmed, a little flustered in the presence of his superiors. "Oh, uh... lay that down on the bench, please."

O'Shea grinned at him, rolled her eyes and marched it over to its sling on a bench. She was careful with it - careful being respective, seeing that O'Shea was one of Magpie's most reckless of team members - and kept it horizontal as she positioned the fabric to take its weight. The sling had been jury-rigged by Magpie when he got the chestpiece, deciding to treat it like a precious piece of equipment than an armour plate.

"Just examining Wolf's chestplate. She got a sniper right-" he hit his own chest, "-bam, there. So I'm looking into displacement methods. Hard work."

"He totally hasn't got, like, twelve other things he should be doing." O'Shea yelled over Condor.

"No, this was priority," Magpie waved a hand hurriedly to dismiss her as he looked to the two flyers. "Anyway. What did you have? Flight reports? Oh! From my precious little VTOL? Yes! Give them to me, please, I'd love to see them. How'd it do? Was it working well enough? Was it stable to fly? Important question because I'm considering adding more firepower, but I'd have to sacrifice some weight for it, and that means having to improve the landing jets at least..." Magpie fell into a reverie, tapping one finger on his lips as he thought. "Oh, um... I'm not keeping you am I? I'll take the reports," he smiled, bashful.


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