Target: Cambridge

[Reaver Company Inc.]

The rehabilitation was long and arduous. Learning to live with the suit on was a delayed reaction type thing, while the more immediate concerns of how to use the neural interface to turn on and off the recoil compensators, flipping through the vision modes, and how to access the basic biological needs every living thing has too precedence. The process took time, and outside the safe bubble of the High Security labs, the world moved on.

SiN Tech produced nanomachines drifted over the world in clouds, scrubbing the air of irradiated particles and stopping further spread of the toxin storm. The final bodies were recovered and counted, bringing the total dead up to 203,756,492 killed in the attack. On the edges of the disaster, reconstruction was already underway. At the center still stood a ruined city, darkened clouds overhead lighting up the devastation every once in a while with electric blue light, a stark contrast to the yellow-orange glow of the remaining street lamps and other lights that bathed the city with strange colors, leaving an illusionary phosphorescence in the mist. Like some ravaged dream world, the city and surrounding suburbs seemed utterly devoid of life for the most part, yet it still seemed like people should be there.

And at the Night Plateau research and production facility, a small argument was taking place;

"Let us in!"

"I can't, sir. You don't have access to the High Security labs."

"I am an officer with the Sirius Federation, and you will let me in!"

"I can't! You don't have access, you don't have command rights here, and you certainly don't have a search warrant!"

The heated debate between the SF Colonel and the SiN Tech bridge operator echoed about the massive natural cavern that was the first checkpoint into the High Security area. The two armed guards that stayed with the security technician in his booth watched with detached interest now; This argument had been going on for the past 15 minutes, and was starting to repeat itself.

While the technician and Colonel ran around each other in circles, Central Dogma received reports and began to question itself. Why would the SF be looking around? What purpose would they have trying to access the High Security labs? Was it possible they knew?

Running the risks, it decided that the "guest" was in danger and it was time to move. Communications were sent, inquiries were made, and a text message was delivered;

"Dear Mr.Fokke ..."

---

Reaver Recruitment | Forum Reaver Database | Neutral Net Database