Chapter 2: 2- Drafted Again

It was a cold day like any other in the office of the Central Command. The office handled more stuff than any office in Atlas Corporation. Though the entire corporation was divided into four fronts named after each direction, the majority of work was verified and processed through the central.

Might be for effective management or just because of common business practice. Headquarters were an obligation anyway.

Outside the monstrous building that boasted itself as the headquarter, stood two individuals gawking at the top, where the grand logo of Atlas with a very bold A resided. Around them walked a dozen staff flashing their badges, going in and out.

“It sure looks busy!” Mentioned the pretty woman with long raven black hair. Her jewel-like emerald eyes scanned the surroundings, missing not even a single detail. Then settled on the man to her right.

“Central is always busy.” He answered, not one shred of excitement visible in his tone as he gazed at the colossal structure.

The man had hair so dark it was nearly black, and he had deep red eyes, the same color as the sky during sunset.

The quality of his clothing and his graceful appearance spoke to an innate elegance. That was not to suggest he was frail, as his muscled body also exuded an aura of constant readiness. One who looked upon him would liken him to a commander on the front lines of a battlefield, despite his age.

However, that assumption would not be wrong as he was the commander of a group, notoriously famous for hunting down the Accursed creatures that hauled havoc on the empire for the past decades.

“Shall we?” The woman who went by the name Fena and was the long-term and only assistant of the man suggested.

Relaying no response the man jogged forward, onto the beautiful porcelain tiles, towards the office of the Central command. The man who commanded any and every soldier deployed throughout the empire.

“You nervous?” She asked as they reached the gates.

“No!” His response was stale, manners placid.

“Then what are you waiting for?” She shot back with an innocent grin.

“Nothing.” Directing a harmless glare to the already accustomed women, he stepped inside.

The room itself was huge yet warm at the same time. It was lit by the sunlight coming through the tinted windows, along with the lights on the ceiling. Interiors were decorated with important materials such as enormous maps of the entire empire divided by designated fronts, and a few old-school and modernistic weapons scattered around. In the middle was an oversized table made of fine wood.

Behind the table sat a man way beyond his prime which his sunken cheeks and partially bald head confirmed. His frail hands sank into the oceans of paper that his dark gloomy eyes overlooked. He seemed tired; although age was a factor.

“… Grey!” Noticing the footsteps, the old man raised his head to recognize the person before him. It seemed he was expecting a guest.

“General Briggs!” He gave a solid salute, befitting for the man who held the title of General.

“At ease, Soldier.” The General waved away the gesture.

A tight nod later Grey stood closer to the table waiting for further instructions and Briggs let go of whatever work he was doing

“Take a seat.” His voice was calm, just like his appearance.

“Sir!” Grey took the seat closer to him and sat straight, just like he was taught when in front of superiors.

“So, how was the journey? Any issues!” Briggs leaned on his chair; hands interlocked, legs one over another. A very relaxed posture, unlike the man opposite him.

“It was fine, Sir.” Grey responded sternly, face expressionless to hide his obvious displease.

Hopping from one teleportation gate to another was anything but pleasant due to constant vertigo. Granted, it was a better choice than traveling on rocky roads by military vehicles or horse-drawn carriages.

“Good… Now, are you aware of the reason for your abrupt visit to Central?”

“No.”

It all happened without any notice. Grey was shuffling some documents and his assistant came running with the notice that he was needed in central immediately. Obeying the call and expecting the worst he hopped in.

“That was the whole point.” Briggs snapped his fingers. Broke his comfortable stance to lean on the table. Hands one over another, an air of uncertainty surrounded him. “Let me humor you then.”

Grey bobbed his head, not interested in wasting any more words.

"Will it be wrong for me to assume that you have been keeping track of all the major hives that have been either cleared or still active?" Briggs questioned; eyes steady.

"Yes." He answered, matching the gaze.

The hive or better known as the nest was where all the Accursed creatures were born and raised. It was always a topic of high priority. Keeping track was practically part of his job, but most never took it seriously.

“So, you already know about the Keshmar Hive.” 

“The hive that rebuilt itself without a core,” Grey replied to the best of his knowledge. “Yes, I have heard of it, but it still sounds impossible. No hive can sustain once the core is removed, let alone revive by themselves.”

“Nevertheless… This peculiar one thrives. Reconnaissance reports swarms on the entrance, meaning it is ready to expand.” Briggs propped backward; hands interlocked supporting his head. “And you are here to figure out how and why.”

Grey’s brows furrowed. When he responded to the abrupt call, he expected some sort of assignment, but not exactly this.

“With all due respect Sir, that hive is under the jurisdiction of Northern Command. He should make the decisions regarding it. If needed he must personally take matters into his hand.” 

Central never intervened in other zone matters. If they were doing it now, then was the respective command not available? 

"His hands are full with the Lambent outbreak and preparing the vaccine." Briggs heaved a sigh, released his hands, and sited his legs up the table. "The Resistance Front is also very active in that area, opposing our every move. He can't spread thinner than this."

"But I am deployed under the Southern command. I cannot be deployed again in between a major operation.” Grey made his point and also dismay concerning it very clear.

Transferring officers as per the needs was a necessity in the military, but not when one change could alter the outcome drastically. And here the situation was similar.

“You were deployed. Yes!” Lowering his legs, Briggs sat straight. His voice now booming with authority. “But as of this moment, you have been relocated to the Northern Front under the direct command of the Central.”

“Sir… The last major hive in the south needs to be taken care of as soon as possible. Delaying it would only cause us more harm than any good.” Despite the lack of control, he opposed it.

“How is the preparation?”

“The second I leave here; the final assault will be launched.”

“Then I take it that all the planning has been done.” Briggs forced his agenda. “Only thing remaining should be boots on the ground and minimal arrangements.”

“…Yes Sir.” Grey inclined, trying to emphasize the weight of his mission. "But still, I lead Vanguard. I have to be there as a field commander and finish the mission."

“I know that perfectly well Lieutenant.” The General hurled a few papers toward Grey. “So, keeping your concerns in mind we have already taken care of that matter.”

Grey glossed through the contents.

“For the remainder of the operation, your Executive Officer Marcus can take your position and lead Vanguard. I know he needs to do his study and all… But another few weeks should not cause any major setbacks.”

“That… might not be a very bright idea.”

“How so?”

“The hive is a very complex structure. One needs to extensively study every in and out to find a passage that might lead to the core. Marcus is experienced and is with me a lot during layer dives, but I seriously doubt his abilities to be able to conduct the operation independently.” Grey explained his reasoning with details, hoping the General would understand.

“That is why he would have time to study the hive on his own and your research will be a big help over that.” Briggs scratched his forehead, annoyance evident in his face and tone. “He is the best choice in the bunch. And I don’t understand why you are so reluctant?”

“I won’t deny that he is a good choice. But not qualified enough to take on that big of a mission.” He upheld his words.

His EXO named Marcus was a fine specimen of a human but had some critical flaws that hindered him often. His recklessness, half-assed ethics, and trying to prove the point in the worst times made him a very oddball in the team that no one willingly respected. Nonetheless, his ability to achieve results helped him maintain his position, regardless of the dozen warnings and demotions.

“Honestly Lieutenant…” Rolling his eyes Briggs let out a fitted groan. “Why don’t you just follow my orders, putting aside your responsibility?”

Grey stayed still for a minute, reflecting on the words. He was sure by now that no amount of words would go through this man's thick skull. Arguing with him would only lead to a worse outcome than it already had. So, he changed gears. Shifting from professional needs to personal ones.

"May I request something, Sir?" He asked.

"Go on." The old man rested his chin on his palm.

"I am supposed to be on leave after the operation. It is a break I need and looking forward to for months. Now sending me somewhere with an indefinite schedule wouldn't be…" He knowingly trailed off at the end.

He had filed a leave request for the tenth time by now. And each time they rejected saying his presence was of utmost importance. But at the end of the day, he was a human that required a break once in a while. He couldn't just plow through everything without breaking down.

"Hmm…" Scratching his beard, Briggs fell into a deep thoughtful state, as if considering the soldier's request. Then he returned.

“Times have changed.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We can only act accordingly.”

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Observing the non-existent yet lousy reaction, Grey clicked his tongue. "Yeah…" There was never any chance, to begin with. Everything was definite here.

"Listen, Grey, I am sorry that I wasn't able to fulfill your request, but this is the last time you are employed by our division." The General played the apology card by toning down both his voice and expression. "Once the job is done you will be a free bird like you once were."

"Yes, Sir." Grey nodded. 

Another chance was lost. But it was not the end. He still had to figure out who recommended him for this task. The central couldn't have just randomly picked him. Someone was responsible for all his atrocities.

 “Sir, can I make a call from your intercom.” He asked.

“To whom?”

“My unit commander.” Grey mentioned with a faint smile. The unit commander was the one he suspected the most because they kept track of everyone and were tightly linked with the central.

“You don’t have to.” The General waved away the request. “Shephard is the one who approved your transfer. What’s the point of asking him again?”

As the name Shepherd landed on the table, Grey sneered inwardly; mumbling to himself. "Should have known."

If Shephard was behind this assignment, which definitely was the case or Briggs would not throw around that valued name; then there was no room left to negotiate. He had to accept and follow even if that cost him his life. That was what they were taught or the consequences might be dire.

Thus, Grey rose to his feet and gave a firm salute. “Thank you for your time, Sir… I will now proceed to Keshmar.” He said, faking a smile.

“Thank you.” Briggs posed an equal smile. "And here on out, you are a Special officer. You know what that is right?"

"Yes, Sir."

Lowering his head, Grey went by the way he came from. Doors were shut and the old man threw himself on the chair, legs again resting up the table. And at the next moment, his intercom ranged. Groaning, he put it on speaker, assuming it to be one of his assistants.

"What?"

"Status?" An ominous, masculine voice asked from the other end.

Hearing the voice, Briggs heaved a deep breath. "Transfer is done. The asset is deployed."

"Good.” After a short pause, the voice continued; tone impassive. “Do not interfere with its operations, nor report anything to the Table.”

"Only wait and watch huh…” He grunted, annoyed by the remark. “You just keep your promise and don’t drag the Corp into your mess, Sheepman… Or else…”

"It will be considered."

“You better.”

The next moment the line went silent and Briggs exhaled once more. “Why does it always end like this!”

----

Grey stepped outside, ruffling his hair; searching for his assistant who hadn't been outside the door like she was supposed to be. Finding no sign of her, he then made his way to the reception desk and gave his ID card to the attendant.

"Authorize a portal use, under Lt. Grey." He said.

The attendant shook her head, fingers dancing on the keyboard. "Done, Sir. You have been authorized." She returned the card with a friendly smile. "Have a safe trip."

Breaking his expressionless appearance and putting on the same smile as hers, Grey moved on.

His legs took him down to the ground floor; only a short walk remained to reach the teleportation gate. Still, he waited amongst the crowd, eyes scanning every face. Fena hadn't shown up yet.

"Where did she run up to now?" Grey muttered, getting impatient with each passing second.

There was no such thing called smartphones here. Atlas strictly prohibited the usage of those modern devices to protect the sanity of the empire and its people. So, Grey had no choice but to use the only option.

It was a device called Raider that replaced the traditional radios, emerging as a standalone transmission device; working regardless of time and place and ignoring all interference by distance, weather, and terrain.

This tech-enhanced and transmitted the neural waves of the brain to others by navigating through the shared consciousness of humanity as a whole. The transmission allowed persons to share senses from sight and sound to even emotions.

So, he attached the black metallic earpiece in his ear that expanded itself covering the entire earlobe. Tapped the screen on his wristwatch and combed for the sync address of Fena.

However, the connection seemed unnecessary in the next moment as his ears picked up the very acquainted, cheerful sound of the woman he had known for the past six years. She was gradually pacing towards Grey along with three central staff. Two males and one female, all holding a conversation with her. They were all giggling; overall looked happy.

Grey was neither interested nor wanted to ruin the mood. So he waited on the sidelines, till the group dispersed and Fena positioned herself on his watch.

“Where to now?” She asked, passing a dark diary to her superior.

“Back to base.” Removing the Raider and taking the diary, Grey motioned towards the building housing the gates.

When they were in clear, away from any potential eavesdropper Grey flipped through the pages.

"So, how did it go?" She inquired.

"How I wanted it to go."

"What did the General say?"

"What I wanted him to say."

"Am I supposed to decipher those cryptic responses?" Fena’s brows knit together.

"It means everything went according to how we predicted." Observing her approach, he glowered.

"So, we going to Keshmar?"

"Yes!"

"You could have said that from the start." Folding her hands, she pouted.

"I said it now." Grey closed the diary, satisfied with the contents. Then handed it back to Fena. "Stop pouting and give me a report."

She scowled for a second then returned to her impassive demeanor.

“High-table is grilling the Corp.” She said, taking a closer look at her surroundings; for any prying eyes. “There is a lot of chatter about the hive in Keshmar. They say if it explodes, entire land trade might suffer.”

Grey nodded; overall expression dull. “Tell me something I don’t know.”.

All this had been on the report he was reading before he was summoned. Nothing surprised him anymore.

“The Atlas Resistance Front. They are way too active in the North and table suspects they have something to do with the new hive.”

“Bullshit!” He scoffed, cracking his knuckles. “Those morons don’t even know how to hold an automated rifle. Navigating those floors and replacing the core is only possible in their dreams. How would they even get a core in the first place?”

The resistance front was a group that resisted Atlas, who threatened to change the medieval ways of the empire. They were not exactly happy with whatever the Corporation was doing for the betterment of the land and people.

So, they always tried to object, often resorting to violence in many cases. Albeit the group was considered nothing but an annoyance for the corporation that could wipe them in a snap.

“A few years ago, you taught me to neither trust nor underestimate even a fly.” She spoke her mind. “And now you are underestimating the power of a thousand like-minded individuals. That’s some rich words coming from you, Sir.”

Listening to her remarks, Grey groaned. “I know that. But it is ridiculous to assume pigs flying.”

“Pigs do not fly.” She said, irritation evident in her tone. “It is just that the front is acting a lot around the nest. They are pillaging traders, stealing Cards, attacking our outposts, even trying to catch those fucking swarms… So, they are citing their involvement.”

“Not our problem.” He increased his pace as the building housing the gates came to view. “Those bastards got way too much time to speculate.”

“But I am curious.” Fena turned to Grey, her eyes locking with his. “How is a dead hive alive again, even after its core was destroyed?”

"Let's go find out." Clasping his hands, Grey marched forward.

Watching Grey’s disappearing back, Fena glanced at the clear sky where a flock of birds could be seen flying north. Then she whispered to herself.

“Hope nothing goes wrong.”

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