The Spy
TommyVercetti
Join Date: 2003-02-10 Member: 13390Members, Constellation, Reinforced - Shadow
Join Date: 2003-02-10 Member: 13390Members, Constellation, Reinforced - Shadow
<div class="IPBDescription">A little experiment...</div> This story is told from the perspective of a United Trans-System States Central Intelligence Agency operative working in the Ariadne sector. I'm a n00b at writing stuff like this.
Matthias glanced out the porthole of the small shuttle at the tiny blue-green orb that was Harvest. It was in the central region of the Ariadne Arm, their center of trade, military, and wealth. One of the few places left he could feel safe from the Kharaa on this insane op. Matthias has spoken to General Andrew Hatcher, the Man himself. It was unusual to be called in on Army business, but the good General had influence in areas far, far from the UTSS Marine Corps. affairs. Now, thanks to the work he'd done in the past and a gross overestimation of his abilities, Matthias was being sent to his certain death at either the hands of the T.S.A. Frontiersmen or the Kharaa. Suddenly the automated announcement system of the unmanned shuttle chimed in "Attention all passengers. We are nearing the Harvest pre-dock security station. Please have all of your carry-on luggage ready for post-flight inspection. Thank you, and have a good day." This wouldn't be a problem, the UTSS CIA had always been good at covering its operatives' tracks. He was Matthew C. Hunter, concerned family member moving out to join the rest of his family in the ill-fated Ariadne Arm. Right. And Matthias was on a civilian flight from Earth, too. That meant on-site procurement - probably one of the T.S.A.'s LMGs, but he'd see if he could get something bigger. He rarely had a chance to use any firearms, but he knew for this op he'd have to. He was supposed to infiltrate a squad of Frontiermen, acquire a sample of the Kharaa bacterium for the R&D boys, and then take it back through around 200 security checkpoints specifically designed to stop the rapid proliferation of the Kharaa. He didn't question his orders, you learned that lesson as soon as you signed on (or were kidnapped on) with the UTSS CIA. Matthais looked around him. Next to him was an empty seat, across the aisle sat a man in an expensive suit, his eyes twitching as he read the headlines through his prohibitively expensive neural implant. He'd probably end up lying in an alley somewhere, his chip and head missing. Crime was a major problem in the Ariadne Arm - the T.S.A. had tried hard to channel the flow of information and misinformation, but the truth about the spread of the Kharaa had gotten out, and the people hadn't united. They'd rebelled - with the quarantine of the entire Arm, unemployment was at record highs, and the sense of impending doom didn't do much for the morale around here. Matthias could hear a baby crying behind him, and a mother trying to calm it down... He couldn't help but feel a little guilty; what exactly was the UTSS going to use the bacterium for? He set his laptop and bag on the aisle seat next to him for the infestation scan robot and rested his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he'd been doing that for too long in cryo on the main vessel. The UTSS was going to use the bacterium as a weapon. They could strike without firing a shot, and no one would ever blame the UTSS, the upholders of justice as the media networks depicted them. That was Matthias's theory, anyways. Yes, he definitely felt a little guilt about what he was going to do. But only a little.
Please tell me if I should continue, maybe suggestions about style. I know this post is boring, but soon enough we'll see some dialouge and action.
Matthias glanced out the porthole of the small shuttle at the tiny blue-green orb that was Harvest. It was in the central region of the Ariadne Arm, their center of trade, military, and wealth. One of the few places left he could feel safe from the Kharaa on this insane op. Matthias has spoken to General Andrew Hatcher, the Man himself. It was unusual to be called in on Army business, but the good General had influence in areas far, far from the UTSS Marine Corps. affairs. Now, thanks to the work he'd done in the past and a gross overestimation of his abilities, Matthias was being sent to his certain death at either the hands of the T.S.A. Frontiersmen or the Kharaa. Suddenly the automated announcement system of the unmanned shuttle chimed in "Attention all passengers. We are nearing the Harvest pre-dock security station. Please have all of your carry-on luggage ready for post-flight inspection. Thank you, and have a good day." This wouldn't be a problem, the UTSS CIA had always been good at covering its operatives' tracks. He was Matthew C. Hunter, concerned family member moving out to join the rest of his family in the ill-fated Ariadne Arm. Right. And Matthias was on a civilian flight from Earth, too. That meant on-site procurement - probably one of the T.S.A.'s LMGs, but he'd see if he could get something bigger. He rarely had a chance to use any firearms, but he knew for this op he'd have to. He was supposed to infiltrate a squad of Frontiermen, acquire a sample of the Kharaa bacterium for the R&D boys, and then take it back through around 200 security checkpoints specifically designed to stop the rapid proliferation of the Kharaa. He didn't question his orders, you learned that lesson as soon as you signed on (or were kidnapped on) with the UTSS CIA. Matthais looked around him. Next to him was an empty seat, across the aisle sat a man in an expensive suit, his eyes twitching as he read the headlines through his prohibitively expensive neural implant. He'd probably end up lying in an alley somewhere, his chip and head missing. Crime was a major problem in the Ariadne Arm - the T.S.A. had tried hard to channel the flow of information and misinformation, but the truth about the spread of the Kharaa had gotten out, and the people hadn't united. They'd rebelled - with the quarantine of the entire Arm, unemployment was at record highs, and the sense of impending doom didn't do much for the morale around here. Matthias could hear a baby crying behind him, and a mother trying to calm it down... He couldn't help but feel a little guilty; what exactly was the UTSS going to use the bacterium for? He set his laptop and bag on the aisle seat next to him for the infestation scan robot and rested his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he'd been doing that for too long in cryo on the main vessel. The UTSS was going to use the bacterium as a weapon. They could strike without firing a shot, and no one would ever blame the UTSS, the upholders of justice as the media networks depicted them. That was Matthias's theory, anyways. Yes, he definitely felt a little guilt about what he was going to do. But only a little.
Please tell me if I should continue, maybe suggestions about style. I know this post is boring, but soon enough we'll see some dialouge and action.
Comments
I would be wary, though, of mentioning specific place-names and times, as the "official" backstory has very little of the former and none of the latter. It is, though, interesting to see a story told from a non-TSA or alien viewpoint.
Keep it up!
The entry into Harvest's atmosphere went smoothly. Once the automated shuttle was gliding in on its final approach, Matthias opened his eyes and took another look out the porthole. The ocean far below was dark blue, with scattered black splotches caused by the storm clouds moving in from the south. Hopefully New Pittsburgh's environmental conditioning systems were operable - concealed nano-armor didn't have hard plastic casing, and wouldn't react well to rain or water. It wouldn't be fatal, but it might reveal the illegal equipment to the military police. In another few moments the city came into view, its sparkling commercial skyscrapers standing tall in front of the old, abandoned mines and refineries that defined New Pittsburgh. The old industrial district where they resided would be his first destination. "Attention passengers. Please buckle your seat belts now for landing. Thank you, and enjoy your stay in the Sigma Eridiani system!"
After another few hours at the airport, he was finally let out into the city. Outside the main terminal, he hailed a taxi. As the car sped through the city, its human driver (only an attendant in place to appease the militant labor unions) pointed out several landmarks. Matthias paid no attention, he'd studied the world and its inhabitants for months preparing for this op. Not to mention almost every piece of literature ever published by or written about the Trans-System Authority Frontiersmen, most of it attained by his fellow operatives. Outside the serene confines of the taxi, the city seemed to be stuck in perpetual gloom. People watched their feet and took small, sullen steps. The storm clouds, now accumulating overhead, blocked out all sunlight and cast everything in shades of gray. Matthias could only imagine what it would feel like to know that you had been sentenced to death by the very governemnts that had promoted expansion, and no one, not even the noble Trans-System Authority was going to let you out. The taxi's overseer interrupted Matthias's daydreaming "Here you go... That'll be 45 credits, please." Matthias paid him and tipped generously - he felt a bit sorry for the people out here. He got out of the taxi about 10 blocks from his first destination and walked the rest. The buildings got increasingly smaller, dirtier, and the air more polluted as he neared the old industrial district. Many buildings had been left in a state of disrepair, businesses forced to close by the quarantine, or maybe crime. He wasn't worried about the weather at this point; there were few pedestrians and the cops were nowhere to be seen. The people he did see didn't even glance at him, even as the rain started and a few sparks burst from his hidden torso armor. By the time he got there, the depressing atmosphere was starting to get annoying. But it was time to work.
Matthias found the building his contact was in. He looked up, letting the rain hit his sunglasses (which actually provided him with a military-type HUD). The sign said "McCafferty's Motors," a last bit of sad, peeling evidence that the disintegrating building once had a respectable owner. He adjusted his glasses, causing a small nav arrow to pop up, directing him to the alley on the right side of the building. He started off into the dark alley at a brisk pace. The package was conveniently close to his contact, but that was too close. The agency was getting sloppy, leaving his instruments this close to... He forced the thought out of his mind, it would lead to doubt and fear. He found his way to the nav point. It was underneath a dumpster and a sewer grate at the very end of the alley. He checked every angle to make sure no one was watching. No high-altitude police scanners, no windows. Good. He reached under the dumpster, careful not to mar his leather coat, and unlocked the hinges of the grate. Then there were footsteps behind him. He heard the distinct buzzing *shick* of a self-sharpening switchblade.
He lifted the grate to the side with careful deliberation... the contents were just below... and he had it. He spun, the M6SD in his hand, and put one 12.7mm subsonic FMJ round between the eyes of a middle aged man wearing old, torn clothing, 10 paces away. A homeless man who lived here? There was a pile of rags in the corner. Sad. There were brains splattered all over the walls and plasticrete ground. A real mess. He dragged the body over to the the dumpter, grabbed it up with a grunt, and rolled it in. He wouldn't have to bother with the brains and skull on the walls - he knew the police in this area were slow enough that he'd be long gone before they discovered this particular John Doe, and violence like this was common in the district. He bent down and claimed the rest of his equipment... a multi-purpose tool (a spidersilk grappling device, a self-assembling lockpick, and a laser cutter), a couple of spare 12 round magazines for his pistol, and an incendiary grenade. It was fortunate that the logistics people had gotten so sloppy as to leave his instruments out in the (relative) open - if they hadn't he might be dead; Matthias was fully trained in hand-to-hand, but one jab from a self-sharpener could easily defeat lightweight nano-armor. As he walked from the alley, he checked his clothes for blood or dirt (and found none) and picked up the man's switchblade. It might be useful.
Now, to the real business. He used a false thumbprint on the front door of the old factory, and it whined open at an agonizingly slow rate. No one could be allowed to see him here, and Matthias didn't feel like popping another civvy. Once it had finally reached the top, he stepped in, his heavy boots proclaiming his entrance into the dusty metal tomb. God, the place looked like something out of one of those sci-fi/horror holovids - all dank metal and hanging wires. "The forges may no longer burn, but I can still taste the iron in the air," Matthias said in a monotone, feeling quite stupid. Which idiot had thought of that codephrase? There was a clank and a cough from the corner, behind one of the old metal stamping conveyor belts. Matthias reached into his jacket for his M6. "H-hey! I got your stuff all ready! Calm down, Arkadey!" Another man who looked just as homeless as the last stepped out from behind the machine. Matthias released his grip on the pistol as the man braced himself on the wall. He had a bad limp and had apparently had one too many drinks. But this was not the man of power Matthias was here to see. He reached for his M6SD and pulled it on the approaching gimp, stated in his finest Russian accent "You are not the man I am looking for," and fired off a shot that zipped past about 2cm from the man's face. "Hey, hey!" the gimp said in a panicked voice "C'mon! I still got your stuff! He gave it to me himself, I got it right here!" The gimp produced a single memory disk, an ancient DVD - the kind used by the agency because there were few machines that could read it these days. In that instant, as the man drew closer for a split second to hand him the disc, Matthias recognized him. It was Andy Goromov. Supposed to be big-time around here. But he was nothing - this was another gaping hole in the agency's coverage... it only added to the unease that had been building since he discovered the little things done wrong, one by one. Well, he would still put the incendiary grenade to use as planned. No one would take kindly to a foreigner who knocked off one of thier men of power, no matter how desperate his situation was. Better to destroy the body and let them think that Andy disappeared on his own. Matthias smiled and again tried on his ever-useful accent "Thank you. This will be satisfactory." He lowered the pistol and the gimp visibly relaxed and started to withdraw "The credits are already in my account. I thank you for your business." Andy G. turned his back one last time. He half-expected the 3 bullets to come as he turned. Andy's last thought was that he hated being right. Matthias sighed, primed the grenade, and tossed it onto the dead man's back. It was set for 15 seconds. He walked out the front with a calm demeanor and a brisk pace. The place behind him burst like a molotov cocktaill.
Now he had what he needed, the pieces were in place, and he was going to transfer himself straight into the ranks of the T.S.A. Frontiersmen 88th Battalion. Matthias grinned as he readjusted his glasses to handle the insanely bright flare of the burning structure. The easy part was dealt with. Now for the challenge. The part of the job Matthias was in it for.
Sorry for the pacing - I always get off to a slow start, but I promise there will be more action in the next post. He is a Marine now. And I'll also be exploring from another character's viewpoint, a Marine this time. And maybe a Kharaa. <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html//emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif' /><!--endemo-->
[LOST STATION RECOVERY MISSION <station ID=MAM0024>]
[MISSION ELAPSED TIME MINUS TRANSIT: 00:05:59]
Cpl. Hennesy, Clifford B.: Alright, ore transfer clear... Gozalez, move up on the right... Parker, cover that door. Alright.
Cpt. Morra, Luke: Slow down, team. Check those corners people. I'm hearing some Skulk activity.
Cpl. Hennesy, Clifford B.: Alright. We're moving into lower access corridor REF22... Pretty heavy bacterium presense, uh, looks like we're coming up on a, uh, Hive location... Don't touch that ****, Al! {unindentified noise} Whoa! Commander, we've got major flooding in <TRANSMISSION INTERFERENCE>... ... ... -esus Christ! Fire! Fire!
Cpt. Morra, Luke: Corporal Hennesy, what is your status? I've lost you on the command map, what the hell is going on down there?!"
... ... ...
Pvt. Gonzalez, Alberto T.: {panting}... ... ... <VITALS CRITICAL> Commander... Comm... I - can't move. {sharp groan} Medpack! Ohmigod, oh my God! Noooo! {unidentified noise}
<SOLDIER LOST>
Cpt. Morra, Luke: ****! ****! ****! I can't see any of you! What the hell?
<SOLDIER LOST>
<SOLDIER LOST>
[MISSION ELAPSED TIME MINUS TRANSIT: 00:24:03]
Cpl. Hunter, Matthew C.: Commander? At last! Thought I was the only one left...
Cpt. Morra, Luke: What the hell happened?!
... ... ...
Cpt. Morra, Luke: Soldier! Report, ****!
Cpl. Hunter, Matthew C.: Well... we were about to enter the REF22 passage but when we opened the door a _huge_ wave knocked most of us down. And it didn't stop coming, either. I think there was some kind of new bacteria in the water, because <TRANSMISSION INTERFERENCE> -ore comm breakup near it. And a few Skulks were surfing in it. Something bigger too, something I've never seen before. I need assistance badly... I'm in a power conduit but I only have a few inches to move in any direction without falling in the water. <VOICE ANALYSIS INDICATES LIE> I don't think they know I'm here. Is our infantry portal still active? Habinowski also made it out but we split at a Y-juntion running from the wave. I don't think anyone else is alive...
Cpt. Morra, Luke: Stay there, I'm on my way. This mission is FUBAR, this kind of equipment failure has never happened before. But I'm on my way. I'm coming down. Habinowski's last known position right here-
Cpl. Hunter, Matthew C.: But Commander... watch out. The big one hasn't returned to its nest yet.
... ... ...
{unidentified noise}
<SOLDIER LOST>
Meh, an experiment. Next post will be from an alien viewpoint.