SPECIALIST STORIES

Fated Path

LOG: December 2048

Nothing about this job has been easy. In fact, when Oz first asked me to take it on, I refused. I had no sympathy for the Thousand Petal Coalition’s agenda. They claimed they were like the No-Pats, forgotten and abandoned. We never carried anger like this. We both believed our causes were just, but I never knew a No-Pat to be so consumed by our own doctrine. 

But Oz needed someone on the inside to understand if the threat was real… and his contact said they needed a mechanic. The best. Fate drew the short straw for me. 

I kept quiet, at least at first, and listened. Earned trust, rose through the ranks, all while reporting what I learned to Oz. As time passed, trapped within this echo chamber of hate, it began to consume me. I understood them. I was just playing my part, before it began to play me. 

After several months, what felt like years, I joined the 9th battalion, and my reports to Oz grew infrequent. I began to withhold information. Could I trust him? Would the masquerade give way? Was it still a masquerade? The doctrine was taking over.

Then one morning I received an anonymous transmission. They claimed to be a friend who needed my help. “Something is happening, and we believe it starts in Chile,” they said. How they knew about the Coalition’s plans, I did not know. Then they shared the file with me. Arkangel, Boreas, and so much more. From Irish. A mutual friend… my old friend. Like a shot of adrenaline, I woke from the nightmare.

The voice said three former Exodus specialists were also deploying, on both sides of the conflict: Sundance, Crawford, Blasco. It had been years since I’d seen any of them and here we were, about to come to blows on the battlefield. Fate providing me with a path, perhaps? “Find them. Irish says we can trust them. We will need all of your help for what’s to come.” 

As we prepare to land in Chile, this fight feels different. A turning point. With the rise of the Coalition, it is as if the future is unfolding before us. 

Stitch Up

LOG: September 2048

They came for me at 0400. Baiting the squad was easy - they are mercenaries hired to extract individuals under duress. Making myself Boreas’ target, on the other hand, had taken weeks.

We reached the island in six hours. Processing in the lab was a checklist of simple, degrading cruelties, but the hardest part was not telling the No-Pats next to me in line that help had finally arrived.

The bag my contact said would be waiting for me had an anonymizing Boreas Containment Services suit and a loaded pistol, along with laboratory ID. To the artificial intelligence overseeing this place, I was now invisible, integrated.

Now I need to find out the truth about what Arkangel is doing here. I need to survive long enough for Irish and the others to realize something has gone horribly wrong.

So, here’s to survival.

- Ji-Soo Paik

SEARCH PARTY

06.03.2048

0600

The pilot estimates our flight time from New London to Zlín at about 2 hours. When we land, Greenland’s orders are to make contact with the Moravian Guard and find out what they know about the transmission. Our priority is to find the source and decode it. Maybe then I’ll get an answer.

That’s what the voice on the other end of the line promised me. Still have no idea who could hack my comms like that. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d been sold a lie about my son. What could I do? I would follow a million lies if it meant one day finding the truth: finding him.

I can hear Dozer recording a message to his family. I was surprised he signed up for this. He’s got a good deal going with the ERF–steady money, a house, kids in school. Why risk it? Guess we all have our reasons. 

Boris’ was survival. Scheiße–I actually felt sorry for him toiling away on that farm. Everything broke down–ground hard as ice. He would have died had he stayed. He knew it.

As for Casper, he’s been a closed book, same as always. I can’t help worrying. This war has been raging for years, but only now does Oz send Casper–one of his best. It has to be the transmission. What do you know, Oz?

I should run the others through the mission one last time. As squad leader it’s up to me to choose our designation. I'm no good at names, but Irish had one for us: Tombstone.

M. Falck