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The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 11-11-2009
//The chapter before this one is here. This is the second part.
815 AS.
"Don't you think he's weird ma'am?" Commander Elias James Turner questioned his superior officer. He had heard of Anderson before, she never left anyone behind and that had given her quite a reputation. That, and she was easy to approach.
"When you hold power of that magnitude you cannot perceive everything as we do." Commodore Sophia Anderson responded, whilst raising an eyebrow to question how Turner had used ma'am.
"Power? He holds an attainable rank." Turner continued, this time dropping the formality with a smile.
"Not like that, a different power. You know what I mean." Anderson replied knowingly.
Both of them knew the conversation had come to an end. Firstly, because Turner knew exactly what Anderson meant when they were talking about the Admiral. Secondly, they were outside the hall on Toledo that functioned as the office for Xander Aaron Ainsley Augustus Jacen Bastian Eadbhard Alexander Qayshon Dabney von Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorf, the Admiral both of them were talking about, and would be talking to.
The doors opened on cue, not letting them pause for even a second with their stride.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 11-12-2009
815 AS.
They walked into the ornate hall where the meeting was supposed to take place. It was rather dark. The reason was yet to be discussed and Anderson was itching to get back on the grid.
Anderson sat down at the seat in front of the Admiral's desk. Turner sat in the seat beside her. There was at least three metres of table between them and the Admiral as well as two bodyguards standing diagonally behind the Admiral, twenty five metres away from the desk.
"Congratulations on your promotion." The voice of the Admiral tried to be as warm as possible, but it still sounded serious, like it was all business and no play. It also echoed around the hall. He had seen too much in his years. "You have also been re-assigned of course."
"Re-assigned?" Turner questioned out of shock, before realising he has spoken out of turn. "Sorry Sir."
"Yes, James, re-assigned. You have been promoted after all." X continued. "Commodore Anderson, a new prototype reconnaissance vessel will come under your command, and Commander Turner here will be your second in command."
He spoke as if everything was already taken care of, and it was. "Your crew has already been selected, with a few exceptions. We will have people to fill these positions of course, and you need not worry about them."
X then sighed.
"Sir?" Anderson questioned knowing a big bombshell was going to come out of it.
"You were both selected for your special operations training and command training. Other members of the crew were selected because they are the best at what they do as well." X began to explain. "That is because you need to be the best of the best at what you do."
X sighed again, rubbing his temples and then running his hand through his hair. He realised he was not making much sense.
"Your orders are quite simple. Wipe out any infected units, specifically, units within The Order itself. You are authorised to kill anyone that may pose a threat to The Order. Even me." X said the last two words with a solemn face, then his face relaxed as if in defeat. "We are crumbling from within, more and more of the infected try to infiltrate us, and sooner or later, if not already, they will succeed. At this point in time, and from now on, you answer to no-one."
Turner's face looked as if he had just found a nomad in his shoe. Anderson's face looked as if she was trapped under a boulder. X's face looked as if he had shot two of his men. However, another man had entered the hall quietly whilst Anderson's orders were being given, and he was smiling.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 11-16-2009
815 AS.
The man in question held a rank of an ensign, though ranks were irrelevant to his purpose. He also held the name of Andraste Fionnlagh. He was part of Sophia Anderson's crew and his purpose was quite simple. If any individual needed to be eliminated, in person, it would be his purpose.
"This is Andraste Fionnlagh. He is an ensign who is part of your crew Commodore." X introduced the smiling man while he rose out of his seat.
The bodyguards tensed as X rose and Anderson wondered why she was being introduced to such a low ranking agent of The Order. Turner had already figured it out.
"He will explain his purpose while he leads you to see the shipyard where your vessel is being constructed. This meeting is now over." X bowed slightly. "Have a nice day."
"Admiral, uhh?" Turner questioned, not knowing that X was not up for further communication.
"It will be ready for flight sometime in 816 AS. You have my assurance on that. In the meantime, concentrate on upping your skills. You're going to need them." X bowed once again.
Turner gulped. Anderson watched intensely. Nothing more happened in terms of words. They both bowed slightly and walked away from the desk, following Fionnlagh.
Fionnlagh's smile decreased in size as he led the two superior officers towards the shipyard. "Superior only in rank."
His cynicism was what kept him alive so long. "Always expect the worst."
He too had been given a job by X, and he would carry it out to the very end, at any cost.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 02-10-2010
816 AS.
Due to time constraints and the courses that each commanding officer had to complete before being able to take command of The Hedge, the two commanding officers would only permanently arrive on the ship the day before it launched. Having said that, they had met most of the crew in the various visits they had made to the drydock to inspect the ship.
Anderson's pre-command plight involved participating in further tactical training, a course held personally by X to tutor her on how to command an assassination unit. Turner's was more voluntary, he decided to spend time in combat simulation, as well as practising on the range. He also intended to further his skills in hand-to-hand combat training, but there was not enough time. As usual, Fionnlagh led them to the shipyard where their vessel lay in the drydock.
Arata Takuma was right near the main personnel entrance to the ship fixing the communication panel on the wall, when Anderson, Turner and Fionnlagh entered. He immediately stood upright and bowed. As per the the Order's code, for a person of a lower rank working on the ship, there was no need for a salute or even acknowledgement. However, Takuma was a man of honour.
Anderson and Turner nodded curtly. Fionnlagh walked straight on. He could not understand the Kusari man and whilst he did not dislike the man, he disliked not being able to decipher him.
Takuma bowed again, at the door at the end of the entrance's corridor, where the three walked through, even though no-one would see it. He did not require the gesture to be seen anyway. His honour was evaluated by himself, and only himself, in his eyes.
"What is that"? Turner questioned Fionnlagh on the strangest device occupying all the space in what should have been the secondary command centre.
"I have no idea Sir, but she does." Elizabeth Boehme now came into the picture, after her brisk introduction by Fionnlagh. "If you will excuse me Ma'am, I have duties for the Admiral before we launch."
Anderson's eyebrow raised by just a fraction of a hair. "Go ahead."
"Elizabeth Boehme." Boehme held out her hand. Anderson and Turner shook it. If they were asked about it later, both would agree on the fact that it felt as if Boehme was bouncing up and down on the spot.
"We know. Nice file." Anderson alluded to the fact that Boehme's file was much like Fionnlagh's; it existed, and all the i's were dotted and t's crossed, but there was something missing.
"Well, I am full of surprises Commodore." Boehme beamed. Anderson nodded. She had been assured by X that Boehme was very useful. Turner also nodded solemnly. He knew all the specifics of just how useful she was.
"Anyway, since we have been introduced and all, I operate this contraption. Oh, and the extremely polite Kusari man you no doubt saw on your way here does as well. He oversees the communications bit, while I run the other operations in it."
"Other operations?" Anderson said sharply, moving Turner's face from a solemn rock to an interested rock.
"A bit hard to explain, but it finds things for us. Mainly useful information. Get the ship close enough to anything, and I can tell you all about it and access anything electronically stored within it, even command it." Boehme beamed as she said it.
"No exceptions?" Anderson was taught nothing was perfect.
"Everything can be gotten or gotten to, the question is time." Boehme knew that if you put your mind to it, anything was possible.
Anderson thought for a while. "Well, we need to get settled in. Get the crew assembled in the main hall, I will address everyone once I freshen up and finish setting up. That will be two hours from now."
"Will do." Boehme casually moved away, whistling lightly.
Turner and Anderson went to their respective rooms. They came out one hour and 45 minutes later, read out their individual speeches in ten minute blocks, ate dinner, and went back to their cabins. Some members of the crew followed suit.
The other members did not; some were just finishing their last minute preparations. Von Ormstein was replacing a broken gear in the secondary engine lift, Fionnlagh was playing war-games in his head, plotting out the various scenarios that could take place if The Order was defeated, Takuma sat in The Bubble fine-tuning his transmission interception equipment to eliminate the leftover disruption caused by space dust which he had not removed before, whilst Boehme sat next to him, eating food that crunched loudly in an effort to break his concentration, and last of all, Cyrus sat in the medical bay, lying on a casualty bed wondering whether he would ever work out the method to a goal he had in mind.
Some other members of the crew adjusted electronics, re-tuned the guns, moved their beds around and removed cumbersome doors as well as performing some other minor actions. However, in truth, everyone on the ship was playing the waiting game. The ship would launch tomorrow morning.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 03-24-2010
815 AS.
"Let us see. Ahh, yes, this way." Fionnlagh purposely pretended to get lost in the maze of corridors in the shipyard. He did not have to delay the presentation of the ship's shell to the two people he was going to show it to. He simply wanted to appear less intelligent than he was. After all, he was trained to deceive everyone, since no-one could be trusted.
In a gigantic bay, stood the giant hulk of steel that would one day be the Maahes-1OX, affectionately known as "The Hedge", whose job it was to mark and patrol the boundaries of what separates the infected and the resistance. Even as an empty shell it stood impressively, as if holding up it's head in defiance of the difficulty of the task it had.
Anderson and Turner followed Fionnlagh round. A Rheinlander, obvious as being one from his hulking frame, stood over a group of men who were working at the back of the ship shell, barking orders. His face looked tired, his hands worn and his eyes were intense with a fire that would always burn. His body had seen too many battles, but his mind was as sharp as ever. Wilhelm Von Ormstein was a man whose presence could cripple an Anubis, and if that failed him, his arms could certainly compensate for it. In one year, his job would be to make sure the vessel before him ran regardless of what happened. For now however, he would build that vessel.
A man was walking towards the trio which had entered the ship-building bay a few minutes ago. Fionnlagh had his hand to his side and was preparing to draw his blaster. Anderson was tensed, as if expecting something and was wondering whether or not to draw her own blaster. Turner still had not picked up the presence. Fionnlagh drew his blaster and whirled around.
In front of him stood a man completely covered in a biological suit. He was carrying a stopwatch. "Very good Andy, very good. A markable improvement."
Fionnlagh holstered his blaster and rolled his eyes, before introducing the man to Anderson and Turner. "This, would be our medical officer, Eran Cyrus." His pause after his first word allowed his left hand to mark out the length of Cyrus. "He needs to stop doing that, or one day, he may just get shot."
Cyrus laughed. "Oh Andy, there was only a 37% chance you would shoot me. I am more worried about our newest commanding officer. Did you know that statistically there was an 89% chance you would shoot me Commodore?" The doctor questioned Anderson.
"You will find that if this nonsense continues that figure will increase." Anderson responded coldly. Her heart was pounding and her cheeks were flushed. The doctor raised his eyebrow.
"Well, perhaps it would be wise to stop when one is ahead. Either way, Commander Turner, if you would mind accompanying me, we have a few things to discuss." The doctor's playful tone was gone. It was not icy, but it was serious. It commanded respect. Turner looked at Fionnlagh and Anderson. Both gave their nod of approval. He followed the doctor.
Fionnlagh then led Anderson out of the bay. He took her to a room which he had previously swept for bugs. It was here that Sophia Anderson would find out what made Andraste Fionnlagh an essential member of her crew and why X had made sure he was a part of it. It was here that she learnt why Andraste Fionnlagh would be the last line of defence should everyone else fail.
Anderson came out of the room looking pale. She could not believe her eyes or ears. Fionnlagh came out of the room looking resolute. He could not believe he needed to scuff his left shoe again. A few floors down, Commander James Elias Turner finished getting briefed by Eran Cyrus. He too could not believe his eyes or ears and needed some time to process the information before him.
Both commanding officers would soon come to realise just how big the task before them was, and how the wheels of motion had been set long before for them to deal with it.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 04-08-2010
815 AS.
"I see why you do not trust yourself, yet you trust the ensign attached my ship so much." Anderson challenged X, in his private office. There were no guards present this time, just the Admiral and the Commodore. It was night, as decided by the rotation of Toledo.
The appointment had been secured with little fuss. Whilst many had to wait in line, his newly created reconnaissance and assassination overwatch fleet members took first priority.
"I see he has followed his orders, as they have been given." X responded, calmly. He understood her confusion, disbelief and anger.
"Given? Right." Anderson sighed. "He will be useful though. I have to admit, I did not think we had come that far."
"We haven't. Andraste Fionnlagh does not exist." X watched Anderson's confused face. "Well, in a way. He has a file. He has a rank. He exists on the physical plane. However, all information is false, and his real clearance is hidden behind a mask. He has no goals apart from those given to him, and believe me he will achieve those goals."
"I have no doubt about that." Anderson replied dryly. When she had last talked to Fionnlagh she realised why he was so essential to the mission. She decided to change the topic.
"So, what if that day does come?" Anderson probed, trying to reassure herself.
"Then do as you have been ordered to do. Locate. Eliminate. Survive." X repeated a phrase which he had coined.
Both of them sighed.
There was a buzz. It was for the door. One of the old-school security check's in place should the new ones fail. X pressed the button underneath his desk. He already knew who was at the door.
James Elias Turner came in and stood to attention. X nodded. Turner loosened his position.
"Sir, how can we trust her?" He started without warning or greeting. Two of them knew they were talking about Boehme. Anderson was in the dark, literally and metaphorically.
"Commodore Anderson, the person Commander Turner refers to is Elizabeth Boehme, an NCO aboard your ship. For now, all you need to know, is to trust her." X answered Anderson's thoughts. "You may leave now Commodore, you need your rest."
Anderson knew it was time to leave. She stood to attention, nodded, and strode out the door. She did not bother to turn to shut it quietly.
X leveled his gaze at Turner. Turner opened his mouth in slight shock, and then closed it again. He did not realise Anderson did not know.
"We do not trust anyone, Commander." The answer was so simplistic it would make most rack their minds. It meant to use whatever resources were available, but to be prepared to operate without that resource and be able to protect yourself from that resource.
Turner stood to attention and nodded. Then, he too strode out the door, but he turned to catch it and close it quietly. His question was answered, and he did not want to anger X.
Anderson went to the bar wondering what Boehme had up her sleeve. Turner went to bed, not being able to get sleep knowing what Boehme had up her sleeve. X lowered his gaze. His face relaxed. He knew all that he needed to, and soon he would know a lot more.
"Never put all your eggs in one basket. You are not the only chance for salvation TSF." X sat back in his chair with a cup of water in his left hand. It was almost freezing, but it did little to cool the fire burning in his mind. He was thinking, and that was the worst thing possible, for those who opposed him.
The Chronicles of X. - n00bl3t - 04-12-2010
816 AS.
"So, the last one launched, right?" A simple captain of The Order sat before X. There were three meters of desk between them. The guards were present this time, but they were already aware of the contents of the discussion. It was the plan for the unplanned end-game. The end-game which X only considered because he had to. The end-game if he failed. The end-game if The Order should fail.
"Small talk, but yes, it did." X responded. The man before him was not a calculating genius to help draft out the plan. The man before him was the one saddled with the task. The task which would take his own life but would save many others.
"You might as well indulge me Admiral." The simple captain referred to the fact that he would die if this plan ever took effect. He knew he was not a master tactician or commander and would never ascend past his current rank before he died and he had sworn to protect humanity. That meant risking his life every day. These orders made little difference to him.
"If." X stressed the word with a semblance of emotion. Then he became his emotionless self again. The man before him may have been lower than him in intelligence, but he valued the man highly. He was going to sacrifice his life to save The Order, but more importantly, this man was one of the original men in The Order. A man who helped found it, but had kept in the shadows. A man who did his job without recognition, because everyone else wanted fame. A man worthy of his respect.
The men drank their drinks in silence for a while. They both had water. The only difference was the temperature.
"I may not know much Admiral, but I know that you have more than just one idea. When will the other egg be popping in?" The simple captain sipped the last remaining bit of water in his glass. He knew that X always had multiple plans, and that every second of his life X was thinking. He also knew that someone else would visit X after him and yet another plan would see fruition. Such was X in his eyes.
X turned around and smiled. It said more than any amount of words could. The captain stood up, nodded and left the room. Whilst he walked away he recalled how he had never seen the Admiral ever smile.
The conversation that they had was about The Hedge; the last ship of the unknown TSF squadron launching. Both people who had sat at the table knew of it's purpose.
X dismissed the guards and sat at his table, sipping the almost frozen water. His main two plans would be in effect in the next 24 hours. One in case everything went wrong and one to make sure everything did not go wrong. Now his other plans would take effect. The multitude of plans that supported the main plan and ensured nothing went wrong.
That morning a simple captain of The Order returned to his vessel after having a late night at the bar. At least, that was what the crew believed. His vessel was in drydock getting it's new engine installed because the old one was faulty. At least, that is what everyone else believed. The simple captain looked at it and sighed. It was the ultimate sacrifice but it had a purpose. That is what the captain believed. Only one of these beliefs was right, and only time would tell which one.