//------------------------------// // Chapter 14: That Was Going to Be Boring // Story: See the Zone and Survive // by RoadRunneR //------------------------------// Chapter 14 That was going to be Boring I groaned and shifted in my bed, causing the sheets to ruffle, troubling the silence of my bedroom. Turning around, I noticed I was alone on this morning… once again. Snag was missing and his gear had disappeared from where it was before, next to mine against the nearest wall to the exit. With a sigh, I sat up, scratching my beard, knowing he was at his duties already. To be frank, I found that he took his job of Warrant Officer way too seriously, we rarely shared any moments together anymore… he was always working, giving orders to his troops or doing paperwork. I scratched my back and stood up. There was no need for self-pity, I would just have to talk to him whenever he got the time. Chasing these gloomy thoughts out of my head, I grabbed my equipment and proceeded to gear up. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the usual sight of my Celestia, her head rested against my chest, still asleep. I would always wake up before her, I had noticed, the only few exceptions being when I had been up most of the night prior. In these occasions, she’d been the one waking me up, usually by nuzzling my face. Smiling at the thought, I brought a hand to my princess’s neck and began stroking her soft coat tenderly. “Wakey wakey, my little snowball,” I softly whispered in her ear, playing with the appendage with my fingers. Celestia let out a groan, fluttered her eyelids and stirred, causing the sheets covering the both of us to ruffle. “Stop that,” she muttered, flicking her ears back and forth, trying to escape my fingers. I let out a laugh. “Tsk tsk tsk. I know you love it.” My alicorn said nothing and moved closer to me, bringing her muzzle right under my chin. With a smile, I raised a hand and plunged it into her flowing mane, only to slowly massage the back of her head. We were interrupted a few minutes later when someone knocked at our door. “Hey come out you two! It’s eight in the morning, the sun’s already up and we gotta be to Hermann’s in an hour!” came Vano’s voice. I gave Celestia’s head one last stroke and let my arm fell limp with a sigh. “We are coming,” I replied aloud. “Just let us time to prepare.” “You two are still in bed, aren’t you?” asked Vano from the other side of the door. “...” “Maybe?” I heard a grunt of exasperation from my friend in the corridor. “Move your asses, I’m getting this show on the road.” After that, I heard the sound of footsteps moving away from our door. Once the sound had faded out, I turned towards Celestia. “It looks like the snuggles are over,” I stated, kissing my princess’s forehead. Celestia stirred and groaned. “Yeah… today is a big day,” she recalled, nuzzling my neck. Letting out a breath, I sat up. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” I offered, patting my alicorn’s side. My helmet under my arm and my machine gun in hand, I headed for the hangar of our factory turned base. I knew that if we were to make the trip to the scientists’ bunker in less than an hour, we had to go faster than on foot. Also, the ice that still persisted in some places would hinder our progress, and to be honest, I didn’t want to trek halfway across the Zone -which was as dangerous as usual- while buried ankle-deep into a cold, wet layer of half-melted ice mixed with mud. So of course, we had to prepare a means of transportation. Fortunately, I had gathered some experience by leading an entire section of the Dawn faction by myself. You could say I had changed… I noticed that, lately: I now have some… sense of duty. So, I went ahead and prepared everything for our trip before waking up the two lovebirds, albeit reluctantly. A few months before, I would have ditched everything for him. Maybe I should. With a sigh and a half- hearted smile, I entered the vehicle workshop. The usual smells of oil, gasoline and heated metal met my nostrils and my ears where assaulted by the constant noise of tools banging, whirring, clicking and the revving of big diesel engines being tested. I headed for a BTR, on which three men clad in blue jumpsuits were working. “Viktor! Dmitrii! Anton! Is our taxi ready?” I shouted over the cacophony that reigned in the place. The three men snapped at attention and saluted. I raised an appeasing hand. “At ease, men. Is everything ready?” Dmitri, our pilot, nodded. “Pochti, Mayor! Only need to load ammunition!” I scratched my beard. “Good. Get back to work, we’re departing in ten minutes!” I announced, turning around  and walking towards a small wooden crate laying on the ground. “Ser, tak totchno!” I sat down on the crate, laid my machine gun next to me and opened a pack of cigarettes, before I took one and lit it up with a lighter I produced from a pouch on my chest. From my position, I observed the men work on the BTR, barking orders at each other, drowned in the noise of the place. To be honest I don’t like these vehicles. They are noisy, the inside is small and cramped and they are costly to maintain, especially ammunition-wise. 14.5 mm rounds are difficult to get by - even with the huge soviet stockpiles our resuppliers get them from - and each of these BTRs have five hundred of them as standard load, which costed us a pretty penny when we had to equip our IFVs for combat. And that’s not even counting the rest of the armament and the electronics. And to think we still had to arm out tanks. I was pulled out of my thoughts by the arrival of Strider and Celly, who entered the room the very moment I flicked away the still smoking butt of my cigarette. Both were geared up and walked at a hastened pace. I stood up and saluted. “Colonel. General.” “At ease, Major,” ordered Celly. “Is everything ready?” she half-asked, half yelled over the noise of the workshop. “A small team of my Rangers will be escorting us, they are waiting for us at the main gate and…” I held up a finger. “...one moment,” I uttered, before turning towards the BTR and crouching next to the small door on the left side. “Gospoda! Vse li gatova?” I asked, sticking my head inside the armored vehicle. The pilot, who was sitting in his seat next to his navigator, glanced back towards me and the engine of the BTR started with a loud diesel growl. The gunner, seated sideways behind the both of them, shook a joystick on the console that was suspended from the ceiling in front of him, eliciting a hydraulic hiss from the gun turret above. “Vse gotovo,” he replied with a smile. I gave the BTR crew a nod and stood up from the vehicle. “Everything’s ready!” I announced to Strider and Celly, turning towards them. “We can get in, our escort is waiting for us.” With that, leaned forwards and entered the armored vehicle. Well, not as much entered as pried my way in, you get the image. These vehicles, as I said, are quite small inside, and so are their openings. While most people had little to no trouble passing through the small doors, I almost had to wriggle my way in, getting stuck on several occasions. By the time I managed to get inside, Strider and Celly had used the door on the other side of the BTR and were already seated, looking at me with amused expressions. I stared at the both of them. “No comment,” I sighed, sitting down with difficulty next to the gunner. I’d like to amend my previous statement: I don’t just ‘dislike’ BTRs, I loathe them. The armored vehicle grumbled forwards, leaving the hangar. I yawned and looked my alicorn, who had preferred to lay down on the floor of the cabin. She had crossed her forelegs and rested her head on them, as if sleeping. I sighed and smiled tenderly at the sight, before I looked at Vano, who was seated in front of me on the other side of the cabin. Well, he was almost folded in half, but he was in a seat, at least. His face bore a contrite expression, his arms were crossed on his lap and his chin almost rested on them, while the top of his head occasionally hit the ceiling when our ride hit a bump in the road. “You look glum,” I observed, leaning forwards. My tall friend stared at the floor, sighed and scratched his beard, before he looked at me. “First off, I’m not comfortable, you can see. Then… then there’s a more personal matter.” I nodded, unsure of what was coming. “I see. Go on.” Vano sighed. “Later,” was his only answer. I gave my friend a concerned glance before I leaned back and gathered my guns vertically in front of me. The BTR stopped abruptly, causing Celestia to shoot up in surprise. The doors on the sides opened and four men, bearing the insignia of Vano’s Rangers, entered the armored vehicle one after another from both openings. In less than a minute, all of them were in their seats, and the BTR rumbled forwards once again. On my right, the gunner tapped on the radioman’s shoulder, who nodded and took a microphone from the dashboard in front of him. “Dawn Control, Dawn Control, this is Tortoise One; over” he spoke with a thick accent in the device. “Tortoise One, this is Control; come in,” came the reply. “Control, Tortoise One; We have Whiskey Sierra, Lima Echo, Papa Bravo and four Romeos onboard, how copy?” “Tortoise One, Control; I copy: White Swan, Long Eyes, Papa Bear and four Rangers onboard. Over.” “Control, from Tortoise one; Correct. Requesting permission to leave the base, over.” “Tortoise One, Control; permission granted. Don’t die out there, over.” “Control, this is Tortoise one; Wilco. Out.” After this exchange, the radio operator put the microphone back down and signaled the driver to get going. The BTR engine growled and we began to roll forwards once again, this time leaving the homebase of our faction. The trip to our destination took somewhere between thirty and forty five minutes, I couldn’t remember exactly, seeing as I nodded off barely five minutes in. The metallic floor may not have been exactly comfortable, but the peaceful -albeit very loud- growl of the diesel engine and the bumps in the road proved enough to lull me into a slumber from which I only woke up when I felt a hand pat my side. I raised my head and fluttered my eyelids, getting rid of the sleepiness I felt. The cabin was empty save for Strider, who was crouched right next to me, and Vano who was comically trying to fit through the exit of the BTR. “We have arrived,” announced Strider, a slight smile on his face. I stood up, keeping my head low as not to hit the ceiling of the cramped armored vehicle, and returned my boyfriend’s smile, before I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Nobody could see us, I could allow myself to such an act. To be fair, him being my direct subordinate in the faction hierarchy could make our public relationship quite awkward at times. Without a word, we parted and I followed him outside the vehicle. The air in this morning was rather warm, considering the season, I could have gone without my scarf. I shrugged and readjusted the article of clothing around my neck. I liked it. Its beige color complimented nicely my coat and my uniform and besides, it was a gift from my love. I made sure I still had all my gear before I gave the scientists’ bunker a glance. A few Mercs were patrolling around, on the ground level and their leader -who I grew to know by the name of Hatchet- was standing atop of the structure, scanning the surrounding area with his binoculars. before I made sure I headed towards the group of Rangers that had accompanied us to our destination, only to notice that Vano was missing. I stopped in my tracks. “Wait a second.” Strider readjusted his big sniper rifle on his back, looking around. “Where is the Major?” he asked to nobody else in particular. “I’m here!” came Vano’s voice from behind the BTR we just came out of. “I’m here,” the giant repeated, this time appearing from behind the vehicle. “One thing’s sure, I’m not riding it back. We should really enlarge these doors one way or another,” he grumbled, eliciting a laugh from the Rangers besides us. I snorted and turned around, facing the laughing men. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I yelled, causing the Dawn fighters to shut up at once and snap at attention. “That’s better.” Vano turned towards his men. “Talk to the Mercs who guard the bunker, set up a defensive perimeter,” he ordered “The General, the Colonel and I are going inside.” The Rangers saluted before they dispersed, their squad leader climbing atop the bunker. I looked at Strider, who nodded silently. “Let’s go.” I opened the way, walking first towards the heavy armored door of the bunker. As soon as we reached it, Strider lowered his rifle pressed a button on the interphone. “Who is this?” asked Hermann’s voice. “Brigadier General Everfree, Colonel Strider, Major Novovich,  Dawn Faction,” announced my boyfriend. “You wanted to see us.” The heavy metal door opened with a creak. “Oh, of course. Come in,” instantaneously came the answer. I took the lead and entered the airlock, followed by Strider and Vano. Once the giant had crossed, the door closed behind us. “So, what do you have for us professor?” I asked to Hermann as I sat down of an empty workbench, next to Celestia. The brown haired scientist raised a finger. “Many, many things, Colonel,” he enigmatically replied, walking towards a projector which was linked to a computer on a desk right next to us. That’s when Ozersky entered the room, carrying a lot of devices in his arms. “A lot of info about you, Celestia,” he announced, “and maybe a way home for you.” At these words, my alicorn’s ears twitched. “Maybe?” she asked with a sigh. “We are not too sure yet, little one,” came a new voice from the door, where Novikov appeared, carrying a toolbox and an anomaly scanner. “We didn’t detect it, Kruglov and his team in Yantar did,” the bald technician added, sitting down at a table on the other side of the room where he put down his load. “We just need more data.” Following the technician-slash-scientist with my gaze, I noticed a jar full of a greenish liquid on a shelf above the table. While the liquid was bland -if suspect- in appearance, what set me off was what was inside. It was a human head. My head. It was incomplete and had a beginning of a spine dangling from its neck, lacked the stubby beard and the skull was completely barren of any hair, but that was my skull, my jaw, my face, my eyes in there. “What the fuck is this?” I asked, my horrified gaze locked onto the disgusting sight. “Oh yeah, about that,” Novikov began sheepishly. “Remember how the skin sample we took from you grew into an ear in a matter of hours? We decided to dip the inert piece of skin and cartilage into a jar full of a nutritious compound and put it in a closet. This is what we got when we checked up on it a few days later. It had used nearly everything it could to grow and went back to a vegetative state. As it stands, it’s a perfectly healthy human head, only it’s… sleeping.” “At that point, I decided to stop the experiment,” added Hermann. “I didn’t dare meddle with it, that thing is… too…” “Creepy,” interrupted Vano. I felt Celestia huddle herself closer to me. “Put that thing away, please,” she pleaded, her face buried in my side. “You heard the lady, get rid of that thing,” ordered Vano. Without a word, Hermann nodded to Novikov who silently carried the jar out of the room, only to come back almost immediately. “That was… interesting,” I broke in. “You alright?” I asked Celestia, gently stroking her soft coat. My alicorn gazed up to me, eyes wet with repressed tears. “I’ve been through worse,” she shakily replied, “but I don’t want to see that thing ever again. I prefer your head on your body.” I gave her a small smile, trying to comfort her. “Trust me, so do I.” “What’s the deal with it anyway?” asked Vano, who had opted for sitting on the floor. “Your friend’s healing… anomaly is more potent that we thought,” explained Ozersky, resetting his glasses. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we could grow an entire body out of it. We cannot just get rid of it, it would be woefully difficult and it also holds many scientific advances,” the bald scientist exposed. “It also raises a pressing ethical issue,” Hermann chimed in. “Since this… thing has a technically functional brain, are we obliged to treat it like a normal human being? If it… ‘wakes up’, are we supposed to treat it like we would treat you?” Novikov and Ozersky nodded. “Man… that’s weird,” concluded Vano after an awkward silence. “So! About that anomaly?” he asked, thankfully putting the conversation back on its rails. Ozersky shook his head, cleared his throat, readjusted his glasses and spoke up. “We know that the anomaly itself is located in the Cordon, I shit you not. And it’s huge.” “Indeed,” approved Hermann. “It has been sitting there for nearly a week since it’s been detected, and blowouts seem to have no effect on it. In itself, it’s not very strange, space bubble anomalies are known for their unpredictable nature: some act as pocket dimensions, others are one-way teleporters… or even two-way.” “That’s when we started making standard tests on it: energy levels, radiation, space-time inflation... but then we started comparing its energy signature to other anomalous data readings that we knew of, and we have found a match.” “Hold your horses,” interrupted Vano, “a match with what?” “That’s why we contacted you in the first place, lady and gentlemen,” replied the scientist, pausing to adjust his glasses. “A match with your… ‘magic’, General,” he finished, turning towards Celestia. There was a moment of silence. “What.” “And our Noosphere.” “What.” “The latent energy signature emitted by the anomaly is a 89% match with our Noosphere, and a 100% match with the energy signature of your telekinesis, little one,” answered Novikov. “We think it’s… leaking.” I raised an eyebrow. “Leaking?” “Yes,” began Hermann, perking up from the computer he was sitting at. “Allow us to demonstrate.” At these words, the lighting in the room dimmed, letting appear an image projected on the far wall of the room. the image depicted a schematic view of our planet from space, surrounded by a sort of spheric field made up of many, many lines, many of them coming from the biggest population centers. “As you all know, our planet is surrounded by the Noosphere, an energy field which is a byproduct of the humanity's sapience,” began Hermann. “We have also established that in your world, miss Everfree, the Noosphere is much, much stronger,” added Ozersky. “Given that the energy signature is virtually identical to the energy residue of your psychic powers, we thought your presence had… altered the Zone, that you involuntarily caused a disturbance that spawned the anomaly,” he explained. “That’s when we found another match. A match with our own Noosphere… which lead us to rerun our numbers. The results are clear: there’s another Noosphere on the other side of that bubble, one that matches your energy readings, Celestia. There’s another world there, populated with many, many sapient creatures.” “And a lot of them at that,” added Novikov. “Kruglov’s data shows that the energy flows only in our direction, meaning whatever is on the other side, it’s stronger,” the technician said, scratching his beard. “The flow is steady, but minor though. Nothing preoccupating.” “Hence, a leak,” finished Hermann, the picture on the wall now having changed to display a sort of wormhole through which arrows went. I turned to Celestia, who was staring at the image, frozen and speechless. I wrapped an arm around her and began to gently stroke her mane, slowly massaging the back of her head. The effect was immediate: she instantly relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding, her ears folded against her head and she leaned against me, slowly relaxing. “So we have a two-way portal, basically,” came Vano’s voice. Hermann readjusted his glasses. “Exactly. The energy and matter flow demonstrates that there is an opening in both that other world and ours.” “What are we waiting for then, let’s go!” exclaimed my bearded friend, standing up in a hurry. Ozersky sighed, holding up an appeasing hand. “It’s not that simple.” “It’s a big discovery,” admitted Novikov, looking up from his work, “but not big enough to grant us founding from the Ministry. That’s why I’m putting together a probe of sorts: if the portal works as expected, we should get a transmission from it: mainly data about the weather and atmospheric conditions. Even if chemical readings show that the gases coming from the bubble are virtually identical to our atmosphere, we don’t want to take risks. The government won’t spend money on the Zone when it’s still deciding whether or not they want to join the european union.” “Even in the case we manage to prove we can safely go between the two worlds, we would barely have more than a small military escort and little funding, we couldn’t mount a successful expedition,” Hermann sighed, before he turned towards my alicorn. “We are not sure it is a way back to your world, but there is a great possibility that it is. We are stuck, as we are. we need your support.” “You have it,” she instantly replied. “Most of our assets are used growing and solidifying our resources, but we will spare everything we can to help you,” she added, standing up. “I made my choice: if there is a chance I can go home once again, I’ll take it.” Hermann clapped his hands together. “Excellent! there is still on problem though: we need to stabilize it and make sure it won’t close on us if we ever go through.” Novikov sniffed; “I’ll come up with something. We still need to know how we’ll go through however.” “Helicopters,” offered Vano. “We found a vehicle yard, we’re getting some of them repaired. So far we got a few BTR’s, a couple of tanks and there’s a chopper that’s getting towed to base as we speak.” I nodded. “We could also ask Degtyarev. He’s got contacts in the USS and a civilian fleet where one of his friends went after he left the military.” “That’s a very good idea,” approved Hermann. “Anyways. I know this is big news, but what we have in stock is quite interesting too.” “Whatcha got?” curiously asked Vano. “Information about our little magic user,” chuckled Novikov. “Indeed,” added Hermann. “We have processed all the information we got during our examinations, and came up with some interesting results.” “Such as?” asked Celestia. “Your bones are hollow, that’s for sure,” began Ozersky. “Your body weight is too low for a standard bone structure. Your hooves are covered with a multitude of little hairs, like a gecko’s feet. That must be what allows you to pick up objects with them. Your horn is… well, a mystery. As long as we can’t get a sample, we won’t be able to understand how it works.” My alicorn nodded. “Unicorn horns are… delicate. They can heal just like the rest of the body, but they are extremely sensitive and any sort of tissue sampling would cause debilitating pain,” she explained. “Unless you have access to extremely strong anesthetics or a fresh corpse, you won’t be able to take a sample.” “A shame,” Hermann deplored. “We don’t have surgical equipment, no corpses at hand… and I’m opposed to making one.” Novikov humphed. “We’re not barbarians.” “That’ll have to wait until we get better equipment or until we go through that bubble,” shrugged Ozersky. “But we’re digressing here. One of the most surprising things about you, miss Everfree, is your eyes.” I smiled, looking at my princess's stunning eyes. “I know, they are beautiful, but they are… not logical.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” rebutted Ozersky. “These eyes baffled us for a while, until one of our Mercs suggested they weren’t round.” “Huh.” “Yes, our theory is that they are human-like, but much, much flatter, like a shark or a bird’s eye. Also, he irises can change size. Go figure.” Novikov turned away from his work, looking at my alicorn. “How do you manage to have such a mobility range with those is still beyond us, but there is no other way that there is any room left in your skull for a brain, little one.” Celestia shrugged her wings. “My ponies never even tried to study anatomy, most of our medicine comes from magic and old traditions. Even today, we’re still barely scratching the surface of what medicine can do.” “And there’s a very good reason for that,” Ozersky almost interrupted. “Your immune system is… fascinating: your white blood cell count is literally off the charts, we had to make new ones to represent your analysis,” he said, as the projected picture changed once again, showing a graph with two curve, one dwarfing the other by several times. “We have it here, compared to a healthy human’s. Your immune system is ten times as efficient as a human’s, while your wound healing rate is nearly five times faster.” “That’s because I’m an alicorn, though I wouldn’t doubt that ponies in general are more resilient that humans, health-wise; even more so Earth ponies.” Hermann stood up from behind the computer. “Yes, that is why we are so interested in studying your world. While the Zone can lead to breakthroughs in the domains of physics and chemistry, nothing compares to what we could do for medicine if we could harness the prowess of your kind’s immune system.” “But what could you offer to my ponies?” asked Celestia with an unreadable expression I didn’t know she could make. “Agricultural advancement, medicine, surgery… antibiotics. I fear these gifts will be limited, due to obvious reasons though. After all, if you don’t know your own anatomy, there’s only so much you help you with surgery,” Hermann argued. “Maybe we’ll be able to bring new ideas, new manufacturing methods. No weapons though.” Celestia pursed her lips. “I wasn't planning on developing warfare, though I suppose you could help us with industry. My ponies are so backwards compared to other countries in that domain.” Vano sighed. “Can we leave the manigances? I mean, we’re faced with a big problem: we’ll have to make first contact,” he reminded. “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it,” shrugged Ozersky. “Just gotta make sure we appear as peaceful, right?” “Of course,” approved Celestia, “though we’ll have to bring backup. I don’t know what happened during this year, and Equestria, though peaceful, has its enemies. With me gone, who knows what might have happened.” I took a deep breath, resuming to stroke my princess’s neck. “Everything will be alright, I am sure,” I whispered, leaning to give her a kiss behind her damaged ear. “I hope so.” The discussion continued on for a good half hour, mostly about scientific discoveries that very much interested Celestia but held little interest to me. I stayed silent, idly petting my love’s mane, lost in thought. We had a more-than-likely way to Celestia’s world… unexpected, but not unwelcome. We had thought about mounting an expedition there, but now we were more or less forced to work with the scientists… unwelcomed, but not necessarily a bad thing. After all, our scientific division could not simply compare to what these government-mandated scholars knew and could do. After a while, the conversation dwindled down and we saluted the scientists, before leaving their lab. “So what are we supposed to do now?” I asked as we got out of the bunker, the metal door slamming shut behind us with a creak. “We wait,” simply answered Vano, adjusting his helmet. “We keep developing our faction, we need to be strong if we are to organize a trip to another world. After all, we will have to leave some troops here so our operation keeps running smoothly.” I nodded and turned around, signaling my Rangers to regroup around our BTR, before I headed for the roof of the bunker, my helmet under my arm and my balaclava in it. There, I headed for the merc wearing an exoskeleton, who I knew was the head of the group in charge of security detail. “Hatchet, right?” I asked, extending a hand in greetings “You are in charge of the security detail here?” The power-armoured Merc turned towards me, holstered his weapon and took off his helmet, tucking it under his arm. “Security detail is pushing it,” he replied with a chuckle. “All we do is guarding the bunker against the occasional threat. Boring, but well paid so the boys don’t complain,” he added, shaking my hand. “And you are?” “Colonel Strider, Dawn faction.” “Colonel, eh?” asked the Merc, eyebrow raised. “Fancy.” I shrugged, letting go of the man’s hand. “We had to put a hierarchy in place when our faction grew in size,” I deadpanned. “I figured that Colonel had a nice ring to it, without being too pretentious,” I added with a smirk. “Still, I’m technically under Celestia’s orders despite-” “Despite you banging her?” mirthfully interrupted Hatchet. I blinked a few times in surprise. “I would not have put it like that, but yes,” I replied, looking at the Merc commander. “Is it common knowledge around here?” The mercenary let go of his rifle and rummaged a pouch on his vest, producing a pack of smokes from it. “Pretty much, yeah. Your Celestia is famous, even more so than you,” he answered. “Mostly because she’s… not human, she’s also got a few nicknames like Lead from Above, The White Reaper or the Angel of Death, but I’d wager you already know that.” I nodded wordlessly, only half-surprised at my princess's notoriety. “There’s that,” Hatchet continued, “and well, she’s a she. Pussy is the only real anomaly here,” he added with a laugh. “Smoke?” he asked, offering me a cigarette. “Brown tobacco. Imported, not the half-weed-half-tobacco-half-dried-grass crap Hawaiian sells.” “Yeah,” I replied, taking the cylindrical object from the Merc’s hand. “Been a long time I have not smoked,” I recalled, sitting down on a metal crate that was lying around on the top of the bunker. Hatchet sat down on the floor. “Tell me about it, this smuggled shit is expensive,” he grumbled, lighting up his cigarette, before he offered me his lighter. “I consider stopping, myself. Been smoking for nearly twenty years, too.” I lit up my cigarette and gave it back to the Merc, who put it back in its pouch, looking down at the BTR where the others had regrouped. “You are a lucky man, stalker.” I breathed out a long puff of smoke. “Yeah, she is intelligent, funny, adorable, always willing to carry on forwards,” I absent-mindedly said, “and so beautiful.” There was a moment of silence. I drew a large breath from my cigarette and held it, before releasing a cloud of smoke. Then I noticed Hatchet’s amused expression. “I was talking about your faction.” “Oh, right. How were they?” I asked, looking down at my troops embarking aboard the BTR. “Professional, yet not as stuck up as those Duty bastards,” the Merc summed up. “Surprisingly organized.” “They are well trained,” I commented. “That they are, I’ll give you that. What were you guys here for, anyway?” “Are you aware of Hermann’s latest discovery?” I asked. “Hermann wanted to tell us about it.” “The portal thing? Of course,” replied the Merc. “Now you know. If the scientists were to go on an expedition through the anomaly, would you follow them?” Hatchet chuckled. “You know, Hermann asked me the same question. And I’ll give you the same answer: We are paid to do a job. That job is protecting the eggheads. Wherever they go, we go, no questions asked.” “A merc’s life in a nutshell,” I commented, drawing another puff from my cigarette. The Merc leader winced. “I prefer the term ‘private contractor’,” he grumbled. I let out a laugh, blowing away more smoke. Waiting. Have I mentioned how much I hated waiting? I know for a fact that Strider doesn't mind, after all, he’s a trained sniper. Celestia was busy directing the faction, but me? nah, I was bored out of my mind when we got back to base. What we learned was big news, that was for sure, but that was all they were: news. We couldn’t do a damn thing about it. After Hermann came up with that info, we owed him big time, and they needed us if the government didn’t feel like giving them a decent escort. Security detail is boring, but it pays. With a sigh, I leaned back in my seat, my eyes fixed on the far wall of my office. All we had to do was keep doing what we were doing, and wait for the scientists’ greenlight. I scratched my beard. That was going to be boring.