Return To Sender (19)

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-1304 Military Hours

-Tartarus Base


My eyes are caught up in a trace, ensnared by the gentle sways of the grass all around. Helicopters, both armed and unarmed take to the skies in unison.

My legs bring me to a stand still as I mutter a quick prayer, wishing for the safety of the pilots, UN soldiers and construction team as they begin their pioneering journey towards the Southern Archipelogo. In the coming hour or two, they will be the first humans to fly over this world's ocean.

The technological marvels of flight soon exit my vision, leaving nothing but an empty backdrop of blue for my eyes. As the roar of their engines withered away to nothingness, a tiny glimpse of loneliness resonates in my heart.

Taskforce Anvil needed those UN soldiers to ensure the safety of their construction equipment and accompanying crew, that I can fully understand.

Tartarus Base will have to make do with the soldiers she currently had, both for her own security as well those of the ongoing field expeditions.

I resume my patrol route, casting alert eyes over to the handful of remaining soldiers tasked to the same repetitive but necessary routine as me. My nerves are on edge given the reduced size of the Tartarus garrison.

After scanning the ever vigilant forms of the soldiers on patrol, I knew right away I wasn't the only one to reach this assessment. In terms of military assets, this base is running on a skeleton crew, that is a glaring fact no one could ignore.

Everyone just needs to hang on till nightfall. The long awaited batch of reinforcements and supplies is just around the corner. In a time like this, this railgun acts as a glimmer of hope, allowing me to quell the unease constantly growing in my gut.

My lonesome patrol brought me back full circle, completing yet another trip around the western sectors.

Shimmering in the near distance is the Rift, an ever present reminder this world is not my home, not Earth.

I stare at the convoluted mess of light across its massive surface, using the moment to briefly wonder why the Taskforce went ahead prior to the resupply.

Without any pointers or hints, it proved to be a fruitless subject to ponder about. "No use thinking about it....." I mutter under my breath, traces of mirth hidden in my tone.

I force my sights back to the front, feet resuming its autonomous duties with a purposeful gait.

And so the day drags on. Within the protective folds of the mountains, the United Nations went ahead with its day to day operations, seeking once again to further sate humanity's desire to expand its known horizons.

Long gone were the times of severe apprehension, the lingering shock that permeated in the wake of the attack has since been buried.

Everyone has since moved on from the lives lost during the Tartarus attack. Yet a small pang of sadness looms over my head, those seven were just doing their jobs when it all went down the gutter.

Their families must have been fed false infomation by now regarding their deaths, those gentlemen swore an oath to keep a tight lid on this black site operation. This will apply.....even if they've since passed on.

God rest their souls....

I stop to collect my bearings as a result of this train of thought, the visage of the three captives appear in the corner of my vision. Closely I keep an attentive eye on them, not out of hostility but rather intruige.

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