Into The Rift

By Renegade_Russkiy

197K 5.7K 4.3K

Jerome is at the height of his career as a United Nations Operative, his noble job has his skills placed on t... More

Feeling Adrift (1)
Reinstated Purpose (2)
In Pursuit (3)
Faceless Vagrants (4)
New Eden (5)
New mission, Same goals (6)
Within Humanity (7)
Cradled in Uncertainty (8)
Rules Of Engagement (9)
Voice of Dissent (10)
Blind Reach (11)
Foreign Soil (12)
Air of Conflict (13)
Darkening Skies (14)
A One-Finger Salute (15)
A Helper Left Behind (Undergoing Revamp) (16)
Intelligence Updated (17)
Simply Misconceptions (18)
Communications Withdrawal (20)
In Our Nature (21)
Human Response (22)
Duty Is Universal (23)
Lights Out (24)
Whatever It Takes (25)
Red Zone Recovery (26)
Cut From Humanity (27)
Combat Effective (28)
Interwoven Chaos (29)
On Our Own Accord (30)
Measured Reaction (31)
Damage Control (32)
Imminent Concern (33)
Possible Reprisal (34)
Mutual Losses (35)
Ghosting Memories (36)
History Falling Down (37)
Hope Against All Odds (38)
Mystery Held Within (39)
Direct Action (40)
Alarming Circumstances (41)
In The Name Of Her Majesty (42)
The Sovereign Islands (43)
Prelude To Conflict (44)
The Thread She Weaves (45)
Final Departure (46)
The Few, And Desperate (47)
Lethal Force Projection (48)
Paid In Blood(49)
Guilty As Charged (50)
Skeleton Crew (51)
Homerun (52)
Foreign Insights (53)
Neglected Stronghold (54)
Search & Destroy (55)
House Arrest (56)
In Mercy We Trust 57

Return To Sender (19)

3.5K 104 24
By Renegade_Russkiy

========
-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.

They were just following orders, that I can fully understand and respect.

A flurry of emotions run just beneath my skin, managing only to incite a small tilt of my head. Since yesterday, they have been allowed access outside that holding room. It should be fine, as long as they are under an armed escort.

This is the case, but the detachment had only two soldiers instead of the previous four. Just like the rest of the garrison, their numbers are cut in half.

I centre my sights onto the dark azure of the lady's newly returned armor set, tracing my eyes over its sleek but angular features from a distance. It gave her an aura of unwavering pride. This demeanor is further strengthened by the resolute posture she had on display, nicely complimenting the feminine grace of her armor.

Her words with the researchers are spoken in a confident tone. No doubt she is leading the conversation, this anomoly brings forth my curiosity. I halt my steps, turning my full body towards them, allowing the helmet's audio receptors to siphon the context of the conversation.

For a brief period, my assigned duty went to the back of my head. ".........." As expected, the researchers are speaking in their language.

The lessons were in the beginning stages, I didn't know much about Faction Beta's language, but the basic gist of what's being said didn't escape me.

I nod my head, mentally patting myself on the back, thanking my affinity for picking up knowledge fast.

No doubt about it, the linguistics team is pilling onto them in an effort to gain last minute infomation about their language and customs.

Their persistent curiosity is a tad bit amusing, but it was overshadowed by my well deserved respect. These men and women are doing us a favour by filling in the role of the middle man....so to speak.

From my peripheral, I spot the visage of a fellow UNSOG operative, heading towards my position with intent.

From the soldier's formidable gait and air, it didn't take much thought to discern who is behind that black visor. With a semblance of a smile behind my own, I turn towards Douglas.

Like a missle my attention homed in on his form. "Douglas." I greeted him curtly, adding a nod of acknowledgement for good measure.

"Jerome you're off track from your patrol.." He points out, words sounding cold but respectable.

His words shifted my head back into gear. Douglas is right, my patrol pattern is off the grid.

Steeling my composure, I give my Second-In command the reply. "Yea...I am." My eyes trail back to the soon to be released captives.

"Tomorrow they'll be escorted to Drossal." I commented, formulating my next set of words.

Trailing my eyes, Douglas shoots me his opinion. "This is the last day for the researchers, their actions are understandable."

"Think that'll be enough time?"

Douglas gives a shrug, seeming content with maintaining his distant demeanor. "The two of us aren't qualified enough to make any assumptions."

Under the soft touch of the sun, I give him a nod. "Agreed...." I pause, my instincts alerting me to prying eyes on my form.

Turning to the source, three pairs of eyes met mine. I match the intensity of their gazes, not backing down in the slightest.

Three blue, gold trimmed helmets....against the dark grey's of me and Douglas.

In a wordless fashion we conveyed our barely hidden aminosity, trusting the message to able to escape our respective visors.

Shifting awkwardly to the side, the linguistics team registers the budding tension. Casting uncertain eyes towards each other at the permeating hostility.

"There's a high chance Faction Alpha will kill them once we deliver them to Drossal." I half joked and stated, breaking the palpable tension.

"I'm betting on that, those three know the general location of Tartarus, that's a huge blow to security."

Continuing on, Douglas snaps his eyes towards me. "Come on, let's hustle." He pauses, sending a quick look back to the source of our interests. "Both of us are disrupting the researchers' efforts with our presence."

He is right, I've stood here long enough.

I need to return back to my duty. One last parting glance is given to the three captives, each of them being a recipient of my cold look.

"Lets go." I commanded, willing my legs once more to move.

Once reinforcements arrive at midnight, tomorrow's operations will be taken up a notch.

My fireteam alone will be going back to Drossal, hopefully their conflict is further away from the palace.

As afternoon turns into evening, the gears in my head remain in motion, constantly wandering if tomorrow's mission would prove beneficial to humanity's presence here in New Eden.

That remains to be seen, no use thinking too deeply as of now.

=======

For many days we have eluded the everpresent dangers of our enemies.

Yhunian Rangers are the least of my concerns, the fate of my scouting group rests solely on my shoulders and my skills in evading the various patrols that seem to befoul the ancestral lands of the Kingdom.

Ever since that fated encounter with those faceless warriors, our enemies have been increasingly restless. Such a reason remains a mystery however intruiged my heart is to this subject.

Hunger claws at my mind, armor caked in many days worth of dirt, but the resolve within me is unmarred by these things, for it still burns brightly with life.

Our spirits are weary, but as Euralian scouts, we must not falter in our duties. "Stay firm!" Even more so, for we carry within our pouches priceless infomation about the various Yhunian camps.

We must make it back to safety!

With a commanding aura, I continue to guide my group through enemy held lands. "We must move swiftly, dark approaches."

"At your behest Inora...." Oswin follows my lead with nimble footsteps, voice shrouded under his breath.

A flight of Spearheads loom overhead, their menacing wings outstretched in an alluring show of superiority.

Their presence incites my heart to rise, its quickened pace a telltale sign of my hidden fear and awe for these majestic wyverns.

The creatures of flight soon depart my vision, heading away from the fading light of the sun.

We are almost back to friendly lands, the outskirts of this forest will no longer shelter us from prying eyes.

Cover is sparse. But with the emergence of the shadows, we should be able to sneak back across the front lines.

Bodies of both sides litter the many areas of battle. The evidence of war stretches to the ends of my vision, such a sight is nothing less than haunting.

The blood of these fallen warriors and mages lay amongst the blades of fine grass, coating their otherwise innocent green with a saddening red tinge.

There was a great battle here, this place reeks of death.

The passage of time has reduced some corpses to grey husks of flesh, loosely held together by the armor of their deceased owners.

Such a stench, however revolting reminds me that all beings are equal in death.

My well justified hatred for Yhunia's soldiers has no place here. With that in mind, I give the order to stop my group's fleeting footsteps.

"Halt!"

"At once." Oswin, being the closest is the first to heed my unexpected order.

Being the recepient of several confused gazes, it is with solemn confidence I move to look upon the dead, inciting my fellow Scouts to do the same.

I move my hands together, palms touching one another. With the support of my four comrades, I begin leading the prayer with my head downcast in respect.

The sun's hopeful rays are no longer here, allowing a reign of darkness to spread across the sky.

"Vierra...the herald of Life. The souls of the fallen lie before me, both Euralians and Yhunians." I close my eyes, surrendering my mind before my Goddess.

Continuing the whispers I bring forth my inner motherly instincts, trusting it to guide my next set of words. "Though our enemies are not part of your most devout of followers, I beseech you to welcome them into your crystal embrace. For they stood strong, with their duties compelling them onwards until their very end."

Opening my eyes, little tears smear my vision. "Adrift in this world they are, seeking salvation that you can provide with your infinite compassion."

A chorus is then provided by the rest of the group as I my tight lips hold what little remains of my composure. "To the Herald of Life, we stand under your guidance, seeking the lights of your wisdom...."

The deed is done, may these souls find the path to the next life be clear of sorrow. With a conscious clear of lingering shadows, our journey continues onwards.

My eyes burn with the desire to see the end of this quest. With the arrival of night, the silence around has a cold touch to it.

Marching footsteps to the distance. I bring my eyes to overlook these sounds, inciting my eyes to widen at the unexpected sight before me.

Several battalions of Yhunian soldiers are marching eastwards, away from the frontlines and towards us. From the Federation's innumerable warriors to their indomitable Razorback Riders, they seem to share the collective goal of....retreating, perhaps?

A hopeful glee invades my senses, it appears they are being pushed back from our lands. This joy will have to be silenced however, my group must stay hidden.

"Ready your staffs, become one with the surroundings." "I promptly ordered, keeping the voice to little more than a mere whisper.

"We must stay hidden." I added, as tendrils of my beloved staff fan outwards to cover me.

The enigmatic secrets of invisibility now resides on our very forms, easily fooling our enemy's life detecting magic should they have the wisdom to evoke them.

As swift phantoms, it is with great pride my group manages to weave through the vast formations of the enemy. The spell however is not forever.

I must forge a quick path out of their sight, lest their mages detect our presence.

From a safe distance, I could see weary faces. Some even had expressions of sorrow, a sight that's sadly common in a war such as this.

Leading my fellow scouts deeper into the fray, I quickly weave through the gaps in their inner ranks. Time works against us.

Soon, injured warriors grace my eyes. Bandages all around, coated in fresh blood. Scattered amongst the injured, are the white robes of Yhunian life menders.

They are perhaps the only ones within the enemy ranks that are undeserving of my hatred.

Coming up last is the rearguard of the formation, looking battered and fatigued. They appear to have seen recent combat, possibly from this evening.

The Federation's military might may have been pushed back, but its armies remain unbroken to our will. Despite my grievances, the Yhunians' national adherence to great fortitude is to be respected.

Time will tell if Euralian pride is enough to expunge their core values out of our lands. They soon leave my wandering vision, their final destinations unknown.

"There!"

My senses flairs up at the urgency embedded in Oswins voice. "What is it?"

"Silverwings from the north." He points up to a trio of winged silhouettes, flying low and menacing.

Their timing is impeccable, our invisibility has dissipated. My staff now gleans with nothing but traces of lingering energy.

It is imperative we get these pouches to our commanders, most importantly....to Lord General Thellius.

With the importance of survival fueling my actions, I send out a spark with what remained of my esper energy. The spell, however weak will no doubt draw the attentions of the approaching Silverwings.

The three dragons turn to circle around us with curious suspicion, no doubt awaiting an order from their riders.

One of them takes to the ground before us, as it descends I could sense the creature's predatory gaze upon me.

The nimble dragon lands with sturdy legs, stirring up the unmoving air with its wings.

Aside from its gentle breathing, the air is still with an awkward tension.

The rider stands up the saddle with his staff gleaming blue, a sure sign of a brewing spell.

"You five are dressed as Euralian scouts, state the pass phrase at once!"

"Through willows of sorrow." I hastily reply, wanting this to be a quick affair. "We draw strength from our ancestors."

With stalwart determination, I meet the rider's eyes on behalf of my fellow scouts. "You are indeed one of us..." He releases a thankful sigh, willing his staff to dissipate its potent magic.

Upon closer inspection of his armor, it appears he has the prestigious rank of Flight Leader.

"We require your wings, we have gathered precious infomation about the Invader's many camps and bases."

I take a valiant step forward with a passionate voice. "As such, we need to make the journey with haste!"

The flight leader merely nods in response, attention focused on calling down his fellow riders.

He turns to face us, gesturing to the Silverwings beside him. "Very well, we shall depart with all due haste." Needing no further words, I climb up the saddle, placing my foot into its stirrups to aid in my journey up the dragon's back.

A glance all around confirms it, my comrades are ready to depart on the backs of these faithful Dragons.

No longer shall we face the everpresent dangers on the ground, nothing could stem the tide of relief washing over me.

I release well deserved sigh, feeling the burdens drifting away from my shoulders.

Sparing a quick glance to me, the Flight Leader decides to spare me a word on safety. "Young lady....I must advise you to keep your hands to these straps, the Journey back to Drossal will be made swiftly."

Pushing aside my subtle fear of heights, I move my lips to respond. "I hear you."

"To the skies!" With a proud shrill, all three Silverwings take to the air with remarkable agility. The wind becomes a thunderous mess at such speeds, I must give thanks to my helmet for keeping my long hair confined.

The dragon emits a warm glow all across its deep black skin, strangely calming my heavy heart with its reassuring heat.

The surrounding Silverwings keep their formations inspite of their speeds. Throughout the cold of night, they move with a certain grace, as if piercing the very skies they flew on.

The air is their kingdom, these dragons undoubtly rule the skies with the power of their great wings. It is a humbling thought, to think these magnificent creatures would abide to our honorable will.

Silverwings are intelligent and cunning, these dragons are indeed the pride of the Euralian Airfleet.

Such a wonderous thought brings a burst of pride within me. In the wake of such revelations, the glistening stars above have never been more hopeful.

======

There are times when I question if fate is tinkering with my path in life.

These moments are few and far, often they leave a parting memory, both pleasant and not.

Our duties have been fulfilled, the commanders will be pleased about our findings from beyond the front lines.

In spite of my humble origins, I am beginning to think I am a pawn in the grander scheme of things.

Festering within me is a sense of disbelief, the Lord General himself has requested my presence for matters unknown to me.

I roll up the letter with tired hands, "You have my thanks."

In a gesture of traditional respect, the messenger bows with a hand across his chest. "I bid you a pleasant day scout." He departs after his honorable choice of words.

Sensing the urgency in this letter, I make the effort to be swift about my preparations. What little time I had is spent on washing away the dirt and grease from the previous days off my hair and skin.

Feeling refreshed and in a new set of scouting armor, my confidence rises to new levels. In the presence of the Queen's youngest daughter or Lord General Thellius, it is imperative I present myself only at the best.

After a reluctant farewell is given to my fellow scouts, I leave Drossal's army barracks with the pendant safely nestled beneath the armor.

Up ahead, is the ever beautiful visage of the city palace. My mind still hungers for sleep, but the yellow glean of the rising sun pushes the urge away.

Passing by the city opera house, my ears pick up the enchanting voice of a lady. It has a spark of familiarity embedded in it, capturing both my attention and intrigue.

The voice bears a strong resemblance to Princess Luculia, she is a quite the singer I must say. If only I had a voice like hers......

Curiosity rises within, briefly stopping my steps as I gaze into the dark setting of the massive opera house.

'No other voice has such an ethereal tone to it.' I realize with wide eyes.

It is the Princess no doubt. The intrigue beckons me into the opera house, but I know my duties are else where.

Willing my legs to move, I set myself on a straight path to the palace gates.

The journey ends with one final step, right outside the massive doors of the planning chamber. Its golden archways serve to entice my eyes as I waited alongside the escorting palace guards, being ever so protective and silent with their ceremonial spears.

What lies behind this door? I could only ponder with great uncertainty.

At long last the doors finally open, allowing me entry into the planning chamber.

The first thing to catch my vision is as expected, the visage of the Lord General himself, alongside his underlings.

Taking great strides, I proceed into the middle of the chamber. "Inora of the 4th scouting regiment, arriving as decreed." A bow is given, arm planted across my chest.

The Lord General's voice booms with a hint of benevolence. "Excellent, you may rise now."

I raise my gaze as he continues. "As you are aware, there is a mysterious order of people from the south. Their true origins are still shrouded in secrecy."

With a sudden bout of apprehension clouding my voice, I reply. "Yes, I am aware of that, I have battled against and alongside their darkling warriors."

My last words seem to pique the Lord General's interest. "Alongside?"

"M-my....cadre stumbled upon them while we were hunting deep behind Yhunian held lands, fighting against Yhunian Rangers." I stop, not wanting to add to the uncertain tension all around.

"I see.."

"I wasn't aware of that, I have yet to look into the reports sent by Commander Kaiver." Thellius mutters under his breath, an uncommon sight to behold.

Directing his experienced eyes to me, I could only return the gesture with my own. "They have returned once more, and one of them has specifically requested you, as you and him seem to have unfinished business."

Despite those unexpected words, my curiosity needs to be sated. "Have their emmissaries returned to the palace?" I sense them to be a chaotic neutral in the war.

"Not quite, it is their warriors who have returned... the silent professionals." One of the Lesser Tacticians firmly states, her eyes not focused on me.

Follow her suspicious gaze, my eyes pick up shadowy figures seated in the far corners of my vision.

Sweat pools on my back as their ominious aura spreads to me, they are neither friend or foe. Looking down on their hands, it appears they no longer favour those thunderous black cross bows.

These weapons look different, but no less menacing. Given what little I know about these warriors, I must assume these grey cross bows are even more powerful.

They are no doubt mighty warriors, what business do they have with me?

"Take....the seat on front..." I had to quell the surprise within me, they are speaking our tongues, however butchered it may be.

I walk towards these enigmatic warriors of chaos, each step ringing out with great uncertainty. So they are the reason I was summoned.

Despite the Lord General's well renowned wisdom, I must ask if insanity has plagued his mind.

Four faces, each hidden by unyielding black as though reflecting an endless abyss. Hidden behind that, is a person however dangerous they may prove to be. My expectations are none existent when it involves these darkling warriors.

Their cold gaze unexpectedly burns into my very soul as I take a seat in the couches, placing me closer to these warriors than I would have liked.

I now must battle not with spells... but with words if I am to escape this predicament.

===end===

There is so much potential in one life, yet most choose to live their whole lives with their eyes closed. Blind to the destiny that awaits them.

The only barrier to that realization is you, destroy your fears and doubts and become something greater.

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