Reporting For Duty

[Steven Trustrum]

For everyone except Bram and Todd
You were recalled from the front a few weeks ago "on a matter of national security" but have sat in an otherwise empty Stateside barracks under orders not to interact with anyone else on the base beyond what's required to see to your basic needs ever since. Fighting boredom, your mind has constantly wondered what is in store for you.

And then your routine changed with a single envelope. Slid under your door early that morning, it contained a simple note indicating you were to be re-assigned. You carefully packed your ruck and have since waited, watching the clock and willing it to reach 18:00 hours.

A pair of stone-faced Army specialists arrive at your door minutes before your jump-off time. Beyond "please come with us, your plane is waiting," they say nothing as they walk you through the barracks and across the base, to the heliport where a black, unmarked Blackhawk helicopter awaits you. The specialists, bent over, hurry you to the helo and don't even look back as they leave, their mission completed, as a crewman helps you in then seals the door. The helo lifts off.

Flying over the countryside for nearly 20 minutes, the Blackhawk lands at the nearby civilian airport, right out on the tarmac. The cordon of Humvees mounting .50 caliber machine guns you see ringing the unmarked Gulfstream jet tells you wherever you're going, and whoever is in charge, doesn't want to take any risks with you. When the helicopter lands, a man in a dark suit ushers you out of the helo and towards the small jet, closing the door behind you.

You find yourself in an empty cabin that could easily seat ten or more people in lavish comfort. Clearly the jet was originally intended to transport people well above your pay grade. You notice that all the windows have been painted over so that you cannot see outside, a fact that makes the plane's interior seem gloomy and depressing.

As you take a seat, the wood-paneled door to the cockpit opens and an Air Force Captain enters the cabin. "I have to ask you for your watch and any other time pieces you may have." After accepting them, he takes your ruck and stashes it in an overhead compartment, which he then locks with a key he then returns to his pants' pocket. "Please enjoy the flight." He then returns to the cockpit, closing and locking the door behind him with a loud click.

The jet rumbles beneath you and rises skyward. Without your watch or the ability to see outside you've no idea how long the flight takes, but your best guess is a few hours of absolute boredom pass before the Captain's voice announces over the cabin's loudspeaker that you should buckle yourself in and prepare for landing.

Minutes later the jet squeals down to a landing. It taxis for a few more minutes before coming to a stop. The engines begin powering down and the Captain once again comes out of the cockpit and, removing the key from his pocket, unlocks the overhead and hands you your ruck. "Your watch will be returned to you later" he says before moving over to the Gulfstream's door. Opening it, a strong, artificial light bombards the cabin, blinding you so that you can't see what is beyond. A stiff, dry wind enters the cabin, strange scents born upon it.

The Captain indicates the doorway with one arm and then heads back towards the cockpit, once again locking it behind him.

You hear footfalls on the steps to the jet's door and moments later a large, dark silhouette fills the opening, all its features obscured by the incomparably bright light behind him, rendering him as nothing more than a dark shape.

"Please come with me," the shape says before turning to go back down the steps, returning the cabin to its full, blinding brilliance.

What do you do?

[Steven Trustrum]

For Bram

At the designated time, a pair of darkly clad Army sergeants, sidearms upon their hips, arrive at your quarters and escort you and all your possessions down the hall between them, leading you to the security station before the heavily armored air lock leading to the surface elevator. After scanning the security passes of you and both your escorts, the heavily armed soldier in a full suit of combat armor waves you through as the air lock slowly opens.

As you pass through the airlock, the lights surrounding the sliding doors to the surface elevator switch on, illuminating the drab, eggshell white walls and drab tiles of the short hallway leading to the long shaft that is Section 666's primary access to the world above. Only once you've heard the heavy thud and resounding series of clacks as the airlock closes and locks behind you do the doors before open, revealing a simple elevator car.

The two guards motion you in ahead of them and then follow you. One pulls out his passkey again and slides it into the access port below the key panel before pressing the button that will return you to the surface. Several minutes and a few hundred feet later, the elevator stops and the doors open once again. Ahead of you is another short hallway ending in an airlock that is the twin of the one below.

The same sergeant takes his guard and slides it through the port beside the airlock door, entering his code into the keypad above. After the last digit is entered the hallway falls into sudden darkness. A moment passes before a green light plays out from either side of the wall, tracing up and down all three of you in turn. Once their circuits are complete, the green lights disappear and the hallway lights turn back on a breath later, followed by the metal grinding of the airlock opening.

You are filed through the airlock and the security station beyond. A few moments later and you are out in the chilly, morning desert air. The base is still dark, but enough light is cast by the base around you to reveal the nondescript tool shack you just exited. Not giving you more than a brief moment to catch your bearings, the two escorts motion you onward, one walking ahead of you and the other behind.

The two sergeants lead you down a concrete path and across one of the facility's two primary airstrips, heading towards the cluster of primary facilities to the west. Finally, you reach the primary administration building: a drab, four story structure surrounded by the concrete wasteland of a large parking lot. The marines at the admin building's entrance check your credentials and then wave you in.

Your two escorts do not follow, instead turning to return to the "tool shed" from which you emerged. One does take the time to tell you to head towards Conference Room 5 on the third floor before they leave. Having been to the building several times in the past, you wind your way though the sterile, unadorned hallways to the stairwell, deciding to stretch your legs a bit. You get out at the third floor and continue on your way through equally boring halls before coming upon the wood-paneled door to your destination. Two more marines wait outside, one to either side of the door. One extends a hand and asks for your clearance and credentials.

What do you do?

[vidar]

>"Please come with me," the shape says before turning to go back down the steps, returning the cabin to its full, blinding brilliance.

Follow the shape, whistling. "So do you guys take lessons in melodrama or does it just come naturally to you?" Squinting into the glare so as to not lose the shape.

[Steven Trustrum]

[Christina]

[Fred]

[Ulzgoroth]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Fred]

[vidar]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Fred]

[Ulzgoroth]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Ulzgoroth]

[vidar]

[Christina]

[peacekeeper]

[Fred]

[Steven Trustrum]

Your characters can continue to talk amongst yourselves, but we'll otherwise hold for Matt and Todd to see if they want to say anything. If nothing comes up by Saturday, I'll try and hop on the computer a bit this weekend long enough to get things moving into the building

On hold for:

Matt
Todd

[vidar]

[vidar]

[vidar]

[Fred]

[Ulzgoroth]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Okay, no word from Matt or Todd yet so I'm advancing with them as NPCs]

You all chat a bit. It's obvious you are all in the dark (or are pretending to be) about what's going on. The two sentries let you talk amongst yourselves for a bit and then finally wave you in, pointing to the elevator across the interior lobby.

"Head to the third floor, conference room 5. They're waiting to brief you. You can't miss it."

The somewhat ... compact ... silent soldier with the combat engineer pin and 10th Mountain Division patch upon his khaki shoulder doesn't wait for the rest of you. He tosses the chewed, unlit cigar stub in his mouth into the bushes and heads on through the doors, towards the indicated bank of elevators. Only when he moves out of the shadows and past you do you really get a good look at his heavily scarred face and the patch that covers his left eye.

[vidar]