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The shuttlecraft shot through the air, gliding effortlessly between the gleaming towers and spires of Arcadia. Inside the transport ship, Drake Squad prepared themselves for landing, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the claustrophobic metal cabin, as it bounced and rattled.

“Our mission is simple,” Cadell Robbins -the captain of Drake Squad, explained, from the front of the shuttle “we’re to assist corporation forces on the ground, and make sure that the objective is secured as quickly and efficiently as possible.” 

Robbins’ well-built form was adorned with state-of-the-art body armour -the kind that was only available to Osi-Corp’s private security sector- and a bulky gauss rifle was strapped to his back. Despite being just over seventy, the corporation had frozen the captain’s body clock at twenty five; which was the age that he currently outwardly resembled.

“Acquisition of the objective is paramount,” he continued “and nothing else matters here. Casualties, civilian or otherwise, are inconsequential.” 

There were four other figures crammed into the tiny shuttlecraft, who comprised Drake Squad. 

They were; 

Salvador Jung, the weapons master. Jung was a lean man, clad in the same body armour as Robbin’s. A combination of training and neural implants had granted him finesse with countless short and long ranged weapons, making him a priceless asset to Drake Squad.

Valentina Trent, the physician. Valentina unerved Robbin’s. She was a thin, waif-like figure, with stale blonde hair, and sunken eyes. She was augmented with long, spider-like mechanical arms, which protruded from her back, and held a variety of surgical equipment.

Jax Hansen, the cyborg. Hansen reminded Robbin’s of the Awakened gangsters that he’d crossed paths with. What little visible flesh remained on Hansen was pale and lifeless, pulled tightly across a body of gleaming steel. Glowing blue optics sat in the gouged sockets of his eyes and he spoke with a mechanical echo. 

And then there was the new guy.

The man that Robbin’s superiors had called “Knox” dominated the back of the tiny shuttlecraft. He was a huge, gargantuan presence; featureless in his full body armour, and was yet to speak, thus far. Robbin’s hadn’t seen him in battle, but he had come highly recommended.

“Any idea what this [i]objective[/i] is, Captain?” Jung asked, scratching at this square jaw. 

“Some sort of data disk,” Robbin’s replied “can you give us a visual, Hansen?” 

A dancing blue hologram lanced out of the cyborg’s eyes, projecting the image of a small, simple circular device into the space in front of them. 

“That’s rather unremarkable.” Valentina observed, her mechanical spider arms clanking and clicking behind her.

“Whatever it is, its stolen goods,” Robbin’s declared “and we are going to re-possess Osi-Corp’s property.”

[hr] 

Dack sat slumped in the back of the Black Brethren’s wheeled cruiser, separated from the rest of the passengers by criss-crossed metal bars.

He gazed morosely at the floor. 

Jamila was gone. 

Grendel was gone. 

They were all-

“Don't look so glum, kid,” Aurora said with a sneer, watching him from her seat in the back of the cruiser “you’ve got lots to look forwards to.” 

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Perhaps,” Aurora gave a shrug “but first I want to know how some insignificant little street rat managed to get his hands on the Golden Disk before me...what we me having invested a -LOT- of time and money in acquiring myself a map, and all.” 

“I-” 

Before Dack could speak, an earth-shattering boom rocked the transport, throwing the passengers against its walls, as the cruiser was shaken back and fourth. Dack slammed, face-first, into the bars, his jaw cracking against the metal. He hit the floor with a thud, the wind having been knocked out of him. 

“What -THE FUCK- was that?!” Aurora snarled. 

“Looks like something just go brought down, not far from here,” said one of her henchman, checking his arm-mounted scanner “something -BIG-.” 

“Fuck!” Aurora hissed “someone's on to us.” 

“You think it's the corp?” 

“Probably.” she growled, rubbing her temples in frustration. 

“If it is Osi-Corp, then we can forget about slipping out of here unnoticed,” Aurora muttered “there’s an old club, a couple of streets over. Its called [i] the rusted bitch[/i]. Get us there ASAP. We’ll shack up, and fortify our position, before we plan our next move.”