mickilennial
Alisdragon911
Rockette
Lemons
DocTachyon
Captain Uni
vietmyke
Several Years Ago
Special Operations Command Headquarters
Earth
The large black limousine rolled up the street and parked on the side of the road. There was the hiss of a pneumatic seal losing as a door opened and a ramp jettisoned out from inside. Out of the dark interior came an older man in a wheelchair and following close behind his attendant a huge man seven feet tall and made of solid muscle. They were dressed in similarly sharp clothing, black hand tailored suits and they looked to be the epitome of professionalism. The world seemed to stop at the beck and command of the man in the wheelchair no matter his small seemingly fragile stature; the pedestrians in the street moved around them like a great force was repulsing them.
The man in the chair whispered something up to his attendant who nodded and moved them across the empty street to the SOC building. From the outside something would seem decidedly off about the SOC campus. From the outset it did not look too out of place for governmental standards, it was a rectangular building made of deep black stone with a single long walkway leading up to the front door. And yet things were still strange. The building for one did not have anything would you expect in terms of security no guardposts, no high fences or security cameras and yet nothing moved passed the invisible boundary that lay between the sidewalk and the fine cut grass each spear in perfect height will all the others. People that walked by stuck as close as they could to the curb almost walking on the street. It was as if the SOC campus was not even there an enigma that vanished in and out of sight to the point that no birds even rested in the trees dotting the lawn and no small animals danced across the grass from point A to point B. No life dared to move about the campus, no life dared to break the ritualistic santicity.
The man in the chair went across the walkway as if he owned the place, seemingly unphased by the unnatural oppressiveness of the area. He and his attendant entered the building into a large waiting area filled with seats and benches that seemed to never be sit in. At the far end was a desk with a lone soul behind it but beside that there was nothing else at all in the entire area. The pair approached the women at the desk at the far end. Telling them their names and the appointment she nodded and spoke into the communication devices attached to her ear. She seemed normal enough pale skin and black hair pulled back into a ponytail but the closer one looked the closer you could notice the glint of machinery moving behind her eyes, she wasn't even human just a convincing robot that could probably kill any unwanted visitors quicker than they could blink.
They were kept waiting a long time even though the place seemed to be a ghost town nobody in the hour they sat there seemed to come in or out. Finally a door opened and out came a women dressed in a crisp black SOC uniform with long red hair. She walked with a purpose the sound of her footsteps echoing across the emptiness. She introduced herself to the pair as one Kelly O’Connell and beckoned for them to follow her. They walked and talked of common polite things like the weather as the man in the chair looked ahead and Kelly looked down at her datapad swiping away at the information as it came. Behind the door things seemed to be more alive as more souls dressed in similar uniforms walked about all on their datapads and yet none talked to one another all moving in statuesque silence. The hallways themselves were sparse and made up of all strong lines with the occasional door with a name and a department on it. Eventually they were lead to a door below the complex in the basement area the door was simple and was labeled Director Crane.
Kelly knocked on the door and a masculine voice on the other side beckoned them to entire. Inside the room sat a man at a simple desk the wall behind filled with antique analog clocks an expensive purchases these days all with diffrent names of countries and times ticking away quietly behind him. At his desk sat a small fish bowl with some tropical fish swimming about it and behind that a cup of coffee in his hands sat Admiral Jonathan Hector Crane the director of Special Operations Command and resultingly one of the most powerful men in the entire galaxy.
He was younger than most would imagine barely older than thirty and yet his eyes told a story of great intelligence and almost predatorial instinct. The yellow one was an obvious implant that robotics behind it constantly moving and scanning and he made no signs of hiding it though the blue one the human one did just the seem and it almost felt as if the blue one could perceive even deeper than the yellow. He ushered the man in the chair forward welcoming him into his domain, the tiger letting the hunter into his den.
“Doctor Iqbal! I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting! I was held up in a meeting with the Defense Council. You know how those higher ups love to talk.” He explained polite and proper almost to the point that it sounded faked.
“Yes, yes of course. No matter I’m assume we are here to talk about my project.” The doctor replied his voice calm and collected as he began the game of social sparring with the Admiral.
“Ah yes Daedalus...... After review it has been concluded that your initial test are satisfactory and we will begin moving on to the next phase of development.” The admiral replied taking a long drag from his cup.
“I assume that I will have the full cooperation of Special Operations Command in this next phase?” The doctor asked not yet satisfied. Crane looked across at him raising an eyebrow as he did before he nodded and continued.
“Of course doctor. We are going to provide you with all the resources that you need to make the project successful. While I can’t be there personally Ms. O'Connell will serve as my personal representative to you to make sure things go smoothly and there are no delays in the chain of communication.” Admiral Crane explained but suddenly there was blinking as the Admiral’s datapad let up. He looked down and shook his head muttering something under his breath.
“It would seem I have an urgent matter to attend to Doctor Iqbal. I trust that Ms.O'Connell can handle ironing out the details here.” The admiral explained grabbing his datapad and standing up, he moved towards the door but before he left he looked back towards the Doctor and he spoke and for the first time it seemed as if the entire facade left and Doctor Iqbal for one moment spoke with the real Admiral Crane. “Doctor Iqbal Special Operations Command is placing a lot of money and a lot of resources in good faith of the Daedalus project. I suggest that you do not disappoint me Doctor.”
3711 A.D
Daedalus Compound
Haoma
4:00 AM
A sharp shrill alarm sounded off among the barracks. Castle’s men went into each of the barracks yelling and ushering the recruits out. To some it might of seemed odd almost cruel to have grown men and women yelling cursing at children but the children who looked like teenagers not the ten years old they actually were were used to it. They had become accustomed to the routine of life and its normal everyday chaos that followed. The recruits rose quickly getting ready in PT gear in an expedient fashion before being rushed out rank and file all in straight lines and without much talking.
They were brought out in front splitting into squadrons as they formed out in lines in front of Castle who standing bright eyed and bushy tailed waiting for them all. Command Master Chief Petty Officer Jerome Castle was an older man almost fifty years of age biologically having spent an ungodly amount of time in cryo during FTL travel so there was and yet he could easily take down anyone in the Compound without even blinking an eye. A man with so many medals of the highest order that in his dress uniform he shined like a christmas tree on a winters night. Castle himself was dressed in his own PT gear and ready to go on the morning run that had become customary to the members of the base. 33 kms in under an hour with sixty kilos of weight on the back. For some it would be brutal for the Daedalus children? Today was only monday.
As they were broken up into squadrons and teams and the groups filed up with another as Castle began the marching cadence and the talking slowly began. The squadrons of Alpha company by this point we're pretty tight knit group having spent the first ten years of their lives living through hell to be the best soldiers the Union has ever had. As they finished up strapping their backs in they began to move. A slight jog at first it became faster until finally it became as steady run. As Castle yelled the cadence from the front of the pack the members of First Squadron were near the back with ten more kilos of weight than everybody else. A punishment for failing the capture the flag game last week. The general consensus was that there was a severe level of miscommunication between the Red and Blue team making up Squadron 1 leading to an utterly horrendous showing with Squadron 20 being able to overwhelm their position in record time needless to say Castle was not amused. So they were exiled to the back of the line so they could deal with their “personal issues” They began to talk like all the rest following in step. It was just another day at Haoma.
Special Operations Command Headquarters
Earth
The large black limousine rolled up the street and parked on the side of the road. There was the hiss of a pneumatic seal losing as a door opened and a ramp jettisoned out from inside. Out of the dark interior came an older man in a wheelchair and following close behind his attendant a huge man seven feet tall and made of solid muscle. They were dressed in similarly sharp clothing, black hand tailored suits and they looked to be the epitome of professionalism. The world seemed to stop at the beck and command of the man in the wheelchair no matter his small seemingly fragile stature; the pedestrians in the street moved around them like a great force was repulsing them.
The man in the chair whispered something up to his attendant who nodded and moved them across the empty street to the SOC building. From the outside something would seem decidedly off about the SOC campus. From the outset it did not look too out of place for governmental standards, it was a rectangular building made of deep black stone with a single long walkway leading up to the front door. And yet things were still strange. The building for one did not have anything would you expect in terms of security no guardposts, no high fences or security cameras and yet nothing moved passed the invisible boundary that lay between the sidewalk and the fine cut grass each spear in perfect height will all the others. People that walked by stuck as close as they could to the curb almost walking on the street. It was as if the SOC campus was not even there an enigma that vanished in and out of sight to the point that no birds even rested in the trees dotting the lawn and no small animals danced across the grass from point A to point B. No life dared to move about the campus, no life dared to break the ritualistic santicity.
The man in the chair went across the walkway as if he owned the place, seemingly unphased by the unnatural oppressiveness of the area. He and his attendant entered the building into a large waiting area filled with seats and benches that seemed to never be sit in. At the far end was a desk with a lone soul behind it but beside that there was nothing else at all in the entire area. The pair approached the women at the desk at the far end. Telling them their names and the appointment she nodded and spoke into the communication devices attached to her ear. She seemed normal enough pale skin and black hair pulled back into a ponytail but the closer one looked the closer you could notice the glint of machinery moving behind her eyes, she wasn't even human just a convincing robot that could probably kill any unwanted visitors quicker than they could blink.
They were kept waiting a long time even though the place seemed to be a ghost town nobody in the hour they sat there seemed to come in or out. Finally a door opened and out came a women dressed in a crisp black SOC uniform with long red hair. She walked with a purpose the sound of her footsteps echoing across the emptiness. She introduced herself to the pair as one Kelly O’Connell and beckoned for them to follow her. They walked and talked of common polite things like the weather as the man in the chair looked ahead and Kelly looked down at her datapad swiping away at the information as it came. Behind the door things seemed to be more alive as more souls dressed in similar uniforms walked about all on their datapads and yet none talked to one another all moving in statuesque silence. The hallways themselves were sparse and made up of all strong lines with the occasional door with a name and a department on it. Eventually they were lead to a door below the complex in the basement area the door was simple and was labeled Director Crane.
Kelly knocked on the door and a masculine voice on the other side beckoned them to entire. Inside the room sat a man at a simple desk the wall behind filled with antique analog clocks an expensive purchases these days all with diffrent names of countries and times ticking away quietly behind him. At his desk sat a small fish bowl with some tropical fish swimming about it and behind that a cup of coffee in his hands sat Admiral Jonathan Hector Crane the director of Special Operations Command and resultingly one of the most powerful men in the entire galaxy.
He was younger than most would imagine barely older than thirty and yet his eyes told a story of great intelligence and almost predatorial instinct. The yellow one was an obvious implant that robotics behind it constantly moving and scanning and he made no signs of hiding it though the blue one the human one did just the seem and it almost felt as if the blue one could perceive even deeper than the yellow. He ushered the man in the chair forward welcoming him into his domain, the tiger letting the hunter into his den.
“Doctor Iqbal! I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting! I was held up in a meeting with the Defense Council. You know how those higher ups love to talk.” He explained polite and proper almost to the point that it sounded faked.
“Yes, yes of course. No matter I’m assume we are here to talk about my project.” The doctor replied his voice calm and collected as he began the game of social sparring with the Admiral.
“Ah yes Daedalus...... After review it has been concluded that your initial test are satisfactory and we will begin moving on to the next phase of development.” The admiral replied taking a long drag from his cup.
“I assume that I will have the full cooperation of Special Operations Command in this next phase?” The doctor asked not yet satisfied. Crane looked across at him raising an eyebrow as he did before he nodded and continued.
“Of course doctor. We are going to provide you with all the resources that you need to make the project successful. While I can’t be there personally Ms. O'Connell will serve as my personal representative to you to make sure things go smoothly and there are no delays in the chain of communication.” Admiral Crane explained but suddenly there was blinking as the Admiral’s datapad let up. He looked down and shook his head muttering something under his breath.
“It would seem I have an urgent matter to attend to Doctor Iqbal. I trust that Ms.O'Connell can handle ironing out the details here.” The admiral explained grabbing his datapad and standing up, he moved towards the door but before he left he looked back towards the Doctor and he spoke and for the first time it seemed as if the entire facade left and Doctor Iqbal for one moment spoke with the real Admiral Crane. “Doctor Iqbal Special Operations Command is placing a lot of money and a lot of resources in good faith of the Daedalus project. I suggest that you do not disappoint me Doctor.”
3711 A.D
Daedalus Compound
Haoma
4:00 AM
A sharp shrill alarm sounded off among the barracks. Castle’s men went into each of the barracks yelling and ushering the recruits out. To some it might of seemed odd almost cruel to have grown men and women yelling cursing at children but the children who looked like teenagers not the ten years old they actually were were used to it. They had become accustomed to the routine of life and its normal everyday chaos that followed. The recruits rose quickly getting ready in PT gear in an expedient fashion before being rushed out rank and file all in straight lines and without much talking.
They were brought out in front splitting into squadrons as they formed out in lines in front of Castle who standing bright eyed and bushy tailed waiting for them all. Command Master Chief Petty Officer Jerome Castle was an older man almost fifty years of age biologically having spent an ungodly amount of time in cryo during FTL travel so there was and yet he could easily take down anyone in the Compound without even blinking an eye. A man with so many medals of the highest order that in his dress uniform he shined like a christmas tree on a winters night. Castle himself was dressed in his own PT gear and ready to go on the morning run that had become customary to the members of the base. 33 kms in under an hour with sixty kilos of weight on the back. For some it would be brutal for the Daedalus children? Today was only monday.
As they were broken up into squadrons and teams and the groups filed up with another as Castle began the marching cadence and the talking slowly began. The squadrons of Alpha company by this point we're pretty tight knit group having spent the first ten years of their lives living through hell to be the best soldiers the Union has ever had. As they finished up strapping their backs in they began to move. A slight jog at first it became faster until finally it became as steady run. As Castle yelled the cadence from the front of the pack the members of First Squadron were near the back with ten more kilos of weight than everybody else. A punishment for failing the capture the flag game last week. The general consensus was that there was a severe level of miscommunication between the Red and Blue team making up Squadron 1 leading to an utterly horrendous showing with Squadron 20 being able to overwhelm their position in record time needless to say Castle was not amused. So they were exiled to the back of the line so they could deal with their “personal issues” They began to talk like all the rest following in step. It was just another day at Haoma.