[b]Continued from above[/b] “Warlock, please.” Cicatrix urged politely. “Wizard is so Dark Ages; and who’s to say I won’t be immortal one day?” John continued to lead us towards our goal, all the while we came across more death and the toxicity levels only got worse the deeper we went. John said that the panic room required us to show proof of identification in order for us to even get close; a laser defense grid was in place outside to keep intruders at bay. The panic room had its own generator and life support systems obviously; so there was little worry about any of the toxins or enemies getting inside. “Finally,” John said as he walked up to a heavy, vault like door that he opened with a simple code he input into a small key pad. “Everyone inside, this will only take a minute...I hope.” We all stepped inside a small room that had nothing inside of it, just four plain walls. The floor was covered with ashes; about four inches deep of ashes were on the floor of the room. When the door closed, we were scanned by a laser grid; shortly after that, we heard an animatronic voice tell us we were cleared for two minutes and were now able to enter under full authorization of those inhabiting the panic room. “Ambassador Wess,” John said loudly. “This is Captain John and the security team; can you let us in?” There was no answer. “Ambassador Wess, are you there?” John asked. We heard a dull thud behind us and a scratching noise at the wall, like a dog scratching at a door to get in. A door opened up in front of us and Wess appeared out of it… “Come on, come,” Wess urged us, waving us to get inside. “Hurry up, we mustn’t let them in.” As soon as Cicatrix made it inside, Wess closed the door. As we were standing there, we heard the door on the other side open and close, then the scan happened again, but an alarm sounded and we heard a screeching noise as the defensive laser grid activated. “What was that?” Max asked. “I don’t know,” Wess said, sitting down. “But the last few hours have not been pleasant.” “Where is Julia?” I asked. “Here, with me.” Wess said “Are there any others?” Charles asked. “There were some guards,” Wess began. “But they haven’t come…” Wess looked like a mess; he was wearing a dress shirt and trousers that were wrinkled and dirty. His face read that he needed a good long rest. He explained to us the events that unfolded over the last few hours he had been at the base. “I arrived here about an hour before you and your team touched down on Titan,” Wess began. “When I landed, I was told about sightings of strange ships not far from our location, so we went on alert yellow and hid. Ordinarily, ships just pass us by, but these ones didn’t. They took out the generator that produced our camouflage with an EMP Arc device, and then they proceeded to assault the base. The air field was completely compromised after a matter of minutes and we had not sent any distress signals at the time. In total, there were three ships; one appeared to be towing some kind of wreckage behind it. Security forces managed to shoot down two of the three ships, the third and final craft was the one carrying the wreckage. It dropped whatever it was transporting and left the area. Shortly thereafter, we decided to investigate what the final vessel left behind; so we sent a research team to investigate. However, as the research team made their approach, the wreckage just crashed down onto the airstrip and…” “’And,’ what?” Max asked after Wess paused for an extended period of time. “These…creatures poured out of it,” Wess said. “Tall, grey, skeletal like creatures; they had long claws and dark eyes. Some others came out, but were bigger, red, and had odd shaped heads; some possessed long ranged weapons that shot purple colored projectiles and had on bone like armor. It didn’t take them long to figure out how to get underground, we had breaches all over the place. I don’t know entirely what happened up there, but I was rushed into here with Julia when things really went bad. We haven’t had contact with anyone for hours…” “What about the meteor being blown in half?” I asked. “I have no idea how that happened,” Wess said. “All I know is that there was massive explosion that shook the base violently for about thirty seconds and then it was quiet. Gravity comes and goes, have to warn you…” “Go ahead and take a rest Wess,” John said. “We’ll take over security now, don’t worry.” Wess breathed in deeply and rubbed his eyes. “Got toxicity warning earlier,” Wess said. “Yeah, about that,” Henry began. “Don’t leave this panic room without a suit.” Wess nodded and said he was going to lie down, as he did Cicatrix and Max followed him. “We really need to get to the armory,” I said. “Indeed we do,” Charles said. “I’m going.” Max said as he reappeared among us. “I have a few things I’d like to pick up.” “I’ll go to,” Henry said. “I want to see what else I can learn about these skeletal creatures.” “Oh, one more thing,” Max said to me. “Julia wanted to see you, Wess just told me.” “Alright,” I said. As I was walking back to talk to Julia, I could hear Cicatrixs’ voice. “Hello there, little one.” Cicatrix coaxed. “Don’t you want to come out and play with your old uncle Cicatrix?” Cicatrix was crouched on the ground in one of the bunk rooms that Julia had been in. Julia was hiding in one of the corners… “Come, come now,” Cicatrix coaxed. “Don’t be shy; there’s no reason to fear-” Cicatrix paused as he realized someone was standing behind him. “Well, well, well,” Cicatrix said as he stood up. “The loyal guard dog; poaching on your pup, isn’t I?” Cicatrix walked back to me at the door way. “Don’t worry Ithamar,” Cicatrix said. “Your pup is safe and sound. Oh, did I just say your name? Well, try encoding it better next time, chum.” “Out,” I say. “That’s too bad,” Cicatrix said reaching out his right index finger and poking it into my chest. “I was hoping she wouldn’t be so frightened of me, but I was wrong.” Before Cicatrix could finish his sentence, I grabbed his finger and pulled him out into the hall way. He jerked his hand free and looked at me. His right index finger was broken and it leaked some kind of black fluid onto the floor. “Touchy, touchy,” Cicatrix said, resetting his finger and healing it. “Another time perhaps…” Cicatrix turned and walked away; I waited until he was out of the passage before I went into Julia’s room. She was still hiding in her corner… “He’s gone now,” I said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.” Julia came out and sat on one of the bunk beds in the room. The panic room wasn’t technically a room, so to speak; it was actually quite large, possessing enough room to house over 100 humans. It had bunk rooms, a galley, a conference room, supply storage, its own energy supply, etc. “He’s so scary,” Julia said. Julia had been crying, about what, I didn’t know. [b]Continued below[/b]

[b]Continued from above[/b] “Why do you cry, small one?” I asked as I knelt down to her. “Are you afraid?” “Yes,” She said. I reached up to her face with my hand and wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek. “There’s no reason to be afraid,” I say. “Our Creator is bigger than any monsters that we ever face.” “’Our Creator?’” Julia asked looking at me. “I don’t recall Exos being part of the six days of creation; and the Traveler didn’t make me.” “No, Exos weren’t,” I reply. “My kind was made later, long before Exos were ever a thought in the Travelers imagination.” Julia looked at me with new found curiosity, the light in her eyes read that I was no longer just a machine in her eyes. “Were…are there others like you?” Julia asks. “Does my dad know?” I looked at the doorway, suspicious if someone was there… “No, he doesn’t,” I say. “I’ll have to talk to you later, John was talking about going and finding some things we may need to get out of here.” “Alright,” Julia said. As I was walking out the door, I couldn’t help hearing Max making some kind of commotion in the distance. “Oh look, it’s Ithamar,” Max said when he saw me. “Why didn’t you tell us your name earlier?” “It’s just a code,” I respond. “Biding your time, eh?” Max asked. “You were expecting us to call you by a code name?” “Yes,” I said after a brief pause. “Alright,” Max said. “Anyway; you, Henry, and I have the task with retrieving weapons and ammunition from the armory…on the other side of the elevator.” “Great,” I say. “Oh, one more thing before we go.” Max began. “We need to locate Jk-Bx and his brother, and then see if we can’t locate a deep space communication hub to signal for help, they didn’t install one in the panic room yet…figures.” I saw Charles looking at his arm again; the blinking light on his wrist was very rapid this time. “What’s that light flashing on your arm mean?” Max asked. “As we walked along,” Charles began. “I left motion sensors behind to see if were being followed…it appears there is movement, though I can’t say it’s following us particularly.” “Ah, okay.” Max said. As we headed out to do or mission, John wanted us to keep things quiet as best we could; didn’t want to bring any of unwanted attention to our location (or at least any more than there already was). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Armory, XXXX We reached the armory within an hour; it was astonishing to see that the room hadn’t been broken into. As we went inside, we were followed by Jk-Bx and Bm-Bx; both were eerily quiet. “Everyone’s…dead,” Bm-Bx said solemnly. “Everyone.” Bm-Bx sat against the wall, his left hand on his forehead. “You didn’t find any survivors at all?” Henry asked. “No,” Jk-Bx said solemnly. “Just blood and bodies left lying in the wake of their attackers.” “Well, we’ll be ready for them,” Max said, throwing open the gun lockers. The armory had several gun lockers in it; most of which were holding the personal weapons of the security team. Only the security team and admitted personnel had authorization to enter. Every wall were lined with partially loaded shelves and gun racks; an in-wall cabinet housed grenades, plastic explosives, and some experimental HE demolitions gear. Our gun lockers took up half the center of the room, the other half had benches and tables for disassembling and maintenance of firearms. They had a few small machines for gunsmithing purposes, but nothing major. “Ah, it’s like Christmas,” Max said, rubbing his hands together. “Now where to begin…” I was wondering when me may run into the new attendants, no way they didn’t know we were here. “This here is my darling,” Max said, taking an assault rifle out from the locker. “An Arcus Prime, one of the best Arcus Industries manufactured weapons.” Max proceeded to explain what the weapon was capable of, showing me one of the bullets that was specially made for it. The casing was brass, but instead of a slug on the end, there was a small sphere suspended by three metal prongs; and on the end near the barrel was a small arc primer that imbued the small sphere with a tremendous arc charge as it exited the barrel that propelled it at enormous force and velocity; they were capable of piercing armor with ease, without losing momentum. Also, the casing was filled with a powder, but a liquid that would propel the projectile at an even faster speed. While modified to shoot these “Lance” rounds, it was fully capable to fire ordinary full-metal-jacketed rounds with the power in the casing instead of the liquid. I have to admit, I wanted one. The Prime design was abased off of old age weaponry and features the clip in front of the trigger instead of inside the stock. Tactical black complimented by red and gold made the rifles design look sleek. Users had three fire modes to switch from: semi-auto, full-auto, and three rounds burst. It also had a fixed stock and featured a “spud” grip under the barrel, in addition to a digital holosight (but also had fixed iron sights). “But wait, there’s more!” Max said, reaching back into the locker. “For you…” Max handed me a long, black gun. “This is called the Arcus DW-9SG, or as I like to call it: Death Therapy.” Max said. Death Therapy, an Arcus shotgun that is semi-auto and was clip fed. Max filled me in on the features of the shot gun; it had an A-flux series Hyperion barrel that was designed to fire slug or buck shot (adjustable to both). It didn’t have any iron or holosights; it had a digistruct stock that could change into one of three different stocks if you didn't want to use the pistol grip. Then Max showed me the shells he had… “These are expensive, so don’t waste them.” Max said to me, handing me a bandolier of metal cased shot gun shells. “These are specially made by a friend of mine, a slug round designed to shoot through hardened steels or other alloys. Also, I have plenty of 12 gauge buck for you already loaded into the magazines…coated the steal shot in fax-ion grease for extra hurt. Oh, Fax-Ion grease is highly volatile when set on fire, mostly used by mechanics, but I find it most useful for assisting in projecting the buckshot faster from the barrel, just so you know. Hair trigger-mind your touch-for when you really need to clear the area of what’s in front of you. Any questions?” “Yeah,” I say. “Where are the safeties on these things? I don’t see any.” “Umm…I had them removed.” Max said, turning back to the locker. “All for a good cause; after all, never trust a safety.” “Hmm,” I hum thinking to myself. Death Therapy was a nice weapon, the ejection port was machined bigger to prevent jams or manually load a shell and it featured a pump for scenarios when shooting specialty ammunition. “Hey, let me see your side arm,” Max said. I handed Max my handgun and waited while he inspected it. “Yuck,” Max said. “A generic Shoo-Lawn sidearm; Let me see if I got you something better than this. *reaches into locker* Try this on for size.” Max handed me a case, heavy in weight and rectangular shaped. “Take it to the table and I’ll get you some shells.” Max said as he walked away. [b]Continued below[/b]

[b]Continued from above [/b] I walked over to one of the work tables and looked at the box; it was golden colored and had a shield on the top of it that was adorned with an eagle combating a phoenix. “Ewww,” I bet I know what that is!” Jk-Bx said to me. “What are you doing?” I asked, looking at Jk-Bx, who was trying to pick the lock on a locker. “Trying to get inside of Charles locker, he’s got one of the coolest rifles.” Jk-Bx said. “I’ll say,” Max said, reappearing with three boxes of handgun ammunition and a bag. “Look at your heater yet?” “No,” I responded. “Oh, you’re in for a treat.” Max said, opening the box with excitement. “Oh, yeah. *looks at me* This is totally you.” As Max pulled the firearm from the box, I couldn’t but help notice the familiar design. “This is a one of a kind,” Max began. “No one knows where it came from or who made it, but whoever it was knew what they were doing. Semi-auto with a precision trigger, heavy barrel fixed, and glorian forged; sights are solid and illuminate in both dark and well lit locations. I like to call it the Golden Gun, but-” “It’s really called SPN-SBR .45,” I say, interrupting Max. “Come again?” Max asked, turning his head as if to listen more closely with an ear. “It’s a specially made handgun, custom for…Special Forces.” I respond. “Not may were ever made; those who possessed one were fond of its unique features, mostly. Virtually indestructible and nothing on it will break down or need replaced; such as firing pins, springs, or the hammer. Resistant to most environmental elements like sand, water, dirt, or temperature. The receiver has a special insignia of scroll on it; I know these weapons well enough…” “Could you tell me where they come from then?” Max asked. “No one-not even the Vanguard knows where weapons like these are found.” “Trade secret,” I say. “Got ammo for it?” Max looked at me suspiciously. “Yeah, two boxes of FMJ and a box of hollow point,” Max said. “No Monolith rounds?” I ask. “Pity…” The SPN-SBR, or Oath Keeper as I called it, was a one of a kind close quarter’s handgun that was made long ago in the forges of a gunsmith I knew as Eric Volgeisign (vol-guise-sen). The golden look the weapon had was easily changeable, for it would auto-adjust to an environments flora and fauna, but could adjust it manually if necessary; and the smart grip feature would automatically adjust to your hand for better handling. Eric was one of a kind, unlike any I know now or will ever know; he didn’t design because it was a job and it was expected of him, but because he enjoyed what he did and did it to the best of his ability. On a side note about the ammo I mentioned, Monolith munitions are special made antipersonnel/armor piercing rounds; made from a rare source of heavy carbon, a Samarium core (Sm on the periodic table), and imparted with fusion-neutron energies; these rounds hardened against tough surfaces, but in softer surfaces (such as flesh or cartilage) this ammunition becomes softer and breaks apart. Samarium is used so that magnetic forces can’t sway the travel or trajectory of the bullet in certain gravitation atmospheres. However, it loses momentum rapidly in spongier material and is limited in range because of the weight of the slugs. Of course, Monolith ammunition came in different variations: CQC cartridges (more impact force, less penetration), BG rounds (designed for taking down big game targets at longer ranges), and other standard types. In a nutshell, like any other kind of ammo, it was designed to kill…just bigger, stronger, more aggressive targets. *click* “I got it!” Jk-Bx yelled as Charles locker opened up. “Whoa, kind of bare in here…” Max walked over and took out a long gun wrapped in a torn and faded banner of gold and red. “Oh-ho-ho, I sure wish Charles would sell this to me,” Max began as he unwrapped the weapon. As I watched Max unravel the rifle, I could tell it was an older model of an age long past. It had something mounted under the barrel, clasped in a case that covered the whole length of the barrel from the shell ejection port and stopped two inches from the iron sights on the end; it also had a special made, retractable bipod that cold pop out from between the barrel and under-barrel attachment. A special made flash hider was on the end of the barrel that concealed the flash but not the sound of the gunshot; it did however increase accuracy and no gunsmith mark was present on it. The trigger was specially made for a delicate touch and the magazine well was machined slightly bigger for easier clip insertion. Had a solid wood stock that had a chin rest on it and a bandolier that held ten shells strapped on the side of the stock opposite the chin rest. The scope was custom and featured a maximum zoom of 1500 yards (1.3716 kilometers) that had been retrofitted with and some kind of temperature control device that was integrated into the whole weapon. What was most interesting about the whole weapon was- “See this?” Max asked as he pointing at the odd looking device attached under the rifles barrel. “An industrial laser *nods head*, yep.” “What does he need that for?” I ask. “Must also make the rifle harder to handle, because of the additional weight I mean.” “Nah,” Max said. “Light as a feature!” Max tossed me the rifle, but it wasn’t near the weight I thought it would be. “Odd thing about this laser is,” Max began again, taking the rifle back. “It won’t burn through flesh, some kind of safety feature. Can burn a hole that is about one foot in diameter up to a distance of 800yards and burns to a depth of 3inches in .02 of a second, but over a distance it obviously takes longer to burn through tougher, case hardened materials; I’d say…okay, I’ll admit I don’t the whole time, melt depth, distance business…Charles won’t tell me.” “What did Charles hunt with this, did he ever say?” I ask. “Some kind of machines,” Bm-Bx remarked. “Used the laser to get to their vitals inside, burn a hole in their armor and put a bullet where would kill them instantly.” “Well, I heard he hunted these beast in deep space that had hides tougher than metal,” Jk-Bx contested. “And he used the laser to burn through their think outer bones-like body armor.” “What?” Max asked. “Ba! He won’t tell me, but I bet-” Suddenly, Charles hand reached and grabbed the rifle from Max’s grasp. “Exos,” Charles said. “Exos who couldn’t control themselves with their new found freedoms. That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?” “Yeah,” Max said, stepping back. “Something similar, anyway...” “Got any of my special ammunition left?” Charles asked. “Yeah, give me a minute.” Max said, turning back to his locker. Charles reached into his locker yet a third time and took out a roulette bag of magazines; as he placed them on the table (set apart by two inches); I noticed they all had different colors on the bottoms of the clips. He mentioned how the colors represented different ammunition types: Red was anti-personnel, blue equaled high velocity FMJ, and the ones with gold tape represented Glorian rounds. “Most expensive bullets you can buy for this rifle,” Max said, setting a package in wax paper on the table. “Not to mention everything you fire out of this beauty has to be custom made.” “I ordinarily load my own rounds,” Charles remarked. “Like it that way, get more for my money and better quality ammo…call it a hobby. Need to start taking more side jobs…” “Like you need any more money,” Jk-Bx remarked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Charles asked. “Um…ur,” Jk-Bx mumbled. “Nothing, nothing at all sir.” “Hey, Ithamar,” Henry said to me. “Can you come here?” [b]Continued below[/b]

[b]Continued from above[/b] While Max had been talking to me, Henry had been in deep thought; he hadn’t said a word to me since we left John and the others. I walked over towards Henry, not sure what he wanted. “Whatever these are, I think they feed on disease and sickness.” Henry said. “What makes you say that?” I asked. “His liver, the guy I was looking at earlier who was torn to pieces,” Henry began. “He had liver cancer, found signs of it that piece of his liver I was holding. *looks at Ithamar* He and only a few other corpses had bite marks on them. Whatever these things are, they seem to feed off of things like disease and infection, not healthy individuals; they have a particular interest in bone marrow related illnesses I’d bet. Won’t even eat healthy organs; remember that black, acidic liquid on the ground we found? That was some kind of stomach acid; that thing-whatever it is- regurgitated up the healthy organs. The organs must have broken down in seconds in that acid; I had the hardest time finding traces of what it ate. I wanted to say something earlier, but John had us pressing on. That particular victim I had a hard time telling how he died. From shock, when he was being eaten alive? When his chest cavity crushed his heart? I don’t know…never seen anything like it.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “This is beyond weird, this is evil.” Henry said. “Have you ever come across something such as this?” “I haven’t seen anything like this before,” I say. “This is new to me…after all I’ve seen in my career; can’t say it’s the most evil though.” We both stood there in silence for a moment. “We still need to check around for a communication hub around here,” I say. “Why don’t Jk-Bx and Bm-Bx take the weapons and ammo back to the others with Henry, while Charles, Max and I will go look for the communication device.” “Alright,” Jk-Bx and Bm-Bx said in unison. “I know a shortcut,” Max said. “Let’s get to it then,” Henry remarked, picking up a rifle and an ammo bag. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ We must have been lost for about thirty minutes, kept running into locked doors that were sealed on the opposite sides. We found…so many dead; we could fill the hull of a cargo trawler from wall to wall with corpses. Finally, we came to security door that we could access… “Input my code…and were in,” Max said as he walked up to the door. The door slid open and we walked inside; no bodies were in here and there was no stench of blood or decay. It was, however, very dark… “Hmm, no power.” Max said. “Good thing we can see in the dark…I guess; man this stuff is thick and boy has it gotten colder.” Something wasn’t right with this room; it showed no signs of struggle or had anything missing. The tables and chairs were all in place; computers were off and vending machines were off. “Must be from the vents,” Charles suggested. We went around and closed the vents that we found, and then gathered around the central computer in the center in the room. Slowly, the room filled with a little more light and the darkness faded. Charles threw the breaker in a closet nearby that turned the power back on. Max had sat down in a chair in front of the computer as it booted up. “Hmm, strange.” Max said as he searched the computers files. “I keep searching for a communication hub nearby, or even a simple radio signal, but the only one I can find is…” “On the other side of the meteor; the one that’s slowly drifting away from this half of the meteor?” I asked. “Yep, the half that was blown off,” Max said. “From what I can tell, there are several doors that we can access from this side to get to the other side. Two are accessible from this level, but one is magnetically sealed and would guarantee no one could follow us back…but it appears its damaged and locked from the inside, so one of us would have to stay back here and open it for the other two who go outside.” “There is a radio on the other side though?” I asked. “Yes,” Charles said. “The command centers deep space hub may still be working.” “Great, who’s going?” Max asked without looking at us. “I’ll go,” Charles said. “Me to,” I said. “Great, wait, that means I get left here alone!” Max said. “You scared?” Charles asked. “No,” Max responded. “It’s just…don’t know what’s waiting for us yet; driving me nuts, you know? Like a guard dog looking for an intruder in their master’s house, but can’t locate it.” “Just get us to the door and let us handle the rest.” I say. “Very well then,” Max said getting up. “I always hated ‘space jumping’ anyway. Get it? ‘Space jumping, base jumping?’ *laughingly* Because you guys will…be…jumping through…space. *laughing fads* Sorry.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Cicatrix had gone out from the others at the panic room and had wandered to a very dark and decrepit part of the meteor. He was just strolling down a corridor that had zero gravity and was humming a song to himself. As he walked along, he could hear someone crying out… “Hello!” A voice cried out. “Can you help us?” From down the dark corridor, Cicatrix saw a faint light. “Perhaps,” Cicatrix said in a quiet tone, letting his hand drag along the wall. As he drew nearer, he turned right into a cafeteria and saw two men in airtight helmets standing next to a table with a silver case on the top of it. “What is the problem?” Cicatrix asked. “We’re a little lost.” The first man said. “We work for Shoo-Lawn Industries and we were here when all this craziness started to happen,” The second man began. “We were supposed to meet an associate of our client here, but he or she never showed up or contacted us.” “Ah, I see.” Cicatrix said, walking around the table, opposite where the two men were standing. “And who was this contact of yours?” “An Exo called Cicatrix-” The first man began. Cicatrix threw his left hand up and caused the two men’s masks to shatter, leaving them open to the volume of space. The men gasped for air that was no longer available to them; one of the men fell to his knees, grabbing at Cicatrixs coat as his face turned grey. Cicatrix pushed him aside like a doll and walked towards the table… “Me,” Cicatrix said, walking around the table and opening the case. “Hmm, not what I expected; thought that it would be a more…impressive amount than the last shipment.” The silver box was a special cooler that was manufactured by an arms company and was used to transport chemical weapons (in small quantities). However, what was inside was no chemical weapon that was being cooled. “I do wonder Mr. Dudley,” Cicatrix said out loud to himself. “How do you acquire such curious things; who at Shoo-Lawn industries would give you such a curious thing? Leonard the scientist, perhaps he provided this one? Leonard…when will he stop playing your little games? Both of them have supplied me with this substance, this lifeblood…but I can’t imagine they know what they’re giving me.” [b]Continued below[/b]

[b]Continued from above, finished below [/b] As Cicatrix prepared to… ”consume” what was inside the case… “I hate this place,” A male voice said. “The climate here is deplorable.” “Who’s there?” Cicatrix said, looking around. After a brief pause, looking around to make sure he was alone, Cicatrix continued prepping his parcel. “Could be worse,” A second male voice responded. “We could have been shipped to the outer ring of Terrace IV…” “Yeah,” The first voice replied. “Though we would have no doubt seen more action there, all we have here is sand and…more sand. Not to mention the heat and humidity…” Cicatrix ceased what he was doing, listening intently. “Speak to the wife lately?” The second voice asked. “Nope,” The first voice responded. “No contact with the colonies out here, too far away…” “Hmm,” The second voice seemed to fade out. “Heard you two are expecting your first offspring?” “Yeah,” The first voice said as it faded out. “Were very excited…” Cicatrix shook his head, trying to get the voices out…even though he knew he would never be rid of them. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Charles and I reached the other side of the meteor after an hour of drifting through debris. Once inside, we managed to find the deep space communications in the old main command center for the meteor. There were no bodies around and no signs of struggle, just a silence that was quite stifling… “How much longer is this going to take?” I ask Charles. “I’ve sent the distress,” Charles said. "Shouldn’t be more than a few hours till they respond or send someone out to investigate...maybe.” “Let’s get out of here then,” I said. “Fine by me,” Charles said, getting up from his chair. “We better hurry before-” *clang* A loud crash was heard in the room adjacent to us. “What was that?” Max said over the com link. *door to adjacent room is struck violently* “I think the neighbors want in,” Jk-Bx chimed in. Charles and I froze where we stood. The door continued to be attacked savagely. Charles slowly unlatched his holsters to Hansel and Gretel; as I slowly slid Death Sentence off my back… “Uh, guys?” Bm-Bx asked. The door was knocked inside the room and a dark mist was revealed behind it, no telling what lay in wait beyond it. A low growling sound was heard before a tall creature with a triangular shaped head, red body, three green glowing eyes, and brandishing an odd sword charged at us. It knocked one of the consoles out of its way as it charged towards me; meanwhile, a dozen gray, skeletal like creatures poured out of the door way behind it. Charles opened fire on the smaller creatures, hitting each one in the head resulted in them suddenly being reduced to ash. I on the other hand was stuck with the tall, triangular shaped…thing. “Watch out!” Jk-Bx yelled. I dodged the swing of the massive sword and rolled around and fired a shot square at the chest of the creature. It flinched backwards and fell down. Charles was struggling with one of the smaller creatures on the other side of the room; he slammed the thing down on the floor and drew out his knife, striking it around the neck, severing its’ head from the body. As the big red creature came back to me, I noticed that the chest was mauled by the buck shot, but it didn’t seem to do any real damage. “Try a slug on him!” Charles yelled at me. I drew one of the brass cased slugs from my bandolier and loaded into the chamber, just before the behemoth took a second swing at me. The kick from the round was tremendous and I could see why you wouldn’t want to fire this on semi-auto full of these. The slug struck the creature in the head, causing it to explode and the creature to be reduced to ash. “What’s going on?” Max yelled over the com link. “Get ready…” Charles responded. “Ready for what?” Max asked. “To run like hell,” I responded. End chapter 5 Thank you to those that read it, comments and feedback are appreciated. Domitoris Awakening Anthology- https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/39972/98982257/0/0

Nice finish to the chapter. Indeed, they'll have to run like hell if the same kind of company knocks on their door. The twist on the Hive is unique, at least to my knowledge. I wonder why they must feed on diseases for nourishment. Speaking of a disease, Cicatrix needs to get spanked with one of those weapons you introduced in this chapter. Any of them will suffice, but it needs to be done.

Thanks. What was one of your favorite things about this chapter?

The description behind those guns they got at the armory.

Any one of them stand out? What did you make of the twist of the Hive I put in there?

The Death Therapy shotgun and the Oath Keeper sounded the coolest. I'd like to see those Monolith rounds in action some time. As for the Hive, you've established a unique kind of lore for them that i'm curious about. More so, I wonder who gave them a lift.

Monolith rounds are hard to come by in those parts, but you never know. The Hive, a mystery best not explored...according to some. Why so much distaste for Cicatrix? Speculation on the voices?

Well I hope Ithamar slips on some like a banana peel or something. I would guess most are wise in avoiding that mystery, while some few are foolish enough to play with fire. And I had an issue with Cicatrix when he was acting the way he did with Ithamar and Julia. He can't be trusted, especially when he killed two men without remorse and has revealed he's had affiliations with Dudley. And the voices are just icing on the bloody cake. I think he has a dark and murderous past, and it'll catch up to him in the future.

Oh, I can't wait to reveal Cicatrixs' true face. Does it seem odd that they've had no contact with anyone outside the secret base?

It does. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that was intentional, probably by Dudley or his associates.

Dudley? He's just your neighborhood friendly collector of fine arts and other antiquities; what business would Frost have with him or Leonard. Never mind the rising tensions of an approaching threat...

They must be interested in some antique alien weapons of mass destruction. You know, like some salvage home to some Hive.

True, but the who, why, and what is yet to come. What would you predict will unfold as Ithamar and Charles work together?

I wouldn't want it any other way. A story's secrets shouldn't be spilled out all at once. In my opinion, I think Ithamar and Charles are the most level headed, and therefore most deadly, Exo of the security team. I think whatever crosses their path will be brought swift judgment as they effectively lead the group to their escape.

Do you think Henry or Max may compromise the escape? What do you think of Cicatrix now from when you first were introduced to him earlier? Has you opinion changed?

I don't think they'll necessarily compromise the mission. I just don't think they'll work as efficiently. When Cicatrix's name was introduced, I thought I would like him, but when he was introduced in person, I didn't care for him much, and now let's just say i'm definitely not a fan of his treachery.

Well, he...perhaps another time and place; every story needs a villain after all. Do you know what his name stands for in Latin?

That they do, man. And I don't. Care to share?

Stands for scar. I like to think of Cicatrix as a "scar" on the various characters lives.

I think it fits well. He's already a scar in my mind as the reader.

What would you predict the voices are that Cicatrix heard?