Can’t be Dhaka or Yangon, she thought to herself, continuing her perusal, if Mister Vrey was going to do something with me like that, it would have been during the initial rollout.  And it appears they are contained at the moment, so it wouldn’t make sense to deploy me there.

Her brow furrowed, switching tracks as she quickly logged into the message board that served the various members of Project Infinity.  If she wanted any scuttlebutt on what may be on the horizon, it was likely to be there. It only took her a few more minutes, but she found her possible answer.

Where the hell is Colombia, she thought to herself, even as she selected the news link, replacing the screen with a video feed of a reporter in front of a massive dilapidated bipedal mech sprawled over the crumbled remains of the building it had collapsed upon.  The mech had significant cosmetic damage to it along with the evidence of a lack of maintenance, but the most telling damage was the large hole rent in the chest of the mech where the cockpit bloc was.  It was easy to tell by her eyes that that had been the killing blow.

“Local Colombian paramilitary officials have confirmed reports on the identity of the pilot of the Allied A-7 behind me as Tomas Secada, a former Staff Sergeant of the now-defunct Confederation military and veteran of the Second Earth-Space War. Secada was part of an attack by anti-government insurrectionists upon the parliament building that was repelled by the local paramilitary groups.  While an investigation is now underway as to how a mechanized bipedal unit found its way into the hands of terrorists, sources have confirmed that Secada has been identified as one of the ringleaders of the current unrest plaguing Colombia.

This is the latest in a series of escalations that have gripped the capital here in Bogota after protestors took to the streets nearly three months ago after President Torres refused to acknowledge demands to reform the government and relinquish more authority and representation to the open public. President Torres also made remarks this morning on how violence needs to be off everyone’s list of acceptable paths to change.”

Sam then flicked the screen down as she saw an image that caught her full attention. She clicked on it to enlarge, pressing play soon after.

“These you see here were once prototype quarter-scale mechanized bipedal infantry, also known as LTACs, that have been showing up in the aftermath of the A-7 assault on the parliament,” a different reporter’s voice read aloud, speaking of the smoldering remains of what was a mech but paled in comparison to the size of most mechs of the era as it sat between two apartment buildings on a 6 lane-wide street. “It’s been six months since the AiX raid on Hexa International’s testing grounds in Australia.

It’s still to be determined who has found ways to reproduce these smaller mechs, but their proficiency for urban combat has been proven quite deadly, as the protesting guerilla forces across various locations around the globe have utilized them with much more success against government military forces trying to put a stop to it all.”

“That’s the Bernaud variety, but I guess the news can’t say that,” Sam said to herself under her breath. “I guess things are progressing faster than they led on, and maybe I might have to upgrade my status from simulation sit-by’s to active roster.”

“Hexa International CEO and Founder Vincent Vrey met with Greece’s prime minister earlier last night and held talks of the hastening of their recruitment centers which are planned for use in conjunction with any hiring government in need of bolstered security, especially areas under threat of attack by the unidentified underground-led protest groups.” Sam shifted her posture as she accidentally knocked a napkin off of the table. As she chased it, the reporter continued:

“Protest groups still clamor for the restoration of the Worldwide International Confederacy which had been dissolved on August 1^st of 2163, just months after the end of the 2^nd Earth-Space War. The common theme remains that the main powers refuse to divide aid and protect trade relations as they once did during the Confederacy and that the end of the Confederacy brought about the rapidly rising poverty rates in certain countries that needed such programs to remain in place.”

“That’s the message, Ms. Choi,” another reporter’s voice said as Sam took her seat back. “Representatives, who aren’t yet confirmed to be official, have spoken with us on their key concerns. They resort to violence as they can’t find any other means to bring about international attention to their circumstances.” The continued images showed neighborhoods wrecked by not only poverty but violence as well.

“Countries such as those in Southeast Asia had normalized wealth distribution curves never seen prior to the 2100’s, but the disruption brought about by the sudden breakup of the Confederacy has sent those numbers crashing, putting them in worse situations than any living generation has seen. We are talking about 2040’s to 2060’s here, pre-World War 3 decades here. But they continued by saying that while the military response was expected, the security package forces starting to get sent in by the space proxy giant Hexa International has been the largest possible slap in the face-”

Sam turned off the feed. “That’s enough, tired of hearing all that bullshit.” She grabbed her things and headed for the shuttle boarding gate. As she continued her brisk pace, she tapped her earpiece once more: “Yeah, I am about to board now… damn right I got wiped out, barely with the living as we speak, hoping this shit I took gets me past the hangover. Forget the exam, I got other plans… No, not that… nevermind, hey, I gotta go- will get with you later, girl. Bye.”

Talking briefly with her friend did nothing to placate the knot in her stomach. She knew she had nothing to look forward to in her brief return home. Just get past this and everything will go back to how it was, she told herself. But who was she kidding? Part of her insisted that this be a visit where she undoes that something to make things never go back to how they were.

▽　▽　▽

A small, brightly white painted shuttle craft sped past a Space Traffic Control station as it headed for a large satellite facility just beyond the farthest end of Eden Territory’s outermost and largest space nation, Akkadia One. The facility was just coming into view as the sunlight coming from the other side of Earth broke the eclipse, illuminating its features that were unique to old war fortresses and outposts. Turret emplacements had been long-since removed, but the battered shielding that surrounded them remained, serving perhaps as a war memorial judging by its appearance alone, although the myriad of circling commercial and industrial shuttles suggested otherwise.

Retroboosters firing, the white passenger shuttle eased in and pulled up to the farthest-reaching dock to the station as it latched onto it, synchronizing itself with the rotational speed that provided the artificial gravity. After the dozen passengers adjusted to that change and their regaining of their sense of weight, they disembarked and found their way beyond the connecting terminal where multiple posters read “Welcome to Jazira Station” and into the main atrium where they saw what resembled many of the spaceports found across the territory.

“Here to see Director Channing,” the young woman up front spoke with a greeting nod, placing her feet over the ID mat in front of the check-in counter. The screen on the other end of the counter read “Daja Castille - Hexa International – Recruitment Specialist” along with the displaying of the face recognition check.

“Sorry, Ms. Castille, she just checked out this morning. Mr. Vrey sent out an emergency notice, calling for several Directors to meet at the West Pacific Number Six immediately. She won’t be back for a few weeks I’m afraid,” the receptionist replied as she reached for a mobile scanner and placed it on the counter between them. “But she did leave assignments for her recruiter groups, including yours. Please accept the files she left,” she continued, motioning them to place their mobiles over the scanner.

“Are you kidding?” the woman fussed to her peers as she scanned her mobile, pulling it back to review the files received. “Sorry,” she spoke back to the receptionist with a smile that begged forgiveness. “We just seemed to have run into a lot of last-minute cancellations today. But we have other business here so we will be on our way. Thank you!” She stepped off to the side as the others checked in, glancing at her screen that showed the first file uploaded. “Oh wow, can you believe Nguyen ended up getting shipped to Bangladesh? When did this happen?”

“Oh, that kid?” a slightly older man asked as he too stepped away from the check-in counter and walked over to join her. “I remember him, the kid from Casares, right?”

“Right. That’s the guy my boss told me to aim for since our space-side recruit numbers have been dwindling, but some other group snatched him.” She then started chuckling, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Sam was supposed to join us as well,” she added with a shrug of disappointment. “She’s normally here so much it’s almost like she lives here. Strange she’s been gone for over a week, now.”

“She had a big exam, didn’t she?” another younger man asked as he rejoined the group.

“She does, technically, but it’s not like she has any intention of passing,” she answered back with a roll of her eyes. “She and her buddies were supposed to go out tonight, knowing good and damn well that we had this one night locked out of our schedule.”

“Hah, what’s the deal on her anyway? I keep hearing her name,” a second young woman joined as she overheard the conversation. “That Knight girl, right? The one with the Harbinger dad and brother?”

“Oh, yeah, Alexander and Isaiah Knight, I think”

“Right, those guys.” The air around them stiffened at the mention of those names. “And little Sammy, fresh out of school and no tag to her name to keep her from the game… living that Hexa Pilot Trainee motto, deep prior knowledge of warfare equipment, excellent results with pilot training, good academic records, solid references, and a clean, healthy lifestyle,” she spoke with thick sarcasm as she quoted the recruitment pitch in a manner that could convince anyone within earshot she had recited it ad nauseum over her career.