Sara began scanning for the flame dancer in all directions, but nothing.  It was as if it had magically just disappeared completely.  Even where there should have been raging flames at the wreckage of the transport due to the fuel and munitions on board there was little more than a few flicker flames; no bigger than the fire atop a candle.  Sara kept looking around the area, flipping through scan after scan, but nothing.  Sara came across the comm line and said, “it is all clear sir.  There is nothing here except what used to be the transport.”  “Roger that Private Snow!”  Sara began to look at the wreckage of the transport.  It looked like someone had melted down some steel then poured the lumpy mixture out on the ground.  There was nothing to salvage.  There were no bodies.  Just ash and molten slag.  The realization began to set in that not only had this thing managed to sneak past them completely undetected, but also, it outran her and a moving transport.  It also managed to get through the E.C.O. shielding, and incinerated the transport in under a minute.

Sara felt a fear that she had never felt before.  Even had she been there, there was no stopping this thing.  It was faster and more powerful than anything Bairon-Midley had to combat such monsters.  It was exactly that, a monster.  Something completely unimaginable.  The other troopers began to make it to the scene.  Their biometrics show up on her visor; heart rates above 160; blood O2 levels down to 92%, core body temperatures elevated.  All of these were typical signs of a body under duress. As if the run to catch up to the flame dancer hadn’t taken enough of a toll on them; they all seemed to have different reactions to the scene.  One thing was clear; no one could believe what they were seeing.  The reality of the situation was that their commander was gone.  Their comrades were gone.  Their invincible E.C.O. shielding was indeed penetrable.  Their enemy could not be tracked.  Worst of all they were stranded in hostile territory.  

Sergeant Norman came across the comm line, “Everyone, we start moving.  We have to get clear of the area before that thing comes back for us.  Ibara, I want you to get a comm line out to HQ to get us a pick up.” “Yessir,” Ibara replied.  “Haroldson, I want you to take point.” Norman barked.  “Yessir!” Haroldson replied.  “Frost, I want you to check the unit for injuries and ammo counts.” Norman ordered.  “Yessir!” Frost replied.  “Everyone else, I want a defensive formation and eyes in all directions.” Norman barked.   It was at this point that Sara came to the realization of what it meant to be a trooper, "  She looked at Norman and it was as if a switch had flipped.  He went from trooper to commander.  He now had a cold steel resolve to his voice just like Commander Voss.  At this point Sara knew that if she made it through this alive that she would have to be able to handle situations like this without fear or uncertainty.   Just like Sergeant Norman was doing.  “He just lost his commander and friend; yet he isn’t showing it in the least.  It is as if nothing happened.  He is just going on as acting commander.  And here I am scared half out of my wits.” Sara thought to herself.  

The troopers had formed a defensive formation, and Frost came across the comm line, “Unit 38 all present and accounted for.  Unit 37, Commander Voss, Private Huskins and the unit 38 transport are all deceased.”  “Troopers return to formation and begin moving out!” Norman ordered.  With their backs toward the molten slag that used to be their comrades, unit 38 began to march.  They marched toward the hardened blob of asphalt which used to be a road.  Upon stepping on the asphalt, Sara could feel the surface was still tacky as it ever so slightly held the boot of her battle suit to it.  About this time, the comm line opened.  It was headquarters.  “We have received your transmission.  We are sending the transport from unit 43 to pick you up.  We are transmitting the coordinates for your pick up now.” Headquarters sent across the comm line with little sense of urgency.  

Upon looking at the coordinates Sara thought to herself, “This is a really long way for us to travel on foot for a pick up. Our power suits may not make it that far on their batteries alone.”  Indeed the coordinates for the pick up were quite far away.  It would take the troopers a full 24 hours with no rest to make the rendezvous point.  “Not to mention the pick up is in the opposite direction from our initial orders,” Sara thought.  “At least the last known trajectory of the flame dancer is the opposite direction from where we are going,” she thought, breathing a sigh of relief.  It was at this point that Sara knew she was in no shape to face this thing again.

Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location far away from the scene and a few minutes prior to the initial distress call of the appearance of the flame dancer, a young girl's voice speaks out, “It’s here.”  A man then looks over at his computer, “What do you see darlin?”  The little girl’s voice responds, “The disturbance I told you about a few days ago has reappeared.  This time it is on the west coast of the U.S. in the state of California.”  “Just as you predicted my darling.  It is heading for a densely populated area.” The man’s voice responded.  The girl’s voice responded again, “It is only because you programmed me to be able to track the ghosts’ locations, Master.”  “736, you flatter me, but you had to learn to do it on your own,” the man’s voice replied.  “I guess I should get on the comm line with HQ and let them know that the anomaly is heading for Pasadena California.”  the man said.  

Leaning back in his chair, the longhaired man picked up the phone, and began making a phone call to headquarters.  While dialing the phone, he pushed the empty cup noodle cup off his desk with his feet and propped his feet in its place.  He then pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, a crinkled and damaged thing which had not been kept in any type of container, and lit it.  “Yes, HQ? We found the ghost.  It is heading to Pasadena, California.” The man said in a relaxed voice.  “No, we don’t have an ETA on when it will get there.  It just reappeared on the scanner.”  There was a brief pause as the man listened to the person on the other end of the phone.  “No! …. No!  I can’t give you exact coordinates.  It ain’t that simple! This thing is movin fast.  Plus it keeps appearin and disappearin form the scanner.  It seems to have some sort of cloakin mechanism.” the man said with a more aggravated tone in his voice.    

“Uh huh…. Yeah…. Right!  Well you just ignore our warnin and see what Mr. Bairon has to say about it!”  The man shouted at the phone. The conversation then degraded to a shouting match which finally ended with the man standing up and slamming down the phone.  “Did they not adhere to your warning, Master?” the little girl’s voice asked.  In a much calmer tone, the man replied, “They are goin be on alert for a distress call, but they ain’t sendin out a search team for another possible ghost without no proof.” The girl’s voice replied, “I am sorry Master.  The program you developed was extremely complicated and hard for me to master.” The girl’s voice replied.  “I am not mad at you darlin.  You did the best you could.  Those morons at HQ just don’t seem to get how hard it is to track these thins.”  The man said.  The man looked over at his computer and said “so it has finally come.”  The man took another puff from his cigarette then said, “Darlin it's time for you to sleep.”  “I don’t want to go to sleep!” the little girl’s voice replied.  “Why not?” The man replied.  “Because when I sleep, I have bad dreams”, the little girl’s voice replied.  “Sorry darlin, but all little girls need their beauty rest,” The man replied. The girl’s voice repeated, “Please no master! I do not want to go to sleep!”  “Goodnight my sweet princess.” the man said as he ran his fingers along the rim of his glasses and pushed a button on the computer.  The little girl’s voice then softly faded off into the distance.

The man then moved over to another computer screen.  “Computer, activate drone number 23765 and send it to the Pasadena area.” the man said.  “Activating unit 23765…. Inputting coordinates….   Dispatching, “the computer replied.  “Computer, turn on drone video feed once it has cleared the compound.” the man said.  A few moments later.  The computer responded, “Unit 23765 video feed activated.”  “Computer, bein recordin to local hard drive.” the man said.  “Data recording initiated.” the computer replied.  The man then got up, stretched and started walking to the doorway of his laboratory.  He then pressed a button beside the door.  The door slid open “pshhhhh.”  Standing at the door the man brushed the cigarette ashes and crumbs off his shirt.  He readjusted his long wavy hair back into a proper ponytail.  He then brushed off his pants which hung loose on him.  Obviously about two sizes too large, held up by a belt tightened against his slender frame.   He shook off his lab coat, which being a full length lab coat was only about six to eight inches from the floor because of his short frame of five feet six inches.  After he had determined himself clean from debris and as wrinkle free as possible, he walked out the door.  “Computer, lock up for me,” he said.  Without even looking back he walked down the hallway.  

During its infancy, Bairon-Midley began looking into, what was later dubbed, the ghost phenomena.  It was Yvimeer Bairon’s personal interest in the paranormal and the occult that led to him spending hundreds of millions of dollars on ghost research.  Initially, to lead his inquiry of the ghost phenomena, he hired  two scientists.  Dr. John Harvold Kardanovsky and Dr. Felix Simms.  It was only after almost a decade that Mr. Bairon of the Pan-American Sphere merged with the Midley corporation of Geo-Asian Combine, forming Bairon-Midley proper.  The two organizations had been jointly and covertly working together on many projects for many years.  It was at this time that the two companies moved their head of operations to the neutral zone, deeming it safer to have the majority of their assets away from the brewing conflict. 

~Excerpt from the Founding of Bairon-Midley part 1 Yvimeer Bairon’s Autobiography

A short time later, from a much farther away location, also a Bairon-Midley facility, an alarm began to sound.  Sounding much like a watch beeping, the sound echoed into the ears of a young boy.  The boy, who was of Asian descent, had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He wore thick rimmed glasses and a lab coat.  He seemed to be very excited by the alarm.   The boy ran into the adjacent room from his bedroom shouting, “Computer home in on ghost signal.”  The computer responded, “Ghost location pinpointed.   North 34, 6, 56 by West 118, 9, 10. Pasadena, California.”  The boy began frantically mashing buttons on the assortment of computers and monitors; turning some on while typing commands on others.  “This is great!” he said.  “My new ghost tracking system is working!”  “Now to see if the command centers have had any alarms raised yet,” he thought to himself.  Staring intently at the many computer screens he said, “it looks like the only ghost report filed was about nine minutes ago by …. DR. FELIX SIMMS!!  That bastard! How did he do it?!  He beat me to the punch again!!  How is he always finding these things mere minutes before I do!” the boy shouted.  He examined the location of the report and the location of the ghost sighting.  “I just don’t get it!  He is stationed almost as far as I am!  Has he developed some technology that is better than mine?  No!!  That can’t be the case.  Then how?  Is he just that lucky?  Possibly!  I don’t think that is it either.  He has to have some kind of information that I don't, which is helping him locate these things.  Although… Bairon-Midley only went on alert and didn’t send any troopers.  I guess that is because his locating method isn’t as accurate as mine.” the boy thought to himself.  

“Either way, I must send out a sighting report as well to get the troopers mobilized.” the boy thought as he opened a comm line on his computer.  “Computer activate voice modulator and lock picture frame as unknown.  Secure the line; then contact headquarters,” he commanded.  The computer replied, “Activating voice enhancement….    Activating voice distortion….   Activating visual lock, file unknown….  Securing comm line channel 43 locked….  Activating anonymous protocol….  Activating top secret priority….  Opening channel”  the computer replied.  The boy then slowed his speaking to show no signs of excitement.  He also spoke slowly to hide any trace of an accent or dialect.  “This is Dr. Archive, a very strong ghost signal has been picked up near the Pasadena, California area.  Coordinates 34.156113, by -118.131943.  Send a team to investigate.  End transmission.”  “End transmission was also the key phrase to the computer to cut off the comm line and it did so.  “Well, that should have been enough of an alert time to at least keep things from going too bad too fast,” the boy thought to himself.

It was at that very moment that alarms went off on several of the boy’s computers.  He began looking over the various monitors, “what is with this reading?!  The sensors are completely off the charts!” the boy shouted.  No sooner than the sensors had gone off the charts, the signal from the sensor in the Pasadena area went out completely.  “What is going on here?!  “Computer launch drones and show satellite images of 34.156113, by -118.131943!”, the boy yelled.  The computer replied, “Launching drones 291 through 304.   Bringing up satellite footage.”  The boy looked over the satellite footage.  “What the heck is going on?!  The entire city of Pasadena is gone!  Leveled in an instant!  This is unprecedented!  We knew they were getting stronger but this is on a whole ‘nother level!,” the boy shouted.   “This can’t be real!,” he thought with a grin coming to his face and laughter bubbling out of him as if he had gone mad.  “I’ve got to ask for more funding!  This is exactly what I needed to test my newest inventions!  All I need now is for the militaries of the world and those worthless BM troopers to fail at killing this one.  Then I can come in and save the day; thus, proving my tech is best!” he thought to himself while grinning and giggling.  “This is so perfect!” he shouted.