CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

plaster, and the floors went from barren rock to polished tiles before they had even realised
it. It was a particularly bizarre transition for the Outlander as they checked behind them to
look at how it had changed. Van der Weer stopped them at the second checkpoint.
Three heavily armed guards – clearly not members of the militia, judging by the
calibre of their equipment – stood on either side of the security screen, watching the
outlander with suspicion. Their fingers visibly moving to cover their triggers as the Doctor
walked straight past them to speak with the Sergeant. After a few words of quiet
conversation that went unheard by the outlander, the Doctor turned. “If you will wait one
moment...”
The Outlander looked at each of the guards warily as the Doctor disappeared down a
side corridor for several long minutes with the Sergeant close in tow. The two guards
remained, and never once broke their gaze from the new-comer. Moments before, the
Outlander had been the one in charge. Now, it seemed, he was anything but.
Finally the Doctor returned with another man, his uniform nothing more than a black
jumpsuit, bearing the familiar black and gold deltas of an Intelligence Officer. This put the
Outlander off guard, as he had no idea who the man was – and had never seen him before.
Van der Weer approached and extended a hand towards the man in gesture. “This is the
adjutant in charge of this operation,” he said simply, and not daring to introduce him by
name.
The Intelligence Officer didn‟t have to explain further for the outlander to know – that
much like himself – he worked for Section Seven, but by his remarkably junior rank, they
also knew better than to assume he was the one in charge. Such postings were not issued
lightly, but there could be no doubt that the Lieutenant had the ear of someone far more
powerful than himself. “Gentlemen, if you will follow me,” the officer suggested simply, not
bothering to ask their names. It had become a convention around the facility that names
were unimportant, and in some cases and circumstances, their use was even strictly
forbidden.
The walk further in to the western wing was almost as long as the one that had taken
the Outlander there to begin with, and the trip was taken in almost total silence. Unlike the
rest of the facility – which had a perpetual atmosphere of sickness and death - this part of
the base was eerily silent. The four men continued down the corridors for some time,
passing doctors, guards and several other officers as they walked, but none said a word.
They finally arrived at their destination – at the end of a long hall guarded by two
more soldiers that brandished the unmistakeable armaments of UEO marines. The
unassuming door had a simple red light above it, and van der Weer had to key in his access
code. The outlander noticed the security camera watching him, and after a few seconds, a
loud buzz sounded as the door was unlocked from the adjacent security station, and the light
turned green. Silently, van der Weer and the Lieutenant entered the room, and the outlander
followed them inside.
For all the security, the sight that awaited him came as nothing less than a complete
surprise. The room they were in was an observation area, with a single sheet of reinforced
glass stretching across the entire length of the room, looking directly in to a bare,
unremarkable cell that had been furnished with just a bed, basin, toilet and security camera.
Dressed only in an old set of medical scrubs, a young girl was curled up in the corner. She
was thin, and clearly emaciated after what had clearly been months of maltreatment.
The outlander stepped forward and looked in to the room quietly. He said nothing as
the Doctor proudly explained. “This is Subject N-295277145,” he started. “She is one of our
best results. In fact, to be precise, she is the best result we‟ve ever had.”
“How so?” asked the Outlander flatly, continuing to wonder about the appalling
conditions in which the girl was being forced to live.
“She is the only subject to reach a stage-five catalyst,” the Doctor said, as if it would
explain everything. “In all other patients, without exception, the genetic instability of stage
four has resulted in a... catastrophic failure of synapse control. In the best cases, acute
epilepsy onsets at about ninety-six hours, and the worst case-“
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