[ IP ] Life of a Mercenary

November 15, 2067 
 
 It has been two weeks since I took the Icarus Military Systems job. Today much like yesterday has been nothing more than a babysitting job. FourtyNine and myself stand guard over what I can only assume is a weapons testing bunker, we are not allowed to enter, nor do we check anyone. IMS private security screens its employees. We just wait outside. Muscle to be flexed when the time arises. We never see one another outside of our gear, and rarely speak unless we need to. We are all numbers. I am Fifty. It is all business as usual. 
 
 Our gear is top of the line, S-343 power suits with a full array of monitoring addons. It enhances and supports our bodies increasing reaction time as well as proportionately increasing our strength. Makes taking a piss a dangerous activity. Our primary weapon is a Phase 3 PulseRifle with enough battery to take down a small country. Our sidearm is a S22 ballistic pistol, along with 3 concussion grenades and a single EMP. The helmet is a fully self sustained life support system with all the bells and whistles to let its user live in the harshest environments for up to 72 hours. It is still cold, I never did enjoy the bitter cold of science. All provided and maintained by IMS, a bit much for a wallflower job if you ask me. I would have been happy with my leathers and a plain old 12ga shotgun. The pay is good and I am not the one to ask questions. 
 
 November 19, 2067 
 
 I have n't seen FourtyNine in a few days, been flying solo. Guess the brass at IMS figured watching the dirt is a job one man can handle. Normal movement into and out of the bunker. A pretty young scientist whose name tag identified her as Dr.Heller has joined the team. Despite the large age gap she seems to have more control than the rest of the faceless lab coats I see. I got a call from my handler today, Lydia took her first steps today. I wish I could be there. 
 
 
 December 13, 2067 
 
 Almost a month has passed since anything has changed. Everyday seems to bleed into the next a constant flow of labcoats into the bunker. I am curious to see what is happening in there, for no other reason than to sate my thirst for a change in scenery. Shit brown walls, brown doors, caution markings on the walls. Blast doors I suppose. Fuck I am sick of this. FortyEight joined me today. He is taller than FortyNine. 
 
 December 25, 2067 
 
 It is Christmas, lab is operating on a skeleton crew. We are still here guarding a door. Dr.Heller Comes in the same time every day and Christmas is no different. Her stay was short and when she came out she looked worried. The kind of worried that furrows your brow and tightens your lips. My handler contacted me again, Lydia spent Christmas with her grandparents. I am told she looks just like her mother. Shame I can barely remember her face. 
 
 January 3, 2068 
 
 The new year has come and gone. The IMS brass says we need to be on guard. Whatever that means. There is an increase in movement around the upper base proper. The bunker we guard is about 100 yards from it set low in the ground. FourtyEight and I stand on the ramp just outside of the bunkers entrance. Thermal Scans can not penetrate the bunker but I have noticed a general increase in the body temperatures of the labcoats. I hear they are moving something into the bunker soon. FourtyEight asked me today why I write these. His voice was oddly familiar despite the vocal modulator in our suits. 
 
 January 9, 2070 
 
 The moved something into the bunker today. Something big. It looked like a large steel barrel with dozens of displays on it. I could n't read them or even see what was inside of it, Dr. Heller seemed very concerned about peoples distance from it. It was flanked by some of my fellow mercs. Forty to FortySeven. The bunker's double doors were wide open to accommodate it, inside the room was vacant save an office to the right of the door and what looked like a makeshift lab to the right. The center had a recess that looked about large enough to accommodate the steel barrel. The walls were so thick I bet they could take an ion cannon blast directly. FourtyEight had his gun at ready all day. 
 
 January 14, 2070 
 
 At approximately 0700 we heard a massive explosion coming from inside the bunker. FourtyEight signaled to me to ready my gun, though I was step ahead of him. We pushed ourselves flat against the wall and crept to the doors. We could open them if we needed which FourtyEight did. Inside was something out of the pits of hell itself. The barrel was split open as if something burst out creating a hand of razor sharp steel in the recess. The walls were covered in blood and viscera. The lab windows were red with it. We moved toward the office keeping low scanning the room for signs of life. I saw a faint glimmer under an upturned table, it was fading fast. We moved swiftly toward it yearning for an explanation. I saw Dr. Heller or what was left of her. She was missing an arm that was removed with surgical precision. Her lower torso was on the opposite side of the room. So much red. She made no sound as she stared up at us her life slowly draining from her face. She held up four fingers closed her hand and made the gesture two more time. She was silent. There were no alarms. 
 
 After the event we were debriefed by IMS brass and reassigned. We were told not to speak of the event, and our accounts would be graciously rewarded. As a merc I knew the drill. I could n't get the image of Dr. Heller out of my head. My handler had no updates about Lydia since Christmas. 
 
 // -- -- END OF LOGS -- -- // 
 
 `` What do you make of this? ``, a mans voice stated. 
 
 `` Ramblings of a mad man. ``, a woman responded. 
 
 `` Lydia, we need to deal with this. He can not stay here forever.'' 
 
 `` He is not a faceless mercenary like the other one he is my father! ``, her rage could not be contained. 
 
 `` Understood Dr. Heller. Shall we move him to the bunker?'' 
 
 She did not respond. 
 
 
 January 14, 2071 
 
 It is hot today. So very hot. No updates on Lydia. 

