Snippet #2811400

Roland is a man who does not like to run. Given the option, he will walk quickly instead.

Roland was jogging through the labyrinth of underground tunnels. This attracted the attention of many idling renegades taking their breaks in the base.

“We about to go on the offensive?” A young man shouted as Roland brushed past.

“Not yet!” Roland said, losing a sheet of paper from inside his coat.

The man picked up the sheet and showed it to his friend, snickering. It was the lunch menu Roland had planned for the next three months in lieu of greater food capacity. He swung a corner, losing last week’s defense roster and Roland’s personal exercise routine (overly detailed but simple in practise). He’d pick them up later.

He reached his office space, a dark grey room with a wide table space covered in junk. Flasks of unlabeled substances, and their respective labels littering the desk due to a weak adhesive. Writing tools, large blueprint sheets with excessive notes and while several empty coffee mugs were present not a single spill. Roland’s personal terminal was on the left side, currently switched off.

In the right corner of the room was what he was after. A grotesque fusion of technology and human remains. A skull patched with metal plating, silver tubes sprawling from its neck. Antenna spikes coming from its temples, with gears at the base of the skull. Its right eye socket was fitted with a large camera lens, currently showing no signs of life. All Roland had to do was turn it on.

Despite his rush, despite the time Roland could not spare he hesitated. They were outsiders, after all. Could even be considered xenos. Facing away from the exit to the corridor, Roland knelt down to examine the probe. There were too many variables to think about, he didn’t know where to start. If only there was a particular friend of Roland’s nearby he could seek counsel with, one he had not seen for a long while...