The Offworld Saga: The Rise of the Survivalist Federation Force

Ch. 9: The Liberation begins

Secret SFF Missile Base

Somewhere in the Great Expanse Region 35 miles from the Kithan border

18:08

"Sir! We have lost contact with all the bases within the Outer Territories! Not even a word or message from Operations! Please advise."

Sythe swiveled around in his chair to face the brown-haired human who was donning the metal blue outfit of the tech crew. What's more? The two bars pinned to the right side of his chest, red and black, signified an important rank among the grunts. Another thing that stood out to the Hylian official was what appeared to be a burn mark on the overseer's right eye, covering it like an old eyepatch. 

'You are the overseer of the Troubleshooters, correct?"

"Yes, sir!" The lad saluted his superior. Sythe had to give the man credit. At least he remembered his place and who he reported to despite having a rank. 

"Please have a seat." 

The Hylian motioned to the hovering cushion that operated on lifts as it appeared between the desk and the Troubleshooter. Once the lad took a seat, the Hylian base commander pressed a green button on the side of his desk, closing the metallic doors with a whooshing sound.

"So, you have some important information for me? Why not share it over a drink. You ever had Veronian coffee? It is quite the staple in Hyli'a. I can see why."

Official Sythe noticed that the man who he had deduced to be no older than the age of 22 try not to flinch from his dark expressionless eyes. He had been told by non-Hylians that they resembled the darkness of an abyss after it had the light snuffed out of it. 

"If it pleases you, Sir Official. "The lad looked like he was anxious and a bit impatient to receive council from the high-ranking SFF official.  

"Very well." Sythe tapped a lever on his desk and a crevice on the side of the metallic blue wall clicked open, revealing two canisters of steaming caffeine drinks. "You tell me you have lost contact with the bases we have scattered about here in the Outer territories and not a word from Sgt. Devolle? I am sure it is something as minor as a system error, but we will follow protocol as expected of me."

The pale humanoid turned to the transponder on his desk and activated it. He tried to contact the encrypted contact numbers of the SFF bases within the region, but only received radio silence. Frowning, he tried to reach Devolle's base of command, but only ended up with the same result as before.

"Maybe I should send a Net message.  Perhaps the comms are down or something along that caliber. I'll try to reach out to Base 64 to connect with possible assistance. That might be where Devolle and the rest of the team are at right now. In the meantime,  all the maintenance groups, especially the Troubleshooters, should toil to bring our systems back online.  Can your crew manage that?"

Before the lad could utter a reply, loud bumps and shouts were heard outside of the door. Then came the unmistakable sound of laser fire. A look of terror passed the young supervisor's face as a befuddled Sythe activated the sensors to see what was going on. It sounded like a showdown was going down in the halls.  For a second, the Hylian Survivalist feared that some brigands or a terrorist organization had stumbled upon their base and thought they could take some weapons or hostages. Maybe a local outlaw clan had tried to assert its control in the territory that SFF had built their base on.

I sure hope it isn't a local Kithar resistance cell or their sympathizers . Not only would that be a pain to deal with, but it would reflect badly of me to Mithros or SIN. I need to show that I am capable of doing my part in managing this base. We are on the verge of greatness. First, it's Kithan, then we may go on Kaneen. That one we shouldn't break any sweat in as we are on good terms with the Kaneens. Then we will move on to the rest of the Offworld. No country, kingdom, or group would withstand the might of the Survivalist Federation Force anymore.