silhouettes. Snipers providing overwatch from the offices above and a
small army flooding in from the centre lane. All of whom were wearing
the same insignia Derek had thought was eradicated long ago, the
symbol of a forgotten time in a futile war. Five white stars surrounding
the infamous hammer and sickle on a red backdrop. A flag that once
inspired both fear and respect. Well once again, it demands more or
less just that.
The soldiers’ helmets struck Martin with a debilitating stroke of
nostalgic trauma. A built in gas filtration system from the jaw of the
helmet eerily conjured memories of the war before as well as ancient
horror movies while a shielded cranium protector looked vastly similar
to those worn by the Nazis. Eyepieces as dark as the emptiness outside.
Their breathing was silent thanks to the heavily implemented stealth
technology. Perhaps Martin should have reconsidered continuing the
production line of such armour despite it being the only thing the
Northern Coalition knew how to operate. It was ugly but damn
effective nonetheless. Primitive in technological implentations
compared to the light force shielded components of today and true
space age alloys. Despite that, the Chinese still perfected stealth
technology long before anyone else. A shame it was their only
advantage.
A Coalition soldier planted a breaching charge on the outer airlock
door, and the Knights inside the doomed vessel readied their weapons.
The hangar door closed, and gravity returned fully. The charge
detonated and the Knights fired blindly at the door in an attempt to
save their leader. Another spherical device popped in. Only this one
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