Charles had been, for what could be perceived, dormant. Often walking around in an officer uniform with his arm locked with his wife, Brynn; He wore a constant smile, was clean, and had stopped drinking as much. When he was on the job he was a desk officer and a trainer. Filing paper work was simple for him and left him time enough to train the new recruits that were funneled through the Belarus estates at almost a constant rate. But make no mistake; he did not let himself fall into a state of complacency. He remembers what happened last time.
Filing paper work was easy, most of the time it was transfer orders or promotions to take effect of. Simple reading and then deciding kinds of things, occasionally an order of leave for a soldier wanting to go home. But when four papers were brought in towards the end of his shift by one of his support officers, he blinked but nodded the man off. Papers never came in late, they weren't to be filed this late unless they were something of dire need.
Charles flipped through the pages quietly. The first was a military police report. Over the front it read, in plain simple terms: "Jackals."
"Jackals" Charles spun around in the large office chair until he was facing the mute grey that coated the back wall of his medium sized office. "Jackals" He repeated to himself a bit as he flipped to the next page, and then the following two. Death papers. 3 killed. He let out a calm, yet soft sigh. He had signed death papers before; it was nothing uncommon in a large army to see thousands of these appear at a time. But, the army had been fairly non-mobile and mostly scattered out doing menial tasks. It had been weeks since any office had seen these papers, and certainly a while since any had seen the cause being Jackals.
"Computer" Charles finally broke the stillness of the room. ?Find all records of Jackals, remove those involving the animal, keep all those referencing anything to an organization.?
The room buzzed as the inter-connected web of the Belarus estates plus all records from every corner of the empire?s database. Soon the holoboard displayed only a dozen or so files that appeared in chronological order. The first flipped open. ?One year ago? The female voice began to speak from the computer ?A police order noted that a piece of paper had been left at the scene of an ambush on a convoy. The paper said Jackals alone. In total the death toll was just under 100 soldier, 12 civilians, and two officers.?
Charles sighed a bit. Military is their target. They have enough firepower and man power to take on our convoys. All of this information he was trying to seep in as he read the entire file in what detail he could. Attacking from all sides, ripping apart the convoy piece by piece; just like jackals. ?Next file.?
?3 weeks following the first known mention. An office was found dismembered close to his home. The marks at his arms and legs show that his limbs had been bitten off prior to dismemberment.? Charles froze a bit. Psychotic, cannibalistic. The file continued ?The officer was the only officer that survived the convoy attack, and was the last man left in his unit. HQ had yet to send troops to replace those who had died before. Jackals named an official terrorist organization, but nothing was done to stop them.?
The files that followed gave the same story. Whether it was men or entire companies, they were systematically torn apart and destroyed. But in a way that was psychotic and showed no mercy. By the time the files were finished Charles sat pensively in his chair, pen in hand, multiple pages of notes in front of him. He doesn?t investigate, but the things he found were going to be important if he is to find those responsible and bring them to justice. It was late. He grabbed his coat and started to leave the office ?Computer, sleep.? The room went dark and he moved to the hall. It seemed peace was all but short lived.
Filing paper work was easy, most of the time it was transfer orders or promotions to take effect of. Simple reading and then deciding kinds of things, occasionally an order of leave for a soldier wanting to go home. But when four papers were brought in towards the end of his shift by one of his support officers, he blinked but nodded the man off. Papers never came in late, they weren't to be filed this late unless they were something of dire need.
Charles flipped through the pages quietly. The first was a military police report. Over the front it read, in plain simple terms: "Jackals."
"Jackals" Charles spun around in the large office chair until he was facing the mute grey that coated the back wall of his medium sized office. "Jackals" He repeated to himself a bit as he flipped to the next page, and then the following two. Death papers. 3 killed. He let out a calm, yet soft sigh. He had signed death papers before; it was nothing uncommon in a large army to see thousands of these appear at a time. But, the army had been fairly non-mobile and mostly scattered out doing menial tasks. It had been weeks since any office had seen these papers, and certainly a while since any had seen the cause being Jackals.
"Computer" Charles finally broke the stillness of the room. ?Find all records of Jackals, remove those involving the animal, keep all those referencing anything to an organization.?
The room buzzed as the inter-connected web of the Belarus estates plus all records from every corner of the empire?s database. Soon the holoboard displayed only a dozen or so files that appeared in chronological order. The first flipped open. ?One year ago? The female voice began to speak from the computer ?A police order noted that a piece of paper had been left at the scene of an ambush on a convoy. The paper said Jackals alone. In total the death toll was just under 100 soldier, 12 civilians, and two officers.?
Charles sighed a bit. Military is their target. They have enough firepower and man power to take on our convoys. All of this information he was trying to seep in as he read the entire file in what detail he could. Attacking from all sides, ripping apart the convoy piece by piece; just like jackals. ?Next file.?
?3 weeks following the first known mention. An office was found dismembered close to his home. The marks at his arms and legs show that his limbs had been bitten off prior to dismemberment.? Charles froze a bit. Psychotic, cannibalistic. The file continued ?The officer was the only officer that survived the convoy attack, and was the last man left in his unit. HQ had yet to send troops to replace those who had died before. Jackals named an official terrorist organization, but nothing was done to stop them.?
The files that followed gave the same story. Whether it was men or entire companies, they were systematically torn apart and destroyed. But in a way that was psychotic and showed no mercy. By the time the files were finished Charles sat pensively in his chair, pen in hand, multiple pages of notes in front of him. He doesn?t investigate, but the things he found were going to be important if he is to find those responsible and bring them to justice. It was late. He grabbed his coat and started to leave the office ?Computer, sleep.? The room went dark and he moved to the hall. It seemed peace was all but short lived.