PlanetMicro:the Zander Steele Chronicles

Chapter 1: Prologue





There are trillions of unknown stars in the universe. With so many solar systems, the probability of this story being true is a guarantee. Somewhere, somehow….



Zander Steel had no idea he’d die on a mission he was never supposed to know about.

As the shuttle landed on its surface, Mars coughed red sand up at the small ship. The surface transport had landed in the middle of one of Earth’s many colonies on Mars. The ramp on the ship’s rear end came down with a hydraulic screech and then a thud. On board, six men emerged and stepped foot on the battle field.

General Turris took a few extra steps forward. He was a very buff man with short graying hair. In great physical shape, his hair was the only indicator of his age. His beard hung down to the medallion on his chest, and his all black attire gave a dangerous impression. The coat he wore could reach the top of his combat boots and was only interrupted by the holsters of his guns it sometimes got caught behind. A revolver rest on each side of his waist.

He gazed around at what were thousands of colony men lying dead all over the base. He stared at what used to be perfect white and black structures with no bullet holes or blood splatters on them. There were over a dozen one story stations used for different activities by the colony. With a quick sigh he shouted “find him now!”

“Yes sir” said the other five men in perfect unison. The soldiers sprinted into the disaster and split up. The tints on their breathing masks protected their eyes from the sun beaming over the mountains in the distance.

The skinny man piloting the shuttle finally made his way to the ramp. He wore red desert camouflage gear with a black personal armor vest, also known as a PAV, on his chest.  He had a pointy nose on his pale face, and his short brown hair was spiked. His sleeves were skin tight as if tailored by a sea diver and his lower body gear resembled a robe.

“Commander Tayvin.” The general called out. “Didn't expect you to step out.”

“Well sir I wanted to ask,” he began.

“Ask what” interrupted general Turris, more focused on fiddling with his two cannon-like revolvers.

“If you were sure of this,” he finished. “I mean what if something goes wrong?”

“This,” began the general, “is a matter of most importance. You know that.” He eyed him with a most intimidating stare and added “After all, this may determine the future of our planet. I’d say, Earth,” he emphasized “is worth going to any lengths to influence.”

Without saying another word the commander returned to the interior of the ship. He paused and glanced at the television module. A short aluminum pole raised and lowered it into the floorboard. It was a thin sheet of glass edged in an electronic rubber that programing ran through. The digital image it produced could be viewed from all angles.

“Good Evening solar system!" said the female reporter. She had golden brown hair and hazel eyes to match. “Today marks a century since the discovery of the secret room in the Great Pyramid of Giza. Also known as Discovery day, On February 7th, 2012, the hidden chamber was found. It housed the Great Construction Tool, or GCT, revealed to be the highly advanced cutting and levitating tool used to construct the great pyramids. Theory has it aliens visited us thousands of years ago with tech like this and showed us how to use it. Interesting stuff! Right Bob?” She asked glancing over at her co-worker.

“Right you are Mia!” said Bob with a handsome smile for the women at home. He had short, jet black hair, and a matching mustache that was trimmed to the precision of a right angle. “Mass amounts of technological advancements, we use today, all stemmed from the studies of this device. The GCT now rests in a science lab in Steel city. The popularity of the scientific theory on ancient aliens, is still at its peak, and was the primary influence on the Earths Allied Space Marines program. The construction of our planet’s defense vessel, Steel city, completed shortly after.”

“A most fortunate timing,” added Mia, “considering the planet of humanoids discovered by the vessel’s advanced telescopes. The Praun” said Mia, with a photo of an odd looking all blue planet appearing behind her. “All we know is that their technology is far Superior to ours. If they come, we hope they come in peace. Bob?”

“Not wanting to take the risk, our military hero, General Al Turris, also mayor of Steel city, suggested we wipe them out with a super weapon He’d been developing. A suggestion, that would create more controversy than the worlds ever seen. Millions protested against the general. A quote from a psychologist says, ‘people just don't want to be violent against them in fear of retaliation. Its also believed that they may be of help to us. People think they’ll bring us technologies like the one found in Egypt.’

I personally say we spotted them on, their, planet with our telescopes, no harm done, Mia?”

“Agreed Bob. Discovery day celebrations starting all over the planet.

In other news Mars colony six no longer an issue. Yesterday Steel city was sent in to take out the terrorist. A successful mission my sources tell me.”

With a long yawn commander Tayvin returned to the cockpit.

Outside, the general was staring at the statue of forging. A man Holding a huge hammer that represented hard work. Statues like this one were found at all the colony camps. He put two fingers to his jawbone, said “Fall in,” and within a minute his men had returned to him. “Check over there by that statue,” he ordered.

The two nearest soldiers sprinted to the statue of forging nearly sixty yards away. From that distance, they seem to kneel down over a body. With the touch of his jawbone, the soldier’s voice came in directly into the generals ear piece.

“We got him sir. I’ve got a positive id. Its him.” The two men carried the body back to the shuttle and after a glace at it, General Turris laughed.

“Ha! I knew that was him from all the way over here. Load him and return to me.”

Without hesitation the two marines carried the young man into the ship.

“Now,” said Turris turning to face the other three marines, “whose clones are you?”

“Michael Smith’s sir,” replied the marine.

“Ah a fine soldier,” said Turris, “you’ll be replaced.” And without a moments thought he pulled his revolvers out and three powerful gunshots rang an echo off of the buildings in the distance.

“Sir?” said the soldiers returning from the ship’s interior. “Sir, no!” And with another pair of loud bangs the two remaining men went tumbling down the shuttle ramp.

“Take us home commander.” Said the general, and as the shuttle lifted away, the ramp began to close with him marching across it into the interior, coat flapping in the wind. Once inside he took a final glance at the body they’d recovered. He reached inside the young man’s collar and yanked the dog tags from around his neck. They read, Zander Steel.





Chapter 2:

Behind the mask





As He lay there in Dr. Vance’s office, Zander couldn't help but open up to him. Dr. Vance was his counselor after all. He’d been seeing the doc for two years now and had long since felt comfortable telling him personal things.

Zander was a thin young man, with jet black hair and a thin face. What was most intriguing about his appearance was a streak of hair on his left side that grows in silver. It was a thin wedge of hair starting in the center of his left eyebrow and continuing from his hairline to the back of his head. Most people thought this was some bizarre hair style trend, but Zander’s friends all knew it was natural. Zander wore black pants, and a WindRider jacket. The WindRider was a special jacket that was quite pricey. Only very wealthy people bought them. In Zander's case the General had gotten him one. The jacket was similar to a sweatshirt but, had an attached hood, and a cape like shawl that hung down his back. On his chest there was a gold medal he’d been awarded by the EASM.

As cool as the cape and medal were, they was hard to notice it before his boots. They Were black leather, and bullet proof Teflon trimmed in titanium alloy. Zander was a shoe junkie who always had the latest and greatest on his feet.

Dr. Vance’s office was very small consisting a main room with bookshelves a ultra soft leather coach and a blue recliner patients sat in. There was a door in the back where his desk sat surrounded by more bookshelves.

“Mr. Steel, if you wanna discover how to end your sorrow, we have to understand it!” said Dr. Vance demandingly, “You’ll never understand these three nightmares if you don't discover where they Came from.”

“Okay doc”, replied Zander “just ask the right questions.”

Doctor Vance was a short dark skinned man in his early forties. He had black hair that was graying, a really buff chest, and arms like a wrestler. His extremely strait and bright white smile resembled that of a dentist. Perhaps this distracted the many women he could be seen out to Dinner with, from his receding hair line. Although his hair was a short afro, he kept it well groomed.

“Tell me,” the doc began “in the first dream, you see a dark figure trick a man into getting on an escape shuttle and then eject it! Then”

“Then” Interrupted Zander “he starts screaming my name like I'm supposed to save him or something.” Zander stared blankly as if he was watching his dream on a television module.

“Anything else?” asked Dr. Vance. “Anything at all?”

“There is one thing” Zander replied. “Um. Well, I”

“What is it Mr. Steel?” asked the doc in an eager tone.

“At the end the old man screams something else. But I don't really understand what it means.” He could see Dr. Vance watching him with almost no expression on his face, but he knew him well enough to know he was about to explode with anxiousness. So he just said it. “The old man screams ‘Shes your daughter to!’ and starts having a fit as he drifts away. The end!” Zander stood up immediately.

This was not the first time he’d felt extremely emotional after trying to explain one of his nightmares. He couldn't understand it but talking about it just made him feel as if he was discussing the loss of a family member.

“Look doc,” said Zander with a completely new tone trying to shield his emotions “I know you want to help me, and don't get me wrong you've been doing all that I could ask from a councilor, but I don't think you can help me.”

Dr. Vance sighed and then carefully responded. “I have never spoke to a patient I care about helping more then you. I’ve never had a patient more than a year who didn't get better. Not helping you would be like my first failure. Your case is so unique. You have one of three nightmares every night. You have severe memory loss for about an entire month of your life. And the only thing you wanna do is get off this space Vessel but you wont because your scared of,”

“Stop!” Zander interrupted with a very serious shout. “This is why I don't like doing these sessions. It always gets weird. If the general wasn't forcing me I swear to,”

“Just leave Zander.” The doc interrupted “I can tell thats been enough for today. No need to get that worked up. Do yourself a favor, go have a smoke, and I’ll call you next week.”

Without another word Zander headed straight to the door. He paused and said one final word. “Sorry,” he said and walked though the office exit.

As Zander stepped out of the office a single tear streamed down his face. Feeling light headed from jumping up so fast he leaned on the mail chute.

This large blue box was one of many drop off points for sending documents around Steel City. An addressed and stamped letter could be drooped in here where it would slide all the way to the Mail Center and be set for same day delivery.

He glanced around at the all too familiar scenery of the city and pondered what his purpose in life was. Steel City’s main floor was a massive hall that consisted of two very wide paths that connected on each end to form an oval shape. East Avenue, and west avenue where Dr.Vance's was located. On each end of the paths was a transportation station that allowed people to quickly travel to any point along the pathways. Crowds of people walked along the outside and inside of the path where stores and shops were located. Zander's head lowered and he began to stare endlessly at the glossy bright white material that made the path seem clean enough to eat off. Zander had never been off of Steel City and wondered what life would be like if he lived on earth.

Before further contemplation, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud tap that rang his eardrums. With an alarm clock effect, it seemed to wake him up. A square outline on the ground light up bright red. The square portion of the fine polished floor had split across the middle and spread, opening a space for a small vehicle to ascend from beneath. As the transcart emerged Zander saw a face that always made things worse.

Lucian Grimoire, the next in line to become captain of the Marines’ special capture unit. They hunted down terrorist, wanted criminals, and rebels. He was Zander’s height but had a slightly pale skin tone, a little more muscle, and a short buzz cut that was optional but common for the Marines. His green eyes gave off a very friendly impression that was far from accurate. He always wore his military attire including his PAV although there was rarely a fire fight in Steel City. Zander thought he looked slightly feminine. Although Zander was a marine as well, he lacked the physical combat and marksmanship skills of Lucian. Zander made up for this by having superior intelligence. The time Lucian spent training, Zander spent in his lab working on breakthrough technology so important, General Turris funded it himself.

“Just departing from your nerd counseling Zanny?” Lucian stated with a large grin as if he’d just thought of the greatest insult of all time.

Zander wondered Why Lucian was seeing Dr.Vance. “Ah Lucy, just on time for your Hormone Shot!” he said in a comeback tone of voice. Lucian shot Zander a mean look.

The transcart was box shaped and had metal bars ascending from the edges to connect a ceiling. Lucian raised up off of the soft bench people sat on that outlined the interior of the transcart. He grabbed onto one of the bars that held the ceiling on the vehicle and stated, “Hey if your going past the Beauty store you should pick up some hair dye. I think you missed a spot when you were trying to hide your age” replied Lucian being rewarded by the laughter of the two marines and the blond girl sharing the transcart with him. He stepped out with a clonk from his boots and the transcart descended back below the ground along with his previous temporary audience.

“Maybe while I'm there I’ll grab you some of those new mascara pills. You know fuller and extended really would compliment those baby doll eyes!” said Zander in his most sarcastic voice yet.

Lucian didn't reply. He seemed as if he was searching for a clever response, instead however he just looked angry.

With a feeling of victory Zander turned and proceeded down the walkway along the West avenue stores toward the north transcart station. This was short lived as Lucian made his final statement.

“Take that medal off your neck Zanny your no hero! Your just a nerd who got lucky. In a real fight you'd die just like your dad did!”

Zander didn't even think for a second before reaching for his pistol to open fire.

Zander designed weapons often but didn't get to use them in real combat often at all. His handgun was one he designed made from Aerogel, the worlds lightest solid. Aerogel was a special transparent material made out of 99.8% air but, capable of holding up to 4000 times its weight despite being fragile like glass. It was extremely fireproof, appeared smoky blue against dark backgrounds and yellowish against light backgrounds. It looked like frozen smoke and felt like Styrofoam. The handgun it formed appeared to be one seamless piece of plastic with gorgeous curves and elegant bends forming an extremely cool but dangerous weapon he called the Striker.

In one awkward movement Zander's left hand threw the edge of his cape behind him, while his right hand reached for the striker, and his right knee buckled. In a half second he was on one knee with his arm extended and the long cloak-like cape part of his WindRider flailing behind him.

Lucian's eyes met the striker barrel with fear. His sweat glans seemed to go into overdrive. Before he could take cover.

Squeeze, click, bang! Zander opened fire but didn't connect. The bullet flew about fifty feet before incinerating mid flight.

The crowds screamed and fled west avenue in a desperate frenzy.

Squeeze, click, bang! The second shot missed mimicking its predecessor.

Lucian began to sprint towards West avenue’s west wall.

Zander's heart pounded painfully as his right arm followed Lucian to the right and his finger bear hugged the trigger a third time missing. To his horror, Lucian dived and slid behind the mail chute. He now had the advantage as Zander was in a wide open space and was not a great shot like him. Zander's heart ached as he realized his rounds had incinerated mid flight. This meant he had started a gunfight with a pistol full of practice rounds used for training purposes by the Marines. These rounds incinerated on impact, or after flying a short distance. The practice rounds weren't capable of more than a small burn.

Zander was scared, had sweat in his eyes and Adrenalin pumping through his veins. His eardrums were ringing from gunshots and echoing screams. He froze. His brain didn't know what to tell his body to do.

A loud bang exploded from around the mail chute as Lucian returned fire. Zander's legs suddenly worked again as he crouched and began to fire back while taking very subtle steps backwards in an effort to escape the great danger he was in. He panicked and began firing rapidly.

Four, five, six Zander counted in his head with three more defining bangs. He had gotten a 20 yard distance between him and his hesitant enemy. If he could just buy himself enough time to get a few more yards away, he might stand a chance against Lucian's great aim. Seven, bang! Eight, bang!

Out of nowhere Lucian shot two more blind shots from behind his cover! Zander's legs were shaking as he knew he only had three more rounds in his magazine.

“Three left Zanny!” Lucian screamed, knowing unmodified handguns held 11 rounds. “Your dead! You here me?”

Although strikers had to be costume made by Zander, he always built them as standard 11 shot weapons.

He felt pathetic for waisting so much ammo without a single hit. He was one of the worst shooters in the Marines and everyone knew it. Shooting wasn't easy like in the movies, or books. In a real gunfight everyone gets tense and real cautious because a mistake could cost you your life. Zander had made his fatal mistake by still having the practice rounds from last nights combat scrimmage in his weapon. Zander continued to pace backwards while carefully aiming at the blue obstacle shielding his target. Lucian fired another blind shot that made Zander smirk. He felt relief and no longer wanted to run. As his heart rate seemed to instantly begin decelerating he fired his last three worthless rounds at the ground, and then tossed his gun on the floor. At that moment Lucian revealed himself and pointed his firearm at Zander. Other than a few people taking cover inside shops west ave was completely vacant.

“Just you and me Lucian,” Zander screamed feeling over confident.

Lucian grinned. “You just fired live rounds at me Zanny boy! Unprovoked! Surely surveillance captured that, so when I kill you, it was self defense.” Lucian proudly stated. His firearm had a laser beam that shined a small cross-hair target on Zander's WindRider.

“I’ve dropped my weapon and I'm unarmed. The surveillance will catch that to,” rebutted Zander.

“You could have another gun on you,” Lucian replied. “Who knows what your capable of, I'm not risking it! Thats what I’ll say. Although I must say I know what your not capable of. Hitting a target! Your worst than I thought Zanny.” Lucian’s grin turned into a very serious and dangerous look.

Although Lucian's handguns were intimidating even with only one of them drawn, Zander stood his ground.

Lucian's weapons of choice were long-barrel-Hornets. These black pistols had a hairpin trigger, thick grip, 16 inch long round barrel and even had an extend-able shoulder mount on the back. The barrels had two openings in the front; one for bullets and another in which the laser target was projected from. The beam’s trajectory was invisible to the naked eye, but the cross-hair image could be seen clear as day on the surface of its destination.

“I'm gonna wear that gold metal of yours every day,” said Lucian.

Out of the corner of Zander's eye he saw what was about to happen. He got on his knees and put his hands on his head.

“Oh, your even gonna beg? This is great!” Lucian shouted. “Eat this!” he yelled as he fired two fatality shots.

Zander saw it all in rewarding slow motion; two golf ball sized explosions happening a few feet in front of his face, Lucian lowering his gun as if he had killed him, then the most pleasing look of confusion on Lucian's face as he saw Zander's smirk. At that moment Lucian got hit with a red beam off light that knocked him off his feet and left him on the floor shaking very violently.

When Zander created enough space between him and Lucian he noticed one of the blind fired shots incinerate. Lucian had made the same mistake of forgetting to change his rounds.

Marching down west ave was commander Tayvin and three Steel City Elites.

The elites were a small group of marines with the top hand-to-hand combat grade and unmatched sniping abilities. They wore all black gear and usually carried long ranged weapons. Their most distinctive feature was their digital reconnaissance identification display masks. The DRID masks were seamless ski masks made of the same rubbery material sea divers used, but there were no eyes holes or mouth openings. Inside the mask was a visual display like a persons normal peripheral, but it highlighted, magnified, and identified substances, enemies, and items or locations of interest. No one knew who the Elites were because they never took their masks off.

One of the elites had shot Lucian with a stun beam; a small conducted energy device that emitted a very precise red dot like a laser pointer. It could be aimed at great distances and would always hit whatever the dot was on with a red beam of focused energy.

Zander stayed extremely still to not pose a threat. The position he put himself in on his knees with his hands on his head was standard for a surrender.

As Tayvin and his men ran up Tayvin yelled, “I did not give and order to stun anyone!”

“Sorry sir,” said the trigger happy elite as he put laser cuffs on Lucian.

Tayvin was furious. “What the hell is going on here?” he yelled at Zander, whose ears were still ringing and could barely make out his words. “A shootout in the middle of west ave? We are not on the Marine floor! This is a civilian filled area!” he shouted with a dangerous voice that signified his seriousness. Tayvin had a frown on his face so intense he seemed sick to his stomach. “I'm so sick of you two and this stupid rivalry, you both are going straight to earth the moment I speak to the general!”

Zander didn't say a word. He was too busy reliving the last few moments in which he went from fearing for his life, to watching Lucian get stunned.

He felt clever for a moment. This was interrupted by a loud zap noise as he was struck in the chest by the stun beam and he felt an excruciating pain surging through his bones as he fell flat to the floor. He was having strong involuntary muscle contractions and could not control his body. Tayvin had stunned him for no reason, and although the extreme pain had left just as fast as it came, he still could not move. He felt as if all of his muscles had gone rigid and the tingling feeling they had was overwhelming.

“Mr. Steel I want you personally!” said Tayvin. “Take him to my office I’ll walk Mr. Grimoire.”

“Walk him where, home?” interrupted Zander who felt like all of his muscles were vibrating. “This is bull”

Zap! Zander shook frantically as he felt his bones ache. When the shock went away he had the same muscle cramping, tingling sensation reset itself.

“Please give me another reason Zander I’ve been dying to use this thing since the rebellion riots stopped last year,” begged Tayvin. “Take him.”

“Yes sir,” responded the trigger happy elite who seemed eager to grab Zander's arm with pride. He stood Zander up in a supportive manor as his knees were wobbling like he was about to collapse.

“Commander I,” Zander started, but he reconsidered because of a very subtle nudge by the elite as Tayvin's grip tightened on the stun beam. The elite nudged him forward and he began to move towards the north transcart station ignoring a yell from behind him.

“This ain't over Zanny boy!” Lucian yelled.

“Oh, Mr. Grimoire please, don't embarrass yourself even more on the city news,” said Tayvin whose voice fading away, didn't stop Zander from hearing his last comment.

Zander looked up ahead towards the station at the nearest TV module and seen himself live from a Birdseye view being escorted by the elite. What have I done, he thought.

As they arrived at the station all but one of the employees had fled. The one remaining was watching himself live on the news in amazement.

“One way, Marine floor, administration, Tayvin's office, and thanks,” said the elite in his robotic sounding voice.

“Uh, st st, uh uh, yuh yuh, yee, yes yes sir!” Stuttered the skinny tall blond headed employee.

“Come on Stevenson please don't take all day like always,” requested the elite.

“Yuh, yee yee yes sir! Juh juh just have tah tah to, puh put put, input the duh destine n n nation sir! There we guh go!” accidentally shouted Stevenson.

A square portion of the floor split. It was outlined in a bright red flashing light that alerted people of a transcarts emergence. The space opened and the transcart ascended turning the red outline green as the carts door slid open.

“Inside Zander,” said the elite.

Zander didn't hesitate. He had so many thought going through his head it was about to bust. He’d never been to Earth.

What would he do on Earth? Where would he live? Would he really kick him off of the space vessel his grandfather built? Had he let down his family? What was his best friend Max gonna do without him? Had he just shamed the Steel family name on live TV?

Zander just wanted to disappear. He didn't have parents to give him advice, just his friends and Flex, his mentor. Of coarse there was the General but who new how he was going to react.

General Turris had always been like a father figure to Zander. Turris had always pushed him in school to stay focused which helped him avoid the otherwise inevitable failure that would've became his life if he’d kept getting in trouble with Max. The General also strongly encouraged his Career path which followed the footsteps of his mother and grandfather before him.

The transcart benches were the most comfortable thing you could sit on in Steel City, but Zander wasn't going to enjoy the ride. The carts door slid closed and as they slowly descended beneath the great shopping plaza Zander got a final glimpse of shoppers returning and the legendary Detective McGriffin just arriving on the seen. Detective McGriffin was the best detective to ever play clue in Steel City, and the last person Zander wanted to be questioned by. Although he was worried, he felt relieved to dodge an interrogation.

The transcart lowered, slowly stopped, mimicking the feeling in Zander's stomach, and revealed the level beneath the shopping floor where the transcarts traveled. The ceiling was partiality transparent apart from the hydraulic arms and gears all over it that opened and closed destinations in the floor. Zander stared in amazement for what had to be the one millionth time, at the extremely low ceiling that seemed to almost touch the transcart roof. The white floors had illuminated bright green arrows on it that followed alternate paths on different lanes. They seemed to somehow beam momentum into the Vehicle, propelling it forward.

As they started to move fast around the slight curve in the tunnel that followed West ave, Zander smiled from appreciation. He started to feel sad for a moment and then glanced over and noticed his faceless escort glancing up at ceiling as if he was astonished.

“Mr. Steel?” said the elite. “I just wanna say your grandfather was an amazing Architect sir. Much respect,” he added.

“Thanks,” Zander mumbled, unsure whether or not to like the remark.

Zander's grandfather, Cortez Steel was the architect of Steel City and consider to be the greatest one to ever live. In his disappearance he went from scientific hero to legend. His son, Santana Steel, became known as the best soldier to ever salute General Turris before he died in a military accident. They were legends and the only thing left off them was Zander who couldn't even figure out how to complete the sound wave amplifier he’d been working on for the general. His mom who followed in Cortez’s work could have figured it out in days, instead of months. And now he was getting kicked out of the place where his family built their legacy.

With a long sigh Zander pulled out his vaporizer. He wedged the thin cylinder between his lips and took a long drag, pulling the vapors into his lungs where they were absorbed for distribution to his bad nerves. After just a few drags his stress was abandoning him like fate had when it took his parents.

As the Transcart came to the end of the path instead of going around to East ave or ascending up into South station it did something Zander had never seen before. On the wall in front of them appeared a green box outline identical to the ones that appeared on the floors for incoming transcart indication.

“Is that supposed to happen on walls?” Zander asked nervously as they sped towards it.

With a chuckle the elite said smoothly, “Relax Zander,” and at that moment the green box split open and they zoomed through. They were now speeding through what seemed like a narrow white hallway. Zander's heart was beating like hes was in a second shootout with Lucian. With a final hum of exhaustion the transcart gradually slowed to a stop, and then ascended a few floors before stopping.

As the gates flew open the elite seem happy the ride was over, but Zander wished it hadn't stopped yet as he’d just realized it was fun. He stepped out following the elite through an extremely familiar hallway intersection. They were on the marine floor and took the express route to get there. The general and high ranking officers would sometime emerge from this pathway outside of Tayvin’s office but never had Zander discovered where it came from or how to get to it.

Directly ahead was the short hallway with the commander’s office at the end of it. As they approached the office door Zander thought about his friends and if he would get to say goodbye or get podded straight down to earth. They walked to the door without waisting another moment and the elite pushed a button that raise it into the ceiling. As they walked in something insane immediately caught Zander's attention. He couldn't believe his eyes as for what he was looking at was both beautiful and horrifying.

The door behind him slammed down as force close input was made on its terminal and he spent around to see the elite staring at him with no face. It had only just dawned on him that he was trapped.

“I'm not who you think I am,” said the elite.

Zander's heart started beating fast once again and he watched nervously as the unknown elite pulled off his mask.



                                                                                        To Be Continued..........



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