Chapter 4: Mystery

	They were walking down a street. Monument city. He could see the command towers... That's 
how he knew. The two men weren't talking to each other, but the young lady between them was trying 
her best to keep conversation going, as they were headed - who knows? no-one mentioned it in that 
jumble of noise that could have been speech. The sidewalk came to an alley where...

	The battle was over. With the Bronco downed so convincingly by the Legionnaire's missiles, 
the Invid had just taken off, as if nothing else was important here. Dovak had shot down a few as they 
were fleeing, but that wasn't important to them. With all the reactors still going (even the mangled 
Bronco's), there would be enough active protoculture to send most Invid into a frenzy. But this group 
had just flown away. With all eyes on him, Ben ran the Legionnaire over to where the fallen mecha lay, 
crumpled on the ground.
	The Bronco was a wreck. Sure there had been worse beat-up mecha before, but none of them 
looked like this. There were massive gouges all throughout the chest were the missiles had struck. 
Both forearms were severely damaged, with the left arm having been sheared off at the elbow. The 
Bronco's cannon was way beyond repair. Its legs would need massive repair work, and one wing would 
have to be replaced entirely. Its head was smashed almost to pieces.
	And the most important part of the poor old Bronco, the ever-so-fragile cockpit, was nothing 
more than a few twisted shreds of metal.
	It could be fixed. They could have the Bronco up and running again with no problems at all. 
But it would need a new pilot.
	The radio sparked to life. In the most serious tone of voice that anyone had ever heard from 
him, David commanded Ben: "Get what's left of the Bronco and haul it in. Then report to my office." The 
comm screen went dead, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts in the suddenly cramped cockpit of the 
Legionnaire.

	The sidewalk came to an alley where their future lurked. The future in the form of three simple 
muggers. When the trio had walked past the alley, one of the thugs stepped out and brought a heavy 
pipe down over the back of one of the men's neck. With a muffled thump, he collapsed to the ground. 
The others turned around. Instantly, the second thug sprung out, knife in hand, and grabbed the arm of 
the young lady. She called out to her companion...

	"Before we start laying charges, or making accusations, I'd like to get an idea of what 
happened here."
	Ben was in trouble, and he knew it. He was facing David in his office. He had only his own 
defences to go on; Dovak was avoiding him like the plague, and Sarah was out on the hovercycle, 
following the Invid. "Sir," he began, "I engaged the enemy as usual, and when I had the opportunity, 
fired the mecha's missiles to destroy the Invid command mecha. The missiles deviated towards the 
Bronco, and struck it instead. I have no idea why."
	"Very well then. However, we have two small problems with your statement. Firstly, there was 
a considerable pause between when you opened the missile hatches and when you fired. Am I to 
assume that this time was solely spent acquiring your target lock?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"An unusually long time, don't you think?" No response. "Very well. Secondly, the 
Legionnaire's recorder noted that once a target lock was acquired on the Invid mecha, it was changed 
to lock onto the Bronco. Do you have any explanation for this?"
	"Normally, I would say no sir. However, since that Invid mecha is of a new design, it is entirely 
possible that it was equipped with some kind of electronic warfare equipment "
	"Against missiles incoming from behind?"
	"We still don't know the full extent of the Invid's sensor capabilities."
	"Hmm."

	Thanks to the hovercycle's internal combustion engine and her own alertness, Sarah had so 
far been able to avoid the Pincers roaming in the forest. It was very strange to see pincers roaming the 
forest on foot. It was clear that they didn't want to be seen; at least not from the air. But she was 
approaching the place where they'd found Ben, so she had to be careful. From some distance off, she 
caught an odd glimpse of something through the trees. She dismounted her hovercycle, and ran 
towards it, darting from tree to tree. She finally got a good view of it.
	It was a massive domed structure, almost a kilometre across, she approximated. There were 
long, horizontal tendrils reaching out from around its base, and Invid swarming all around it. What's 
more, it looked unsettlingly as if it had been grown, rather than constructed by any normal method. She 
say the massive Invid commander walk into view from around the side. There was no doubt about it, 
this was an Invid hive. Sarah reached for her communicator.
	Suddenly, a shot from a laser rifle seared straight past her. She spun around, drawing her LP 
Nightstalker, and faced a man wearing CDC armour, pointing a laser rifle at her. His armour was 
dented, and he was missing his helmet. But his eyes were completely blank, his face slack and 
expressionless. Within a second he fired again, but Sarah was set on edge, and avoided the shot. 
Sarah fired her pistol, and caught her assailant square in the chest. Another man approached in a 
similar condition, carrying a rifle. Sarah didn't wait for him to fire, but blasted him first. She then ran 
back towards her hovercycle, but found it a wreck; totalled by a well-placed pincer footprint. She 
glanced around, and seeing no Invid in sight, sprinted away from the hive. Later, puffed out, she 
stopped and rested leaning against a tree while considering her next move. Checking over her 
equipment, she realised that she'd lost her communicator in the fight. It would take her hours to get 
back to the base. But there was no option.
	After only an hour or so of walking, a large swarm of Invid passed overhead, heading for the 
base. Sarah felt helpless, but she knew there was nothing she could do. All too soon, it was nightfall. 
She kept going for a brief time, until it was too dark to continue safely. She sat down by a tree, wearied 
by the hard walk. It was only then that she saw a man's body lying still on the ground nearby. But it 
wasn't perfectly still; there was the rhythmic if slow breathing that signified hope. She went over to the 
body. The man was bruised, his flightsuit torn in places, and his head injured. She shook him, pleading 
for a response, and called his name...

	She called out to her companion, but all he could do was stand there shocked, gaping in 
surprise. A third man emerged from the alleyway, also with a knife. He heard the man say something, a 
mush of sounds in a low drawl. But he turned and fled. Bolting down the street, he could only hear one 
thing behind him, the young lady crying out his name...

	"Nick!"