Looking down at his chest, Anderson muttered a soft curse and moved towards the door. As he began to fumble with the controls, a genderless voice welcomed him back and the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. He looked incredulously at the camera and hurried past it, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as he went.

The hallways were a mess. However isolated it was, the recovery room seemed like a paradise to the hell he stepped into. Orederlies hurried by with men on stretchers in various stages of health as a gaggle of civilians looked lost and beaten in the corner.

Anderson shook his head at this sad state of affairs and hurried as best he could to the control room. He finally made it, and the guards at the door seemed to know who he was and waved him through.

He made his way through the hissing door and into a vast complex; computer screens covered the walls as men frantically tended the millions of flashing red lights covering the screens.

“Ah! Lt. Anderson so glad you could join us, how are you?”