Zone of the Enders: Phoenix

Chapter 1: The Fall of Yokohama


"Are the preparations complete, Phoenix?"

"Yes, Master. All of the units are in place, ready to fire at your command."

"Excellent, Phoenix. For now, remain on standby until further notice. I have matters to take care of first."

"Yes, Master."


Aboard the U.N.S.S. Yokohama, a man wearing the red insignia of fighter pilot with the silver bars of Captaincy over his gold uniform was hunched over the console of his fighter. Numbers and other data streamed through the miniature screen and the man seemed to absorb all this without even blinking his brown eyes. After several more moments of this nonstop feed of digital information, the man leaned back in his chair, which only had a lower back cushion to it, and stretched. Several audible pops were heard as bones cramped together finally wailed out together in a sigh of relief.

Hanzo Nakamura was an Ender and proud of it. But he was also a member of the UNSF, the peacekeeping force from Earth. For the past weeks and months, he had been training vigorously for all of his possible future missions to the point where he was nearly a walking dead, albeit a living dead. This ship, now currently operating on graveyard shift, is his home.

His face was gaunt, a look that didn't even alter if he consumed large amounts of food. His slight tangle of dark hair that altered between brown and black came from his Japanese ancestry, along with his natural tendency to be such a perfectionist. His height was unusually tall for his ethnicity but years of training in the outer extremes of space had taught his body to stretch beyond their normal capacities. His brown eyes, which were near the shade of mahogany, seemed to be that of a dreamer's but this pilot wasn't even remotely like a dreamer.

Hanzo Nakamura's parents were the first of their family, counting both sides and at least two millennium's worth of ancestors, to leave Earth for the adventures and wonders of space. Hanzo's mother was a physician aboard the Yokohama and his father was a military scientist for the UNSF. Hanzo's father, Kenjo Nakamura, devised many of the components and hardware that caused many of the old manually operated fighters to be scrapped or modified to conform to the automated fighters. Even though it was mostly his father's fault, Hanzo himself couldn't blame Kenjo for doing so. He had done it under direct order and with heavy strain from the higher ups in the military.

"What's wrong with flying?" Hanzo had once asked his father, just several years ago. It was at the time when Hanzo was at the crossroads of whether or not to follow his dreams or his parents' expectations.

"How about the Orbital Frames?" his father replied, a little tired that night. Plenty of papers were spread out on his table, each telling Hanzo little but only showing plenty of hard to decipher language. "They're pretty good for flying. Didn't you want to be a pilot of a OF?"

"No, father! If flying is what I want, then what other vehicle is there besides the fighters? If the ancient histories were right, the winged forms came long before OFs!"

"No, Hanzo. We're taking steps to prevent any more deaths from fighter incidents. Didn't you hear about the Alpha Wing incident?"

"Pfeh, they were all amateurs. Now, the Delta Wing squadron--"

"Hanzo," Kenjo hardened his voice. "There is no way you're going to pilot a fighter unless you're an officer in the UNSF. It is among our family's tradition for you to at least become a medical physician like your mother."

"But--"

"Enough," his father said once more with an enforcing edge to his voice. "Now, I believe your mother was looking for you earlier. I believe she has something for you."

Shaking his head slightly, the pilot of the UNSF returned to the present. He always had been a dreamer. That much Hanzo had to admit. It seems like he always took more after his mother, barring the medical part. The dreamer's lazy brown eyes and the easygoing disposition were something that he never seems to inherit from his father.

Suddenly, Hanzo found himself thrown from his chair and onto the main console of his fighter. He quickly pushed himself off of the console and did a quick check. So far, everything wasn't damaged. He fell back into his seat. Before he could even press the communicator on the console, another shattering force struck him from his seat, causing him to fall onto his console once more. His mouth struck the LCD screen that detailed the status of the ship. Tasting blood, Hanzo pushed himself off of the console once more and quickly pressed the button on the communicator.

"Launch Bay to Bridge!" Hanzo shouted, another violent force struck the entire ship. "What the hell is going on up there?"

"Bridge to Launch Bay!" a woman's panicking voice quickly replied. "I've no idea but it seems that we're being attacked! Commander Jakson!"

To Hanzo, it seems as if whoever was up in the Bridge had suddenly forgot to sever the communication to where he was. He heard the sound of boots striking the deck as personnel hurried to stand and salute the commanding officer of the ship.

"Ensign O'neil, give a hail to the attacker," the commander's calm and mellow voice said calmly. "I've an idea who it might be."

"They're not answering! They're not answering us, Commander!" came the panicked near scream of the woman Hanzo was speaking to earlier. "What'll we do, sir!"

"Calm down, O'neil. They'll reply. Give them time. These rebels are just packing minor weapons. They won't hurt us. Shields still holding up?"

"They're still firing at us!" the woman's voice was now at a shriek. "They won't reply and they're still firing at us!"

"Commander!" a new voice shouted, this one being a male. "All the engines are disabled! All the engines are offline! Shield integrity just dropped by half! Ah!"

Another body lurching force struck the great ship. This time, red klaxons and their bells blared and other pilots that Hanzo recognized began to rush into the Launch Bay. Most of them were still groggy and their motions were uncoordinated. All but the veteran pilots were scared, as Hanzo noted their pallid and slightly sweaty look.

"Shields are holding, sir, but just barely! Anti-matter engines are stable but currently offline! Automated laser turrets cannot be activated all over the ship! They've jammed us so badly that we can barely even send inter-ship communications!" the ensign's voice screamed on the communication unit. "Commander Jakson! What're we gonna do!"

"Hold fast! Get me Engineering!" the Commander's voice sliced through the din of the bridge. "Bridge to Engineering, get me those engines online, now!"

"Engineering, Bridge!" a man's husky voice came on. "We need time to get the main engines online! Since we have come so close to Mar's orbit, we're not sure if a hot or cold start can be done! The auxiliary engines are still working, can you work with those?"

"Damn it, Lars! We're under attack, so get me those main engines online so we can do what we've been trained to do!"

"Listen to me, Jakson! There is no chance in Hell's Gates that we're going to be able to bring the anti-matter engines online in under ten minutes unless you are willing to risk the lives of half of the Engineering staff just so you can blow Martian rebels into pieces!"

Hanzo heard a crash, possibly from the Commander slamming his fist against a metal surface. "Lars, you bastard! If you don't get those engines online within thirty minutes, we're all going to be eating vacuum! You're the one with the responsibility of all of the crews' lives in your hands! Choose, Lars!"

Through the radio's silence came the heavy breathing of Commander Jakson and the barely audible mumbling of the Head Engineer.

"… Dead start's gonna be rough, Jakson. If we don't fuck up, you'll be lucky to even have half of Engineering alive let alone the engines themselves." Before Jakson could reply, Head Engineer Lars broke the communication.

"We're down to this..." Hanzo heard the ship's commander whisper. "We've no choice now..." Jakson then spoke in a cracking voice. "Send a ship wide call for all hands on deck and to battle stations! Deploy all flight combat vehicles into space! Prepare all emergency evacuation ships!"

Hanzo quickly broke the connection as he saw more and more people pour into the Launch Bay. Mechanics in their blue uniforms began to do pre-flight checks on every single unit that was capable of flight. Over near the doors that separated the vacuum area from the landing and storage strip, red uniformed flight controllers began to ease into their seats and pull on their communication devices in the form of headphones. More and more pilots in their gold uniforms with varying patches of red to silver poured into their rides, most being LEVs and fighters. But the few with silver insignias stayed behind, possibly waiting for something to happen.

"Attention all crew," the commander's voice blared from the ship-wide intercom. "We're under attack from Martian rebel forces. Engines are all down but the ship has enough momentum to sustain us in orbit. We have identified the enemy and will mount a counterattack. However, as our engines are disable, we are running on auxiliary power. All noncombatant personnel please remain calm and ready for evacuation in the case the shields fail.

"All crew must report to their areas. Sick bay, prepare for casualties. Security and Defense, automatic turrets are offline but all of the manual turrets are still online and accessible. Engineering, engines are down so please bring them back online!

"Delta Wing squadron, prepare for launch. Zeta Wing squadron, prepare for launch. Launches will commence in ten minutes. Until then, say your prayers and hope for the best. Ladies and gentlemen, good luck."

Hanzo was stunned. He had always wondered why the Martians had always been a sore thorn in most of the older fighters he had spoken with. He just never understood why the descendants of Earth would rebel. Hanzo knew that the Martians were commonly referred to as Enders but it seems to be a rather interesting title to have. An Ender sounded like one who is resourceful and skilled in survival, sort of the like the romantic images that were usually conjured up about the Rangers of the old American West.

"Hey, Hanzo!" a woman's voice called from outside of his fighter. Turning towards the sound, he nearly fell out of his seat as he saw the woman in question peering rather closely at him just mere inches from the protective metal canopy.

The woman, wearing the red flight uniform with a blue patch over her rather enticing chest, had her face several inches from the canopy. Her eyes were cobalt blue, a shade that Hanzo found sometimes intimidating but also rather entrancing. Her skin was fair but mildly tanned. A slightly hooked nose was centered on her face, giving her the look of a falcon with a small beak. She was quite a popular girl among the men of the three wings that were housed on the Yokohama. Rumors had it that she dated several famous sport superstars before giving up on her quest for true love and joined the military.

"Serena? Aren't you supposed to be doing preflight check on your LEV?" the man of Japanese descent cried incredulously as several fighters shifted towards the last segment of the Launch Bay.

"Hehe... Hanzo, Hanzo, Hanzo... what part of keeping your cool in combat did you forget?" Serena teased as she continued to look serenely down upon her friend. "Besides, the Seraphim will be launched after you. Remember, you're Delta Wing while I'm Zeta Wing."

Serena then pointed over at the other side of the Launch Bay. Her finger rested on a great LEV that could be mistaken for an Orbital Frame. It had imitation wings on the back with white and light blue armor, giving it the look of its namesake, the Seraphim. Both of its mechanical hands were poised in a relaxed clench, giving it a restful look but also one of caution. The pilot seat was where the head was, as most LEVs and OFs have their pilots' command from. The legs of the LEV were a bit on the small side, a possible sacrifice that the designers had to do to ensure that the Seraphim were of the Striker, or Guerilla, class.

The Seraphim was of the Archangel-Striker Class. The fifth in the series, this class is mainly used as a scout and light combat support. Equipped with everything from the standard Laser Blade in the right arm's grip to the class only special weapon, the "Fallen Angel", the Seraphim is easily recognized as a versatile and lethal weapon. The "Fallen Angel" was a halberd-like weapon that was housed in the backpack. Fully extended and powered to the maximum, the long halberd with green energy blades was strong enough to slash a massive carrier into two with a single stroke. On the upper arms of the Seraphim were two SR-22 Energy Cannons which were better known as the "Twin Crescent Beam". These beams rivaled those of standard laser batteries that covered the Yokohama. Each was capable of punching through armor backed by Metatron but in doing so would drastically deplete the power aboard the Seraphim.

Compared to the Seraphim, Hanzo's fighter was painted black all over with four red stripes spaced evenly on each wing. On the tailfin was Hanzo's insignia as a Captain in the UNSF with a katana piercing through the symbol with a tassel hanging from the hilt of the ancient Japanese weapon. Instead of having twin turbojets that the rest of the wing had, Hanzo opted for the single turbojet with two auxiliary afterburners on each side. His logic was that if one engine was downed, the other would surely also be disabled. Therefore, it's best to just stick with one. That way, you'd be more cautious and aware of your surroundings. Under the wings and under the cockpit were five banks of laser cannons. Two each were housed under each black wing and the last small but auto-lock cannon was under the nose. But these were not the only weapons Hanzo's little "Rekka" carries. Inside each laser cannon was a small detonator capable of blasting through caves and whatever places enemies and rebel resistances would hide. Whenever each cannon was drained of energy, all Hanzo would have to do is either order the computer to disengage the laser banks or just press the black and yellow button on the console before him.

Another body jarring force sent Hanzo back to reality from his dream world. Serena fell from his fighter and landed not too gracefully on her feet. The sound of metal boots with rubber soles crunching into the metal plate decking caused the fine hairs on Hanzo's neck to rise slightly. Pressing the plain yellow button on his ship's console, the protective canopy slid back and Hanzo stood up.

"You all right?" he shouted as two fighters exited with a roar from the inner launch bay. The two great arms, also known as catapults, that gave the two fighters a much-needed boost quickly fell back into place, ready to launch two more units.

"I'm alright!" Serena called over the ruckus of people shouting orders at one another. "I guess you're ready for combat! Go get 'em, ace!" She quickly ducked and ran across the runway, narrowly missing a flight engineer that was in the middle of calculations.

"Thanks!" Hanzo shouted at her running back. "You the same, Serena!" As she climbed into her LEV, Hanzo gave a final wave before sitting back down into his machine. Pressing the yellow button once more, the canopy slid over his head.

The lights in the small cockpit Hanzo were dimmed slightly. Pressing his hand onto the recognition point, the backlights on the main consoles lit up. Pulling his combat visor over his head, the small plastic screen over his eyes lit up with a series of system commands.

Starting engine...>

Reactor online...>

Running flight program...>

Query: Initiate weapons program?>

"No," Hanzo said as he flexed his fingers before touching the flight controls. "Disable weapons program until further notice."

Acknowledged.>

Query: Mission program not installed. Search again?>

"Hold on a sec, computer," Hanzo absentmindedly said as he fished around in his pockets for the mission data chip. As he searched, he realized that since this mission was not planned, he'd have to do his mission as it unveils itself.

"Computer, mission data chip not found. Requesting for manual override for mission programs. Initiate manual controls."

Initiating manual override...>

Manual override complete.>

Initiating manual controls...>

Manual controls complete.>

Autopilot shutting down...>

Program AP-09 shutting down...>

Full manual controls on.>

Parts of the console shut off their lights, their indicators showing no data. Hanzo ignored these as he reached for the small blue screen to the right of the main screen and pressed the green triangle button on the bottom right corner. The rest of the automated systems shut down, leaving only the lights and indicators for the flight, weapons, navigation and life support systems on.

Incoming dispatch...>

Origin: Engineering Department, Science Section.>

"Captain Nakamura!" a gray-haired man of Japanese descent panted on the green communication unit. "Son, you've got to get in there quick! Security's up to their necks in damaged defenses! You've got to take the load off of me!"

"Father!" Hanzo quickly replied as he slid his hands into the flight control gloves that were attached to the control sticks. "I'll be right out there!"

"Hanzo!" Kenjo said as a shower of sparks lit up behind him, possibly from another strike on his region. "Whatever you do, don't do anything crazy!"

"I won't, Father! Listen, Head Engineer Lars is going to initiate a cold start! Please get out of there and work on those laser banks! I won't rest until you get those laser banks repaired!"

Hanzo quickly raised the controls and maneuvered towards the outer Launch Bay. He nearly struck a LEV that was in the way, barely grazing the hull of the other waiting ship by centimeters in his fervor. Impatient at waiting for the signal to be launched, Hanzo sighed and slid his right hand out of the controls to reactivate the AI program.

AI Program initiating...>

Program "Rekka" ready.>

What is your query?>

The artificial intelligence's voice was feminine. Over the years, one of the things the military found was that AI programs with a feminine voice usually have their pilots obey their mission objectives at least ten times more than those with monotone AIs, let alone male voices reminiscent of drill instructors. In Hanzo's case, the feminine voice was a welcome change from the dull silence he had suffered from back in flight combat training.

"Rekka, can you reactivate enough programs to keep this thing going while I make some calls?"

Certainly. Initiating autopilot-three mode. Raising combat alert to ten-maximum. AI on standby.>

Fiddling with the communicator unit on his console, Hanzo began to raise the rest of his squadron, just to see if they're ready for combat.

"Marko?" Hanzo said into the unit as he watched four LEVs closest to the outer Launch Bay exit the ship. "Hey, Marko!" Some static came over the comm unit before a voice replied.

"Heeeey! What's ze big idea, Hanzo? Can't ya let a guy get some peace before a fight?" a man's baritone voice whined with a bit of a German accent. "By my word! What ze hell didja vant?"

Hanzo grinned as he pictured the brown haired Earthling with an impish face that was always thinking of how to concoct some trouble. Marko was from Germany and one of the few Earthlings that actually were happy to get off Terra Firma. Hanzo met Marko back in the Yokohama Military Academy ten years ago when both of them were only seven. His mother, who was a trauma surgeon, had dragged along Marko, and both of them were lonely since both of their parents were always busy working. It was by mere chance that they were both assigned together on the mechanics of a fighter as a joint project back in school.

Since those days, both had managed to at least meet their parents' expectations, although those expectations were hoping for something a little higher than just a passing grade. While Hanzo followed his dreams of becoming a fighter pilot, Marko took the more cautious route. He took several classes in ranged combat so that he could support Hanzo and his platoon, just like how he would help Hanzo when they were children.

Marko's combat vehicle was also a fighter but it was of a special caliber. Instead of being a completely pure combat fighter, Marko's was capable of shifting parts to become a LEV. But this sort of transformation limited Marko's onboard weaponry to only the bare necessities so that he can still have his dear long ranged weapons while meeting the maximum weight requirements.

Marko's hybrid LEV/Fighter was known by Delta Wing as the "Zeus". Like the ancient mythical Greek god of thunder and lightning, the hybrid vehicle when in LEV mode was similar to that of a metal man ready to cast bolts of lightning from both arms. But when it was in its Fighter mode, it was shaped like an eagle, the main symbol of the Thunderer. With its ability of flight, the turrets for electricity were shifted from the arms to the sides of the cockpit, a precarious place to position such lethal and unpredictable weaponry. But Marko had reassured his wing that he would never use them unless he was sure he could strike the target.

"Hehe... ready for the battle?" Hanzo nervously chuckled.

"Battle? What ze hell you talking about? This iz not a battle, it's a freakin' skirmish! We're fighting Martians with ancient weapons!"

"Really? Then how the hell did they manage to disable the Yokohama's engines and the defenses?"

"Vhat! Zey did!"

"... You're not on top of things today, are you, Marko?"

"... Shut up. I'd like to see you be on top after working graveyard shift."

"Relax, Marko. Where the hell are you anyway?"

"You can't see me! I'm almost ready to kick some Martian ass! Just need to wait on this fugga before me to move his assload of metal before it's my turn!"

Just as Hanzo was about to reply, the entire Launch Bay shook and both the red alert and yellow caution lights turned on. As the pilot looked furtively about, a missile pierced through the bay doors and struck the launch pad where the LEVs and fighters gained an extra launch boost. The entire platform exploded, destroying most of the mustered mobile defense squadron that were around it. Hulking wreckage littered the gateway to the final bay door where freedom and the enemies lie in wait.

"Marko! The launch boosters are taken out!" Hanzo shouted as he slid his hands back into the flight controls. "We've gotta do something and fast!"

"Marko?" Hanzo shouted once more into the comm unit. "MARKO!"

Silence, save for the crackle of the transmission.

"No..." Hanzo whispered in disbelief. "No! Marko! Reply you miserable son of a bitch! Speak to me! That's an order from your superior officer!"

"No such luck, handsome!" a woman's voice called on the comm unit. "The main doors may be blocked but the emergency escapes will do just fine. And if I'm right, there several just to the left of your vessel."

"Huh?" Hanzo tried to pinpoint where the communiqué was coming from on his HUD unit. "Identify yourself!"

"I'll identify myself later, Hanzo. It'll be an honor to meet in combat against you in the future. Until then, at least get out of that rust bucket you call a ship, handsome."

"Wait!" Hanzo cried before the mysterious woman disconnected as he furiously scanned and typed on his console in a attempt to trace the signal. "Why are you helping me? Why would a Martian help a soldier of the UNSF?"

"Because," the woman replied silkily in an obvious tone. "You're an Ender. All Enders should stick together, handsome. Goodbye!"

"But how'd you--" Hanzo then cried out as another explosion from the catapault launch boosters blinded his sight. "Oh shit..."

Without any other options left, Hanzo slid his hands back inside the control gloves and powered up the fighter. Turning around completely, he pulled back on the controls, causing the fighter to lift into the air. Pulling one hand out quickly, he found the flight helmet he usually wore and tugged it on. Pulling down the visor, which also functioned as a HUD, with a snap, Hanzo quickly barked out orders to the AI Program as he made for the emergency escape.

"Rekka! Send a general message to every wing requesting that everyone get out for their own sakes! Make sure to include that a mystery woman is behind this attack!"

Acknowledged. Duplicating and sending messages...>

Error. Messages sent. Only twelve pilots refused to acknowledged orders.>

"Oh dammit! Send it to those fools again! Make sure that everyone in the wing at least makes it out alive. We'll rendezvous outside and meet the bogies!"

Acknowledge. Duplicating and sending messages...>

Error. Messages sent. Only one pilot refused to acknowledge orders.>

"What the- who the hell is he?"

Identifying subject...>

Subject is Lieutenant Marko Ramus Schefield.>

"Why isn't he replying?"

Subject is longer active. 78.8 chance of unconsciousness. 22.9 chance of death.>

Pilot is currently inactive.>

Query: Remove subject from team roster list?>

Hanzo was shocked and barely had any time to correct his flight path as he roared into the emergency escape tunnel. Zipping by the lights that lit the way in the outlet, Hanzo's mind was numbed that his friend was unconscious or possibly dead. The wingtips were close enough to even graze the metal of the access tunnel but the danger didn't make Hanzo more fearful of damage. His friend, one of the only few he had known very well aboard the Yokohama, wasn't able to fly.

"Well... I guess that leaves me no other choice..." Hanzo murmured hoarsely as he lowered his head. "I can't do it…"

The captain blinked furiously for a moment. When he raised his head to continue piloting through the escape tunnel, a fire had sparked in his eyes. He could feel in his heart a primal need awakening, desiring to be fulfilled with the blood of his enemies.

With each passing second, he and the other surviving pilots are going to be exposing themselves to the danger, which had disabled the ship which they had called home for almost their entire lifetime. And now, his options were few and he only liked one.

"Rekka! Initiate contact with the other fighters! Get their names, serial number, fighter type and whatever the hell they got aboard their fighters!"

One moment...>

Fighters, thirty-seven of Zeta wing, twenty-four of Delta wing>

LEVs, fourteen of Zeta Wing, twelve of Delta wing>

Zeta Wing leader, Captain Verona Zhang>

Delta Wing leader, Captain Hanzo Nakamura>

Query: Orders, sir?>

Hanzo opened his mouth to give another order but the realization of the limited firepower against the enemy finally sank in. Normally, a wing consisted of at least thirty heavy combat fighters with about twenty-four light combat fighters to support with their extensive stockpile of the Newtype FZ-42 Sidewinder Missiles. Along with that firepower, a wing is also supported with anything ranging from two to six LEVs to handle the groundwork or perhaps two pairs of OFs for those covert operations that seem to have a nasty tendency of being found out by the public.

But in any case, Hanzo's training did not prepare him for this kind of battle. Instead of having an entire ship's worth of flight combat vehicles to fight alongside with, this officer in the UNSS has only a tenth of the firepower to fight with. And to make it even scarier, Hanzo had never been in a single combat operation ever since he began as an officer. All those memories of casually training in a virtual simulator had fled him when the ship began to shake with the pounding of missiles and lasers cutting into the Yokohama.

"Rekka," Hanzo began weakly. "Give the orders to the pilots that whoever's the ranking officer out there, please take command. Tell them that anyone who has more combat experience than Captain Nakamura can take command."

One moment...>

The Captain stared at the blinking words on the screen as the AI program relayed the orders to the other ships. Looking sideways at the map screen, Hanzo watched as the tunnel began to widen as the approach to space came closer. Looking at the radar screen to the left of the map, he sighed as he began to tally his forces against those of the enemies.

From the way the radar looked, it seems that there was no way in hell that he'd be coming back to the ship. For a brief moment, Hanzo seemed detached from reality, sinking into the subconscious of his mind where time and space didn't seem to matter or move at all. Into the mind's dark abyss he fell, searching for a possibly reasonable answer to why all this was happening. Here in the quiet of his mind, he searched for the answer.

"Vector Industries reports several Martian demonstrations in front of company plants, tempers flaring over the use of human test subjects…"

"Yuji Sanada has stepped down as Vector Industries' CEO after several company guards opened fire on protesters…"

"Tatsuya Yoshiyama has been elected CEO of Vector Industries after four days of deliberation from the Board of Directors…"

"No word on whether or not CEO Yoshiyama will continue former CEO Sanada's policies for Vector…"

"Martian pilots under the pseudonym of Blood Angels have been sighted near Vector property. CEO Yoshiyama declined to comment, saying that all things will settle in due time…"

"A woman identified as the leader of the Blood Angels was been taken into custody by the Martian government. Unfortunately, the rest of the Blood Angels ambushed the police, killing ten officers and wounding fifteen. Official reports of civilian casualties from the attack number at thirty two dead and an estimated seventy five were wounded…"

"Remnants of the Martian Resistance have broadcasts on all bandwidths, all messages stating that the Blood Angels are one of them…"

"That's it…"

Hanzo opened his eyes, quickly returning to the reality of war. Back from the pit of darkness where silence was his only enemy and company, the Captain's eyes glimmered with the realization of who was behind this attack.

"Blood Angels… They'll pay!"