MainFrame: Beginnings

Scott's ears grated uncomfortably against the earholes of his helmet. The fox was only borrowing it for the flight to his new home, and the fit was less than ideal. He tried to ignore the slight pinch by watching the Pellician horizon. The quiescent Sea of Expanse slowly rolled under him. As many times as he'd dreamed of being in a plane like this, he never imagined that his first experience would be this amazing.

"Comfy back there?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine Hunter."

In the seat ahead of Scott, a much larger felinoid piloted the craft. His pale yellow ears turned as he heard the reply, then returned to attending the various sounds of the cockpit. "Nervous?"

"A little," Scott said, "but I'm glad to be out of Hytrato."

Hunter nodded his head a bit. "It's a shame really. I've heard Basi Hill was a nice place."

"There were lots of nice places in Hytrato before the Naiko Powers showed up. Then again, I also used to have a night-life before they started lockdown hours." Scott sighed and pawed an itch from the end of his muzzle. "I'm just hoping that I can fit in with this group."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Hunter advised, "just be yourself. Everyone has a real good attitude about each other. Based on your profile, you'll slip right in."

"Perhaps I should be more specific," Scott said, "I'm hoping that I don't disappoint this Mane character you keep talking about."

"Mane? He was one of the first proponents for picking you up. You shouldn't worry about him."

"From the way you describe him, he sounds. . .intense."

Hunter nodded, the motion mostly unseen because of the partition in their seat positions. "That's because he is. There are times that he's like intensity incarnate, but try not to be too intimidated. You'll get to know how he works soon enough."

Scott laughed softly to himself. "Not the sit-on-your-tail-and-throw-out-commands kind of leader, is he?"

"Mane doesn't mind getting his paws dirty when it comes to duty. He's a real warrior's warrior, the type I'd go into battle with anytime."

"That's good to know," Scott said, rubbing his handpaws over each other before smoothing the fur again, "outside of sport, the whole concept of `going into battle' still seems strange to me."

"By the time you're done training, it'll be second nature," Hunter smiled, "and the rest of the team will help you out along the way. It's amazing how close you get to those who are going to be watching your back."

"That whole life-death thing does kinda add an element of necessity there, doesn't it?" Scott joked.

Hunter laughed, "You might say that."

From outside, the compact fighter plane fit neatly into the sky and stood out simultaneously. Its swept-wing shadow whisked below as it flew a scant 1000 feet above the water. Hunter and Scott sat in the tightly equipped cockpit, a sleek one-piece canopy above their heads. Scott wasn't sure about all the panels, but did understand the small computer screen with an icon for their position. They were right where the Sea of Expanse met Lirona bay. He craned his neck over the partition to get a glimpse ahead. They were closing in on an ominous looking island at high speed. Mountainous terrain tore the skyline like a jagged pattern of teeth, waiting to chew the next meal to fly into it. The rich, deep color of the planet's soil painted the crags a dull hue against the azure sky. Foaming water lapped sheer face, seen as white fluff from a distance. A foggy mist surrounded the bottom, rising and falling like the breath of a great sleeping creature.

"Wow," Scott whispered, "what a sight."

Hunter smiled. "Welcome to Mount Cragnie."

"Mount Cragnie?" Scott repeated, "The Mount Cragnie?"

"There's only one."

Scott's brows knitted in an expression of discomfort. "When you said that the base was isolated, you didn't mention it was on the cliffs of the most dangerous island on the planet."

"Dangerous?" Hunter feigned innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Lemme put it this way: Several groups have washed up on Lirona's shore when they tried to explore it, aircraft have gone down, seacraft sunk, and birds are unwilling to even fly in that area. It's almost a Pellician legend in its own right. The ITC gave it a level 6 natural warning, of all things! Not even an Araki warrior would want to be there."

"Which makes it the perfect location for a hidden base," Hunter said with a smile.

Scott watched the range approach at high speed and began to squirm in his seat. "I'd really like to know how you managed to set up a hidden base here, but shouldn't we start turning to avoid running into the big rock?"

Hunter chuckled and clicked on the radio. "Crag City, this is Recruiter One, requesting landing protocols."

There was a brief pause before a male voice spoke, "Recruiter One, This is Crag City. Protocols transferred, autopilot engaged. Enjoy the ride."

"Hang on," Hunter said.

Scott blinked. "Hang on? To whaaaaAAAAAH!"

The plane shot forward with a burst of acceleration, pressing the two riders into their seats. Scott was certain they were going to slam into the side of the mountain, kept silent only by the force against his chest. There was a sudden roar and a whoosh as the plane slipped effortlessly into a small part in the rock. They slowed as the outside light gave way to darkness. Rings of fluorescent light strobed the plane as it darted by. Squinting forward, Scott made out a vague disk of brightness approaching at high speed. Before he could guess what it was, the plane pierced the light and lowered onto a short landing strip. Scott felt his body jerk against the seat restraints and come to rest against the back of the chair at the abrupt stop.

A hydraulic hiss filled the air, accompanied by a low whirring sound. In the back seat of the powerful Frame Fighter, Scott felt his handpaw trembling, partially from nervousness and part from the harrowing landing. He lifted the sleek visor on his helmet and coughed a hoarse tone.

"Sorry about that," Hunter chuckled.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What?" Hunter asked, "I didn't think a little landing would faze you?"

"Excuuuuuse me for not being accustomed to hurtling through small tubes at unsafe speeds in pitch blackness before coming to a jerking stop every day!"

Hunter smirked. "You'll get used to it."

"Thank you mister compassio-whoa." Scott's voice lowered to a reverent whisper as the light of the landing bay gave way to a completely different view. Gazing from the clear canopy, the gray color of a large hangar floor gradually approached as their hydraulic elevator slowly spiraled to the ground. Scott could see across to where a small complex of buildings lay closely intertwined with one another. In the center of the hangar, a clear chute dropped from the ceiling into another set of structures. As the ground got closer and the elevator slowed, the fox took in the details of the three massive constructions behind him. The center one loomed partially over the other two like a dull metallic canister. The buildings to the left and right of the centerpiece curved flush with the circular wall. Though Scott could not tell their purpose, the very visible reds and yellows said `keep away'. Eventually, the platform slowed and stopped with a gentle jolt.

Hunter gunned the engines and the plane slowly lurched forward. "We'll taxi to the parking circles and then disembark."

Scott smirked, "Thank you for flying Masochist's Paradise, we hope you had a pleasant flight and fly with us again."

"Who knows," Hunter smiled, "the next time we fly together, you might be in this seat."

"You're kidding, right," Scott said, "I've only flown flight sims before. How am I going to learn a thing like this?"

"The learning curve is a lot easier than you'd think," Hunter said.

"I hope it's that way for everything," Scott said.

"I'm afraid not," Hunter smiled, "some things will be tough, and others will seem impossible."

"Well, since you put it THAT way."

Hunter carefully guided the plane atop a large marked circle and engaged the wheel brakes. "You're about to meet a lot of fursons, but don't let it faze you," he said, his voice meshing with the sound of releasing valves and engaging rotors, "you'll learn more about them as time goes on, but it's better to know who's who before you jump into our lifestyle."

The fox looked down as the floor opened beneath him, revealing the ground below. His seat lowered with smooth acceleration, hovering a comfortable distance for Scott to leap down once in range. With both feet on the ground, the hangar seemed to double in size and scope. The short period of gawking ended when Hunter gave him a slight nudge.

"Ready to get started?"

"Jeez, this place is unreal," Scott murmured, turning to face Hunter, "How long have you guys been here?"

Hunter placidly removed his flight gloves in thought, large furry handpaws bearing a yellowish hue on the outside and a darker complexion on the underside. His head stuck out from his flight suit as his heavy frame and impressive body height became apparent. He had a long yellowish mane that flowed easily about his shoulders where the suit cut off the pattern of black stripes on his back. His muzzle was not overly large, but well proportioned to give him a handsome appearance. Hunter's bluish eyes were adorned with large, expressive eyebrows. His long, pale yellow tail curled into a graceful low arc behind him with no motion but an occasional flick at the very tip.

"It's been a while," the tiglon said, "I rarely try to keep up with days. For me, timing is more important than the time."

"Yeah," Scott muttered, grabbing the bag he'd brought along, "so, when do I get to meet the big guy?"

"Soon," a female voice spoke out.

The fox turned to see a tall collie coming in their direction. A similarly sized lioness strode next to her with long steps. Both females were dressed in baggy blue pants and wore beige work boots designed to fit their footpaws. The lioness sported a white tank top exposing a well-toned upper body that bespoke graceful power. The collie had on a white T-shirt tucked into her pants on one side. Scott looked up as both ladies approached, noticing that they were almost two feet taller than him.

The fox gawked briefly, "You guys grow `em big around here."

"Welcome to the hangar-garage deck," the lioness smiled, "I'm Sarah."

"I'm Andrea," said the collie.

"And I'm impressed," the fox said, still in awe, "this is quite the setup."

"You must be Scott," Andrea continued with a smile, "welcome to the team."

"Uh, of course. I had forgotten that everyone was waiting for me."

"Don't let it faze you," Hunter said, shrugging, "new members tend to draw attention."

Andrea smiled and motioned in the direction she came from. "Let's walk toward the lift terminal and I can give you a general overview of this place," she said, leading the group toward the middle.

"You're in charge of this oversized factory?" Scott asked.

"I prefer to think of it as `power with' instead of `power over'." The collie passed a conspiratorial wink to Sarah. "You'll get the feel of how authority is handled as you go along. Just remember, we're all part of the same team here."

They started toward the center of the area where the large cylindrical tube connected the ceiling to the floor. Scott looked around quietly as Andrea spoke again.

"Those two huge structures behind us are the repair bay and the manufacturing bay. Damaged materials can be reprocessed through them, and new items can be created. That's our major source of planes and weapons."

"And that large. . .thing. . .over both of them in the middle?"

"That's where the raw materials are stored," Andrea said, "we can't make something from nothing you know. It's called mass conservation."

"Of course," Scott said, smirking.

Sarah directed his attention forward. "Andrea's office is right near the lift terminal. She's the one to go to for vehicle repairs, technical specs or things like that. I tend to specialize in weaponry, so if you have a question about that, just ask!"

"Okay," Scott said, "what kind of weapons are you talking about?"

"I'll talk about any kind," Sarah said, "but through practice, I'm sure you'll be introduced to the use of our standard bolter, and at least the pulse rifle. But if you want to get more exotic, we can do that too."

"Sweet," Scott said with a grin.

"Across the way," Andrea said, "those two buildings are used for briefings and simulations. You'll probably spend a lot of time there, trying to get used to the way that a FrameFighter handles."

"Heh, I was going to ask Hunter about what the name of that plane was?"

Scott looked at the aircraft behind him with quiet respect. Several were lined up in a row next to the one that he and Hunter had arrived in. Each plane had a sleek dark color that could either seem light gray or black depending on the flying conditions. The sliding bay under the cockpit that allowed access was near invisible from the distance. Three engines powered the back; one rounded rectangular nozzle took up most of the space, bordered by two smaller circular engines. Angled tail fins added a stylish touch. The only monogram on the plane was a `M' and a `F', connected diagonally from the top and bottom.

"We've nicknamed them FrameFighters, since we don't really know who made them," Andrea said, continuing on quickly, "If you're into the who technical aspect, the design specifications are absolutely fantastic. It's a true marvel of engineering skill and aeronautic science. If you ever want to find out more about them then just ask, I'd be more than happy to discuss it."

Hunter whispered discreetly to the fox, "Fair warning, you don't want to do that."

Sarah prodded Hunter in the ribs, tsking him with a glance. "And why not? Is there something wrong with tech talk?"

"Of course not, dear," Hunter said, grinning, "I just don't want his brain bleeding out of his ears before he gets started."

"Oh, we won't this time," Andrea said with a grin, "we've worked that problem out already. Promise that won't happen again."

"Uh," Scott mrred, "okay, thanks."

Sarah laughed. "You two are terrible! We're really not that bad, Scott."

"Well," Scott said, smiling a little, "I'd like to keep what little brain I have at the moment. We can experiment with tech talk later, kay?"

"Deal," Sarah agreed.

The small group eventually reached the lift terminal after a good walk. Scott could see the two fairly large cylindrical tubes disappear into the floor, and, a great distance higher, into ceiling. A small post between the cylinders had a single red button that hung like a jewel in an unremarkable mount. Hunter pressed the button, and a low hum issued from the tube. Scott watched a small disk lower from above before settling flush with the floor. The glass doors shimmered apart with a gentle hiss.

"By the way," Andrea added, "Mane said he'd be waiting in the command center." She smiled at Scott. "We'll make sure your bag gets to your quarters so you two can have a look around."

Hunter smiled. "Thanks. Ready to go, Scott?"

"We're gonna ride on that?" the fox lamented, "it looks like it's going to fall through the floor as soon as I step on it!"

"That's a perfectly good magnetic resonance lift," Sarah explained, "It'd take about five hundred of you to get close to critical normalization."

"Excuse me, miss wizard," Scott said, "what is that supposed to mean in plainspeak?"

"It means you're not going to fall," Hunter said, stepping into the lift. Scott watched the disk, noting that it didn't shift with the added weight. Hunter raised a brow. "Are you coming?"

"Well, if it can hold you, then I guess it'd be alright for me," Scott said, stepping on.

"Level 1," Hunter instructed as the shimmering doors closed.

As the opaque disc began a slow acceleration upward, Scott contemplated the moving world outside. The clear lift allowed a passing view of other levels as they moved by. "Level 1? Is that the command center?"

"Among other things," Hunter said, "To the left of the lift is the meeting room. You'll get to know it pretty well since that's where we do most of our briefings. Mane and I both have `offices' on this level just to the right, though we are often around and about if you need to talk to us."

"Offices, eh?" Scott grinned in a mischievous manner. "Do I get an office?"

Hunter laughed a little. "Believe me, the office is just a designated place to do some planning or thinking. Just give a yell on the intercom and we'll respond quicker."

"Alright."

Hunter continued. "Behind the lift terminal and down the hall is the archival room. It's got some tactical information and records of silo activities. Your communications station is located in the command center itself."

Scott rubbed his handpaws together. "Eeeeeeexcellent. I can't wait to tear it open and start making modifications."

Hunter raised a brow. "I don't think that will be necessary."

"Why not? That's what I do." Scott crossed his arms matter-of-factly. "Did you know that the ITC communications standard is just an attempt to keep speeds down? Machinery is capable of so much more if you just tweak it a little here and a little there-"

"You won't need to do any tweaking," Hunter said, "in fact, you might actually have to read the manual to get a few hints."

"Ha!" the fox laughed, "I've worked on everything from coat hangars to the Macaw system and never needed a manual."

"I doubt you've seen what we have in here."

The lift doors parted and Hunter walked out with Scott. Unlike the gray concrete of the hangar, shiny tile gave the area a sense of importance. One hallway lead left and another one wound around the lift terminal to the right. The most prominent feature was a set of closed double-doors directly ahead. A small tag on the right read `Command and Control' in bold letters. The doors disappeared into the wall as Hunter came near, and they both entered.

The mute sound of working computers and processing beeps filled the room. Tile stretched right and left until it came flush with the siding. A large videoscreen hung impressively on the curved wall across from the entrance, displaying a recognizable map of Pellicia. They stood on a rectangular platform with two wide ramps on the right and left of a slender strip. Though the ramps dipped out of sight, presumably to the floor, the center extension remained level. At the end of the walkway, another circular platform looked out over the command center like a promontory. A lone figure stood there, his back to Hunter and Scott. The fox knew who it was by instinct.

"Welcome back, Hunter. Greetings, Scott." Mane's voice had bass, but was not obnoxiously deep. He turned to them as they walked toward the platform with a subtle smile on his face.

Scott opened his mouth dumbly. "That be me," he said, as he walked to a comfortable conversing distance, "and you must be Mane?"

The lion nodded with the same subdued smile. "Most of the time."

Despite his active imagination, Scott found himself surprised to finally see Mane. He was a remarkable lion that looked at least as tall as Hunter. He wore long blue pants that puffed liberally to contain powerful legs. A coal black belt raced around his waist, culminating in a modest but powerful silver buckle. A white shirt cascaded over his robust chest and taut abdomen. Mane's short sleeves gave way to biceps that appeared chiseled out of tawny fur rock, extending over his forearms to furry handpaws and fingers. The lion's mane framed his face with a gradient of golden brown, protruding gracefully from under his chin and neck.

"So," Scott started, trying to seem casual, "what should I call you? Sir? Sire? Your majesty?"

Mane smirked. "When I'm not Mane, sir will be fine."

"Er, how am I supposed to know when what is what?"

"Believe me," Mane's voice dipped to a lower temblor, "when it's time to use `sir', you'll know."

"Uh, yes sir." Scott swallowed.

Mane motioned to the edge. "If you stand over here, you can have a better look around the command center."

Scott approached the railing and looked over the side. The platform provided an impressive view of the room. The two ramps came to an end on both sides of the circular promontory, merging seamlessly into the black tile of the lower level. Complex machinery arced around the front center of room, creating a menagerie of illuminated lights and panels. Motion on the right caught his attention, near a particularly active looking panel. A stoical looking black panther conversed with a large grizzly bear. They noticed Scott looking at them and gave a brief wave before lapsing back into whatever they were talking about.

Scott waved back. "Who are those guys?"

"The bear is Norman and the panther is Bradford," Hunter said, "Those two are the geniuses that run our monitoring and battle systems."

"Nice," said Scott.

"When you get the chance, take time to get acquainted. During combat, they'll be your eyes and ears."

Scott nodded and crossed his arms. "So where's this communications machine that is so big and bad that I'm going to need a manual?"

Mane made a head motion to the left side of the room. "Your station is over ther-"

"WHOA!" Scott leaned onthe opposite side railing for a better look. "That looks like a Jalen-Loc 5x Multicom Valax system!"

Hunter raised a brow at the overexcited fox.

Mane cast a curious glance at Hunter before answering Scott. "Actually, that particular unit outstrips anything Jalen-Loc ever produced."

"Are you kidding," Scott exclaimed, "a machine that beats out the top comm designers on the planet?"

"Believe it." Mane's subtle smile returned. "That machine is about fifty times as powerful as the Jalen-Loc 6x was supposed to be."

Scott gaped, "Fifty times better than the revolutionary, never-before-conceived, going to cost more money than I can imagine, used only for the highest, most secret-"

"That's the point," Hunter cut in.

"Hrm," Scott muttered, "where did you get such a machine? They don't just appear out of thin air."

"You're right, they don't," Mane responded in a flat tone, "in fact, there are a lot of things in this silo that didn't appear out of thin air but are here anyway. Trust me when I say that they were placed here to be put to good use, and that is all that is important."

Scott glanced over his shoulder with a downturned ear. He could tell from Mane's tone that the lion had no intention of answering the question directly. Attempting to dissipate a potentially awkward silence, he cleared his throat. "I can't wait to get started on it."

"You'll learn it fast," the lion assured him, "and the sooner the better. The command center is our main contact to the outside world and we need you at the helm."

"I'll have it down as fast as I can," Scott smiled, "you can count on me."

"Excellent," Mane smiled, "your expertise will complete the ensemble. We'll be able to monitor everything from the weather to the movement of vehicles here. Part of what Brad and Norm are working on is the Sky-eye, our visual monitoring system."

"I've heard of that, but only in concept," Scott thought aloud, "last I heard it was at least a decade away from being feasible."

"Well, here, it might be less than ten months. It uses a minimizing triangulation pattern combined with orthogonal trajectories to produce ultra-resolution images of almost anyplace on the planet."

"That's," Scott trailed off, "that's more power than I can imagine."

"It would be," Mane corrected himself, "but it's not quite activated yet. Brad and Norm are working on compiling the system now, but when it's ready, it'll be worth the wait."

"Scott," Hunter cut in, "you can stop drooling."

"Sorry," Scott slurped, "all this stuff is making me excited."

Mane passed between the pair and moved toward the exit. "We have a lot of silo to see, so let's get the tour on, shall we?"

* * *

"Welcome to level 2," Mane said as he stepped out of the lift.

The floor was carpeted with a light blue material with the consistency of Astroturf. Scott's eyes followed the rough carpet down a long, wide hallway extending directly ahead. The bordering walls bore pleasant patterns in three tones. Directly right and left, similar halls stretched into the distance. Flattened corners joined the halls, making the atrium comfortably large. Opaque glass double doors were on the flat face of each corner.

"Recreation, hm?" Scott toed the turf tentatively. "Exactly what kinds of recreation do you have here?"

Mane motioned to the door on the left. "That's the library. If it doesn't have the book you're looking for, it can get it. That door on the right leads to the holorooms."

Scott smiled. "Sounds like my little piece o' paradise. What kind of holoroom programs do you have?"

"We try to keep up to date," Mane said, "but we have a rather busy schedule. These areas are strictly for off duty time."

"Understood, Sir."

Mane led them around the lift terminal to the other side. Everything looked almost the same, right down to the doors. The only difference was the closed round back of the lift terminal. Scott ran a handpaw along the smooth protective wall as he took in the new view.

"On the right are miscellaneous reading rooms," Mane explained, "If you want a quiet place to read, that's where you'd go."

Hunter chimed in, "It also has videoscreen access to virtually every television station on the planet."

Scott looked surprised. "That's a lot of stations."

"You won't have time to get through them all," Hunter winked, "trust me."

Mane smiled at the tiglon, and indicated the left door. "That's the weight room. Though it's on the recreation level, the equipment is also used for general strength training."

"That's where I come in," Hunter said, cracking his knuckles.

"You?" Scott grinned. "If you had anymore muscles you'd hardly be able to move."

Hunter returned the sly grin. "I have to stay in shape too you know. That, and it's my job to make sure everyone else is in shape. Don't worry," he said, clamping a massive handpaw on Scott's shoulder, "you and I will be getting intimate with the machines reeeeeeal soon."

"Ooh fun," Scott murmured, "as soon as I put my shoulder back in place I'll be ret to go."

Mane almost smiled at this and headed back toward the lift. "That's it for this level. We shouldn't spend too much time here, since there are more important areas to see."

Hunter chuckled, "No need to give short shrift to recreation, Mane. After all, it's important to relieve stress."

"That remains a matter of opinion," the lion responded, disappearing into the lift terminal.

Hunter looked at Scott. "He's not one for relaxation, likes his job too much."

"Heh, hope I'm the same way," the fox replied carefully.

They finished the circle and returned to the lift terminal.

"So, where to next?" Scott asked.

"Level 6," Mane said, "the training deck."

Scott felt the fur rise on his neck. "If you don't mind, could you try to be a little more ominous next time? I don't think my blood fully froze."

Hunter laughed. "Be careful what you wish for," he said as the lift descended to level 6.

* * *

The doors opened on the sixth level with a barely audible wisp. Mane stepped out and made an immediate right, followed by Hunter and Scott. The fox looked around in awe as he entered the corridor of the hall. His perceptive nose picked up the scent of hard workouts, and the trademark clinical scent of medical facilities. "Well, this floor sure has an unusual smell to it," he said.

Mane took a deep breath and smiled. "You learn to love it."

"Or you go insane," Hunter quipped, "but that's not happened yet."

"Well, isn't that lovely," Scott said with a lopsided grin, "it's not that bad."

Mane walked over to a wall and touched a small intercom pad. When the light turned green he spoke toward it. "Libby, this is Mane."

"Why, hello, Mane," a pleasant female voice said, "what can I do for you?"

"We're showing our newest member around your deck. I thought you might want to give him some heads up on a few things."

"Absolutely! Hello Scott!"

Scott looked at the flashing pad and waved a bit. "Uhh, hi there."

"I'll be right out in a second."

"Thank you, Libby," Mane said, deactivating the pad.

Hunter looked at his chronograph and then at Mane. "Mane, if you don't mind, I'm going to go down the hall to check in on some of the training activities."

"Sounds fair, Chief," Mane replied, "we might stop in after we've learned a little of this floor."

Hunter nodded. "Alright, I'll see you two later." He turned and began down the hall.

"Later, Hunter," Scott said, waving a little.

Libby appeared from around the corner shortly after Hunter left. Scott watched the tabby cat as she approached. She was only a little taller than he was, but he was relatively certain that she outweighed him by a significant amount. Libby's tail was fluffy but feminine, swinging easily behind her as she walked. The feline wore long black pants and a short sleeved green shirt that looked like it had been cut just for her body. Scott noticed the disarming smile on her short muzzle, and smiled in return.

"Libby," Mane said, "thanks for coming."

"Of course," the feline said, "it's a rare thing to get new members."

Scott smiled. Her voice seemed more comforting face to face than over the intercom. "I'm Scott Curry," he smiled, "nice to meet you."

"Dr. Libby Chakal," Libby said, nodding her head with that same smile, "and it's good to finally meet you as well."

"Doctor Chakal?" Scott repeated, "what kind of doctor?"

"It'd be easier to ask what kind I'm not," Libby replied, laughing softly.

"Libby's the team doctor," Mane said, "essentially our walking, talking hospital."

Libby looked away modestly. "Well, that's a slight exaggeration, but close. It's really the fantastic medical facilities here that make it such a good hospital. I just run them and interpret a lot of things."

"Still," Mane said, "Libby's the one that you'll be seeing when you get a little banged up."

"When I get banged up?" Scott asked, "Don't you mean if-"

"When you get banged up," Mane repeated, "we try to minimize it, but it happens sometimes."

"And I'll fix you up as good as new," Libby smiled, "with the help of a little technology. And you can just call me Libby."

Scott nodded his head and smiled in response. "Sure, Libby."

Mane turned to Libby. "We've been showing Scott around the silo and I thought that no one would be better qualified to inform him about this deck than you and I."

Libby chuckled and said, "We do spend a lot of time down here, don't we?"

"You more than me," Mane smiled.

Libby turned to Scott. "Try not to be daunted by the way this floor looks, it's a bit complex but easy once you know what's here."

"Okay," Scott said.

"The infirmary and my offices are straight ahead from the lift. That hall right of the lift is the gym for various physical activities and a little further back are a few sparring rooms. To the left are training courses and skill simulations."

"Wow," Scott murmured, "there is a lot to do on this deck."

"You forgot to mention something," Mane smiled, nodding his head backwards.

"Oh!" Libby exclaimed, "how could I forget the P.S.I. room."

"The. . .what?" Scott questioned.

Libby started around the lift terminal. "Com'on down this way. It's a little easier to explain if you're seeing it."

The small group walked around the cylindrical lift tubes and down another hallway. It was just as the other hallways, except a little wider. Scott could see the doors long before he reached the end of the corridor, only adding to his sense of apprehension. "The P.S.I. room, you say?"

"That's right," Libby said as the doors at the end opened for her, "it stands for Psycho-somatic Input Room." She walked in. "Com'on and have a look around."

As Scott entered the room, he stopped short in obvious awe. Directly past the gray doors was a set of sliding glass doors where the carpet began to curve to the right. Through the clear material, he could see comfortable looking maroon chairs, lined side to side in a semi-circle pattern. Heavy metallic bolts locked the chairs to the dark tile floor, facing the middle. The direct center was empty, save a small stand with a comparatively massive looking button. Black paint swathed the rest of the room, making the maroon chairs and the yellow button stand out under the fluorescent lights. The glare of the glass made it hard to see more details, but Scott thought he could make out a strange contraption hovering above each chair.

"Hm," Scott said, "It looks more like a torture chamber?"

Mane smiled at him with a low brow. "That can be arranged."

"Uhhh," Scott gulped, peering through the glass again.

"Mane," Libby laughed, "he's just getting started and you're already scaring him."

Mane just smiled and walked further into the room.

Libby turned to Scott. "You're going to have to get used to Mane's sense of humor."

The corridor ended in a semi-circular room that complimented the shape of the other. A large pane of glass allowed a glimpse into the other half of the circle to where the heavy looking chairs sat. Directly below the pane, a complex looking computer panel lay dormant, save a few flickering lights. Above the glass pane, Scott counted fifteen monitors in a row, each bearing a number and two silent lights, one red and one green. Around the curve, a jointed bench provided an observation area. The fox gently brushed his dark forearm fur down as he whistled lowly.

Mane turned to Scott, standing next to the panel. "The P.S.I. room is where we run simulations that would be too dangerous to simulate in real time." He motioned through the glass. "As you've probably noticed, each chair has a headset equipped on it which essentially allows us to create the illusion of being somewhere else."

"You mean like a dream?"

"Not exactly," Mane said, "in a dream, your body is essentially asleep while your mind is still running at full go. Err, how can I explain this. . .?"

"Well, it's really more complex than I can say," Libby started, "but the experience is like having your mind taken from your body and put into a computer generated duplicate. You have total control over this duplicate, and it will give you mental feedback to a similar degree that your own body would."

"Sweet!" Scott exclaimed, rubbing his handpaws together, "It's like a holoroom game in your mind!"

"This is NOT a game," Mane stated firmly, "the reason it's called the psycho-somatic input room is because your external body will respond to what is happening in the duplicate body. If you prick yourself with a needle there, then that pain will produce similar physiological effects."

"Whoa, waitamoment," the fox said, folding his ears back, "are you saying that if I get shot in there, then its going to be like I got shot out here??"

"Not exactly," Libby responded, "but kinda. I mean, there's no real wound involved."

"And if I die in the program?"

"Hopefully, your training outside of it will prevent that from happening," Mane said.

"But," Libby cut in, "should you be killed or be seriously wounded, then the program exits and you snap out of it. But it is still a dangerous thing because your mind is responding to the trauma."

"I'm, uhh," Scott started, "sure that you all have extensive procedures in place to prevent that from happening?"

"Well, nothing works better than good training," Mane said, "but there are other things in place."

"First," Libby said, "no one does this thing alone. You have to have someone to run the machine and continuously reading your biorhythms during the whole exercise. If they feel like you're getting into a situation where you could be physically hurt, then they'll exit you." She pointed upward to the monitors. "These allow the supervisor to see `you' through an omniscient virtual camera in the simulation. Should you be in real danger, the red light will come on and you'll be out of there.

"Secondly, you have to preset your injury level before going in. This will essentially allow you the leeway of taking a hit or two if we need to make things more realistic. But if, at any time, your biorhythms drop below 50%, then the program is going to auto-exit you."

Scott snorted. "Gee, lovely. That means I can get shot in a couple of places before I get pulled out."

"Those are the breaks," Mane said, "We aren't playing a video game. We're getting ready for real combat where there can be no mistakes."

"Yeah," the fox sighed, "but for a little guy like me, it's going to take a lot less damage to take me out."

"Don't worry," Mane assured him, "the smaller you are, the smaller a target you make. Besides, once you do your first run, you'll have special settings that apply only to you. The machine is really quite remarkable."

Libby looked at Mane, then back to Scott. "The biggest danger with this whole thing is the psychological danger. The situations that you encounter in there will be, for all intents and purposes, real to you. Your mind could very well internalize any outstanding trauma. The other thing the supervisor has to do is insure that you do not endure more stress than necessary."

"How do they do that?" Scott asked.

"It's all built into your biorhythms," Libby said, "in fact, later on we'll run some tests to determine some baseline things for future reference. Any sign of post-traumatic stress syndrome will show up there too."

Scott merely nodded, giving the place another once-over. He smoothed the front of his shirt and peered closer into the simulation room. "At least we get comfy chairs while we're in there," he said, "complete with. . .what are those things on the armrests?"

"Restraints," Mane said, "and also some for the legs and torso."

"What?" Scott exclaimed.

Libby sighed. "Unfortunately, there is a minute chance that a mind can be so affected that they lose track of any reality and become violent and spasmodic. If someone rips themselves from the headset before the simulation ends-"

"The chances are so small it's virtually impossible," Mane said, cutting her off.

Libby glanced up at him briefly, then looked at Scott. "Nonetheless, you will be required to give a statement of identity when you exit a simulation before you are released."

"Statement of identity hm?" Scott grinned and raised his right handpaw, "I, Scott Curry, being of sound mind and body-"

"Not like that," Libby giggled, "it's a check phrase. Something that will identify you as you."

The fox grinned. "Oh, you mean like this? `Honest dad, some furson came in through the window and shaved my tail!'"

Libby laughed, "That works, I guess."

"Com'on," Mane chuckled, proceeding from the room, "there is still more of the silo you need to see."

"Yeah!" Scott rejoined in a matter-of-fact tone, "like where does a furson eat around here?"

"Third level," Libby said, "but we're not quite done with this deck yet."

* * *

They exited the room and went directly to the left. The hall became rather plain, a stark white hue with three widely spaced doors on the right. To the side of each door, a little marker indicated whether or not it was in use or not.

"These are the. . .um," Scott snapped his pawfingers in thought, "sparring rooms! Right, the sparring rooms."

"Correct," Mane said, glancing to a wall mounted chronograph, "and we're just in time to catch a little action."

"Err, uh. . .action?"

Libby walked to one door and looked at the marker, "We spend considerable time practicing unarmed combat. And from the looks of things, we just happened to have come at a peak training time."

Scott heard a muffled shout emerge from the room and twitched his whiskers. "Hmm, sounds interesting."

They went through the opaque door onto a hardwood floor. Several folding chairs of various sizes were on the right. The furthest wall in the room was completely mirrored, while the other two bore the same stark white color. Beyond the hardwood, an off-blue mat spanned a good fifty square feet before meeting the wall. It had a spongy consistency that was comfortable and bouncy underfoot. Scott's attention quickly moved to the two furs engaged in the center of the mat.

"There you all are," Hunter said from the side, "I thought you'd gotten lost or something."

"Funny, Chief," Mane smirked, walking over to the chairs, "how's it going?"

"Quite well," Hunter said, turning to the center of the mat, "Jessi and Edmond are just finishing up a torso practice."

"A-what?" Scott asked.

"Torso practice," Hunter said, "it's practice with close combat techniques but only from the waist up."

"Ohh," Scott said, turning his attention to the furs in the middle of the mat.

Libby glanced at the chronograph on her arm. "I need to head into the next room to watch Gerald and Vanessa. Will you three be alright here?"

"Sure," Hunter said, "I might stop over there after these two are done."

"Okay," Libby said, walking out. She turned around and walked a few steps backwards, looking at Scott, "I'll see you later then."

"Yah," the fox responded, mesmerized by the action on the floor.

The female deer on the right swung her arms out for balance before breaking down into a fighting stance. The doe wore a bodysuit that covered her from the neck down. The fit was skin tight, leaving little to the imagination. Red bands encircled the elbow and the knee, the only things breaking up the continuous black of the suit. She was not terribly tall, maybe a few inches taller than Scott. She didn't seem heavy either, especially as she leapt high into the air and swung a hoof at her opponent.

On the receiving end, a Clydesdalean horse jumped out of the way. He was much larger in comparison to his opponent, donned in the same kind of black suit she wore. A `sock' of fur puffed out at his ankles, nearly concealing his large hooves. Narrowing his dark eyes intensely, he made a charge at the doe, who nimbly hopped over him with a graceful leap.

"Who are these two?" Scott asked.

"The doe is Jessi and the horse is Edmond," Hunter said.

"She's good," the fox said, nodding in approval.

Edmond reacted with a mild chuckle to Jessi's leap, whirling around with a sweeping right hook that swung just short of the lithe doe. Jessi hopped backward to avoid the blow, nearly tripping over her own hooves. Edmond didn't give her a chance to recover, leading in with the left and doubling two rights with amazing speed. Jessi avoided the first left, but found herself without space. She moved her arms to block, the force of the punch sending her sprawling backward.

"Ow," Scott winced, "this fight doesn't seem too fair."

"That `poor doe' is one of the best warriors that we have," Mane interjected, "she used to train soldiers in the Jirinate Special Forces."

"I didn't know they LET does into Jirinate's Special Forces." Scott eyed her with a curious expression. "How'd she end up here?"

"She and I are old friends," Hunter said, "I used to be a Chief Master Sergeant in the Stratosfleet before I joined up with Mane. Jessi and I knew each other before the war."

"You must have some serious connections, coming from such an outfit."

Hunter snorted. "The Stratosfleet left much to be desired, but that's old history now."

On the mat, Edmond helped Jessi off the ground with a kind smile. They shared a brief embrace and walked off the mat to the side, talking.

Scott smiled at the kind action. "Nice to see that they are good sports."

"We have to take care of each other because no one else will," Mane said, "One of the first rules is that you never leave your teammates vulnerable to attack."

"When training, we train hard," Hunter said, "but we keep in mind that these are still team members. Save the real stuff for the Naiko Powers."

Scott scratched the back of his head nervously, "I was beginning to think that we were being too ambitious, but if everyone can fight like that, then we might just have a shot."

"And don't you forget it," whickered a deep voice.

Scott blanched as he looked up at the massive horse that seemed to loom over him.

"Edmond," Jessi laughed, "`you're scaring our new buddy. Cut it out."

"Yeah, Edmond," Scott whimpered with a slight twist of humor, "cut it out."

The horse laughed, "Just playin'." He pointed to himself with a handpaw that looked like a hoof split into two fingers and an opposable digit, "the name's Edmond St. John. You must be Scott Curry."

"That be me," Scott replied, "nice to meet you Edmond."

"Welcome aboard," Jessi smiled, "I'm Jessi Misay. I'll probably end up being your trainer sometime or other so we might as well get started pleasantly."

"Thanks," Scott smiled, taken by her disarming personality, "I look forward to it."

"How'd we look, Hunter?" Jessi smiled, "I'm thinking that we're making progress."

Hunter chuckled. "You're just as impressive as ever, Jessi."

"Hey, what about me?" Edmond whickered.

"You?" Hunter asked. He made a fist and lightly tapped the horse's shoulder. "I'd hate to come across an angry version of you in a dark alley."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Edmond chuckled, looking at Mane, "Mind if I have a word?"

"Alright," Mane replied.

"You two can stay here," Hunter said, "we'll go to the other room and check out Vanessa and Gerald." He looked at Scott. "I'm sure they'll be eager to meet you."

"Err, sure," Scott nodded.

Jessi hooked her arm toward Scott with a wink. "Shall we?"

Scott grinned and took her arm with a jovial chuckle. "But of course, dah-ling."

"Ooh, he's funny," Jessi laughed, "can we keep him?"

"By the claw," Hunter murmured, "now there are two of them." He walked to the door.

"Edmond and I will wait for you here," Mane said, glancing to the horse.

Hunter looked between the pair and nodded. "Alright. We'll return shortly." With that, Jessi led Scott and Hunter down the hall.

In the now quiet sparring room, Mane crossed his arms casually and looked at Edmond.

"Alright, Ed, I can tell you were burning to ask me a question."

Edmond nodded. "As you know, I was out on recon when the final decision to add Scott was made."

"Yes, and once again I apologize but we had a small window of opportunity."

"It's fine with me," Edmond replied, "you guys are quite capable when it comes to picking members. But nonetheless, if that little guy's gonna be watchin' my back some time or another, I'd like to know the basics, you know?"

Mane nodded, "Understandable." The lion passed a handpaw through the side of his voluminous manefur. "Scott's going to be our communications genius. He's mostly self-trained, picked up lots of tricks from here and there, and even had some jobs with InterTerri Council communications."

"Sounds like he knows his stuff," Edmond said.

"Do you remember the Vaqiri incident?" Mane asked

"You mean that really bizarre hostage crisis just outside Dvorak a few months back?"

"Yes," Mane said, "well, according to Scott, it was never supposed to be a hostage situation. It was really an attempt by the Naiko Powers to plant bombs in strategic locations around Jirinate's capital city. However, their communications were intercepted."

"Oh yeah," Edmond mused, "the news had said that an anonymous informant had tipped off the military that something was going on. That was-?"

"None other than our dear Scott," Mane nodded, "he managed to break a Naiko signal and instead of secret bombs placed all over, they had a hostage situation that ended up being resolved."

"So the little guy's got some brains behind him, impressive."

"He makes the phrase crazy like a fox mean something," Mane said, "and it turns out that he's also skilled at boomerang fighting."

"Boomerang fighting? Talk about your dying arts."

"Dying but not dead. In the handpaws of the right fur, a boomerang is a deadly weapon."

"But how'd he end up with us?"

"Turns out the Naikos were not too happy about their encryption method being discovered. Eventually they tracked him down, or rather the alias he used to broadcast, and pretty much obliterated everything that was associated with it. The guy found his house ransacked, his projects in pieces, and a scrawled warning that told him not to mess with the Naikos."

"I see," Edmond frowned.

"That's not all," Mane said, "they sent a few cheap hit men to take him out just as extra insurance. To make the long story short, Scott won."

"Not bad," Edmond said.

"Hunter made first contact and sponsored Scott in the selection process. He met the prerequisites and fit the mold of what we needed so we brought him on board. Everything else he'll need to learn, we can do here."

Edmond smiled. "Between Hunter and you, he'll be ready for combat in no time."

Mane nodded as the doors opened behind them. "That's what we're hoping for. Here they come now."

Scott was the first one to enter, followed by Hunter. The fox bore an unmistakably smitten countenance and the tiglon looked simply amused.

"So, I take it the meeting went well?"

"I'll say!" Scott whooped, "Gerald was a neat avian, but that Vanessa. . .wow! What a babe eh?"

Mane's ears perked out of his manefur in surprise. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Hunter cleared his throat and subtly shook his head to let Scott continue for amusement's sake.

Edmond crossed his massive arms in front of him with a coy smile. "Oh really? A babe you say?"

Scott took his action as a sign of acceptance. "Hoo yeah. I have this thing for big, strong herbivores and she's got the right stuff in aaaaall the right places."

Mane looked to the ceiling and turned away, putting a handpaw over his muzzle with a mild groan. Hunter swallowed a small laugh, eyes twinkling over at Edmond from above the fox.

Edmond whickered an amused laugh. "Well, if you want to get to know her, I could arrange that."

Scott looked at the horse with a hopeful expression. "Yeah? Hey, I think I'm really liking it here."

"But there are a few things you should make sure of before you go after a mare like Vanessa."

The fox's whiskers drooped. "Things?"

"Yep," Edmond said, "first off, you can't show any weakness or she'll eat you alive."

"Okay," Scott nodded, "I can do that."

"Second, be punctual or be gone. Make sure you're on time with her."

"Check."

"And the last thing you should make sure of before going after her is the easiest one."

Scott took the bait. "That being?"

Edmond locked eyes with the fox. "Make sure she isn't lifemated to anyone else on the team."

"Gotcha—" Scott cut his words short in a fit of confused blinking. Noting Edmond's rather ominous grin, he gently nudged Hunter. "Umm, what was Vanessa's mated name?"

"St. John," Hunter whispered, trying hard to keep a laugh from his voice.

"Aaaaaaaas I was saying," Scott coughed in a new tone, "Vanessa is a fine operative that I am excited to be on a team with, and I'm certain that we will have an excellent professional working relationship."

Edmond and Hunter broke into raucous laughter.

"Suuuure you were," the horse whickered, giving Scott a perfunctory pat on the back.

"Vanessa, as you might imagine, is not available at this time," Hunter said, smiling a little.

Scott picked himself up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders. "That's perfectly okay, really it is."

"Methinks the fox does protest too much," Hunter whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Well, he's not the first to make such a comment about my mate," Edmond said, stretching stretched briefly, "You get used to it. Ugh, I need to get out of this envirosuit. See you all at chow?"

"Right," Hunter said as Edmond passed by.

"Later, Mane."

"Until later, Edmond."

"Later, Scott."

"Yeah, see ya."

And with that, Edmond disappeared through the opaque doors.

* * *

"Tell me, Hunter," Scott probed, "are you involved with anyone on the team?"

Mane turned his head to Hunter with a subtle gaze. The tiglon noticed Mane's expression and evasively raised a brow. "An awfully personal question to be asking so soon, don't you think?"

The fox sighed. "I just want to make sure that I don't eat my other foot anytime soon. I need at least one to get around."

Mane interrupted Hunter before he could answer. "We'll be stopping at the biosphere and then up to the residential deck where your quarters are."

"Biosphere?" Scott gaped, attention taken, "there's a biosphere here?"

"Well, it's not quite a sphere," Hunter said, "but it gets the job done."

"Jeez! That's incredible. What kind of biosphere is it?"

"Why don't we let you see for yourself," Mane said.

Scott rested his back against the lift as it went downward. Unlike the clear tubing of the other levels, this one was frosted to prevent seeing through. The lift came to a stop and opened to a tremendous brightness. Scott shielded his eyes from the light, amazed at its luminosity. When his eyes adjusted, he gasped at the sight before him. The lift terminal let them out on a large plateau overlooking a vast tract of land. The first thing that caught Scott's eye was a large grove of trees located directly ahead. To the right and left, the fox could make out what looked like massive fields of grass. A light mist surrounded the farthest edge of the forest, encircling the bottom of a large chunk of rock protruding into the woods.

"This is incredible," Scott whispered in a reverent tone.

"Those trees comprise a virtual-forest," Mane said, "excellent if you enjoy a wooded climate. The fields are excellent replicas of plains and grasslands, complete with hills that you can see a little of. The other side is the garden, as well as scenic trails that lead through it. That big rock over there is affectionately called Cragnie Rock. It's been carved for rock climbing with slopes easy for beginners and hard enough to challenge the most extreme climbers."

"I can't believe this is all down here," Scott said, shielding his eyes with a handpaw, "how is that sunlight getting in here?"

"It's a simulated sun," Hunter said, "and it's mostly used for the other half of the biosphere."

"Other half?" Scott said, turning around.

Raised from the natural areas, a vast structure took up almost a quarter of the space. It resembled a large factory, complete with tubes running into the walls and ceiling high above. Amid the greenery surrounding it, the building seemed almost out of place.

Hunter motioned to the gray structure. "That's the agricultural center there where we grow or manufacture the majority of the food we eat here. Inside are giant stasis cells where food is stored for later. There's also some hydroponics stuff I think, and a place for meat preparation." The tiglon shrugged. "That's more of Norman's thing. He's the one with the green thumb."

"The bear," Scott said, "I wouldn't have guessed."

"You'll find that members of the team have a lot of hidden talents," Mane said.

"I'm certain I will," Scott replied.

Hunter motioned toward the lift terminal, "Time to head up to the third level, residence."

"Right," Mane responded, "and also the cafeterium."

"You mean the mess hall?" Scott asked, grinning.

"No," Mane smiled, "the cafeterium. Norman doesn't like the idea of `mess' too much."

"He cooks too!?" Scott exclaimed.

"When it's not machine-prepared, Norman's the cook," Hunter said with a wink, "and you should always be nice to someone who handles your food."

"Or could crush you into a bloody pulp at a whim," the fox murmured as the lift doors closed.

* * *

The lift doors parted to reveal a comfortably lit hall with a very different atmosphere. The colors of the walls seemed specifically designed to invoke a homey feeling, complete with hanging lights from a high popcorn ceiling. The carpet was firmly knit, but still soft underfoot. Scott could see opaque doors beyond a curving partition with a sign clearly marked as the cafeterium. The hall curved around in a gentle arc with doors spaced at even intervals along the way. Scott noted nametags on various doors.

"Your room is this way," Mane said, disappearing to the left beyond the partition.

"Each furson has their own room?"

"Unless specifically requested otherwise, yes."

"Hey," Scott smiled, seeing his name appear on a small nametag, "here I am, and right next to-"

"Me and Norman," Hunter said, "so you'd better behave."

"Who me?" Scott chuckled, "Well, it'll take some time, but I'm sure you two will get used to me."

"We'll see who's getting used to who," the tiglon grinned.

Mane pressed a button on the door and it opened with a soft whisk. "After you," he offered.

Scott felt a momentary apprehension stepping into his new living space, but quickly got over it. The first thing he noticed was the large size of the room, about 20' x30' with a high ceiling. A small raised pedestal in the middle rear had a simul-woodframe bed with his bag on top of it. There was no carpet on the floor; marble tile tessellated a diamond pattern from wall to wall. One drawer was snug against the right wall, with a mirror above it. Aside from that, the room was essentially bare.

"Inside you've got all the amenities you should need," Mane said, coming in from behind, "Intercom is voice activated, there's a private bathroom around the left corner. It's pretty empty right now, but you have the option of setting up your room as you please."

Scott glanced around. "If this is to be my castle, I suppose I'm going to want to make it as comfortable as possible. Lava lamp here, a few hanging plants here, and I just can't live without my fine dishes!"

Hunter laughed. "You pretty much sleep here, and that's all. There's a lot to do, so you might not get around to redecorating until a re-sup day."

"Re-sup? Re-supply you mean?"

"Right. Workload is lighter if you're not on duty."

Scott looked around once more. "Well, it needs some help, but with a little foxy love I'll have it up to par in no time."

"I'm sure you will," Mane said, leaving the room.

Hunter watched him go, and turned to Scott. "Chow is coming up soon. If you haven't met everyone already, then you'll meet them then as well as get a chance to be formally introduced." He started out. "Take a few minutes to settle in and then join us."

Scott saluted comically, "Aye, sir!"

Hunter grimaced, "Err, nix the `aye' while you're at it. We're not on a cruise." He left.

As the door whisked shut, Scott took in the new silence. He picked up his bag and started putting things into the drawers. Just as he got to the bottom drawer, he found a data book with his name on it.

"This must be the manual Hunter was talking about," Scott murmured to himself, flipping it open. A screen took up the majority of the right side, while the left side had a control panel and a set of speakers. The fox browsed the headers as he sat on the edge of his bed. He folded his ears in amazement; some of the titles had things he'd never even heard of. Scott stopped reading as a folded tab of paper fluttered to the floor. "What the?"

He picked up the tab and began to unfold it. What he saw inside brought a smile to his face: To Scott, Welcome to MainFrame. -- The team

Scott smiled and put the small piece of paper back in the book. He got up to take a look at himself in the mirror. A light came on as he neared and the mirror automatically adjusted itself to give him a head-on look. "This place is something else. With all these amenities, it'd be easy to forget that we're here to fight a war."