**Author:** SLDH8MM3R --- ***The following log was uploaded to the EXODUS ARCHIVES on 20/03/42. Written by Diane Martha Kirkby/Emma Rosier and published by Tauno Jutt.*** *Editorial Note: We are shocked and saddened by the news that Diane ‘Songbird’ Martha Kirkby was KIA after a raid on the Nordvik printing facility in an unidentified explosion. Other members of the Exodus crew were also confirmed to have died in the bombing. As this was the last draft saved on her computer, I decided to update the log with one final article in memory of our departed friend. Rest easy, Songbird.* ***Battle of Nordvik. 20th March 2043.*** After our recent post about the situation in Lappland, a large offence raged across the region which resulted in many deaths of Russians, Americans, No-pats backed by both sides and the destruction of two Nordvik facilities due to the relentless fighting that raged on during the last couple weeks. In this report, I’ll quickly get you up to speed on factions that have shaped the outcome of this conflict and what happened during those three weeks. Let’s start at the factions with the aggressors of the conflict, the Black Storm Regiment. **Black Storm Regiment.** ![[black-storm.png]] A Russian-allied PMC that is commonly seen wearing pitch black combat gear and boasting armoured vehicle capabilities due to their mutual alliance with Russia. The command and soldiers hold a hardline and steadfast tactic against retreating or losing ground, hence their motto “the only retreat is death” is testimony to how much they’re willing to give to complete their mission. Most soldiers found in this unit are from Balkan or Eastern European regions but few of western origin have made themselves amongst the elite in the group. Their reputation to strike before detection has been praised by the Russian military and by the Kremlin itself. Most of them are qualified infiltrators and assassins in their own right. “Strike with thunder. Rain chaos. Bleed them dry.” \- Commander Vitaliy Urbanofsky (Black Storm) **Nordvik Control Corps** ![[Images/Apollo/nordvik-control-corps.png]] The Nordvik Control Corps (NCC) are a recent addition to the Nordvik militarised expansion into private security, asset protection and helping pull trade negotiations to their favour. Though smaller than the Black Storm Regiment, their strength comes from a stockpile of state of the art weaponry and systems to give them the technological advantage over any foe. Their soldiers are contractors with corporate contracts that pay out a hefty salary in return for hiring only the best of the best, although their hiring practices are skewed towards those who come from backgrounds loyal to Nordvik or America. Their mission foremost is to keep the cogs of the war machine oiled and operational. “We are your offensive strike. We are your proportionate response.” \- Oscar Bergman, Chairman of Nordvik. With our two factions introduced, allow me to remind you of the reasoning behind the assault. Thanks to a whistleblower who made an anonymous appearance on The Reed Report to report that Nordvik had been coerced into accepting more contracts from the US thanks to a nasty bug in the system planted by US intelligence. Furious over the preferential treatment, Russia declared that Nordvik was an enemy and made plans to overthrow control of the facilities and prevent American forces from manufacturing arms, equipment, and key components for logistics or other purposes. Below is a summary of the three main stages of this operation ranging from the invasion of Nordvik, the retribution of Nordvik, and finally, the battle of Nordvik. **Week One - The Invasion of Nordvik.** The attack began early in the morning, limited Control Corps presence allowed the Black Storm to enter the sector with an undetected armoured column of T-28 tanks. The Control Corps were pushed back into the marshland with equipment being seized by the Russian navy that supported the attack, taking various units of the experimental EMKV90-TOR and experimental models of a man-portable railgun under the project name Rorsch MK-4. The Black Storm had taken Nordvik’s advantage away from them. **Week Two - The Retribution of Nordvik.** As US forces prepared to mount a counter offensive against the Russian Navy and their PMC forces, the Control Corps delivered retribution by sabotaging the Russian data servers so that they couldn’t brute force the bug and take control from themselves. By the end of the attack, the Russian servers and external communications had been severed substantially and Nordvik still had control over the servers. **Week Three - The Battle of Nordvik.** With American troops arriving to back up a rejuvenated Control Corps, the Western forces stormed the Eastern coalition as they were rebuilding their frontlines and broke through the frontlines within a matter of hours. With similar offensives taking place further up and down the river, the Russian Navy called for retreat of all forces within the area. The Black Storm disobeyed and were unable to counter attack or inflict any major damage against the West. A majority of the Black Storm unit perished, still loyal to their motto. As of now, rebuilding begins with Nordvik embracing their new partnership with America and focusing all production on US backed projects and manufacturing. This critical blow to Russian logistics has already been felt with allies of the nation turning to the Dark Market to bolster their support with weapons from the past. The Russian attack to seize Nordvik assets had failed catastrophically and crushed morale in the East. As for Nordvik, a recent reshuffling of the board confirms that Oscar Bergman had been ousted by his Co-founders and investors, taking an nominal sum in exchange for selling his shares to the United States. His whereabouts are unknown but insider reports indicate that he’s just taking a back seat with plans to return later. This battle was a show of defiance, retribution, and strength of both sides throwing punches with the latest developments in military technology ever seen in the battlefield, some of the equipment that has been seen in media coverage should be a taste of the future of warfare and an escalation of the conflict engulfing the world. I’ll be covering this evolving war as it continues to roar across the world, that’s a promise. See you soon! Diane Kirkby, signing off. <div style="text-align:center;">Rest in Peace Diane “Songbird” Kirkby</div> <div style="text-align:center;">October 21st 2010 - March 14th 2043.</div> <br> **Lappland Plains. “Sermon on the Mount.”** **Printing Facility, 14th March 2043.** They lost comms as Exodus went underground, but Wolff wasn’t concerned. He was still listening. Songbird’s microphone recorded everything, with Wolff’s voice in her comms, she was his ears and fists. The cold underbelly of the production facility was covered in sterile white walkways which overlooked a horde of printers and machines whirring from prolonged use, whatever was down there would be the next weapon of mass destruction. The fireteam, consisting of Crawford, Lis, Casper, Dozer, Rao, Mackay, and herself, moved in silence. Everyone had felt the impact of the attack on the Exodus, watched as Falck and the medical staff were stamped with injured bodies with little supplies and how Irish was affected by the attempted killing of his son and the death of an old comrade. Oz had gone too far, even those sympathetic to the warlord’s rhetoric knew this. The Gol Magnum hung from Songbird’s back as her G57 trained on the lower walkways and the doors, expecting Voros or Zain to attempt an attack from below to slow them down, a rookie attack. At the end of the walkway stood the labs where they knew the mad scientist occupied, at last, the final stretch. As Dozer and Rao stepped towards the door panel, Songbird would spot blue lights in the shroud of darkness; originally thinking them to just be normal wall lights. When those lights began to move and stepped out to reveal a ranger with their guns trained on the team, two more cornered the team and cut off all exits apart from the labs. Just then, as Lis looked up to the ceiling and raised her weapon alongside it, she saw a young Arabian man standing above them in the ventilation system armed with an experimental launcher pointed at the floor between them all. He had them dead to rights, but why didn’t he finish the job. The young man spoke as his finger rested in limbo between the trigger and on the side of the weapon. “It would be tactically unwise to shoot me, Lis. With this launcher, kindly by our host, from this height would take one shot. Listen to me: I’m not the enemy.” His voice attempted to calm the nerves of the fireteam but Lis didn’t care for his words, she was close to delivering retribution for her old squad. With the AK-24 aimed directly at the idealist's torso, Lis could only see red. “Pierdolę! He’s buying time. He can’t kill us all.” Zain and the Ranger’s reacted to the hostility, Zain stepped back as the Ranger’s prepared to gun down the team. It was only heightened by Crawford’s gesturing as he too aimed at Zain. ”Agreed. I say put two in him and move on.” He chuckled dryly as he peered at the boy through the scope of his AM40. The drones dug their mechanical paws into the floor as the standoff began to agitate everyone involved, if they were surrounded, then this finale would be a blaze of glory. Zain kept his gun forward as he gestured to the Ranger that had an autocannon protruding from its back and its barrel on Dozer, “If I wanted you dead, Kalila would have done so before you broke the perimeter. I’ve had eyes-on for days.” Songbird chewed her lip as she kept her pistol aimed at the Rangers ocular sensors, she suspected something was watching them while up in the hills but couldn’t put her finger on it. She wondered how much the young soldier knew. Crawford would turn his head to Mackay and give the Canadian a wry smile. ”All right, we put two in him and two in his robo-pup.” Crawford hoped to get a smile out of Mackay but he was only met by the face of dread as Mackay aimed the NVK-S22 towards Dimnah, the Ranger with the 7.62mm machine gun on its back. He hoped that when bullets started to fly, the flechette rounds were enough to decommission the robot-doggie. Dozer sensed that the team was reaching a breaking point, if it continued they’d all be dead for sure, instead, he rested his hand on Crawford’s shoulder and observed Zain through his goggles. ”Step back, Crawford. He has the drop on us. But he’s not pulling the trigger.” Dozer comed over in his mind why? To be taken as hostages and to be used as bargaining chips? Fat chance. He was stalling, for Voros? Or for someone else? Casper knew that somewhere in the building, Voros was putting together the weapon. The Silver Spear was almost ready to devastate the globe, they had no time to spare. “Domkop! My drones don’t lie. Voros is building something behind those doors.” The sound of shuffling and crashing behind the door alerted the fireteam to Voros’ whereabouts. Rao had seen enough, his display altered him to the Russian offensive that was approaching fast. They were limited on time. Rao shouted amongst the stand-off to warn everyone on the short timeframe they had left, showing his display to Zain so he understood the urgency as well. “Enough! Everyone stand down…” Both the Exodus fireteam and Zain’s bodyguards lowered their weapons in unison to listen to Rao, “Okay. Here’s the deal: there’s an Eastern offensive ten kicks east. Nobody walks away if we’re still here when they attack. Speak now or let’s get this over with.” Zain peered down at Rao, thankful that he allowed him to speak and mildly admiring his concern for everyone involved. In return for the gesture, the Rangers became passive and Zain lowered his launcher whilst he spoke. “Oz is not building a weapon. You have all been deceived. Wolff… he cannot be trusted.” Nobody had discussed the handler, even when they were staking out the facility, so Zain name-dropping Wolff was huge. The words of the soldier shocked the fireteam yet intrigued them too. As Mackay began to speak up, Songbird reached for her recording device discreetly to tune Wolff out of the conversation. “Wait a minute. How the fuck do you know Wolff?-“ Diane turned off the device and switched frequencies so he couldn’t question her motives. In response, Zain dropped down amongst the group with a metallic thud. The soldier’s prosthetic legs were visible underneath his rolled up combat pants, nothing like it on the market. He placed his hand on Rao’s shoulder as he continued to entice the squad with the opposite perspective. ”Before you decide the course you wish to take, let me show you what you’re fighting for.” Zain gestured for them to follow, Mackay standing by his side as the door began to open. Inside was a messy office, converted to a living space with two bunks and a pile of depleted rations forming a mountain within and around the bin. Gripping the case of a black metalic processor, Gedeon Voros stood petrified as the Exodus fireteam entered with Zain. Zain outstretched his hand and coerced Voros into handing over the processor. No bigger than a laptop; Oz’s Silver Spear. Zain, Voros, Silver Spear. All three targets lined up like ducks in a row, three bullets minimum from liberation, from running from the past. Yet, the pistol never raised and fired. Diane couldn’t do it, whether she blamed the Rangers parked behind her or the fear of the other specialists turning on her, she was curious and anxious; she wanted to see where Zain was going. As Zain held up the Silver Spear Processor as if it was the New Testament, he rallied the fireteam around him who listened in anticipation. ”This is your weapon of mass destruction? The next nuke? No. This is our lightbulb, our penicillin, our mark for future generations to live in ease. You want to know what it is? Follow me. Let me show you Oz’s true purpose and Wolff’s deception.” The Exodus murmured amongst each other wondering what the use of this processor was, moreover, they wanted to see how Wolff had the means to betray them. Zain picked up a rucksack and a tablet, herding the Exodus above ground. Like sheep to a shepherd. **Lapland Plains. 14th March 2043.** The Exodus fireteam gathered together on the hill facing the printing facility, completing Zain’s task of activating transmitters with Oz’s location tied to them. As the team made the ascent up the hill, Songbird turned to Lis and quietly whistled for their attention before presenting an EMP grenade from her bag; giving an ultimatum if Zain couldn’t deliver the promises he made. “If he’s stalling for time, I have a little treat that’ll leave him weak in the knees.” A devilish smile crossed her cheeks before vanishing like the grenade, which returned to the bottom of her satchel. As the team reached the summit of the hill, Crawford bent down to catch his breath after the wild goose chase to complete the task. He wasn’t getting paid for it so why did he bother trying? Penance? There’s no such thing to a Crawford. His hand slapped against the rock face as he wheezed for air, directing his concerns to Zain. “Right! We’ve done your scavenger hunt. Where’s your undisputed truth?” Zain offered his arm to hoist Crawford onto the rocks, leaving him to sit by his feet. He then took out the tablet he had grabbed from the lab and started to link the transmitters to a location, an office in the upstairs of the printing facility. Once the transmitters were good to go, he addressed the congregation of No-pats. “Watch. When activated, a GPS code tied to his personal codes will falsify his location tag. Wolff will think that you’ve found Oz and bomb what he believes is your location. You’ll see that, to him, you’re nothing more than collateral damage.” With that, he sent out Oz’s fake GPS location to Wolff. Not even moments later, air raid sirens began to blare throughout the valley and harmonise with the other likely threatened facilities. The doors locked and the delivery drones were buried in their housing. Then Wolff, through the shared fireteam radio frequency, said his malicious goodbyes to the Exodus. “No hard feelings, Exodus. As it stands, No-pats fall under ‘acceptable losses’ if we toe-tag Oz in the process. Know that your sacrifice has saved the free world. You can take that to your graves.” The rocket’s red glare pierced through the clouds, a cruise missile b-lining across the sky towards the facility. It dug deep into the side of the building with the crash of the upper floors, before a sudden and total explosion, levelling the facility in one blow. The fireteam could only stand mortified, seething from the betrayal of Wolff. They didn’t know if the Exodus and the other civilians were safe or caught up in the CIA tying up all their loose ends. It filled them all with invigorating rage, none more so than Songbird. Zain bowed his head for dramatic effect before leaping down from his mighty crag to level with the bereaved crew. “Zero hesitation, This is who Wolff is. He used you, but you’re not the first. We need to keep moving, but we can’t return to your ship. Not while Wolff thinks you’re dead. We go by land. Caju can give us safe passage to the port.” **Brani Island. Singapore. 9th April 2043.** A geoengineering machine. All of this, being smuggled in cramped shipping containers with what little air circulated around it; for a fucking farming satellite. Food was an important commerce when most of the world lived hand to mouth, but nothing worth dying over. She wanted to wait, watch if Wolff at least put out an obituary clearing her of past wrongdoing. Nothing. She broke silence the second she was left alone with her radio, she wanted to use it to call Emma and tell them that they’re okay. It was all she could think about during the trip, her scouting notebook was full of sketches of them so they could be there in spirit. Unfortunately, the past took priority. The frequency hummed for a few seconds before Diane would announce her revival on the frequency for Wolff to hear. “Kraken to Barghest, come in Barghest. You bastard.” Wolff’s office was the only quiet place in the bureau, ironic, since he was the one who should be in the most panic. His team that investigated the printing facility found no bodies, he knew that phantoms were out to haunt him. When he heard her voice, it was only confirming his carelessness. He flipped the switch on his privacy screen before responding to the radio. “Barghest to Kraken. Nice to see you’re above ground.” ‘Oh what horse-shit’ she wanted to scream into the headphone’s mic, she restrained herself from the intrusive thought. She still needed his cooperation to clear her name. “No thanks to your lack of trying. But that’s besides the point, the offer is still on the table. I can get you more than just a scientist and a boyscout.” She knew that the only way to play ball with Wolff was to get him the real target he was looking for. ”Oz… Shit, didn’t think you could impress me any more. Tell you what, give me Oz and I’ll give you your old rank back; help run the Foreign Activities Liaison Team with me. What do you say lieutenant?” Noah thought that Diane would just be a disposable asset which could be manipulated via her past sins; he underestimated how hungry she was for her goals, it was like a wolf. He needed wolves. “When I’m in-country, I’ll turn on my geo-tag so you know where Oz’s exact locations are. This time, no missiles.” The last part would’ve came off like a joke if the venom in her voice wasn’t present. She’d betray her own kind to be rid of the nightmares and paranoia. ”I’ll see you then, and oh, keep rolling the important parts. Makes paperwork less of a bitch.” He tacked onto the end of the conversation before the line clicked closed. A smile crossed his face as he took another sip from his Indiana university Hoosiers mug. He had reliable ears on what he thought was the remaining Exodus crew. Wolff wasn’t concerned. He was always listening.