**Author:** SLDH8MM3R --- ***The following log was uploaded to the EXODUS ARCHIVES on 14/03/43. Written by Diane Martha Kirkby and published by Tauno Jutt.*** **Spearhead. 14th March 2043.** ![[songbird-spearhead.png]] Sweden, the birthplace of the three-point seatbelts, pacemakers, and cashless payments, things that have been instrumental in the improvement of the quality of our lives. One of Sweden's other biggest exports was Alfred Bernhard Nobel, the merchant of death, who created dynamite; his legacy changed the future of warfare, and yet again the escalation of technology can be found in Sweden. Nordvik, the cutting edge multinational corporation in charge of state of the art weapon manufacturing, was founded in 2028 by three men; Måns Nordqvist, Erik Nilsson, and Oscar Bergman who had a vision for the automation of manufacturing cutting edge farming equipment for agricultural companies without the need for human personnel. This business model allowed them to make their production facilities in remote locations that aren’t affected by climate changes or socioeconomic conditions, effectively making them self sufficient businesses. As the EU began to collapse in the 2030s, Nordvik switched its primary focus from agriculture to the military industrial complex as they began to manufacture parts, weapons, vehicles, and equipment for major militaries. Though they still keep to their roots, manufacturing farming equipment for Synseco, by 2034 80% of all production was related to military hardware. Foremost, Nordvik has pushed the idea of neutrality in their marketing and business practices with no favour for either side of the war; however this is a facade drummed up to let Bergman sleep at night. A whistleblower from Nordvik, who’s information has been corroborated by the recent leak at the Odense port server farm, confirmed that Bergman brokered a deal with the US for various contracts to produce service weapons and experimental equipment, alongside this, audio messages of Bergman conversing with the Dark Market have been revealed. Below is a snippet from one of the logs. **\[AUDIO-TEXT TRANSCRIPT FROM SPEARHEAD #1 INTERVIEW]** BROKER: “These facilities will provide everything that our ‘mutual friend’ has requested, yes?” BERGMAN: “Lower floors, workstation and bunks, private printer that won’t show up on the logs… Christ.” BROKER: “Do I detect hesitation in your voice, Oscar? You do remember why you’re being kept on a short leash?” BERGMAN: “Because you’ll bury me?” BROKER: “We won’t, but the Russians will. Daesong can release the recording of your deal with the US to the media and have Ivan knocking at your door before breakfast; even if you escape, your board will vote no-confidence and you’ll be left with nothing. Don’t be confused, this relationship with my employers is symbolic, as long as you will heed our commands then you can continue living lavishly with your profits. Am I making my intentions clear?” BERGMAN: “… Y-yes.” BROKER: “Good. Silver Spear isn’t just some angry visionary escalating his personal grudge against the nations, it’ll be a cornerstone for a new chapter of humanity.” **\[END OF TRANSMISSION]** This information was eventually leaked and the response was predictable from both sides. Russian and US forces have appeared in the Lapland plains to fight over control of the facility. Russia believes that retribution for the company’s dishonest claims must come from sieging the production facilities and turning America’s manufacturing efforts against them whereas the US has sworn to protect Nordvik’s interests and status as a business, calling Russia’s attack ‘a gross and authoritarian breach of Nordvik’s rights as a corporate entity.’ But these forces weren’t the first to touch their boots on the ground, yet again, the Exodus fireteam infiltrated the production facility of the Silver Spear was being assembled in to destroy the weapon and to return Voros to US custody to stand trial to his crimes, at least that’s what we thought was going to happen. ![[songbird-spearhead-2.png]] During the early afternoon, hours before first shots were traded between western and eastern forces, the Exodus infiltrated the Nordvik printing facility and faced no resistance as our squad made our way to the basement where the scientist behind the Silver Spear project was being held. Although we thought we had the upper hand, we were surrounded by Rangers with guns trained on us as a single guard held us at gunpoint with an experimental air-burst launcher. The man who had the drop on us was identified by himself later as Rashid Zain. An extremely intriguing case of a boy who was raised by political parents who fought for workers and Non-patriated rights, paired with a history of military service, has made him quite an idealistic man and a devout believer in Oz’s teachings. His connection to Oz goes deeper as Oz personally gave him a pair of experimental prosthetics for his legs that he lost during a humanitarian operation. His loyalty to Oz is unshakable, and listening to him speak was like hearing Oz speak through him as a medium. Below is my interview with the idealistic soldier in the short time I had with him. Foremost apologies, I wasn’t able to use my normal audio set up so the interview was recorded on a pocket audio recorder. **\[AUDIO-TEXT TRANSCRIPT FROM SPEARHEAD #2 INTERVIEW]** KIRKBY: “Recordings live. You wanted to talk, so spill.” ZAIN: “First, allow me to say, it is an honour to finally meet a representative of the Exodus Archives. The team’s compiling of profiles and stories have become a fuel of hope for the Non-Patriated.” KIRKBY: “I’ll make sure to tell them, aside from inflating egos, what is it that you really want?” ZAIN: “A mutual alliance, I will give you the truth about Silver Spear and our mission. In return, I only request that the Exodus consider their allegiances carefully and allow me to speak to the masses through your site.” KIRKBY: “You’re a funny man Zain. Ambushing us with your Rangers with a barrel trained on us, and now you plead for peace and understanding. You’re deluded.” ZAIN: “It was an unfortunate informality, the only reason you can ask someone to listen nowadays is with a gun in your hand. I had to be sure you would listen to our plea to the people.” KIRKBY: “Your plea? What crucial piece of information do you want to share with the masses?” ZAIN: “Everyone knows that the media is biased to the will of the nations, branding the Non-Patriated as strays, warmongers, mercenaries, and pirates. You have seen yourself how the nations have swept genocides and exploitation of our people underneath the carpet. This is no different than how Oz is referred. The nations will have you believe he is madman on a crusade, but in truth, he is equalising a score that himself and many others have been subjected to by the will of the nations. He has given voices to the disenfranchised and will use Silver Spear to build them a home, free from foreign oppression.” KIRKBY: “By the way you describe him, you make Oz seem more like a humanitarian than a terrorist. However, humanitarians don’t stockpile weapons, soldiers, and equipment; courtesy of the Dark Market, to ‘give voices to the disenfranchised.’” ZAIN: “The Dark Market is a necessary evil. Their internal goals align with our own. As said prior, you cannot get anyone to listen without a gun in your hand.” KIRKBY: “Last question. When you had the drop on us, dead to rights, you mentioned our handler by name. By my recollection, we haven’t made his identity or his connection to us public. How?” ZAIN: “As I said, I’ve had eyes on for days. Mainly through drones but I also had some help from within the Exodus.” KIRKBY: “Spies?” ZAIN: “Collaborators. They know that your team has been fed lies, and that you’re being groomed to be his triggerman. I know what he has on you, if you help us see this through, and I assure you that you will be remembered for the good deeds you’ve done; not by past sins. KIRKBY: “Past sins? Who do you think you are?” ZAIN: “The chance to prove to yourself; who are you?” **\[END OF INTERVIEW]** Though the idea of a Non-patriated nation sounds too good to be true, take caution that it is not. Many visionaries make promises that they don’t keep and turn their followers into subjects, slaves, and soldiers; I’ve seen it happen before. Oz and Zain are idealists, and ideas aren’t set in stone and neither are they truly bulletproof. Zain has offered to show us proof that loyalty to Oz is the only way that we continue to survive, most are on board for hearing him out. I’ll keep my caution and keep updating my records with what I find. Kirkby Out. <br> **Spearhead. “Home is a Person.”** **Lappland plains, 13th March 2043.** The printing facility protruded from the misty marsh like a grey monolith to the future of automated warfare, an oxymoron from its simple design compared to the complex greenery that encircled the area; unnatural columns that stretched across the valley. The overcast clouds that enveloped the skies betrayed no aerial reconnaissance or attempts for one of the many drones to leave their ports to dispense death for the sake of the war economy. A place where weapons and vehicles of mass destruction were made that wasn’t bombarded by the sounds of missiles whistling overhead or gunfire rattling across rivers, but instead it was quiet with the song of the Bluethroat Thrush. Looking through the scope was a fruitless task, the sniper opted to close the cap on his scope before resting his arms on the padded stock of the DXR-1. Casper and Songbird had been sent scouting ahead of the fireteam to confirm any hostile presence at the facility, spending days prone where they watched, recorded and relayed everything that happened around the facility. Despite short words and long silences, she grew to appreciate Casper’s presence and his mental fortitude. Even through the cold and the mud, he remained steadfast. Songbird turned her nose down to the red notebook that rested on a rock that detailed the patterns of the lone two occupants of the facility. She knew that somewhere in the fog, Zoros was lighting another cigarette for his eleven o’clock smoke break, it must’ve been so stressful making weapons of mass destruction. A hand slipped into the rucksack placed in between the two, Casper’s stomach rumbled as he took out a closed can of cold soup and attempted to open it. Songbird quietly yet swiftly put her hand over the opener and advised Casper as she peered forward, “We’re downwind. The robot’s olfactory sensors might pick it up.” The can went away slowly and was replaced by a small travel bag of figs. Casper placed a couple in his mouth before offering the bag to Songbird, who likewise took a couple in her hand and chewed on them. Minutes went by with the pair observing the wall of fog for any sign of their targets to no avail. Casper was the first to gulp down the remains of the figs, finishing his snack with a question. “I was speaking to Tauno about your connection to the Reed Report, especially after covering up the data farm break-in. You two know each other in a past life?” Diane turned her attention from the fog to Wikus before nodding in confirmation about her prior work. “Yep, we met while I was still in the military and once the marines collapsed, I joined on as an assistant and photographer. That’s when I published my piece on the Perth coast case.” Her station in Australia during the 2030s under the Royal Marines and later under the Black Flag militia was widely known from her first and most prominent piece of work, the Garden Island Report. Casper knew not to ask about Garden Island, a traumatic experience such as that is better left buried, instead he inquired about her prior military experience. “Where else were you deployed?” Diane licked her teeth as she thought about the question, cleaning the fig from her gums, “I was in the Philippines with the four-two, peacekeeping joint operation with NACTAG and United States Marines. We were sent to hunt down an insurgent named Gerald Sulit and dismantle his militia, and got a tattoo from when I took the killshot.” Songbird gloated as she showed her inner forearm to the sniper, a snake caught in the crosshairs with the words ‘For Cateel’ surrounding the graphic. Casper hummed in approval before sharing his own prior experience. ”Served in the Congo. Sniper support in a peacekeeping operation. Always the watchman and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” A smile cracked under his gunmetal green balaclava, reminiscing on the quiet beauty of nature. Songbird rubbed her eye as she yawned, she couldn’t sleep, the anticipation of the attack kept her from catching any sleep. “Still got a place to return after all this?” Songbird questioned as she watched Casper freeze at it. He could only let out a disgruntled exhale as he responded. “No. For my own and my family’s sake, we were all buried in Cape Town.” Songbird understood, from what remained of the drowned valley she called home, whatever was buried under the mash should stay buried. “I understand, I lost my parents too. Flash floods came while they were asleep.” Both chewed on the inside of their cheeks, quietly reflected on how the fates of their families shared shocking similarities. The fog began to disappear down the valley, pale clouds rolling away and leaving a vista of green fields and protruding production facilities that revealed themselves as the fog receded. Casper went back to their scope, however Songbird’s attention was on a picture they retrieved from the breast pocket of her camouflage jacket. Casper scanned the horizon for any mismatched detail; any break in the natural formation could give up a counter-sniper’s position, but there were no breaks, they were still alone. Curious, Casper peered at the photo in her hand. It was Sundance, something taken at the party while they were underway. Even Casper could tell that Songbird was hurting, though he wasn’t the best with words, he tried to comfort his spotter. “Missing your home?” He interjected, catching her off guard with his question Diane’s nose scrunched up as she turned to him with a perplexed expression. He was starting to sound like a broken record. “I told you Wikus, I don’t have a home left.” Casper tutted as he rested his palms on the padded stock, lowering his mask for Diane to see his face. “You have a home, you and Emma, both of you do. Santiago has a home with his wife and children, Irish had a home with his ex wives but found a new one with Omar, and Falck is finding her home in David. When our homes have been taken from us, physical homes, then home is a person; someone you care for and in turn, they will allow you to confide in them.” Wikus’ words were beautiful, they held merit and truth. Songbird nodded as she sniffed up her tears and carved a smile. It had been years since she let her walls down, Wikus was deserving of her thoughts. “We’re each other’s home. We just won’t admit that because we’ve both lost so much and been alone for so long, anything that could give us a chance at rebuilding seems like a trap.” Wikus understood, he knew deeply that the isolation such tragedy causes is a tough chain to break. He could only offer her an ultimatum. “This war is at its eleventh hour, once Oz is gone and Silver Spear is no more, promise me that you’ll stop lying to yourself and Emma. You owe yourself peace of mind.” Songbird’s tears disappeared into a smile as her face morphed back to business even as her croaky voice thanked him, “Thank you Wikus, if you weren’t such a good sniper, your calling should’ve been a councillor.” The pair chuckled and spoke amongst themselves until the sun disappeared over the horizon. The base camp that the Exodus fireteam had erected from the nearby lake would show up as another No-pat travelling commune, something a UAV flyover would ignore. Diane had heeded Wikus’ words and asked Sundance to meet at the bank of the river, her heart exploding in her chest over and over again. It wasn’t until the waning of the golden hour that Sundance appeared, wrapped in a teal coloured falsa blanket crocheted by Santiago’s wife Isabel and holding two flasks of fresh coffee. Diane outstretched their hand to cup the warm flask before leading them to the bank of the lake, sitting side by side on the lake. With the backdrop of the setting sun over the valley, Diane’s chilled exhale caught Sundance’s attention and the pair locked eyes as Diane began to speak. ”Emma, can we talk about what this is?” Diane rarely used Emma’s name unless it was serious, proffering to use their code name or a variant as a nickname for them. The orange glow of the dusk illuminating on their cheek, Emma swivelled their legs to face Diane and gave a confused yet secretly worried nod for her to continue. ”Of this? You mean what might happen with us?” Emma tried to understand what Diane meant, their mind raced as the thought of Diane burning bridges before the big day though Emma wasn’t surprised; they would’ve done the same. It wasn’t until Diane’s hand rested on theirs that the thought eased from their mind. ”I was talking to Casper, about how we lost things before we could ever appreciate them truly. I know you felt that way about your family, your home. But I don’t want to keep losing out on things because of it, I don’t care that it might be a jinx to say it because if I don’t tell you about it; I’m only going to die regretting not telling you.” Diane squeezed on Emma’s hand as a show of vulnerability, to which they likewise confided in the weakness they didn’t share with others. She continued her confession with a weighted sigh. “The teasing, our chemistry, hell! You let me move into your cabin so I had more space in my office! That’s Sapphics one-o’-one! There’s too much here for it to just mean nothing! Please Emma, tell me it isn’t.” The pair moved closer as Emma began to see where the conversation was going. ”Diane. You know I’m not the type for sentimentality, Killing comes second nature but love? I'm not sure that I can do that, I want to, but I’m not sure if I’m worth the trouble. Are you positive that you want this? Baggage and all?” Emma tried to dissuade Diane as they felt unworthy of love, of familial love, of platonic love, of love in general. Their response was met with a hand on their cheek and Diane’s focus only on them. ”Only if you can handle mine.” Diane presented it as a joke, but in reality, Diane’s love life had similar pitfalls to Emma’s experience. Two broken vases learning to put each other back together, they both liked the sound of that. “I… do love you, Emma.” ”I love you more, Dina.” The weight crushing their chest immediately lightened as the pair met in a warm embrace, holding onto each other with a swirl of fear, glee, and pure adrenaline. They both had smiles from cheek to cheek, no matter how long they had together, it was all worth it. Together they waited for the sun to disappear and be replaced by the star-filled sky, under the shared protection of the falsa blanket. This should’ve been the end of the night, but she had another score to settle. After escorting Sundance back to their tent, she took a portable PAC radio transmitter from the tents, claiming it was for a lone perimeter guard. As the camp gathered around the tents and fires, Diane wandered into the hills to find a secluded area; Wolff was expecting her. She placed the PAC radio on the rocks and began to search for his frequency based on a note that had been left on her desk; 244 MHz. Diane sighed as she cupped the ears of her headset and announced herself, “Kraken to Barghest. Come in Barghest.” The line clicked and a secure connection was established on the other end, the agent’s venomous voice spoke through the static. “Hearing you clear, Kraken. Are you ready?” Diane hesitated before she spoke, she hated hesitation, it was for the weak willed and led to worse outcomes. She knew what she had to do but every fibre of her being knew that it would seal her fate. “I do this, and you’ll clear my record?” It was a deal with the Devil, but it was better than living her life with her own ghosts of the past. “I’ll do more than clear your name, trust me, Lieutenant. All you have to do is neutralise Voros and Zain, then destroy all traces of Silver Spear. Keep your comms on when you do it, I need proof.” Wolff knew it went against Renoit’s desired outcome for the operation, he didn’t care for the right results, this was a vendetta he wanted to bury as well. No better triggerman than someone else who had everything to lose from this operation. Their reputations hung in the balance, they would both sink or swim for this.