AN: Hey a new story!

(Prologue)

[Warning: FFG201 Second Ark Stasis Compound suffering loss of power – prioritization code V5/3/S117]

[Contacting Cyster Command…]

…

[Failed]

[Last Contact with Cyster Command: Unknown]

[Date (Disabled: true): Unknown]

[Power Fluctuations Detected: Sector 2/3/4]

[Protocol R-45: Self Repair Required]

[Pod B-23: Green]

[Query: Reactivate?]

[Confirmed: Reactivation Initiated]

/-/

By the time my eyes could finally open, the cold had long since left my body and was replaced with the now warming air. My first action when I found the large plate of glass with the ice slowly receding from the thawing insides. My vision was blurred, and I was unprepared for the sudden coughing and spurting of bile out into the air. Jerking forwards, my head collided with the a solid surface before me and my hands shot forwards in reaction, smacking roughly against the glass. Cool to the touch.

"Recommendation: Occupant, please refrain from damaging Stasis Pod 23 of Sector B," a machine like voice rang out from the speakers built into the top of the metal pod. I growled at the slightly calming but still inhuman voice.

"Just the shock, BT," I mumbled at the artificial intelligence. Its real designation was a rather long string of numbers and letters, resulting in its dubbing of simply BT. While I couldn't care less, most liked to refer to BT as a him rather than it. "If you could, I'd appreciate you getting out of this thing."

"Thawing incomplete, please use this time to brief on current situation," the speakers sputtered and I groaned again. The metal pod was made of a rather dull shade of light grey with black and red lining running along the edges. The black cushion which held me was nowhere near as soft as I remembered it. Maybe it had hardened from age? Or possibly it was just still frozen on the inside.

"Give me the situation then," I breathed, no longer struggling to see. My hands continued to press against the cool glass while I took in the view of another pod directly across from me. I could not see the occupant through the icing which layered the inside.

"Power fluctuations detected throughout Sectors Two, Three and Four. Failure to contact Cyster Command has forced Protocol R-4556 into action. If you require a refresher on Protocol R-45-"

"I know what that is, BT."

"Understood. Thawing sequence completed. Welcome back R5," BT replied. I scowled at his use of my designation and not my name, but decided not to bother. The loud hiss and the popping sound of the depressurization left me slightly out of breath from the sudden air whip I received. Gasping, I tumbled out onto the cold steel floor while mist fumed out of the pod. "Recommendation: Several hours of rest before returning to active duty are fundamental in regaining full body strength."

"I can barely feel my legs, BT! How long was I out?!" I hissed, pushing myself onto my back so I was in a more comfortable position on the floor. The numbness was just a pulsating blur running through my limbs. Fortunately for me, I was too numb to feel how cold the metal really was on my bare skin.

"Unknown, internal clock has been disabled."

"What?"

"Internal clock has been disabled by direct order of Director Haslet," BT repeated annoyingly. I decided that I could deal with whatever mess Director Haslet made before putting the entire compound into stasis later. For now, I remained still on the floor while I let the blood return to my legs.

Glancing to the side, I admired the long hall lined with long metal pods with a glass lid. Out of all these people, of course I'd be the one to be dragged out of my beauty sleep. I suppose being the best repairman had the pros and cons. The internal lights of the hall were rather dim, likely activated once I was brought back or rather it was due to the possible energy issue that I was supposed to deal with.

"BT, give me a status on the compound."

"Sectors Two, Three, and Four are currently suffering from power fluctuations," he stated, failing to provide info I did not already know.

"Has anyone ever told you how useless you are?"

"Recordings can be retrieved of Sergeant Anderson, Private Lewinsky and Director Haslet stating similar phrases."

"Funny," I muttered before propping myself up with my elbows. My body ached and I was already feeling the hunger pains wrack my body. The stomach growls would start soon once my body fully registered how badly it needed nutrients. "What else besides that?"

"All other sectors are currently running at full capacity. All other four hundred and ninety-nine stasis pod occupants show healthy vital signatures. Storages have not been tampered with. Food stocks are currently able to sustain population for three years. Ammunitions supplies are currently nominal. Medical supplies are out-dated but stocked. No reported breeches from the surface detected," BT finally listed off while I took in the info. So everything had gone perfect until now. Everyone was still in stasis, no one had died heaven forbid, and all I had to do was repair some power circuits or something and I'd be back in my pod, waking up with everyone else together hopefully when the required specifications were detected from the outside world.

For now, I was alone and I had to fix something.

"BT, bullshit on that food supply lasting us for that long," I muttered while pushing myself up from the floor. Wobbling slightly, I began stepping towards the nearby exit which led into a dimly lit white hallway where a large rack of preserved towels was waiting for me. I didn't really realize I was nude until I saw them.

"This unit does not understand," the speaker built into the ceiling stated.

"No one but the Director would eat those damned rations for three years," I replied, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waste. I wobbled over to the doorway where I found a large scanner built into the side. Pressing my rather… wet hand to it, a green light lit up and ran down the screen.

[Identification Confirmed]

The door slid open for me and I pushed myself through into the locker room. It was, just like every else in the entire compound, tiled with bright white plates which gave off a rather sci-fi sort of feeling. The walls were lined with six foot tall lockers which ranged the entire room. There were several benches which were bolted into the ground and I saw a sign which pointed towards the shower room in the back.

"BT, where's my gear?"

"Civilian attire is located in Locker 0233. Your equipment is currently stored within the Armory locker room," BT replied. Walking down the room with my hand running across each number plate, I quickly found my locker and removed the contents from within. A few minutes later with a few struggled groans from my sore body, I was wearing a rather simple pair of jeans and a thin white shirt with a simple logo stitched into the left side. I heard BT's voice ring out through the speakers once more as I left the locker room. "The cafeteria is located on the left hall."

"What's the status up top?" I asked, ignoring his obvious hint that he wanted me to eat something.

"Possible compatibility for human colonization. An exploratory team is scheduled to be pulled from stasis to perform reconnaissance in one year. During one year period, designation BT will continue to monitor environment stability."

"What about people?"

"During last scan, no human life-forms detected."

…

"BT, do you think we're the last?"

"This unit does not understand your query," the speaker above me stated.

"Are we the last humans?"

"Not enough variables to create a conclusion. Four other Stasis Compounds were built to increase probability of human survival. Once an exploratory team can be deployed, further details will be provided," BT answered. Of course, there were four others out across the world. We'd gone so far without a hitch, but who's to say that they didn't have a malfunction and everyone in their compounds froze to death. For now, there wasn't much I could do to get an answer. "Recommendation: Your body is currently in severe need of nutrition."

"Do we have anything else besides those long-term storage rations?"

"Negative."

"Well shit…"

Seven hours later and I was no longer in my civilian clothes but a more military grade outfit. I wasn't military though. Hell no, I wouldn't know my way around a warzone if I were equipped in a C-Unit. For me, I was more a… combative technician. Your C-Unit or your Com Links breaking down? You call me up and I'll get you settled. Normally I ran with an actual squad of soldiers, but I usually just had a small side-arm on my belt. Everything else I carried was usually a set of tools and a belt full of equipment and parts.

Basically, I fix things for people in the middle of very dangerous situations. I'm a repairman.

Because of my usual proximity to actual firefights, I had taken to wearing a Kevlar Vest. After joining up with Cyster, they gave me something else to replace that vest. Something called an Over-Vest I heard but they referred to it as an OV. This OV was of course tougher than a Kevlar Vest. It was lighter, covered more of my body and had quite a bit more pockets for me to hold on to my tools and of course a little compartment to hook a roll of duct tape.

You could repair anything with a bit of duct tape and determination.

"BT, I've scoured the entire damn internal power grid and I haven't seen a single thing out of place," I called, pulling my head out from the insides of a panel before slamming it shut. I slid a wire cutter back into my OV before turning back to the speaker.

I had been running diagnostics and physical examinations for a while now, and so far nothing had really been so far out of place that it could cause a power issue in three sectors. Diagnostics came up clean, and physical examinations only showed a few loose wires and bolts here and there. It wasn't much to really go on.

"Recommendation: External power grid might be compromised. Possible deterioration might have resulted in loss of critical power components or exposure to the elements."

"And you want me to do what exactly?"

"Repair any possible damage to the power grid," BT replied as a matter of fact and I stared incredulously at the speaker as if the AI had a face and could see me.

"You're asking me to head up top. Pretty sure you're asking me to break every protocol instilled by Cyster Command."

"Negative, Protocol R-45 overrides any interfering guidelines. You are within your rights to break surface to attempt repairs and sustain the Stasis Compound through any means necessary." BT countered before I got off the ground. I didn't like that last part of the phrase.

"Okay," I huffed while dusting my leggings off and making sure I had all my tools on my OV. "What are the guidelines for breaking surface, then?"

"Current Protocol B-12 dictates you acquire a fire-arm and an O-Unit due to possible exposure to pathogens. Under normal circumstances, you would also be required to be accompanied by a fire-team and at least one C-Unit. Due to overruling protocols and the situation, you will be required to journey alone," BT informed me and I scowled when I heard pathogen. The White Chlorination Syndrome had been the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. Long before the disease even hit my city, I had already seen videos of the snowing of the people who had broken down into nothing but white powder. I wondered why so many people refused to prepare though.

You could see it a mile away. The end of the human race, reduced to nothing but layers of salt littering the streets or mindless beasts. Just thank god Cyster Corporations saw it coming. When they finally got the funding to start building the bunkers, they were too late. Five bunkers had been made and about half a thousand could be sustained in each. It was nowhere near enough. I'd heard that they were making a super compound but… I suppose there was no way they would have time to really build something of that caliber in the little time they had. I couldn't even begin to imagine those who had been locked out. It wasn't that anyone really cared when the giant metal walls ceiled us down here. Hell, a lot of them laughed.

Most people seemed content living their lives as they always had.

They probably would've started riots when they realized they were doomed. Well who knew how long the human race had lasted after we'd locked ourselves away. Maybe they finally wised up and made other bunkers. Maybe they instead threw themselves at the doors of the Stasis Compound in a fruitless effort to get inside. Most of us were sure that our supply could last us a while, and the stasis pods would allow us to blow through time as the disease died out along with the human race. What had us worried was what would become of us if the rioters got in. Automated defenses could easily deal with a bunch of angry civilians, but if they had managed to break through in the first place than we'd all be exposed to the disease. Speaking of defenses…

I could live with an O-Unit Suit. Actually, I rather liked that idea of using one.

They were light suits usually meant to be used in space or underwater, but the situation now was fit for its usage. They consisted of an airtight layer of hardened plastic which was then layered with blue tinted titanium pieces of armor. It wasn't much, though. Not nearly as much as a C-unit which reminded me of that massive green thing from one of those superhero movies. The small nature of an O-Unit allowed me to equip an OV. This in turn enabled me to bring all my tools and parts for the job.

When I entered the Armory, I realized that I had never actually been here before.

Hanging in suspension above me were numerous C-units. There was a large rack lining the southern wall which contained numerous large fire-arms. Some of them were much too large for a normal human to carry and required a C-Unit to wield. The wall on the other side had what looked like a conveyer belt with several mechanical arms lining the entire length.

"BT, we have a fabricator in the armory?"

"Affirmative. There is also a fabricator located in the Engineering Room."

"Were we planning on fabricating firearms?"

"If required, Director Haslet thought it important that we be able to sustain our productive capabilities,' BT answered while I explored the room. I hummed to myself before I found several O-Unit suits lying on a metal counter nearby. Once I approached the one of my choice, I heard the locks holding the suit down release.

"Thanks, BT," I stated before I start suiting up.

/-/

The lift suddenly shook slightly as it began to rise while the lights around me flickered to life.

"Recommendation: Please equip your helmet, R5…" BT's voice rank out from the speakers built into the shaft. I can never seem to remember that I'm supposed to ask BT to call me by real name. I suppose R5 will work for now.

Glancing down, I eyed the blue helmet in my gloved hands. It was, if I were to be so childish, a rather bad ass design. Whoever designed these had an idea for intimidating the enemy. There was a small triangle shaped plate of yellow tinted glass that lined the plate. A small antenna extended from the back where the communications systems had been built in.

With a soft sigh, I pulled the helmet over my face and watched as the Heads-up Display flickered to life.

[Energy Levels: 100%]

[Connecting to Operator: Designation BT]

[Connection Established]

[Oxygen Levels: Stable]

[Pressurizing…]

I felt the suit tighten slightly.

[Pressurization Complete]

[Finalizing HUD Start-up]

A small icon that looked distinctly similar to the small side-arm holstered on my left thigh appeared in the top left corner of my visor as well as a number count of current rounds held in the magazine. Next to that number was then a count of extra magazines I had stored in the OV. A small compass appeared at the very top and at the bottom left corner held an empty circle where a map should've been located. Frowning, I tapped my helmet lightly in hopes that maybe it was just a slightly glitch.

"BT, where's my mini-map?"

"Current mapping is unavailable. Connection with Cyster affiliated satellites was lost two years after Stasis Compound was locked down."

"Things must be bad out there," I muttered before running my hand across the grip of the LT14 at my side nervously. "BT, why was the internal clock disabled?"

"Unknown. Director Haslet made no comment for her actions."

"Of course…" I muttered darkly before glancing up at the almost endless space above me. The walls around me were a bright blur and I felt a soft twist in my stomach from the rapid rise in elevation. It was almost like yesterday when I had last seen the surface. Of course we wouldn't be conscious while remaining in stasis. Half of us would have gone mad long ago if we were. It was just… unnerving at the idea of seeing a completely new environment. Could there be other humans out there? Had the other bunkers already sent their occupants up years before us?

"R5, procedures dictate that I read the protocol that must be abided," BT's voice rang through my helmet this time instead of the lift speakers. I forgot that he was connected to my helmet link. "Protocol A-1: Uphold humanities survival…"

The lift shook roughly as it came to a halt. The new room I was brought into was basically pitch black for several seconds and I felt a chill run through my spine.

"…no matter the cost."

There was a loud pop before a line of white split down the blackness. Slowly, the blast doors slid open slowly. You could hear the rust scrape against the metal and the old gears struggle to turn. The room around me was flooded with a blinding light that even I had a hard time adjusting to, even with the tint of my visor. It was almost heavenly. I half expected to see a god step from the scolding light.

"Christ," I muttered, putting a hand up to my eyebrow as a sort of shield for my eyes. "BT, you recording this? I want those exploratory teams to see this when they get their chance out here."

"Affirmative R5. Please state the authorization code to begin operation," BT inquired. I frowned, not remembering anything about an authorization code. The blast doors were already open so I could just walk out…

"Ah!" I stated, remembering quickly. "R5, authorization code Victor-Five Dash Three Dash Sierra-One-One-Seven."

"Confirmed authorization code."

"Then let's get to it," I muttered, walking into the light.

/-/

Cyster Corporations: a private military/research Company headed by Director Haslet. After running her family trade company into debt, Director Kelly Haslet turned to military research in a last ditch attempt to gain a product to sell to the United States of America which was looking for ways to bolster military efficiency. Once the successful O-Unit was developed, Cyster Corporations was able to clear all debt and continue to develop the heavier C-Unit, AR-Unit, and T-Unit suits. Cyster Corporations began accepting mercenary jobs from high paying countries and VIP's. When the White Chlorination Syndrome broke out, Cyster Corporations was one of the few that turned to human preservation instead of trying to halt the WCS. Many years after a Project Stasis went into action, plans for Project Gestalt entered early phase.

O-Unit Suit: Light suits originally designed for use underwater and in space but now repurposed for harsh combat environment. They consist of an airtight layer of hardened plastic layered with blue tinted titanium pieces of armor. The suit was the lifeline of Cyster Corporations which ultimately rocketed the company into prosperity. The O-Unit is capable of modification, the most common being the addition of a shield generator which Cyster Corporations sold on the sidelines for a steep price. The suit was most commonly used by the Americans and on occasion, the Japanese and Germans.

C-Unit: Heavy predecessor of the O-Unit, the C-Unit was meant for heavy weapons and demo jobs that the O-Unit was incapable of. The C-Unit was comparable to a walking tank, no longer being a suit of light armor plates but a heavy exoskeleton of metal and heavy armor. Hydraulics allowed for development of heavy weapons designed specifically for use by C-Unit wearers.

OV: Tactical vest commonly worn over the O-Unit suit. In addition to the bonus light armor, the OV was commonly worn for the efficient arrange of equipment storage without constricting the user. The OV, despite common belief was not actually developed by Cyster Corporations but a small time firearms company attempting to upgrade the current Kevlar Vest.

AN: Obvious reference to Titanfall 2 and much more subtle Halo 4, oh dear! I do appreciates thoughts on what you think.