ANGEL ELITE SQUAD: The Nova Directive
(SFX: Fading in, heavy breathing, running – Brimstone)
BRIMSTONE: (panting heavily) 7th Elite (pant, pant) Fighting Corps…
ALL: (winded) Ho!
BRIMSTONE: Sound off! YoNorm!
NORMAN: (tired) Yo!
TRUESHIELD: Yo! –wha?
(SFX enormous detonation, loud explosion, debris falling, shattering sounds)
NORMAN: (narrator): There came a great explosion of massive concussion and a blinding light. None of us kept our feet as the ground shook beneath us like a massive tidal wave of earth. Once upon our feet again, however, the squad moved almost as one in the direction of the explosion.
BRIMSTONE: Stand your ground, troops!
WRATH: Cap was in that explosion!
BRIMSTONE: Our orders were to remain here and rendezvous with Cap, and that’s what we’re going to do.
WRATH: There’s no way he survived that unharmed! He needs our help—
BRIMSTONE: Stand down, soldier!
WRATH: Command’s gone to your head, Brim! Do you fancy yourself next in line—
PREACH: Peace, brother--
WRATH: It’d be just like you to leave him behind--
PREACH: Brimstone has orders and the responsibility t’ carry them out. Aye, ye would be wise to heed them as well.
WRATH: We just can’t leave him out there—
TRUESHIELD: Permission to go on recon, sir.
BRIMSTONE: Who? Me?
TRUESHIELD: Cap gave you the bars. You’re acting command.
BRIMSTONE: Uhhhh. I don’t want you out alone, True. Who knows what just happened out there?
NORMAN: Sir. Allow me to accompany True. I’ll stay within eyeball range of our safezone here, and I’ll keep visual on True as she does her reconnaissance.
BRIMSTONE: That sounds good. But be careful the both of you. Cap would have my—Cap WILL have my head if anything happened to either of you.
TRUESHIELD: --Aye that!
NORMAN: --Aye that!
WRATH: Thanks, Brim. Uh, sorry if I got, uh—
BRIMSTONE: It’s forgotten. You know I hate improvising on Cap's orders. I’m just a straight-up kinda guy.
PREACH: Aye. An’ ye know Brother Wrath here would be just as passionate if’n it be ye that was missin’ Brimstone. “Commander” Brimstone.
BRIMSTONE: Aw, knock it off. You know I wished it was me who took that explosion instead of Cap—
NORMAN: (off) We need assistance! NOW!
TRUESHIELD: (off) Prep for Med!
NORMAN: (narrator) We found Cap staggering in the direction of the safezone location not far from ground zero, Retribution in hand. He was physically spent and disoriented; he didn’t know where he was, didn’t know WHO he was, but was insistent that he had to get to the meeting place, though he didn’t exactly know why and could barely walk. He did not recognize any of the squad members of his command, but he retained an overwhelming urge for us all to accompany him to what he referred to as “No-Blast ground”. Although when pressed, he was not entirely sure what he meant by that term.
Miraculously, Centurion had not a scratch on him, incredible though it may sound, as he was undoubtedly within the detonation radius of the gigantic explosion. Despite this, he was in Healing and Rehabilitation for three days before he fully regained his faculties, both mental and physical.
It wasn’t until sometime later, in exercising my latitude as psych evaluator of the unit that I was able to gain access to and review selected passages of his report to his superiors, that I gained the knowledge that Centurion was actually the CAUSE of the explosion. He reported a limited recollection of initiating what was referred to as the “Nova Directive”.
Details as to what actually was or is the “Nova Directive” were either stricken from or deleted from my copy of his report. My assumption is that detailed knowledge is on a “need to know” basis, and it is sufficient to know that Centurion was the cause of a fantastic detonation of unknown origin and unknown power.
This ends Support and Logistics Profile Entry 0217. Subject handle “Centurion”.
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