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Saikoubi sat in a cold room alone, she was weak, her eyes almost of no life as she sat in the wheelchair in the corner. Bandages loosely fitted around her arms revealing dark blue and purple patches with cuts across them, and dry blood upon and near the open wounds. She let out a soft sigh as she reached with her right hand to touch the wounds.

On the desk next to her lay empty tiny glass bottles with small prescription numbers. And beside them empty and dead suringe needles that should of been disposed of. One could tell at first glance when they entered her room that she was ill.

However Saikoubi stood, the sheet that was once over her body had fallen, she was wearing a simple combat like body suit with knee length boots and thigh high stockings. She reached over picking up her black coat and throwing it over her shoulders shoving her hands through the armholes.

He heard the figure step in, but although the tent was well lit, he could not see it. It took him a while before he realized why. The invader was a common rat, with sleek grey hair and a mobile nose. He watched the rat for a while as it foraged around his tent. He stood up, went through the backpack beside his cot, took out a chocolate bar to feed the rat. He opened up the wrapper, then tossed the bar outside. "Go on, go away. Get your food." Once the creature was gone, he sighed. He didn't like rats very much. They reminded him too much of himself.

He stretched, cracked his neck, and decided to go back inside the facility. It was a good sixty miles away, though. That was the longest distance he dared to travel. Theiry miles wasn't enough. And if he were caught in open ground, instead of the slagheap-c**-junkyard he was in, there was no way could survive, gate or no gate. For him, it was a risk worth taking, just for the thrill.He put on his shoes, his holsters, and his jacket, and started out the camoflauged door of the tent.

Riyoku nodded her thanks and cleared the room of the last fragments before setting up new targets. This time, she buckled the holster than held her guns. She wouldn't be going for another round. There was a new memo on her desk, and a mission she had to take immediately. She couldn't let anything get in the way of her duty, it meant the future of those who depended on her.

The girl took up her sniping rifle and left without another word. She hurt inside, a deep pain burrowed deep into her soul. However, she had a job... feelings and jobs just aren't supposed to mix.

When she returned she looked at her stop watch... 5:28:77
It was a whole two minutes slower than her last record... she was getting rusty after all. Maybe it would've been better if she had stayed behind and let Ty take the mission... then again, who would've known what would've happened to them? In this place, she takes all the dangers. It was her job.

Job... such a simple, three lettered word... but so many preceptions to it. What did it truly mean? What is a job to her? Riyoku cleaned the rifle and laid it down before sitting down at the old couch and opening her script journal. There were a few more sets to insert on the bypasser codes.

"Hey, never seen you before."

At these words she stopped, turning to look at the older man that had called out to her. Her first reaction was to bow shortly and beg his pardon. "Forgive me, my name is Saikoubi Reitou... " She paused giving him a sort of salute, "KP-X..." She dropped her salute sort of weakly, relaxing her muscles, "I'm the refugee from the Reingeki Base."

Reingeki was one of the few bases left for the humans and Gate Keepers. However under unusual circumstances, defenses failed and the base was overrun the population being wiped out completely, Saikoubi was the only known survivor.

She gave the man a sort of smile realizing he was stairing at her weak appearance. "And you are, may I ask?"

Belg returned her salute with as much respect he had figured she meant. She didn't look all that strong, so he had expected nothing more than she had tried. Once again he waved aside the negative thought and brought himself to the conversatoin at hand.

"I am Belg Rui, tactics and armed specialist of this branch in the NBR." He stopped for a moment, trying to remember where tsis base was. His mind wasn't all there yet. Unable to recall, he just finished his introduction as she had. "Most just call me Tank."

Reingeki... Wow! Those guys were totalled. Belg had took a second look at KP and then felt guilty of thinking such mean things of her before. "I am sorry to hear about your comrades." He bowed out of repsect for the dead. If she had survived that assault, he couldn't blame her for looking the way she did.

Belg's mind was going all over the place today. That fight must've took more out of him then he realised. He once again returned to the conversation, trying to steer the conversation away from dead allies. "So you're a fresh transfer, eh? You get any missions yet?"

Belg had figured as much. No matter how experienced she was, with wounds like those, she wasn't leaving the base until the were healed. He couldn't help but stare at her arm covered in wraps. He quickly looked away, trying not to be rude.

He was slightly happier knowing that KP was a fresh face and the he wasn't looking hs mind thinking she had been there longer. "So, how long has it been since you've fired a gun?" Belg chuckled. "We don't you getting rusty on us." Belg took a step back, waving a hand to the room he had only recently emerged from.

"Wanna give it a shot?? He smirked at his clever little pun.

"Not much more to go now...just another couple miles, and I can get picked up..."

Two miles later, he was standing inside a gray office building, remarkably preserved from the outside. At least, the lights were still intact, as was the rest of the wiring. All but the top floors, which had been cut apart with laseguns. He waited, beside a dark brown desk of oak, underneath which lie a concealed button. He pressed it, and waited for the retrieval unit to arrive. They always came on foot, to avoid detection. They never arrived in groups of more than two or three, and one usually reached the target while the other waited at a predetermined waypoint, close by but not too close by. Always underground or indoors.

On the desk beside him, figures were written on a sheet of paper, complex mathematical equations describing the nature of the universe. The few who could follow him would say that his equations began brilliantly, but declines as wishful thinking takes the place of logic. The passage of time is marked with increasing entropy, increasing chaos.

In his heart of hearts, time must reverse.

He tossed the pencil away, crumpled the sheet of paper into a tight ball, slammed it on the blue-gray carpet. It bounced up, and he felt momentarily elated that it did. Then it fell again, and remained on the floor.

Damn, these guys are slow, he thought.