Donald Larson was a Tier 2 Mutant in New Sara.
Honestly, unlike many of his fellow Mutants, Donald didn't want to get his superpower. What superpower was that, exactly? Mimic. Donald could mimic the powers of any other Mutant. He could even mimic Apollo. Of course, all the powers would be toned down and he would simply be a Tier 2 fire Mutant.
It was a terrific power with huge potential, but Donald wasn’t a fan of fighting. If it was up to him, he would rather lay down on a soft sofa and read a book or something. That was how his ideal Saturday afternoon would go. No fighting. No blood. No being worshipped by hundreds of survivors. Just a casual life that has become a luxury in this world.
After the apocalypse happened and chaos erupted, Donald eventually found himself surrounded by a band of survivors who were only alive because of his powers. As such, these survivors pretty much forced Donald to become their leader. The Tier 2 Mutant led a settlement across a former shopping mall.
When the Phasewalkers arrived in New Sara, many Mutants fought to retain their authority, and in the process threw their lives away. Donald, on the other hand, was more than happy to let go of this burden. When a squad of cautious Stasis Troopers approached him and carefully, with artillery and gunships on standby, stated their request, Donald was almost screaming in excitement.
Finally! He could finally hand these survivors to someone else! That’s great news!
Donald and the band of survivors were escorted back to the Phasewalker staging ground in New Sara. When Donald said he was a Tier 2 Mutant, even Caity herself came out of her Command Center and visited him. The Phasewalkers had a few Tier 1 Mutants, but a friendly Tier 2 Mutant would be a first.
At that time, Camp York was still standing, an ally as much as a threat. Caity wanted to add more pieces to the Phasewalker side of the board.
But Donald didn't want to be a soldier. In fact, he didn't want to be fighting at the front at all. So, Caity struck a deal with him. Instead of being an actual combatant, in exchange for being allowed to stay in New Sara and enjoy the Phasewalker resources, Donald would serve as a training officer.
His job was to use his power of mimicking and help Phasewalkers Stasis Troopers get more experience against all categories of Mutants.
From that day on, every day, from 7 in the morning, Donald would get to work with Lieutenant Eric and his squads of elite Stasis Troopers. Every day, Donald would take the form of a different type of Mutant. Sometimes, he would have extra strength and resilience. Other times, he would be damn fast and unpredictable. Yet other times, he would have powers to control ice or fire. In fact, many of the Mutants he copied were powerful Mutants in Camp York.
Caity was preparing to counter the Camp York threat if the situation arose.
Every day, the Stasis Troopers would bring real, potentially fatal weapons to the training fields. Of course, no artillery shelling or gunship bombardment, but definitely things like Gauss Rifles, grenades, and grappling hooks. The Stasis Troopers kept on experimenting with more strategies to find the best way to neutralize different categories of Mutants.
With the help of Donald, they made rapid progress.
Donald Larson is a Stasis Trooper Training Officer.
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Abigail Carter was a Camp York Trooper.
Unlike Charlie from Camp Rebirth, Abigail didn't choose to fight because she had family members to protect. In fact, both her parents passed away in a car accident years ago. In retrospect, it was probably for the best. Before everything happened, Abigail was a news reporter.
At first, Abigail was one of the naive survivors who kept on expecting the government to pull it together and deploy its military to put down the Mutations. When all that failed, she joined a band of survivors who fled out of the city into the settlement that has become Camp York.
But as she entered the camp and saw the filth and chaos that has devoured the city, Abigail realized a simple fact. Law was gone. Order was no more. In her career, she has seen enough atrocities to know that when no one was stopping them, human beings were perfectly capable of extreme cruelty.
If she wanted to stay alive in this day and age, she would need to protect herself.
And protect herself she did.
To make herself look more dangerous, the former news reporter cut off the beautiful long hair she has been preserving for years. She signed up for the Camp York military, which, despite being a loosely based faction with as little order and discipline as the camp itself, served as a protective cover. A cover that many of the ordinary survivors didn't have.
Perhaps most importantly, she managed to call in a favor with someone in the camp she happened to have helped before the apocalypse. That person gave her a Gauss Rifle. Not the UEC standard Defender series rifle, but still better than nothing.
Many of the duties as a York Trooper, such as standing guard at the gate or occasionally patrolling the streets, were hard. Nepotism was common in the York military, and if you knew some officers, then you wouldn’t need to spend a day at any guard post. But for those without backgrounds like Abigail, well, someone had to do the work…
But exhaustion was better than many fates that could befall a woman in this era of chaos. Whenever Abigail walked across the streets and saw fellow women, starved to their bones, opening their legs for a piece of biscuit, she affirmed how correct her choice was.
Abigail has heard of Fortress Alpha. In fact, everyone has. But for most of the ordinary survivors, Fortress Alpha was more of a distant utopia. Ideal, yet impossible. Some of the York Troopers debated if it was some conspiracy by Lord Apollo and his fellow Mutants. Others simply didn't care. Abigail was one of them. She was too busy looking out for herself to pay attention to some random foreign faction that didn't have shit to do with her.
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The day all hell went loose and Apollo turned on his fellow Mutants, Abigail was on patrol duty. She only heard bits and pieces of rumors about what happened in the camp. Like many, she was confused when the almighty Apollo suddenly died in a battle against his most trusted second-in-command. As for Caleb’s ascension to the throne, honestly, Abigail couldn’t care less.
It wasn't like Caleb would care for people like her more than Apollo, right?
Abigail was one of the lucky York Troopers. That night, the Phasewalkers stormed Camp York. They were after the Mutants and the commanding officers, but in the process, they didn't hesitate to carve a way through any York Trooper in their way. Patrols. Sentries. Elite guards paid by Caleb and General Johnson.
Abigail was neither on their payroll nor was she unlucky enough to be assigned to guard duty that night. All she knew was she was woken up by the countless explosions and gunshots that woke up everyone else. Like everyone else, she did nothing. After all, she wasn’t a powerful Mutant who could punch through a Leopard APC with a single strike. She wasn’t a general who had armies under her command.
She was just an ordinary York Trooper, trying to make a living in this cold, harsh world.
When it became clear that whatever order Camp York had before was gone, total anarchy ensued. Criminals and thugs who were already active before took this lack of power in the settlement as a sign that they could do whatever they wanted.
Murderers jumped on their defenseless victims, beating them up to unleash the fear that lingered in their own hearts. Rapists grabbed onto defenseless women and girls and dragged them into dark corners. Even more civilians and soldiers alike started looting.
Abigail ran back into her tiny room and blockaded the door. Someone tried to get through, but when she fired three rounds out of the window, the intruders wisely backed away. Why attack an entrenched position protected by armed defenders when you could go to the defenseless house next door?
These were looters and rapists, not hardened assault troops.
The chaos didn't last long. Soon, the Phasewalker tanks and armors started rolling into the streets, Abigail watched out the window as lines and lines of soldiers, holding onto Defender Gauss Rifles and clad in black Guardian IV Armors, marched down the main street. Their sigils, some grey, some green, some brown, and some yellow, were on their arms.
A few criminals and looters, blinded by the blood of the innocent, thought it was a good idea to shoot at the tanks. Their deaths were quick and messy.
More criminals were arrested on sight.
Honestly, that night, Abigail was perhaps scared to the death. This invading army, whoever they were, wasn’t messing around. Their strikes were decisive. Their forces were carefully coordinated and highly experienced. In fact, the sight of these soldiers marching reminded Abigail of professional UEC soldiers. Once, when she was traveling to a UEC fort to interview some UEC Marines, this was what she saw.
Cold. Coordinated. Constantly ready to be attacked and even more ready to retaliate. These soldiers were the opposite of what York Troopers were: messy, chaotic, and fragile.
But this might not be good news for her. In the past, after difficult battles, militaries have been known to reward their troops by allowing them to do whatever they wanted to the conquered. Loot. Rape. Kill. After all, who wouldn’t want to use the lives of the enemies to raise the morale of their own?
If these soldiers did go for that, Abigail would truly be out of options. She couldn’t scare these soldiers off with her puny rifle. She couldn’t even defend herself. Perhaps all she could do was put a bullet in her own head and end this misery.
But these soldiers never broke into her house. Before long, Abigail heard the sound of speakers out on the streets. She looked out of the window and saw a vehicle in the middle of the street. One of these soldiers was speaking into a microphone. His voice was projected so everyone could hear it.
“Residents of Camp York! Please do not be alarmed. We come from Fortress Alpha! We mean you no harm!”
Yeah, tell that to the hundreds of York personnel your people killed to take this camp! But once again, Abigail kept her silence at the notification.
The soldier proceeded to inform everyone about the current situation. Soon, people started coming out. Abigail was among them. No one could hide forever. All she could do was face whatever was going to happen, good or bad.
It took the woman a few days to realize these people from Fortress Alpha were actually a lot nicer than she expected them to be. Up until now, she hasn’t heard of a single case of one of these soldiers robbing or raping a local survivor. The funny thing was that wasn’t even true for York Troopers raised from the local population!
One day, these soldiers set up a stage and dealt with the dozens of criminals the Phasewalkers arrested on the way in. Abigail went to see it, and she had to admit, she wasn’t disappointed. One of the highest-ranking officers, someone called Commissar Carlson, personally sentenced every single one of the criminals to die.
Some of the criminals cursed. Others begged. But none of them were able to stop the Commissar from shooting them dead, one by one, right on the stage.
Was it truly law-abiding for the Phasewalkers? Of course not, but the Phasewalkers were trying to send a message. Whatever rules Apollo had, or didn't have, no longer mattered. Under the Phasewalkers’ reign, crimes would not be tolerated. Disobedience would not be tolerated. Anyone who crossed the line would be met with swift and absolute justice.
Back on Earth, this would face endless scrutiny. Here, this only earned the Phasewalkers the respect of many survivors, including Abigail. After the year of hell, these survivors knew very well that in some cases, force was the only answer.
Punishments and rewards go hand in hand. Almost right after the Phasewalkers took over the camp, their supplies started to arrive. Camp York survivors watched in disbelief as many Rebirth Troopers and Alpha Troopers just started handing out clean food and water that have become insanely precious in this age. Only the sight of an endless stream of supplies and the gun barrels of the troopers stopped a riot from happening. Soon, most survivors found themselves more fed than they have been for a long time.
It barely took the survivors a few days to completely forget about their former leaders and submit themselves to the rule of Fortress Alpha.
Abigail wasn’t surprised at all when the Phasewalkers announced that the York forces would be regrouped. Judging by how they did things, she knew these soldiers wouldn’t be nearly satisfied by how the York Troopers have been acting.
Ryan’s moves were quick. All the York Troopers who wanted to join the York Support Battalions were ordered to report to a certain location. There, Ryan and some of the Security Troopers sent to help him put these York Troopers through a series of tests. Those unqualified were weeded out. Those who got in via nepotism were weeded out. If officers wanted to join, they had to go through the same tests.
Were there complaints? Yes. Were any complaints relevant? Not at all.
Only 2,000 York Troopers showed up to the tests. Half of them were weeded out. The number of qualified soldiers in Camp York was significantly less than that of New Sara, which wasn’t surprising given the difference between the two places. Ryan put the 1,000 qualified recruits into a single unit, the 5th York Support Battalion.
Their sigil was a “Y” with yellow markings in the background.
Abigail was one of the candidates that were given entry. At the end of the day, as the woman looked into the mirror, she was satisfied with the figure she saw. Black Guardian IV armor was on her body. Her short hair fit into her black helmet easily. The face mask was pulled up, revealing a pair of fierce eyes and an expressionless face. Under her armor was the body of a warrior, one that she has spent the last year forging.
Abigail Carter is a York Trooper of the 5th York Support Battalion.