Maria was almost happy to be back at the Supreme United Nations Taskforce headquarters. The S.U.N. governing body was situated where the original U.N. had been ages ago, but the Taskforce was given an expansive tower in Dubai to occupy. One that had been aggressively retrofitted and gone over by the tech team, making it one of the most secure towers in the entire world. It’d been a scant few hours, her support crew fucking off to their various holes until they were needed once more. Luckily, the helicopter was more than capable of flying itself, so she rode shotgun on the way back. She was met by the tech boys, engineers swarming over the helicopter and ensuring everything was as it should be.

Secondary Supreme Commander Itsuki was waiting for her at the landing pad entrance. He was a tall man, Japanese, fair complexion, and short black hair. He was also the second in command of all field agents like herself. She could feel his scrutiny over the state of her uniform.

“Agent Arnaz, welcome back,” he said. “I trust your mission went well?”

“All limbs attached.” She never liked talking with him. He held a judgmental air to him. Itsuki seemed to always know everything, no matter how unlikely that was.

He also had no idea what her true mission even was. Officially she was visiting a combat zone in North Africa, a hot spot that broke out due to local resistance to their presence in the area. As far as he needed to know, that was what she had done.

“I require your assistance.”

“Fuck off, I just got back!” Maria could feel the wind’s ferocity build.

“Even still, you are required.” Itsuki knocked on the door behind him.

Emerging from the other side was a woman Maria did not know. Mid shoulder length blonde hair, green eyes, clear pale skin, she was maybe in her mid-twenties at most. Unlike the two of them, she was not clad in a S.U.N. uniform. Instead, she wore a smart black suit. She saluted Maria.

“Agent Arnaz, Christine Ritter at your service,” she said.

Her accent was heavy, Eastern European. Maria scowled at her superior.

“Sticking me with the new meat? You’re cruel, Domon.”

“Only for a short time,” Itsuki said. “I need you to escort Ms. Ritter to Terra Sung. Once there you may part ways. I believe Supreme Commander McFree needed you.”

“You son of a bitch.”

Itsuki cracked a rare grin. “We all have our duty, Maria.”

Terra Sung was a big name in the Supreme United Nations. She was the head of their research and development centers. She was the mastermind behind all alien tech reappropriation and finding suitable uses for them. Most every nifty gadget and special bit of kit that came from the S.U.N. itself could be directly attributed to her. She held no official rank to Maria’s knowledge, but existed in her own bubble of influence.

She was also a nasty piece of work, severely misanthropic and needlessly antagonistic. Itsuki had a metal rod shoved so far up his ass that you could see it in the back of his throat, but she was something else entirely. The two never, ever got along. Maria sighed when she realized how lost Christine looked.

“Right,” Maria gave her superior a salute.

He nodded back to her before leaving.

“Didn’t think getting a uniform would be that difficult,” Christine said.

Maria glanced at her. “You haven’t worn a uniform like these. So, who were you in the world?”

“East German military police,” Christine was quick to say. She sounded nervous.

It was curious. Most recruits had that beaten out of them by the time they made it up here.

“East German,” Maria repeated. “How’s the wall doing these days?”

Christine glowered. “Cracked and crumbling. They keep threatening us with the nightmare of reconciliation.”

“Nightmare for whom?”

The East German laughed. “Both, I would think.”

The Soviet Union was not the superpower it once presented itself as. The 1950s alien encounters ensured that wouldn’t last. It was still limping along. Arguably it was less desperate than the United States, which was talking about bolstering itself with two new states soon. Maria didn’t believe it’d happen, but she couldn’t say she cared much anymore. Her time working for them was long over.

Her allegiance would die with one person.

“What is your designation?”

The younger woman groaned. “Oh God, that. What are those about? They feel so forced.”

“You know how the intel and branding people like their theatrics. You can’t tell me the op names behind the Iron Curtain were any less embarrassing,” she said.

“They need to get a life. Operative Wolf, at your service ma’am,” Christine still seemed off.

Maria knew something was up, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. “Operative Phantom. We’re pretty lucky, once I knew an Agent given the designation Precocious Demon…”

The trip was relatively peaceful. The elevator was some special model, something she didn’t understand involving magnets, devised by Terra Sung. Made them both five times faster and twenty times more stable than normal elevators. Terra Sung’s workshop rested far beneath the tower that housed the Supreme United Nations’ Taskforce. One of many. Even as fast as the new elevator system was, it was still a trip. Maria’s mind began to wander before the silence was broken by her companion.

“What kind of missions should I expect?”

She frowned. “You said Military Police, so you’d probably be assigned to peace keeping efforts. Likely somewhere in South America or mainland China.”

“We have operations in mainland China?”

Maria grinned, but it felt bitter. “Where humanity calls, we go.”

Christine stared wide-eyed at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t think our jurisdiction extended there. I haven’t heard of any xeno-activities in that region.”

“No, you haven’t,” Maria agreed. “You probably also don’t know about the lizard people beneath Australia.”

“Come on, that’s bullshit,” Christine said. “I might be green but I’m not stupid.”

“Lizard people are a real thing. They’re primordial cave dwellers.”

“Stop it. I’m not going to fall for this.”

“I think intel named them Reptoids. We ran into them in the ‘70s. Them and the South American Arachnoids.”

Christine laughed. Maria grinned. She couldn’t wait to see the recruit’s face when she found out she was telling the truth. That was always the best part.

“You got family?”

The blonde blinked. “We allowed to talk personal?”

Maria shrugged. “Domon wouldn’t like it, but I don’t see why not. We’re all soldiers here.”

A melancholy expression crossed her face. “No, not anymore.” Christine’s hand curled into a fist, nails biting into her palm. “Not for five years.”

Maria breathed out slow. “You lived in Eisenhüttenstadt. So, you know about them.”

“I’m not sure I could ever forget. I was a teenager; I barely saw anything. But the damage, it was so much worse than the swarm in ’84. The horror…” The German sighed. Her eyes twisted with anger, sharpening at the memory. “No one talked about it. Blame was passed around, attributed to whatever was convenient. Something it couldn’t have been. Something it wasn’t.”

“You’ll learn why,” Maria said.

“Were you there?”

“Only the aftermath. None of the Agents deployed during the crisis survived.” None. All dead. Maria suspected Christine knew more about what happened that day. The German was smart enough not to say a thing if she made it this far.

“What about you, Agent Arnaz?”

“I probably still have a father somewhere. Siblings,” she shrugged.

“And your son?”

Maria glared at her companion. Christine’s face went red.

“Oh. Sorry. Agent Itsuki, he mentioned,” she stammered. “I was just, with you being a field Agent like this, how do you have a family?”

“You don’t.”

The elevator buzzed as it touched down on the final floor. The doors hissed open. Maria steeled herself, staring ahead.

“There’s a conspiracy about lizard people running the world,” Maria said. “I think it makes people feel better to think that. To believe that there is some measure of control in how the world works. But we know better. No one runs this world. We’re on our own. No one knows a damn thing.”

Christine muttered something in German, but it sounded like an agreement from what Maria knew.

A long, stark white corridor waited at the bottom, leading to the seemingly simple entryway. Maria kept one foot ahead of Christine.

“Terra Sung is temperamental, so be on guard. She prefers to be referred to by full name, no honorifics, or titles. Prefers being a euphemism for she will ruin your week if you don’t do this.”

Christine paled. “You’re making her sound like a monster.”

“She may be.”

The doors opened when they were five feet away, sliding into the walls adjacent to them. They immediately closed as the two passed through. There was no noise, no hissing, no evidence of movement. Christine looked back, surprised but Maria kept her eyes forward.

The room was a massive, multi-tiered fever dream of mechanical operations. Half completed armor pieces scattered across pearled workshop counters, tools of every kind lining the walls and littering the ground and heavy machinery looming in the background, some in active use. A partially built helicopter was resting in a far upper corner, great mechanical arms holding it aloft while smaller claws stripped wires from within.

More, it was loud. Hidden behind those strange doors was a cacophony of machinist noise. Every major piece of gear had its own unique sound, every blinking light along the stark white walls hummed with power. They hit the two all at once, Christine flinching. Maria hated being down here. It was sickening.

At the center of the room, wearing a long flowing white dress, was the master of the mechanical maze. Terra Sung stood next to a mechanical exo-skeleton. It always reminded Maria of a space age Iron Maiden. Six streams of silver fabric hung from her shoulders, three each, flowing along her back. At the hem of her dress a silver pattern wove itself back up through the front and sides of her dress leading up to streams. Her short blonde hair was kept at a close cut, the same Maria knew for a decade now. She wore no makeup, nor seemed to need it.

She could be considered handsome in a fashion, but something about her was disquieting. What age she was, any sign of human experience, seemed to allude her. Her skin was unusually pale, her features completely indiscernible. The only indication of racial heritage was her name. Striking purple eyes glanced back at them with some level of contempt.

“You are late, Operative Wolf.”

Her voice sounded like ice cracking. Maria knew she had a husky voice, years of drinking and smoking would do that. Christine had an airy voice, broken up by the harsh accent of her country. Terra Sung was different. Sharp, cold, without emotion or color. She held no accent, no texture.

Christine snapped to attention. “Agent Christine Ritter, Operative designation Wolf, at your service ma’am!” Her voice was raised, trying to get above the noise.

“Cease,” Terra Sung’s voice, on the other hand, did not need to raise. Despite being as quiet as a hiss it was still just as heavy as any of the machines she commanded. “Step into the TITAN harness.”

The scientist made no effort to explain what she meant, leaving Christine to look at Maria for help. Maria nodded towards the device next to Terra Sung and could see the complexion drain from her face at the realization. Christine grimaced before doing so, walking up to the contraption. She visibly flinched when it suddenly opened, many thousands of parts whirring and moving. The height of the machine shifted, shrinking to a few inches taller than the new Agent.

“Turn around and step back.”

Christine, ever the soldier, did as she was instructed. The moment her back came within a hair’s breadth of the machine it came to life. Faster than she could react, the TITAN harness sprung around the German, enveloping her. Maria cringed, remembering what it was like the first time she stepped into it. Then the second. Then the fifth.

If Christine screamed or not in the end couldn’t be heard as the mask snapped down over her face. The harness pulsed, rippling across the metal frame that now entrapped her. Maria forgot to ask if she was wearing anything personal or important before coming into the room. Hopefully Itsuki remembered to.

Then almost as suddenly as it started, the harness hissed and released its captive. Christine stumbled forward, body shaking. Her black suit was gone. Whatever happened to your clothing Maria never did find out. She didn’t reckon anyone but the inventor knew. Destroyed by some method? You would never see them again regardless. Anything you wore into the device was lost forever, replaced with what Christine now wore.

From head-to-toe Christine was clad in sleek, segmented, sterling silver armor. A helmet completely enclosed her head, flowing into the neck piece which itself bled into the rest of the suit. A mirrored visor, slightly rounded at the edges, hid her eyes. Armored gloves matched similar boots, both the same chrome finish as the rest. At the center of her chest was a golden badge with a silver star set against a black satin interior. The inverse of Maria’s own.

The S.U.N. Taskforce Titan armor. The active combat state of the very uniform Maria wore now. Christine stared at her hands seemingly stunned. Maria knew why. Right now, an overwhelming amount of information being pumped at her through the helmet’s interface. Whatever the German was saying would be muted. Like clockwork the woman began grabbing at her head. The Titan armor added another couple of inches to her height, making her a hair taller than the seasoned Agent.

Something was strange to Maria, though. Christine’s armor was silver and chrome, with no other markings and colors. Her own armor, matching her uniform, was grey and silver with white stripes along the arms, lacking the polished finish. Was this a new type of suit?

“Operative Phantom, that will be all.” Terra Sung did not bother looking at her. That was her dismissal. “Operative Wolf cease your agitation. Follow instructions.”

All considered this was the best outcome for her. Maria saluted before walking off. She still needed to meet Supreme Commander McFree, after all.