Chapter One
Bad Day

Marcus Reynolds was not having a good day. He was a young solider; fresh faced and eager to prove himself to his superiors. He was ready to defend his home and the denizens within it with everything he had in him. He just needed the chance to prove himself.

It had only been six months since he had enlisted. He had done it on the day he turned eighteen, and he knew for a fact that he had one of the best commendations out of everyone he had trained beside. He also knew that, logically, one did not simply bypass the chain of command and get a promotion so soon but that didn't stop him from being disappointed at where he was at.

Sentry duty in the power sector was not exactly the venturing outside of the gates and into the heart of danger type of occupation that he had been anticipating for years. It was a definite step up from his usual patrolling routes in the orchards and botanical fields—at least there were a distinct lack of giant centipedes—but it was still not where he wanted to be.

Today Mark had been in a right state. He was both angry and agitated that his request to be transferred to an outpost bunker in the jungle had been denied… for the third time. Admittedly he had acted perhaps a bit more immaturely at the disappointing news than he would like to admit, tearing the rejection letter to shreds and kicking over a dead potted plant on his front porch before he had stomped off to report for his patrol.

Mark had resigned himself to a long, boring shift of trudging back and forth throughout the towing windmills above. His only consolation was that at least he was not stuck behind a desk. To top off his bad day, a new pilgrimage would be arriving at some point today.

At least with this shift out in the power grid, he would be far away from the bustling crowds of noisy families so in awe of the city. He despised new pilgrimages. By noon the entire base would be absolutely crawling with new citizens, shoving their noses where they don't belong and stopping anyone on the street to answer inane questions.

Mark would defend Terra Nova with his life. It was his home and above that he had a duty as a member of the security force to defend it, but really, what was so great about it?

There was nothing exciting or interesting within the compound. The only real entertainment was the gym, the shooting range or the bar. He made use of the gym often enough, and he was an okay shot but the shooting range was not exactly his idea of fun. And Boylan's bar was a placed he despised to even look at let alone enter, despite everyone his age absolutely raved about it.

Teenagers here were too wild for his tastes, and he would like to think he was above the petty games he knew that certain individuals partook in. Sneaking outside the perimeter fence, though he longed to be rid of the constricting walls himself, was an incredibly stupid idea and reckless because of the carnivorous creatures that roamed the wide open lands.

Even some of the herbivores would attack if someone unwittingly snuck up on them, and if the dinosaurs didn't finish the idiot stupid enough to leave the facility, they still had to face Lieutenant Alicia Washington for their offence. And she was not a forgiving woman.

Mark almost wished he could slip back through the time fracture himself. Not that is was even a possibility because the portal only went one way, but if he could venture to the world he had left behind when he was so young, maybe he could see why everyone was always so impressed with the change of atmosphere when they arrive.

Perhaps he would not mind the newcomers so much if they all tried to show a little more respect. He hated it when they pretended they were better than he was just because they had some fancy collage degree in biology or a medical license whereas he only had a few certificates for his own accomplishments, such as completing his training and his weapons certification.

They were not better than him because a piece of paper told him so. He loathed being looked down upon for what he had chosen to do with his life. He was proud of his accomplishments. He had been chosen out of dozens of applicants, and even though his job was not exactly glamorous, he had still been handpicked. No one had the right to try and make him feel inferior for it.

If anything, the people of the city relied upon him and the others like him to keep them all safe. When a dinosaur made an unexpected appearance to lurk in front of the gate, while everyone scattered away whimpering in fear, he would stand his ground. He was ready to lay his own life down if need be; it was the same when those traitors would show up unannounced and cause a ruckus.

Mark had been contemplating all of this when he had first noticed something amiss in his sector. He paused briefly, not expecting anything to actually happen on his shift, though he extracted his weapon a moment later. He had passed through here an hour ago on his patrol, and when he had swept the area that solar panel had not been out of place, hanging low with the screws sitting on the ground.

Cautiously Mark approached, investigating it with his eyes. It was the side of a panel that had been removed, allowing a clear view of the interior. His mouth set in a grim line when he realized that it had been coupled with foreign wires that trailed around the side of the tower, connecting into several power cells that were being charged.

Someone was syphoning power off of the Terra Nova's power grid, and there was only one group of people he knew would need to do it. He tightened his grip on the sonic weapon, listening alertly for any trace of movement. He had no idea who exactly had broken in, or how they had managed to slip around the city's defenses, but they could not have gotten far, not if they were waiting to retrieve the cells.

Before Mark had the chance to reach for his radio to report the incident, he sensed movement behind him; he instinctively dove to the side. His body impacted hard with the cement ground rolling way, his ears ringing s the shot that would have ended him cut through the air and hit the side of the tower. His own gun was thrown from his hand due to the momentum of his roll, and he finally landed on his knees in a couched position.

Live rounds, the bastard was using live rounds.

A grunt escaped him as he surged back onto his feet, not willing to leave himself in a vulnerable position for long. He glanced to the side, his own weapon much too far away for him to reach, and he finally caught sight of his attacker. He recognized the man, his earlier suspicions confirmed.

It was Carter, one of the traitors who had come through on the Sixth Pilgrimage. He and every other Sixer had fled the colony once it became apparent that they had an agenda of their own regarding Terra Nova. He was obviously here to resupply their power, and apparently he was willing to kill to get it.

Mark had no time to think as the other holstered his weapon, though Mark was not deluding himself into thinking that it constituted as surrender. Carter had a limited supply of ammunition, and while he could simply pick up Mark's own weapon, the man was clearly aware that should he use a sonic weapon at such close range he would be struck with the energy discharge himself.

Instead of retrieving the weapon on the ground, Carter kicked it to the side and slowly pulled out a long knife that looked as if it had been carved out of the razor tail of a slasher. Mark watched the other man warily, bracing himself for the impending attack.

Carter moved swiftly and without warning. He slashed the sharp blade with quick precision at Mark once, then twice, missing him both times as the younger man dodged by utilizing his better agility. Carter was all brute force, throwing his weight into every swing, and while dangerous, it made him slow.

If there was one thing Mark had excelled at in his training regimen, it had been close quarter combat. He was quick on his feet, and while he might have been physically smaller than his opponent, he used it to his advantage. He dodged each strike, letting Carter wear himself out little by little as he observed and calculated; then he struck.

As Carter lunged once more, arm darting forward aimed at his heart, Mark acted without even thinking; he grasped the forearm of his attacker before the man even got close enough to cause any damage. Rotating his own hand while simultaneously increasing pressure, the knife dropped to the ground as the other man yelped in pain.

Twisting unmercifully, Mark maneuvered his body around until the man was facing away from him in order to appease some of the pain. Mark himself was steadily applying more and more pressure, his free hand jabbing forward in a vicious punch to the back of the knee so that Carter fell forward.

Mark dug his own knee into the small of his opponent's back as he forced him into the ground. Not wasting a second, Mark touched the communicator at his shoulder, quickly requesting backup. He could not afford to waste time because he knew the odds could change at any given moment. Even though he had Carter incapacitated for now, there was still a chance he could be overpowered.

The moment the call ended, a shuffle beside him had Mark stiffening. He inwardly cursed his luck because apparently Carter was not alone in his endeavor, the cold metal digging into the side of his temple taunting him with that knowledge.

It was times like this that he hated being right.

"Let him go," a woman said from beside him. He eyed the weapon out of the corner of his eye in a silent war with himself on whether it would be worth it to try and disarm her before she could pull the trigger. It was another standard gun with live rounds; not a sonic weapon. She could shoot him point black. "Stand down, kid," she said. "Or you will die."

Furious within himself and with the entire situation, Mark eased his grip, slowly releasing his hold. He was glaring, he knew he was, but how could he have been so negligent? He should have realized that Carter had not come alone and paid better attention to his surroundings.

Mark took a deep breath and interlaced his fingers together behind his head in surrender, rising up slowly and removing his weight rom the other man.

Carter clambered to his feet angrily, wringing out his arm and groaning with lingering pain from the maneuver Mark had used on him. Try as he might, Mark could not suppress the smugness he felt at felling felled the man, smirking as if to say 'take that, you thieving bastard'.

Of course Carter just had to notice his grin, and retaliated by throwing a hard right fist and then spinning around to deliver a punishing elbow to his kidney that sent him to the ground, gasping and closing his eyes against the pain. That was a cheap shot, and it hurt like hell.

Movement continued on around him for at least a few minutes, and he could not bring himself to move without pain shooting through him.

"I've got the power cells," the woman said, and then added unsympathetically, "You handle him."

Carter released a cold laugh above him a moment later. He could hear the gun chamber a round close to his head, and Mark felt the first real stirrings of fear. He knew with a certainty that Carter was going to pull that trigger; he knew it with every fiber of his being.

Mark was going to die.

That whole rumor about seeing your life flash before your eyes? Yeah, it was total bullshit. He could see nothing beyond the barrel of the gun when he opened his eyes, and he closed them tightly just as quick if only to erase the sight from his vision.

A shot rang out with startling clarity, and it took Mark several seconds to realize that he was still alive and relatively unharmed. Apparently the shot he heard had not been for him.

Mark opened his eyes when he heard the thud beside him, and turning his head, he saw Carter lying on the ground. The crimson blood pouring from the bullet wound in his upper arm was a startling contrast to the gray cement.

"Reynolds," he heard a voice call to him, and Mark blearily blinked up at the familiar face of his superior, Alicia Washington herself. She slapped his face gently a few times in order to get his attention, a concerned frown on her face. "Got here as quick as we could. Are you with me, kiddo?"

"Not," he choked out against the pain, trying to warn her. "Not alone… he's not alone…." The lieutenant nodded to some of her team at his words, and they readied their weapons as they moved to investigate further. He sighed and attempted to sit up, only to grimace as it sent pain rippling through his abdomen. "Damn it," he breathed out.

"No kidding, genius," Alicia said dryly. "Keep still until we can get you to the infirmary. And don't even think about passing out on me, soldier, I expect a full debrief on the way over there."

Mark let his head sink back down.

Sure he had been craving some excitement but…

This day sucks…