<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Chapter I: Strike! Assault On Devil's Island</strong></span></div><div align="center">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/Wanzer1.jpg)</div><br/><em>Supercarrier, USN Hawthorne<br/>International waters, exact location unknown<br/>August 11th, 2092</em><br/><br/><em>You were recruited in one way or another for this mission. Perhaps your CO approached you. Perhaps they found you at home. Perhaps a vehicle pulled up next to you as you walked down the street. Either way, you were given an opportunity to serve; not just your country, but the world as a whole. Honor, money, fame. Whatever you were offered, it was enough for you to accept the mission, despite being told little. As you headed to the airport all you knew was that it was 'a matter of some urgency' and that the danger was 'something that could effect the entire world'. Who are you to resist such intrigue? At the airport you were taken aboard a massive transport plane - big enough to hold a number of wanzers. Though you didn't see the bay where they were kept, you were assured that your wanzer had been procured and was already on board. Apparently whomever recruited you was sure you'd accept and had prepared in advance. On the transport plane you rode with a few others apparently on the same mission, but the engine noise and constant chatter of the flight crew prevented any real conversation.<br/><br/>The flight was short, though a bit rough with turbulence at the end as the plane flew into a storm. You were ejected into that very storm shortly after landing on the Hawthorne. The crew pushed you and your new comrades out into the pouring rain. Guided along, you ran across the deck, feet splashing in puddles the entire way. The crew led you inside and blessedly out of the driving rain. Past a few heavy metal doors, you waited inside a large conference room. It was empty for the moment, save for you and your new companions. You were told to wait, that a briefing would begin shortly. The room was filled with rows of folding chairs. Up front, there was a small table set up with a projector on it, pointed at the screen on the wall. For the moment, it was turned off and blank. Nothing else at all graced the sparse room. Guards blocked the doors leading out, restricting you from leaving until the briefing was over. It seemed that for the moment, you would have to wait for things to begin. A million questions buzzed in your head. What was this crisis? Why the secrecy? Did your new teammates know? </em>