A light fog rolled through the tree line under an otherwise cloudless night. Millions of stars twinkled incandescently beside the two moons of white and grey light. In a break from the forest a roughly square compound sat fenced off, poorly constructed wooden guard towers stood manned at its corners. Lighting in the base was minimal as the archaic generator was already struggling keeping basic functions operational. Freezing guards leant in each tower kept awake by dreams of fires and warm beds, rifles stood lazily beside them. Again to save power there were no radios, the guards communicated by sonic cabling running between the towers. Occasionally brief snippets of conversation or dirty jokes would spread between them but overall they stood in silence.

In the centre of the garrison stood an old abandoned church with a new concrete bunker hastily attached to the side. The classic earth-that-was gothic architecture juxtaposed with an ugly block of shapeless grey rock. A series of radar dishes and antenna littered the roof of the newer building rotating lazily in the twilight.

Unbeknownst to the entire base a group of shadows skulked through the trees.

A hand was held up in the Mist and three men huddled to a stop beside a lumbering oak. “Stand by here for Rendezvous with Spacers team”

“Up here boss” Came a whisper from above. All three men swung their rifle skyward as they jumped of shock.

“Jesus Spacer! Do you want me to shoot your ass off? Christ you’re like a Wisp of smoke up there. Where’s the rest of your squad?”

Spacer tapped a log against the tree trunk and two more men dropped from neighbouring trees and joined the group. “All present Sir” Snapping off a perfect geometrical salute.

“The Snipers in your team isn’t he?” the group leader asked Spacer, a clear tone of disdain in his voice.

“That would be me sir. Hence the tree.” He replied with a boyish grin.

“Well Mr Wisp. We’re going to head to the edge of the tree line, when we get there we’ll give you the signal. How many guards have yo