by Christi Smit
Two fists, knuckles touching, wrapped in unbreakable chains, the words Forever Loyal written beneath it. Christian stared at it for a long time; it brought back deep emotions, emotions he had worked his entire life to bury, he bit them back once again, leaving the words to echo in his mind while the memories were kept at bay.
He took a deep breath and sat down on what looked like the most uncomfortable bed in the galaxy, it creaked and squealed like little piglets being chased around his quarters, placing his helmet on the bed next to him, its weight releasing another creak from the bed.
In the corner a metal chair and a tiny, fold-out desk sat immobile, waiting to be used, looking more like they were used too much. The chair would not be able to hold the weight of anything more than a child, the table being nothing but a piece of flat metal riveted to the wall on rusty hinges.
Home sweet home, he thought. It was nothing compared to his lavish lifestyle on his home world. For some strange reason he liked this place more than his previous residence, somehow feeling like he belonged where he was now.
A blinking light he had not noticed at first caught his attention as he looked around the room, daydreaming about what was to come. Above the head of his squeaking bed a personal receiver and screen stared back at him, bolted to the bare metal wall by hasty hands, its right side hanging lower than the left side, something that instantly irked him.
Christian pressed the blinking light, the button beneath it clicking, activating the message that had been waiting for the quarter’s new owner.
He was relieved to hear the voice, knowing that his sudden departure from New Horizon would have caused the voice’s owner great concern. It made him smile to hear it now, how strange it was to be leaving without saying goodbye, it almost made him feel hollow somehow. A feeling that vanished quickly the more the voice spoke.
Her voice always had that effect on him.
“I...wish I could have said goodbye in person, Christian.” She sounded so sad. “Why did they just take you like that? Why did they not let you say goodbye?”
Silly girl, he thought, they did not know about us.
“It hurts Christian, I wish I could hear your voice, or just know that you will be safe. It breaks me to not be able to talk to you. It kills me not knowing if I will ever see you again.” She started crying, as strong as she was she still tried to hide it, but ultimately failed.
He wished he could hold her, just to keep her from harm forever. Love changes a person, some say it does not, but it does without a doubt change the hardest bastard into a soft, blubbering fool. He realized with a sudden shock that he had never told her that he loved her, he hoped she knew it.
“Please find a way to contact me, if you can. I will be waiting for you, until the end. I asked Sam to hide something in your suit. I want you to have it, may it bring you back to me in one piece. Sam said he would hide it in a special piece of equipment for me. Look for it there. I have to keep this short. Command won’t allow you to receive encrypted messages like this again. Goodbye Christian, be safe.”
The message stopped, he was already checking the many compartments located throughout his suit, panicking slightly as each one contained what they were intended for, and he could not see anything out of the ordinary within these compartments. Then it hit him, the shield, Sam had said it was a special one.
Christian unclipped it from his back and started looking at it intently, noticing nothing at first, after a few moments of closer inspection he saw a hidden button on the side of the shield’s grip. The button looked like the rest of the grip, but with enough pressure it released a latch, opening up a small panel on the side of the shield’s mechanism. He tilted the shield, letting whatever was inside slide out into the palm of his other hand.
It was the silver locket and chain she wore around her neck, he never saw her without it, the fact that she had removed it and given it to him would have been very difficult for her.
He unclipped the chain and put it around his neck, forcing it down beneath the edges of his under suit, it would be more than just safe there. It pressed against his body, and it would constantly remind him of her. She was such a clever creature.
He closed the panel on his shield, locking the shield to his back again. Christian stood, picking up his helmet and locking it into place over his head. He was going to be late if he lingered any longer. His reply to her message would have to wait. Not too long, but long enough for him to think about what he was going to say to her.
Christian pressed the door lock, the door sliding open to reveal the dark corridor outside of his quarters leading to the armoury, he promised himself to reply to her message before they left for the mission.
He hoped he would keep that promise.
They were waiting for him in the armoury, everyone except Pyoter, fully geared up and ready. Ready for what Christian had no idea, but he hoped it would be further training. He was still irritated about his time in the Labyrinth being cut short. His chance to prove himself would have to wait for another time.
Rivers beckoned him over to where the weapon racks were hastily mounted to the armoury wall. The racks were mostly empty, only a few weapons still attached to the racks by locking clamps.
Christian’s eyes scanned the paltry selection, thankful for the pristine weapons they had issued him in Beta Facility.
Rivers lifted a crate from the floor and banged it down on the armoury’s metal table. “Grab some attachments for that Kicker of yours. It isn’t much good in standard configuration. It’s only good for creating leaks in small targets.” He opened the crate, revealing dozens of different attachments for Christian’s rifle.
Christian did not recognize half of the attachments, picking up a few to look at them with surprised curiosity. “How many do I need?” he asked Rivers.
“As many as you can carry. When the crap hits the fan it’s better to have a few options. This one,” Rivers paused to pick up a tube-like attachment, but it had a smaller bore than any attachments in the training manual, “launches titanium spikes, very handy when you need to slow down a fast-moving beastie.”
Christian had no idea what to make of them, randomly picking up a few, guessing at what their function was. “What about this one?” he asked, hefting up a bigger attachment with a flat barrel and a fat gas tank below it.
“Ah yes, that one, I was looking for that. It’s not ready yet, might just kill you. If that happens I will have to explain to everyone why you were firing untested and unsanctioned hardware.”
“Unsanctioned?”
“Yes, you think these are all military design. No mate, these are my designs, all of them are my babies.”
“Babies?”
“Well yes, wouldn’t you love them like your own if you created them and nurtured them like I do? Feed them beastie targets regularly, clean them and give them a nice place to sleep.” Rivers held on to the attachment Christian had held only a few moments earlier, he held on to it like a father cradling his son for the first time.
“He probably loves his gadgets more than his own children.” Xander had approached from behind, fiddling with his plethora of explosives again. He was chuckling to himself as he looked through a crate with even more explosive devices.
“You haven’t met my children. I definitely love my babies more than my own offspring.”
That made Christian laugh as well, the squad’s light-heartedness was unsettling at first, but the more he was in contact with them the better it made him feel.
“One week,” Nathan said from the corner of the armoury, he was there the entire time, stripping his own weapons, cleaning the parts with a dirty cloth. “We have one week to train him, we should get to it.”
Everyone wore their helmets. It was impossible to see their expressions behind their mirror visors, the tone of their voices the only hints Christian had to what the mood of the squad was. Nathan’s tone was flat and lacked any emotion. They were so accustomed to being inside their suits; it seemed
that they never took them off. Christian had to agree with that idea, keeping the suit on forever would not be a bad thing, it felt like part of him already. But it was probably not very good for his body to be strained for too long. He wanted to ask how long each of them had been in their suits, but he was cut off by Captain Locke entering the armoury.
Locke’s helmet was on as well. His voice however had enough authority behind it that you did not need to see his face to follow his orders or know what his expression was.
“Corporal,” he nodded at Christian. “I see the artist didn’t have to paint little pink flowers for you everywhere. Good, we might be able to get you ready in time then.”
“No sir. What am I in time for sir?” Christian asked Locke.
“Your first mission, in one week you will see what it’s like to be a real Titan. Where you will either pass or fail your trials.”
“I thought the Labyrinth and everything before that were the trials?”
“They were, but because your final trial was cut short we have to sharpen your skills during active operations.”
“About the Labyrinth,” Christian started to ask but was cut off by Locke’s raised hand.
“Nothing about it Corporal, the final trial is nothing but a survival exercise, a sadistic one but one nonetheless.”
“What do you mean sir?”
“There is no real end to the Labyrinth. It was designed to disorient you while you were attacked from all sides. The room my squad found you in was it, there was nothing beyond it. The shifting pillars and enemies were all there to make your survival difficult, had you stayed longer, bigger and nastier enemies would be introduced every hour, making survival even more difficult.”
“But, what about the timer and the briefing said there were only a few hostiles in the Labyrinth.”
“All a facade Corporal, when the timer reached zero you would have been notified to exit, if you were still alive that is. The last few hours in there would have been very dangerous.” Locke walked over to the weapon racks, unclipping a Kicker with many custom additions to it, a giant Nova launcher attached underneath its non-standard long barrel. “I myself survived only because I killed the big hostiles first, once I ran out of ammo the smaller ones were easier to deal with.”
“Where would I have received more ammo? I never saw any of the caches.”
“There were no caches, it is all a trick, the creator’s mechanism might have been genius, but the true nature of it was evil. It was meant to trick you in every way possible, lie to you, give you false hope, and then try to kill you. That room, with all of the moving platforms, there are many other traps throughout it. False floors, spike traps, flame traps, crushing traps and even traps that would release more hostiles.”
“What about the first two I killed, are there bigger ones than those in the Labyrinth?”
“Ah yes, those two, we had never seen that before, they had somehow broken out of the Labyrinth, the area you killed them in was nothing but an abandoned medical wing. It was abandoned when the creator of that facility acquired it to build his diabolical machine.” Locke started loading his Kicker with bullets from a nearby ammunition case. “So you see, when the timer reaches zero you would have succeeded, or failed if you never saw the timer reach zero.”
“It was a lie, to try and kill me?”
“Yes, and if it didn’t then you would be a Titan. Now the situation has changed, and other things will try and kill you during the rest of your training.” Locke finished loading his Kicker, clipping it to his back as he walked to the door leading to another part of the Hyperion’s armoury. “First. Combat training against real opponents, meaning...us.” He jabbed his armoured thumb into his chest, disappearing through the door.
The rest of the squad took that as a cue of some kind, all of them followed Locke, brandishing their weapons as they walked past Christian.
Not good, Christian thought, not good at all.
“Where’s Pyoter?” Christian asked the squad as they walked down a corridor towards another room in the bowels of the Hyperion. He was obviously missing from the squad, his size making it difficult for him to ever be a hide and seek champion.
“Warming up, we will get to him later.” Xander replied over his shoulder, walking a few paces in front of Christian.
They reached the new room, Locke entering first, Christian last. Christian could not believe his eyes at first, switching to his tactical sight with a word. It was not a room, looking more like a gladiatorial pit from old Earth than any training arena he had heard of.
Bare-metal obstacles littered the centre of the pit, built at random angles and random heights. Some were hip height, others as tall as two Titans, their construction creating many different firing angles and cover positions. The pit was as large as a civilian freighter’s docking bay, with thirty foot tall solid metal walls surrounding it. Viewing galleries looked down at the entire pit and all of its obstacles.
Christian could make out a few figures looking on from the galleries above them, most of them probably there to see the Titans in action, others just for the sport of it.
He could not see their faces, nor hear their cheering. It made him feel like a gladiator, a gladiator about to face the lions. Christian silently wished for lions instead of his current opponents. Lions, or creatures of the same ferocity, he could beat, the steel-clad wolves he was about to face were a different kind of animal. Lost in his own thoughts he almost missed Locke’s first few words.
“The first exercise is very simple. Mark all of us before we take you down.” Locke said, pulling back the slide of his rifle.
“Mark you?” Christian asked.
“Yes, by any means necessary, by bullet or blade.”
“You want me to shoot you?”
“Well, you might want to, seeing as we will be shooting at you.”
“To try and kill me?”
“Of course, the hostiles you will face out there in the galaxy,” Locke pointed to a random side of the pit, pointing at some invisible foe beyond the hull of the ship, “will definitely not ask you out for dinner. Everything out there, even some humans, wants you dead. And you learn better by doing, in this case, being hunted by the best.”
“What if I kill one of you?”
That brought on roaring laughter from the other three Wolves standing close by.
Rivers was the one to answer his question. “Then you deserve to be here kid.”
“Now go, Quinn.” Locke did not move. He just watched Christian, waiting for him to comply with his order.
Chapter Two.One
Hunted
“If I ever had to fight one of them, I would piss myself before curling up into the fetal position.”
-Private McBride, Arkelis, Survivor
Christian turned, showing his back to the squad, leaping over the nearest obstacle. He sprinted away from his hunters, unclipping his rifle from his back. In the short walk to the pit from the armoury he had attached an unknown addition to the underside of his rifle. It looked like an electromagnet, covered in spools of wire, there was a half-moon trigger at the base of the attachment, and above it a bar of green lights with the word charge below it.
Great, he thought, I brought a taser to a gun fight.
It would have to do, the radio was silent, and like true hunters they stalked him without a sound. He kept running, waiting for the first of his predators to show themselves.
Xander was the first to, appearing out of thin air behind an obstacle ahead of Christian. He was faster than Christian, covering the same distance and having time to set a trap in the same time Christian had fled from his hunters.
He saw the trip wires in time, jumping over them without losing speed. But it was a ruse, Xander’s second, and main trap was sprung the moment Christian leapt over the wires. A motion mine hidden behind the edge of an obstacle to Christian’s left armed and detonated the same exact moment he had passed it. Xander hat calculated the speed of the sprinting Titan
perfectly.
The motion mine was a custom design, it was not meant to kill, it was only meant to scramble his suit OS with static interference. The explosion’s bloom caused Christian to wince, static filling his ears and vision for a split second as the suit OS tried to compensate for the burst of interference. A deafening sound pierced his ears and he lost his balance, staggering away from the mine’s detonation zone, shaking his head to clear his disorientation.
He still held on to his rifle, banging his left hand on the side of his helmet, trying to help the suit OS with rebooting its systems. Christian was aware of that fact that he was basically open to attack, he had to hurry.
When his vision returned he was staring at Xander’s pistol, pointed at him from a few paces away. Xander shrugged, as if to say sorry for what was about to happen, he fired without a word.
Christian side stepped the first shot and charged at Xander, the explosives expert fired again, the second bullet ricocheting from his right shoulder, the third and fourth hitting him in the upper torso. The impact of the bullets hitting his armour made him stumble, but it could not stop his forward momentum.
In a clang of metal meeting metal the two Titans collided, Christian’s left shoulder hitting Xander in the middle of his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall. In the Labyrinth the flesh of the enemies gave way under impact, the Titan on the other hand, took the blow and did not crumble under the weight of it.
Both of them went to ground in a tangle of limbs and weapons. Christian had made sure that he missed the explosives decorating the other Titan’s armour. If he had missed his intended target, they would probably have been in pieces all over the area.
They struggled against one another’s strength, wrestling like drunken boxers, each trying to get the upper hand. Xander was smaller than Christian, but he had vast depths of strength to draw from, strength hidden from what the eyes could see. He was smaller than the other Titans, but his stocky ancestry made him powerful to grapple with.
