by C. Gockel
“You have denied the poor and enhanced the rich. You have made a mockery of justice. You have made profit and expansionism your highest goal. You have slain the innocent and have sought to annihilate the peaceful Entho-la-ah-mines. You have failed humanity.”
Suddenly, the man was next to Wake again, back in the center of the room. Wake could smell him, a mixture of fury and musty cloth. The man's clothing was made of some ancient material, its construction simple and crude.
The hooded man raised his hands high into the air, slowly rotating, taking in the whole room. “And though you oppress many, there are those who will bring you down. Misery to you who are mighty! You will soon be brought to your knees!”
With an effort, Wake stood. His ankle and leg protested bitterly. Having no clue what to do, Wake stared at the intruder. A quick glance at the Lower-Elders confirmed they were doing the same. From what the guard commander had said, the intruder should be dead by now. He was clearly threatening the Lower-Elders and blaspheming the Ashamine.
“Destroy corruption. Cut out the cancer eating at the heart of humanity. If you do not forsake your wicked endeavors, you shall all be consumed. The Breakers are coming!” At this final declaration, the man turned to face Wake, drawing a long alloy rapier from his robes. Glaring directly at him, the figure muttered under his breath, “Boy, cut me down, for if you do not, these men will surely hand a sentence of death.”
Wake drew his translucent synth-diamond sword, but went no further. He didn't understand the situation. Everything was moving too quickly. I need time to think!
When the man lifted his own sword and attacked, Wake automatically defended himself. He deftly deflected the strikes, easily falling into the forms his instructors had drilled into him long ago. Wake’s injured ankle protested bitterly, but he shut the pain out, willing the injured limb to function normally.
After a few exchanges, Wake could see the man was an expert, his movements fluid and effortless. I don’t have a chance, he thought desperately, fending off blow after blow. You can’t give up, he rallied, trying some of his best forms. None succeeded.
Then, there was an obvious opening. His opponent's sword strayed too far, exposing his entire left side. It was as if he really did want Wake to cut him down.
Moving instinctively, Wake made a quick slash, feeling sick about the blood that would be spilled. Not too deep. Only incapacitate him . But no—just as the sword was about to cut into the dark robe, the man vanished.
Assuming a fully defensive posture, Wake glanced around the room, expecting to see him on the ledge somewhere. Gone. Only the horrified Lower-Elders and Wake himself remained in the large chamber.
Realizing the threat was gone, the Elders broke into chaos. Everyone began talking at once, their voices loud and shrill.
“How, in the name of the Founder, did that man get in here?”
“Blightheart! Where are the guards? Why were we left undefended?”
“I could have been killed. We all could have been. I could be lying here in a pool of my own blood!”
The clamor continued on for quite some time. Voices overlapped each other. The room got louder and louder, no one listening to anyone else.
Wake was still poised in his defensive form, sword high in the air, when a throng of guards rushed in. They wielded high-powered flechette guns and were aiming them at Wake. “Drop the sword! Get on the ground! Drop the sword immediately! Get on the ground now! Get on the ground!”
Wake, let his sword fall and followed it to the floor. He had no idea why they were coming after him and not looking for the figure. “Leave him be,” the Presider intoned, the appearance of the security forces restoring the Lower-Elders’ composure.
Instantly, the guards started scanning the room, looking for new threats. They are disciplined and well-trained. Where were they when we needed them?
The Presider, seeming telepathic, voiced Wake's thought. “Where were you?” Wake then noticed he didn't recognize any of the guard squad. It was a different group than those who had escorted him in.
“Distinguished Elders,” the commander said, straightening to attention. “My squad was dispatched to your chambers by Ashamine Command, priority urgent. When we reached the outer vestibule, we found the on-duty squad, unconscious. We rushed in to secure your personages. That is all the information we have.”
“Strange,” the Presider replied, eyes narrowing. “Thank you for your service, commander.” Murmurs and hushed conversations sprung up around the room. Silence descended eventually, and time passed uneasily for Wake.
“This Brotherhood of Azak-so, has anyone heard of it? Or the Breakers he warned of?” Wake recognized the speaker as being one of the men who had derided him at the beginning of the trial.
A new speaker, his voice dripping with disdain, shouted, “Let us finish the matter at hand. We should not be discussing this in front of common ears.”
“I believe additional consideration should be afforded this man,” the Presider declared. “He was our only defense during the crisis.”
“He didn't do much, didn't even kill the intruder,” a voice said, barely audible.
An Elder to Wake's left cut in, “We shall vote again. Will that satisfy you, Presider?”
“Indeed, and keep in mind what this man did for us.”
The Elders repeated the voting process. The same five Elders stood in Wake's favor, with the remaining twenty-five against. Just like the first time, Wake thought. How could the vote have stayed the same? Not even one of them appreciated what I did? Someone bought their votes before the trial even started!
The look on the Presider's face was stern as he stood once again. “Let it be known: Wake Darmekus has been censured for the malefactions stated at the beginning of this convocation. We shall now move to judgment. For crimes of this nature there is but one sentence, execution by asphyxiation in the void.”
16 - Felar
Felar had been on Haak-ah-tar for several days, waiting for Doc Hase to approve her for active duty. Finally, she thought, remembering all the rehab it had taken to restore her strength and fitness levels. Mentally, she still felt a bit shaky. You know you have to move on and focus on your new assignment. The task was proving difficult. How can I put the assault behind me if I can't even remember it? Anger filled her every time she thought of her attacker free and unpunished.
While she was happy to be back on combat deployment, Felar wasn't ecstatic when she’d learned she would be leading a squad of Initiates. Blighthearted new grads. She had nothing against them personally, but it would be a babysitting assignment.
“Sir, when deployed, I'm used to being with other Foundies,” she’d told her new commanding officer. “I fear their inexperience might lead to problems in the field. I need troops I can count on.”
“They are a good group, graduated top of their class,” her commander had replied. “You have a day to run drills and make sure they are ready. If you have a problem with any of them, let me know. We'll find a solution.”
Felar wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, but when she’d first met the new squad, her anxiety shot up quicker than an orbital defense lance. You’re fine, you’re fine, she’d told herself, trying to relax and maintain her professionalism.
Even after she started talking with them, the feeling persisted. It took all her focus to fight down an overwhelming urge to flee. What’s wrong with me? She’d never experienced anything like this before. Maintain your composure, she thought, forcing her jaw and shoulders to relax. I don’t have time to deal with this now. Have to make sure these Inits are well-trained and fit for deployment.
As she put her new squad through drills, Felar realized the Inits were smart and capable. They even looked up to her with a reverential awe. During the exercises it was obvious they were trying to impress her by outdoing each other. She even noticed a few of them had picked up on her speech patterns and mannerisms. None of it bothered her, and in a way, she felt flattered. At the c
onclusion of the day, Felar realized her initial nervousness had dissipated. What was that all about? A vague memory of a surrounding group skittered across the back of Felar’s mind, and some of her earlier tension returned. I have to get this under control, but for now…
“OK, squad,” Felar said, snapping out of her reverie, “we've received new sit-reps.” The armored personnel carrier jolted, throwing her against the seat restraints. “Ackerson,” she barked, “keep us off the worst of the rocks. My brain's feeling rattled enough as is.”
“Yes ma'am,” he responded, swerving the large vehicle around some new obstacle.
“Anyway,” Felar continued, trying to hold herself steady so she could read the terminal screen, “the Enthos have come back to Haak-ah-tar. Seven of their bi-pyramid ships just appeared inside the AF blockade. Nobody understands how they got there.” Felar paused, wondering how such a technologically backwards species pulled off that kind of trick. “It's some creepy blightheart,” she resumed, finding where she left off. “We've managed to hunt down two of the ships and destroy them, but the rest have evaded us. Looks like the remaining vessels are bombarding the surface with some kind of force or gravity weapon. The sci guys apparently have no idea how it works, but it creates earthquake-like effects and seems to emanate from their ships. They've been sending their vessels over areas with little to no tactical significance though, so enemy intel must be bad. Some vectors have gone over Ashamine targets, but it seems almost random.
“AF analysts speculate the Enthos are trying to take Haak-ah-tar back. That doesn't sound correct to me. Their tactics are all wrong for that objective. Unless they have a lot more tech, firepower, and ships coming, they can't hope to push us off world. Wonder what they are really up to...” Felar thought about the question for a moment, then looked back at her terminal screen, knowing she needed to focus on the mission and not the overall campaign. Leave that job to the Separates.
“Looks like we've also received a better brief on our current mission, thank the Founder. I was wondering if they were going to keep us boxed forever.” Felar quickly scanned the report, assimilating everything she needed to know.
“Squad, we're headed to a classified research facility.” She looked around the cramped quarters of the APC, making eye contact with each of them. “This is a big deal, guys. We've all received clearance to enter the installation, but none of us is to look at research intel. This is strictly a search and rescue op. An Entho vessel passed over the facility a few hours ago and Command hasn't been able to establish contact since. We are to find out what happened, render any aid we can provide, and report back.”
Despite her positive tone, Felar had a bad feeling. There was too much secrecy. The initial mission briefing had been scant. She hated that. Lack of information got people killed. And the fact it was a classified installation made it even more ominous. What are they researching there? What are we going to run into?
A notice popped up on her terminal that they were straying from the navigation track. “Initiate Ackerson, why are you are deviating from the nav coordinates?”
“The point's all screwy, Enlight Haltro,” Ackerson replied, tone cheery. Nav was having me go over some big buggered hills. Decided to go around, ma'am.” She could see he needed praise for his actions, so she gave it.
“Well done Ack. Glad you aren't just blindly following a machine.” She had guessed why they were off course, but keeping these Inits on their toes was vital. While she didn't expect an ambush—or even any Entho ground forces for that matter—it was good to encourage a habit of vigilance.
“Are there any other details about the facility, ma'am?” This was from Initiate Shanbek, a tall, gangly-looking youth, barely old enough to join the Forces.
“Nope,” she replied, “and since it's a classified location, I doubt they'll give us anything else. We're gonna be in a box and on our own, so best stay sharp.” Turning to her tactical readout, she addressed Ackerson, Shanbek, and the three other Initiates. “Now that we aren't just driving off into the desert to skim a nav coordinate, we can formulate mission protocol. When the blightheart comes, there is rarely time to stop and think. It has to be instinctual, so pay attention!” She paused for a moment and looked at everyone, using her eyes to reinforce the seriousness of her tone.
“First off, let's go over assignments. Ackerson, you are running tech. We shouldn't come across anything you haven't trained on yet. Intel says this is a standard Ashamine facility, so doors, computers, AI, and just about everything else should—and I stress should —be Ashamine standard. If you run into something over your head, let me know. My tech training is more advanced, so I might be able to help. Just don't panic, and we'll be OK.
“Shanbek, you are on scout and recon. Remember to calibrate to the highest sensitivity you can without getting too much interference. Since this is primarily a SAR mission, any contacts you get on your readout should be friendlies. Should and are can be very different things, so keep your weapons ready, but don't get too trigger psycho. We can't blast scientists or any other non-hostile that may be down there. That makes us look bad.
“Edwards and Unthar, you'll be on primary weapons duty. From what we know of on-site conditions at this point, you shouldn't have much to do. That isn't an excuse for laxness or inattentiveness! I've seen easy missions go to the fires of the black star so fast it would blast you from your boots. So stay on your toes and make sure you’re watching your squad’s tail.
“Malen, you’re supporting firepower. You'll man the big multi-barrel rail weapon. I know you’re certified, but make sure you respect it. Wield it wrong and you’ll kill us all. Use it correctly, and you can knock down anyone or anything. That gun has awesome power, as I hope you fully realize.” Felar stopped, looking at each at her troops to make sure they understood her. “Is everyone clear?” They all nodded their affirmation.
Felar's terminal alerted they were five minutes from the facility. “Check your weapons and gear loadout,” she commanded. She inspected her primary rail gun to make sure it had a full charge and was properly loaded. Felar did the same for her side arm. She also checked to make sure her short swords were in their scabbards across her back. Glad I sharpened them this morning.
Her own preparations complete, Felar made sure the Inits were doing likewise. All were slow to complete the task, but by the time Initiate Ackerson stopped the APC, they were ready. “Line up for deployment,” Felar barked.
When the ramp dropped, the Inits hustled out of the vehicle, running in a slight crouch with their primary weapons pointed at specific fields of fire. Felar brought up the rear, the position she had always taken when the squad drilled. Ackerson led them to a small door and began working the access panel. Good thing we didn't try to use the vehicle door, Felar thought, eying the larger entrance. They didn't design it to fit an APC.
Felar looked back to the squad and experienced a moment of pride as she watched the green Inits functioning as a team. True, it's not a combat drop , but at least they’re keeping formation. Good to see all that blighthearted drilling got through their thick skulls.
“Damn it!” Ackerson swore, still focused intently on the access controls. “Everything is locked down. It's not letting me open the door. Giving some kind of nonsense about not having an authorized code. Didn't we get this sequence from AF Command?”
“Affirm, Ackerson.” Felar's voice was commanding, but her tone was troubled. She clicked on her long range comm. “Overwatch, this is Tango-5.”
“Tango-5, Overwatch has you with synced signal,” a strong male voice replied.
“Overwatch, the supplied code for facility entry is non-functional. Request new code.” The officer was silent for several moments.
“Tango-5, the supplied code is correct. Repeat, is correct.”
“You sure you entered the sequence right, Ackerson?” Felar demanded.
“Yes ma'am,” he promptly responded. Felar trusted his skills, so there must be another issue.
“Tango-5, mission is still go. Use any means to gain entrance. This is a high priority objective.”
“Affirm,” Felar responded, wondering why they had dispatched a group of Inits if it was such an important mission. “Tango-5 out.” She looked at the door, wondering if they would be able to penetrate it. Why is a remote research facility high priority? What's behind this door? Blightheart... Maybe I don't want to know.
“Squad,” Felar barked, “either Intel got this buggered all the way to the fires of the black star, or the base is on extreme lockdown. Either way, we are on this side of the door and our objective is on the other. I, your ever-resourceful Enlightened, have a plan.” She said all this with a big smile on her face, even though her apprehension was deepening.
“Malen, use your multi to create an entrance.” After giving more precise directions, Felar moved everyone back to a safe distance. Watching the multi-barrel rail weapon spool up and launch was amazing. Its large cylinders circled slowly, pounding out a shot every quarter second. The tungsten alloy slugs packed an incredible punch, but they only dented the door at first. Felar thought it sounded like a dark star demon was beating on a horrible, tremendous metal drum. She increased the active sound dampening of her combat helmet, hoping to block out more of the shrieking cacophony. Sparks flew as rounds began penetrating the heavily reinforced door. Small metal fragments pelted her and Felar was thankful for her combat armor.
After thirty seconds of punishment, Felar called a halt. The door was bowed and numerous small holes dotted its surface, but it still barred entry. “Another thirty-second burst would probably finish the job, but I don't want to use all your ammo. We'll try a new tactic.” She pulled a small package of explosives from her combat vest. This compound was distributed exclusively to the Founder's Commandos, and with good reason. She molded a gob into a shaped charge, placing it on the door. As she set the timer, Felar ordered them to take cover. Running back to safety herself, she counted down: Four, three, two, one... The concussion wave boomed around them, and Felar was glad she hadn't been any closer. The helmet's dampening had maxed out, but she still heard ringing in her ears.
