ã€ŠThe Li-Tech Chroniclesã€‹


 Forged by Light - Prologue

    Humanity has long since moved past the borders of Earth. We have used up our ancestral home. We now hold fifty worlds and the question is no longer, Can we achieve it? No, the question now in the minds of the United Human Republic is, Can we hold it?

    Unranked Officer Benjamin Hargrave stared at the screen in disgust as he watched yet another group of privates being slaughtered by the enemy army. He had seen it before, the leadership of the Advanced Human Forces callously wasted lives every day simply because they felt it necessary. He protested on more than one occasion after seeing soldiers deployed without proper training. As it turned out, even the experience of a thousand years of war did not matter when confronted with politics.

    Hargrave itched to join the battle and protect those who could not fight well enough to save their own lives. The single battalion was not enough to defend the small colony, a fact made very clear when the settlement had been looted and destroyed. The enemy was so confident in their victory that they had already pulled out, leaving a single destroyer to act as a guard should reinforcements arrive. The Rear Admiral already denied his request to be that reinforcement, further informing him that his wants did not matter. He claimed he would rather lose lives than allow the enemy to know that Hargrave still lived.

    Still lived.

    Using those words to describe his existence was a mockery. His body had been rebuilt so many times that nothing organic remained. In fact, the ability to transfer his mind into a machine was part of what made him so pivotal in the war. On that day, he had become Steel Cast, a new race of pseudo humans that made the change to an inorganic existence.

    As the need for action intensified, he ran an internal diagnostic. The process verified that every part of his metallic body was ready for battle. Tearing his eyes away from the carnage, he routed power to a newly installed module. If he didn¡¯t do something soon, these young soldiers would join the voices that screamed at him from the shadows.

    Without saying a word, he walked away from the command deck, the gate room his unmistakable destination. ¡°Officer Hargrave,¡± Rear Admiral Swanson began, ¡°just where, in fact, do you think you are going?¡±

    Not breaking stride, he glanced over his shoulder and replied to the infuriatingly petty man. ¡°I am going to join those brave men. They do not deserve to die simply because you can¡¯t plan a war.¡±

    The words would sting the prideful admiral, but in his many years of life, Hargrave found he cared less and less about what others felt about him.

    ¡°You will not leave this ship,¡± the Admiral said to the retreating man. ¡°You have orders not to abandon this post. The secrets in your body alone are not worth the risk or your death.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t command the Unranked Officers, Admiral. I will not fall in battle, and even if I did, this frame would disintegrate, and I¡¯d return to the next body I have prepared.¡±

    The Rear Admiral became even more irate and screamed, ¡°This is my ship and my rules. It is not worth the risk!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wrong on both counts. I built the ship, therefore she is mine and so are her rules,¡± he said, taking another step down the hall. ¡°Or perhaps you think you can force me to stay? Have you finally found a way to detain me?¡±

    A dark grin spread across the admiral¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, we have. We even built it outside of the ship¡¯s primary system so that your little override wouldn¡¯t work.¡± He raised his hand and a sphere of light surrounded Hargrave, stopping his progress out of the room. The trap had been built intending to hold the gods known as the Unranked officers, Hargrave specifically.

    Connecting to the ships on-board systems, Hargrave found the admiral had spoken the truth. The barrier surrounding him had no connection to the primary computer. They had gone out of their way to construct a trap that he could not break. In a way, he was proud of them for creating something without the help of one of the seven. In retrospect, it surprised him that it took this long. It was only a matter of time before they would accomplish the feat. Believing otherwise was just foolish on his part.

    If Swanson knew that he already had his method of escape, he wouldn¡¯t have even wasted his time.

    Turning to face the admiral, Hargrave raised his hand to his chest to activate the new module. In a matter of nanoseconds, it was ready for execution. ¡°That is impressive, Swanson. Too bad I already have the counter to your little trick. Don¡¯t wait up. I am going fix your little issue,¡± he said as he initialized his personal gate.

    Swanson¡¯s face was one of shock as he saw the telltale signs of gate travel beginning. It didn¡¯t take long for the man¡¯s body to turn translucent and crack. Mentally pushing the process, it slightly irritated Hargrave to be put in a position that he needed to reveal this facet of his power. The cracks deepened and extended; he felt as though he were a hot glass that was thrown into cold water. Suddenly his body, which had taken the appearance of cracked stained glass, shattered. Before the shards could travel more than a few inches, they dissipated into nothing more than motes of light.

    Grinding his teeth, Rear Admiral Swanson turned his attention to the monitor, knowing what he would see. As expected, he watched the process he had just observed reverse itself. The man reformed from nothing but motes of light in a matter of a second. Hargrave, you fool. Your morality will get us all killed one day, he thought as he stared into the monitor, hoping that the coming display of carnage did not attract the attention of the Wandering Legion.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The moment his body reformed, Hargrave broke into a sprint, knowing that catching up to the enemy forces would be the only way to enact retribution. Preparing for the coming battle, he pushed politics out of his thoughts. A rational mind was essential for something like this. Running with as much speed as his mechanical form would allow, he mentally went over the list of weapons he currently had.

    After several minutes of running, he arrived in a clearing littered with bodies. Ahead, the enemy cruiser had closed its hatch and was rising into the air. Cursing himself for being too slow, he increased his power draw and selected his arm-mounted grapple. The miniature dwarf star mounted in his chest cavity supplied more than enough Light to power all his systems at max capacity. Raising his arm, he shot a blade no larger than an arrowhead at the escaping vessel.

    Once his HUD confirmed it was attached, he energized the connecting monofilament wire, causing it to retract. The speed it pulled him upward was only possible because of his metallic body. A human arm would have been dislocated at the very best, torn off at worst. As he neared the ship, he reached down with his free hand as a short rod extended from his thigh.

    Visualizing the weapon¡¯s desired shape, he activated it moments before impact while also magnetizing his boots to secure his footing. Raising the weapon, he sunk the blade of the Li-Tech spear into the armored hull, cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. After creating a hole roughly his size, he attached an anti-gravitation disk to the now loose section. Activating the device, the section of armor lifted away with no difficulty. Climbing into the vessel, he immediately set off in search of any surviving AHF soldiers.

    Before long, he found what he naively hoped he wouldn¡¯t. Something had forcibly cut four AHF soldiers from their armor with no consideration to the life form inside. Their shredded bodies lay in puddles of blood on the prison floor. Amazingly, Hargrave¡¯s HUD showed they were still alive. Barely, but still alive. Acting quickly, the officer copied each of their minds to his internal storage. Now that other lives were on the line, he knew he couldn¡¯t let this body be destroyed.

    ¡°Please¡­¡± a pained voice said from the corner. Apparently, one of these poor souls was still conscious.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, private. You¡¯re going to be ok,¡± he said, crouching down beside the man.

    ¡°Sir, save me, please¡­¡± His begging was cut off by a hacking, bloody cough. ¡°I don¡¯t want them to kill me. I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    Making the hard decision, Hargrave knew he couldn¡¯t extract these men physically. ¡°I¡¯m not Theresa,¡± he whispered. ¡°The only mercy I can give is to allow you to join the Steel Cast brigade. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    A blade of crimson formed in his hand and, with a quick motion, took away the soldier¡¯s pain. ¡°It is a fate I wish none had to bear,¡± he said, standing. His resolve to destroy the vessel and all its inhabitants doubled. Senseless torture was something that must be repaid in kind.

    He quickly and effortlessly dispatched the inhabitants of the ship as he encountered them. After a while, massive pipes and a continuous humming gave away the presence of his destination. A large, reinforced door stood at the end of a nondescript hall with no other visible entrances or exits to give further credence to his suspicion that he had found the engine room. Approaching, he saw a bio scanner set off to the side of the door. Code breaking and infiltration were not his skill sets. Those belonged to Tobias. His own skills were far less subtle.

    Allowing his HUD to search and analyze the weak points, he prepared to blow the door. Removing several small disks on his arm, he filled their Light cells and attached them to the door''s imperfections. He stepped out of the radius and sent the command to trigger the weapons. The white ring of light around each device turned a dark crimson as they readied themselves for detonation.

    Hargrave had designed these magnetic devices for situations exactly like this. Unlike their ancient cousin, these incendiary grenades used a pulse of Light instead of phosphorus as the primary fuel. When triggered, they would release all stored energy, creating extremely high temperatures capable of liquifying most known metals. Having released the stored energy, the series of disks intensified to a brightness that would damage his eyes¡­ if they were still organic. Light fading, there was nothing but the expected pile of slag where the barrier once stood.

    A war cry sounded as a being three meters in height charged out of the room, wielding a black battle-ax with a red glowing edge. Reacting with almost bored ease, Hargrave readied his weapon, reforming it into a saber as he blocked the incoming strike. His HUD constantly plotted and revealed each potential attack, allowing him to dodge the next several strikes. Side-stepping a backswing, he slashed across the creature''s abdomen, the sound of hardened Light rending flesh familiar in his ears.

    The creature cried out in a mixture of rage and pain. Pivoting to face the officer, it let go of the ax with one hand and swung at the weapons officer. Hargrave parried with his blade and severed the arm at the elbow before reversing his cut back across the stone-like chest of the creature''s skin. Flipping the pommel of his weapon, he reshaped the blade yet again into a long dagger before plunging it through the creature''s chest and into its heart.

    As the creature slowly died, the AHF Sentient Beings Database finally found a positive identity for these creatures. ¡°Raak¡¯Shee,¡± he said to himself as he skimmed the information that floated in his vision. Entering the now unguarded room, he found he was partially correct. While not the engine room, it was the ship''s central computer, an arguably more important piece of hardware.

    In front of him stood the central switching and relay terminal responsible for controlling the sub-light engines. The only true difference between this and human technology was that they built the system out of silicate-based components rather than a hybrid of several elements. Before destroying the terminal, Hargrave took a moment to scan the technology and send a full rendering of the tech back to his shared laboratory. The idea that he might use the rendering to reach new technological revelations highly intrigued him.

    Once the scan was finished, he carefully placed five more of the incendiary disks in key points around the control system. Targeting both the temperature regulator and the CPU would cause the loss of the heating unit and force an uncontrolled ascent into the blackness of space.

    He had nearly reached a full charge on each of the grenades when the ship¡¯s inhabitants finally noticed that something was wrong and started searching for him.

    At the end of the hallway, three more gray-skinned Raak¡¯Shee rounded the corner with weapons raised. Deciding that continuing to fight would be a complete waste of his time and patience, the metallic soldier started the detonation sequence. As the enemy forces began firing, his body once again took on the look of a cracked stained-glass window. With precision only he could truly replicate, his body fully shattered as the timer hit zero. The last thing he saw of the Raak¡¯Shee cruiser was a melting terminal.

    Ironically, the first thing he saw in his laboratory was a replica of the terminal he had just left.

 Forged by Light - Chapter 1

    ¡°The test today came back with something interesting. Sarath said it could change the world. I have my doubts.¡± ¡ª From the journal of Benjamin Hargrave, February 23, 2231.

    Jack was your normal college-age kid. He studied to a point, but he counteracted that effort with avid participation in the parties that were a constant on any college campus. His grades had been slipping further and further, but he always convinced himself that he would raise them ¡°when he needed to.¡±

    What a load of crap that was.

    There was no way for him to recover enough to pass the semester, much less be invited back for another one. In 3263, there were only two ways to remain a scholar. One of those was by having impeccable grades, which, of course, he had unapologetically thrown away for cheap thrills and long nights.

    The other was an option that would never be open to him. Students who could get in by paying the full tuition were almost always from families of incredible wealth. Much to the discontent of many generations, schools had not only remained for profit but had expanded that profit margin immensely. To the surprise of no one, that commercialization had put the full cost at near a million credits each year. Jack¡¯s family simply did not have the means to pay that price. Even if they had the money, they would have taken it away once they had learned of how quickly he squandered their gift.

    As had been his ritual for months, Jack found himself in the quad staring up at the polluted night sky, trying to see stars and wishing that he could break free from the hell that was Earth. Staring into the heavens, he chuckled to himself. It turned out that life was simply not fair. Six months ago, if you would have asked him if he wanted to leave Earth for one of the colonies, he would have laughed in your face.

    Now things were different. Every day, the news would beg for more volunteers to join the Advanced Human Forces. They wouldn¡¯t say why or for what reason¨Cthey never did¨Cbut Jack knew it wasn¡¯t a good sign if they were begging for people to join.

    Amused at the absurdity of him joining any military, Jack stood and walked back toward his dorm, barely noticing the man walking toward him. Most nights he was alone under the smoky sky, and tonight had been no different. Lost in thought, he nearly ran into the man, only brought back into the moment by the man¡¯s smooth voice and words that had nothing to do with the potential accident.

    ¡°I saw you looking at those stars, kid,¡± the stranger said. ¡°I know you dream of it, being up there. It gives you a sense of real freedom. God knows that doesn¡¯t exist here anymore.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Jack replied, ignoring the words and trying to dodge the man.

    ¡°You heard me. Here, take this,¡± he replied, taking the statement as a question. Grabbing Jack¡¯s hand, the stranger pushed a business card into it. ¡°Don¡¯t go back in there. Go out for a drink, a party, whatever you choose to do with your night. Keep the card. Think about it, and if you decide to join, call me.¡±

    ¡°Join what?¡± Jack asked as he put the card into his pocket. While he had no intention of ever looking at the thing, he didn¡¯t want to cause a scene.

    ¡°The AHF,¡± the stranger replied simply before turning to continue his walk.

    Almost like a spell had come over him, Jack took the stranger¡¯s advice and went out for that drink. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure why he followed the suggestion. Like many people pushed to desperation through a string of their own actions, he drank until he couldn¡¯t remember his name. The last of his finals had been earlier that day, and he had no desire to dwell on just how bad the results would be.

    It would be days before he remembered the interaction with the man in the quad, and weeks before he gave any thought to what he said.

    Jack stared up at the ceiling while he lay in his bed, unmade decisions churning in his mind. After finding out about how spectacularly poorly he had done in school and, more importantly, why, the look of furious disappointment from his parents was almost as bad as he expected. He had lost all but one of his scholarships, and he only kept that one out of pity. Now, even if he was invited for a return semester, the family would have to pay the full total of a million credits. He had known that money was the primary reason that people dropped out of school. What he had not known was how high that number actually was until they described it in detail as he left campus.

    For years, there had been a battle to socialize the school systems and allow anyone with a strong mind to become further educated. The problem was that there was simply too much money wrapped up in the business of knowledge. Several of the students in his first year were considered brilliantly gifted, but upon running out of the monetary capital to continue that education, were not seen on campus the following year. As it turned out, Jack was now among the ranks of students that served as examples for those that followed.

    He had become nothing more than a statistic.

    Over dinner, he had finally learned the truth: his education had been draining both life and savings from his parents. On top of taking a second mortgage on the house, his father held three jobs to cover the rest of his tuition. That knowledge compounded the guilt he felt about the entire situation. They had hidden their hardship from him for two years. When he asked his father why, he simply responded as he always had before: ¡°We Rise, son, We Rise.¡±

    His father had taught him the family motto as a child when Jack had been attempting to learn an instrument from the old days. One particular afternoon, he struggled with a piece for hours before finally giving up and walking away. That was the day his father had given him the family ring and explained its meaning.

    ¡°In Hardship, We Rise.¡±

    Now that school was gone from his future, he found himself lying in bed staring at a blank ceiling. Even without seeing them, the stars called out, reminding him of the stranger from a night that felt like a lifetime ago. The conversation replayed in his mind, teasing him, trying to prove that it was indeed the only choice left. Again and again, there was only one word that returned to the forefront of his mind: freedom.

    He had seen the advertisements on the web with the classic ¡®Earth Needs YOU!¡¯ signs plastering nearly every page. It was a picture of an old recruitment poster from a war far in the past, a stern man pointing at the camera, demanding that the viewer join his cause. The videos that followed never really showed anything of value. They didn¡¯t even attempt to remove some of the mystery that was the AHF. The only thing anyone could take away from the ad was that if you didn¡¯t join, you were clearly an alien sympathizer.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    He found the card in his coat pocket when he got home. He originally intended to throw it away, but intuition told him to hold on to the item. If he did this, joining the AHF would solve financial issues. The hundred thousand credit bonus would go far in paying his parents back. Inspecting it for what felt like the millionth time, he read the name and comms ID again.

    Master Sergeant Dale AHF

    AHFR17625399D

    He already lost his education, meaning the only career that remained was working in the carbon mines. He had lost the respect of his family by throwing away his only chance at changing his future. And to top it off, he even lost his friends when he told them he would not be returning the next semester. What else was there to lose?

    We Rise. The voice of his father said yet again in his mind.

    Enough of this.

    He had made his choices. It was time to take responsibility for them.

    The man answered on the second ring, ¡°AHF Master Sergeant Dale,¡± came a rough voice. ¡°Are you looking to opt out or sign up?¡±

    Taken by surprise, Jack stammered out an unintelligible answer, ¡°I, uh, well¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ You gave me this card a while back and, well¡­ I, um¡­¡±

    ¡°Come on, kid, breathe. I¡¯m not that scary.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, I¡¯m sorry, sir. I am looking to sign up. How¡¯d you know?¡±

    ¡°There are only two calls that come in this late at night. The first is you. Signing up usually takes a lot of time to reach that decision, time that is best spent alone. I¡¯m guessing that you¡¯ve thought about this for weeks, right?¡± Master Sergeant Dale said.

    ¡°Yes, I have.¡±

    ¡°Thought so. The second is people quitting right before the deadline and, well, since you¡¯re not crying and begging me not to make you go, I assume it¡¯s the former.¡± Jack could hear tapping as the other man worked his device. ¡°So. Signing up. Are you sure you want to do this?¡±

    With all the confidence he could muster, Jack replied, ¡°Yes, sir, I am.¡±

    ¡°Great to hear, but before I stuff you in a shuttle and ship you off, I need to hear your why. Why join an organization you know next to nothing about?¡±

    The why happened to be one thing he had really thought about before making this call. So, Jack quickly gave the truest answer he could. ¡°There is no life left on Earth. Even if I had the money to return to school, my only real career potential would be off-world as a colonist, anyway. You know as well as I the chances of your name being pulled on that lottery. Frankly, if I had the money to continue school, I would have bought my way off-world and started fresh out there. Staying on Earth is a prison sentence. I spend my nights staring up at the stars, wondering if I will ever break my chains. That the AHF is willing to give me that life and pay me at the same time, well, that¡¯s enough for me. And honestly, I hope I can use this opportunity, and the money, to help my parents get off-world.¡±

    ¡°Stars, kid, I never get an actual answer. I was just trying to make sure you thought this through. Do those loving parents of yours know what you plan to do?¡±

    ¡°Not yet, sir, but I know they won¡¯t like it. I think this is the path I want, and that¡¯s what matters, right?¡±

    ¡°Alright, now I will say this before I get started. If you tell them or not is up to you, ultimately that¡¯s your decision. However, there is no I think when it comes to joining. Once you¡¯re on that transport, you only come home for shore leave. If you value that relationship with your parents, tell them. Don¡¯t just disappear. You want someone to come home to. Your first shore leave is two years from the day you sign up. That is a long time to wait and be disappointed. Tracking?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now, I have one spot left on the bucket leaving at midnight. How fast can you get to Atlanta? Just letting you know, if you don¡¯t leave tonight, then you won¡¯t leave for another month or so.¡±

    ¡°I live in Atlanta already, sir. No time at all.¡±

    ¡°Great. Do you want your parents to do the drop-off, or would it be easier if I came to get you?¡± MSGT Dale¡¯s voice was softer. After enough time doing this, he could tell who could or could not handle leaving their family.

    ¡°If it is ok with you, sir, please come to me.¡±

    ¡°Understood, and kid, just remember, if you want to back out, you can. All the way till we get to the shuttle. Just let me know, ok?¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir. I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡±

    The comm flashed and went silent as the recruiter dropped off the line. Jack knew he needed to tell his parents. They deserved to know. The stairs creaked as he descended, his stomach in knots. He made his way into the living room and cleared his throat. ¡°Hey Mom, Dad, I have something I need to say¡­ I found a way to fix the money problems.¡± He paused and took a breath to calm himself before he continued, ¡°I am going to join the AHF.¡± In an instant, the look of perpetual disappointment he¡¯d received all day was replaced with a mixture of surprise and outrage.

    ¡°What! Why?¡± his dad shouted, jumping up with his hands in fists.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to put pressure on you guys anymore. You¡¯ve taken care of me my whole life. It¡¯s high time I took care of you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, son. Where is this coming from?¡± his father said, sinking back into his chair. The short answer replaced anger with sorrow. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±

    ¡°Your dad¡¯s right. Sure, it¡¯s hard right now, but we can manage. We always have in the past. This is nothing but one more hurdle.¡±

    ¡°Mom, I failed out of school. I lost my scholarships, or at least the ones that would make going back possible. But that doesn¡¯t matter anyway, the administrators didn¡¯t invite me back. Let¡¯s just face it, the only life left on Earth for someone my age is going into the mines or manufacturing. If I do that, then I won¡¯t ever be able to pay you back. At least the AHF, they will pay me fairly for what I do. I can even send something back to you from time to time.¡±

    ¡°You sound like this has been coming for a while,¡± His father replied, sounding like he was going to break down any second. ¡°Has it been?¡±

    Laughing, Jack looked at them. ¡°Yeah, it has. Ever since I completed my finals, though, I only came to the decision tonight. The recruiter is coming to get me now. He says there is a shuttle leaving at midnight. He also says that giving it more time than necessary usually makes people opt out. So, I guess this is my last night on Earth.¡±

    Silence fell in the living room of the Monroe home as they each processed just how little time they had.

    ¡°Tonight? I get you don¡¯t want to let this fester, but why so soon?¡± his mother said as she walked over to hug him.

    ¡°Because, Mom, you just said it yourself. I would talk myself out of it and I know it. This is the best option for me.¡±

    Over the next half hour, they talked about everything that could and would happen. Jack tried over and over to reassure them both that this was the best of the bad options. They spoke about memories and the future, his parents trying their best to see the positive in the decision. He explained his intent to buy a home for them off-world and was met with nearly the same feelings he had about leaving the planet.

    The doorbell rang, the simple sound heralding the end of life as he knew it. ¡°Wow, that was fast¡­ I guess it is time.¡±

    Giving them both one last hug, he said, ¡°My first shore leave is in two years, but I will do everything I can to call or send messages if possible. I love you guys.¡±

    Crying softly, his father whispered, ¡°We love you, son, and we always will. Thank you for being such a great kid.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t be prouder, Jack,¡± his mother began, ¡°but you better come back in one piece. If you are missing a foot or something, I am going to beat you with the prosthetic.¡± She wiped a tear from her eye while smiling.

    ¡°You guys do know that I¡¯m not dead, right? We¡¯ll see each other again. I¡¯ll keep a journal for when I can¡¯t send anything.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d like that. Never forget, In hardship¡­¡± his father began.

    ¡°We Rise,¡± Jack finished.

    Walking to the front door, Jack opened it to find MSGT Dale standing there. ¡°You ready?¡± he whispered. ¡°We have some time if you need it.¡±

    Swallowing back his tears, Jack replied, ¡°No sir, let¡¯s do this.¡±

    As he walked down the path to the street, his parents never once took their eyes off him. Not when he climbed in the air-car, nor when it lifted off. And, although he wouldn¡¯t know it, they continued to stand in that doorway for quite a while after he was gone.

 Forged by Light - Chapter 2

    ¡°The anomaly could be just that. The subject¡¯s mass changes the longer we observe it, something that is just not possible.¡± - From the journal of Benjamin Hargrave, June 15, 2231.

    Jack stared out of the air-car window, watching the city lights pass far below. The silence forced him to dwell on the decision to join. Part of him wanted nothing more than to ask the master sergeant to turn around and bring him back. The more dominant part knew that joining the AHF was his only true ticket away from Earth and into a decent future. He suspected the silence was the recruiter¡¯s way of giving him time to process, but right now, it simply was causing more turmoil.

    ¡°Sir?¡± Jack asked, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Dale replied.

    ¡°How did you do it? Joining up, I mean. I feel like turning tail right now, and I¡¯ve done nothing but ride in a car. The AHF was never my dream. Hell, for most of my life I hated the idea and mocked those that joined¡­ No offense,¡± he added quickly after catching the glance that Master Sergeant Dale tossed his way. ¡°I mean, leaving my friends was simple compared to leaving my family. Most are so deep in their own haze that I could call right now, and the talk would be nothing but a faint memory.¡±

    ¡°I get it,¡± he replied after allowing the silence to build again. ¡°Family is generally a person¡¯s closest ties. Honestly, I am more worried when a recruit is not upset at this point in their journey. It usually means that they will be trouble. If you don¡¯t feel the fear now, you will not be willing to pull the trigger of self-sacrifice out in the field. You mentioned haze. You don¡¯t have a drug problem, do you?¡±

    ¡°Honestly? Yeah, I¡¯ve done my share. I stopped after a good friend forced me to see that I¡¯d lost myself. It was why I failed school. Well, that, and just not caring anymore.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you this, Jack. that crap doesn¡¯t fly out there in the black and it definitely doesn¡¯t fly when you are on assignment. You can have fun on shore leave, but bringing it back to your duty station will endanger the lives of other soldiers. We won¡¯t let anyone compromise a mission for a hit of whatever crazy drug they found on a planet. Do me a favor when you get up there: look for the best in your class. Stars, be the best in your class if you can. Find a group of friends that won¡¯t let you down, and for the love of the UHR, do not get yourself labeled as a troublemaker. The punishments do not fit the crime out there.¡±

    A few moments of silence passed in the vehicle as Jack thought about the recruiter¡¯s words. ¡°Hey, sir?¡± Jack said, picking up the conversation again as he saw the shuttle station. ¡°Who are we fighting up there? How are they going to get us ready for combat? I guess, training? But¡­ can we really fight the monsters they show in the adverts?¡±

    ¡°Well, Jack ¨C first off, you¡¯re going to need to learn your ranks, and fast. That sir stuff is only for officers. People like me with the tiger stripes, you can just say sergeant. Short answer to the first question: we are fighting an enemy, and that is going to have to be enough for now. For the second, you¡¯ll learn through hard work and training. It will most definitely suck, and you will end up hating me. But at the end of the day, it is the only way you can fight on the level that nature gives some of these creatures.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t make a very good case for joining, you know that? Where is all the fanfare, the speech about protecting our people and saving the oppressed?¡±

    Chuckling, MSG Dale looked at Jack and grinned. ¡°Stars, boy, we don¡¯t give speeches like that for two reasons. First, we don¡¯t always look like the good guys up there. Second, there are forces in the universe that can ¨C and do ¨C wipe the floor with humans. Look at us. We aren¡¯t physically built for war. Some of those races are nothing but killing machines.¡± The air-car began its descent. ¡°It¡¯s not as much about the pomp and circumstance as it is the need for us to survive.¡±

    Looming in front of them was a sleek silver and black spacecraft shaped like an old nuclear submarine from the days of Earth-based warfare. At the rear of the vessel, an X-shaped engine array glowed softly as it waited for takeoff. ¡°Alright, Jack, let¡¯s do this,¡± MSGT Dale said when the air-car came to a stop.

    As they climbed out of the vehicle, MSGT Dale motioned toward a small brick building that sat near the shuttle. Walking inside, it surprised Jack to see how full the room was. There was no room to move or even really get comfortable, especially considering that every recruit was standing shoulder to shoulder.

    Ignoring MSGT Dale, a small guy grabbed Jack by the hand and pulled him into line with the others. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, he said, ¡°Come on, blondie, pack in like fish in a box. They told us to get in close. This is about as close as we can get. The dude in the front has been telling us to get in line and shut up, but I can only do one of those at a time. What the hell are you doing here so late, anyway? Don¡¯t you own a watch?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Jack replied, slightly taken aback by the man. The speed at which he spoke left Jack wondering where the conversation even started.

    ¡°Dude, the notice they send you says to be here by midnight. Know what? I don¡¯t care. If you want to make your arrival by the grace of Saint Peter¡¯s ball hair, then that is up to you. I am sure you have a good reason for almost being late for your new job. I¡¯m Alec, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Late? I honestly just made the decision tonight. How was I supposed to have an itinerary?¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re supposed to know what they are thinking before they do. Don¡¯t you know that one by now?¡±

    Jack turned and got a good look at the man who had so eloquently mentioned a saint¡¯s testicles in the first fifteen seconds after meeting someone new. He was small with black, wiry hair, and the brownest eyes he¡¯d ever seen. If his mischievous grin hadn¡¯t pegged him as trouble, the ¡°who farted?¡± t-shirt made it clear.

    ¡°You like what you see?¡± he said, attempting to pose seductively and failing miserably.

    ¡°Nobody likes what they see, Alec,¡± the response came from a deep voice with a heavy Southern accent just to the side of Jack in the next column over. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to that guy, buddy. He¡¯s an idiot and has been my entire life. I¡¯m Dave.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Jack.¡± He shot Dave an incredulous look. ¡°You know this guy?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we met in school. He¡¯d good people.¡± Dave shrugged, ¡°You just gotta¡¯ ignore half the shit that he says, and you¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    ¡°And the other half?¡± Jack asked playfully.

    ¡°All comic gold!¡± injected Alec, pushing his way back into the conversation. ¡°You see, my wonderfully clueless, soon-to-be brother in arms, you are currently wondering why we are just standing here, waiting patiently like hookers on the corner if it was so important to get in. Truth is, it wasn¡¯t. All I wanted was to throw another sausage in the middle of this train.¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Dammit, Alec. You could give the poor guy five minutes before you start throwin¡¯ around the dick jokes,¡± Dave said, putting a hand over his face.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that said ignore half. That was the half to ignore,¡± Alec grinned.

    ¡°The problem with your jokes isn¡¯t that they aren¡¯t plentiful,¡± said Jack. ¡°It¡¯s that they really aren¡¯t that funny. I mean, you could have at least attempted to make it funny by saying we had to hurry up and wait. Isn¡¯t that what the old military was known for?¡±

    ¡°That is as hurtful as it is true,¡± Alec replied with a hand to his chest in mock pain before speaking in a false British accent, ¡°However, that is the point of scholarship, is it not? You learn from your failure over and over until, one day, you might just become a true scholar of comedy.¡±

    ¡°I think you have no clue what a scholar is,¡± Jack said. ¡°I will concede that you at least seem to learn well enough to stand in a line. Should I find you a box of crayons to chew?¡±

    Laughing, Dave answered, ¡°Man, if you only knew. Here he is busting your balls about being late, yet this joker didn¡¯t even get here until about five minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°Your point, Mr. David?¡± Alec mocked.

    ¡°Hold up,¡± Jack interrupted before the tirade could begin again. ¡°You are lecturing me about time, yet you have only been here a few seconds longer?¡±

    ¡°Minutes,¡± he said, raising his index finger into the air as if he were defending himself in court. ¡°And, you see, if I can make you think I know what is actually going on, then I win.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Blind faith that lets me into your head to trick you into some half-cocked, stars-cursed plan of mine that may or may not end in us being chased down the road.¡±

    ¡°Please shut your face. It is way too late in the night for your special blend of stupid,¡± Dave interjected.

    Just then, a hush fell over the room as a man in black fatigues cleared his throat. Once the noise finally trickled into silence, he spoke. ¡°Good evening, recruits. I am Ensign Spear. Tonight, you will each embark on a journey. For some, it will no doubt be nothing more than a ride back to your home, and that is ok. For others, however, you will board the shuttle outside and be flown up to the carrier ship.¡± Pausing for a moment, he looked around the room before continuing. ¡°Before we board, there is, of course, some paperwork to be had. What kind of military would it be without it? First, we will go over a series of three documents you will be required to sign before shipping out. If you are uncomfortable with any of these three documents, you are free to walk out of the building. However, doing so will bar you from any recruitment office for six months.¡±

    As he finished, a large screen came on behind him with the words ¡®The first Oath¡¯ in the center. ¡°We will begin here. I (state your name) agree to enlistment in the AHF for no less than a period of twenty Earth years. I further understand that, in the event of wartime action, I will be required to serve until such a time as there is no longer conflict or a period of thirty total years have passed. Last, I understand that by enlisting in the AHF I forgo any allegiances and holdings on Earth. This includes, but is not limited to, personal belongings, land, and nationality. Should I choose at the time of my separation from the AHF, I will be provided with relocation on any UHR colony planet of my choice.¡± Looking back at the room, Ensign Spear said, ¡°If you agree, please press your thumb on your mobile device. If you do not, please seek the nearest exit.¡±

    With the weight of potentially thirty years now a known part of the enlistment, several people began making their way out of the building to return to whatever life they had. It was easier for many to accept the devil they knew rather than the one they did not. Jack knew that he really didn¡¯t have the option, so he remained where he stood.

    ¡°This is heavy, man,¡± Alec whispered into his ear. ¡°Why so much time?¡±

    ¡°More than likely because recruitment is down in the first place. Either that or they need every soldier they can get for as long as they can get them,¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°Thank you for your interest,¡± Spear called to the backs of the retreating people. ¡°This is not something everyone can, or wants, to do. Good luck out there.¡± Turning back to the room, the officer continued, ¡°Moving on to our second oath. I (state your name) hereby swear to uphold any and all secrets of the AHF including but not limited to technology that is seen or used in my time with the organization. I also understand that this restriction also includes any and all citizens of Earth, and is in place to protect the people from what they do not understand. I swear I will protect the secrets of the human race from other hostile powers in order to further protect the people from outside threats. I understand that any breach of this oath is considered treason and therefore handled with the full force of punishment it entails.¡±

    Stopping again to allow the words to sink in, Ensign Spear looked around to gauge just how many would leave. Thinking about what he was asked to sign, Jack found that the idea of keeping the AHF¡¯s secrets was a simple one. Why would he ever want to share that information in the first place? Nonetheless, several more people silently pushed their way out of the room.

    ¡°I want you all to think about this one. It carries more weight than it appears.¡± said the Ensign. ¡°Remember, this oath is to protect the people of Earth from knowing too much about what is really out there. If that makes you uncomfortable, you may leave.¡±

    With no more people making moves for the door, the Ensign switched his screen to the third and final oath. ¡°Please read along with me, I (state your name) hereby agree that I will not refuse any medical procedures deemed by the AHF as required to enhance my combat readiness. I understand that the AHF will do everything in its power to save my existence in whatever way is deemed necessary. I retain the right to inquire about the necessity of procedures, provided time is not a factor for life-saving measures. I hereby forgo any religious restrictions concerning the modification of self.¡±

    As Jack reread the third oath, he felt a large measure of trepidation about what they might do in the name of ¡°combat readiness.¡± Looking around, he saw a similar look of horror planted firmly on many faces around him. This was the hardest of the three to agree with. It was essentially an open invitation to be used as a lab rat. Behind him, Alec vocalized his fear.

    ¡°What the actual star-dust is combat readiness supposed to mean? What are they going to do to us? Dave, do you see this crap, man? I don¡¯t know if I can do it.¡± The panic in his voice was the first authentic emotion Jack had heard from the man.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be alright, Alec,¡± Dave said, placing a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Read it again, buddy. They won¡¯t do anything drastic unless it is to save your life. Personally, I find it reassuring that they¡¯re willing to save us.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°Because, man, I don¡¯t want to bleed out on the ground of some alien planet just because I didn¡¯t consent to be saved. This is basically just them asking ahead of time if they can help me out should the worst happen.¡±

    Dave¡¯s words calmed Jack as he considered it in a new light, and the man was right. The third oath boiled down to granting permission to save him in a life-or-death situation. It wasn¡¯t sadistic by design; in fact, it was merciful.

    More people left after the reading of this oath than had left from the previous two combined. Looking at the crowd as if he knew this would be the case, Ensign Spear nodded at those who remained respectfully.

    As the last of the people who refused to sign left, the Ensign turned back to the remaining recruits. ¡°Congratulations, recruits. I want you to know that it is a major accomplishment for me to say that to you and mean it. Statistically, only one in ten people ever have the thought of joining up. It also goes to say that only one in ten of those actually does it. I thank you for your bravery. For all intents and purposes, you are now what we will refer to as an E-1. Those who have signed all three documents may no longer leave this facility; you are now the property of the AHF.¡±

    The Ensign''s eyes glowed an odd pinkish color. A second later, Jack heard heavy locks engage on the door leading out of the recruitment hall. As his eyes faded back to their original color, the officer turned to address them again.

    ¡°I do not want to cause you to worry. However, you should each know two things before we move on. The first is that I was serious about not leaving. The doors will be locked to the outside and no communication will be allowed in or out without my express permission. I will tell you now, recruits, in the forty-five years that I have held this ceremony, not once have I found a reason worth opening those doors again. The second is this: should you become either a conscientious objector or, frankly, a coward in the next ten minutes, you will not like the results. Please, do not make me do something neither of us will enjoy.¡± Taking yet another brief pause, he continued, ¡°You will now begin moving single file outside and onto the runway. Once there, you will see a man at the top of a set of stairs. That is your destination. As you pass by him, you will look him in the eyes and state your name. Those are your first orders. Move, recruits!¡±

 Forged by Light - Chapter 3

    ¡°I am convinced. We have discovered something here, the others simply want to let it die, but I am sure that there is more to be learned.¡± - From the journal of Benjamin Hargrave, January 6, 2232.

    As soon as the room emptied, Alec started talking at the speed of a man in full panic. ¡°What the hell just happened back there?¡± he began. ¡°I mean, for real, the dude¡¯s eyes glowed. How many people can make their eyes glow?¡±

    ¡°Alec, you need to take a breath, buddy,¡± Dave began. ¡°There has got to be a reasonable explanation for what we saw.¡±

    ¡°To top it off, what are you going to do about it now? You already signed up; you belong to them now, literally,¡± Jack said, adding to the conversation.

    ¡°Wait, what? Who says I belong to them?¡± the small man replied, still panicking.

    ¡°You did¡­ Just now when you signed those documents,¡± Jack replied flatly. ¡°Did you not realize that?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t realize that!¡± Alec nearly shouted. ¡°Do you think I would have joined if I realized I would be giving away my¡­ me!¡±

    ¡°Alec, we went over this back home,¡± Dave said. ¡°We knew for a fact we didn¡¯t have all the information here. You¡¯re going into space for the military. Did you not think you would belong to them?¡±

    ¡°Obviously not! I mean, I am still human.¡±

    ¡°And they return those rights to you once you are no longer the property of the AHF,¡± Jack added as they continued trying to help Alec come to grips with the life he was about to live.

    Being some of the last to arrive, the three men were among the last group of future soldiers to shuffle out of the door and onto the runway. The night was a rare one. The relative clarity of the sky allowed the stars to be seen, if only just. As always, the ever-present layer of pollution obscured the view.

    A tall man stood at the top of a set of stairs leading into the shuttle. He wore a mottled gray and black uniform with a yellow symbol of a coiled rope on the shoulder. A round hat with a dramatic downward tilt completed the ensemble. The angle was so overly pronounced that if he bothered to address you, it would be while actively looking down at you.

    ¡°Who is that?¡± Jack asked, turning his head and speaking over his shoulder briefly.

    ¡°I am going to guess he is someone you do not want to piss off,¡± Alec replied.

    ¡°Not helpful.¡±

    ¡°I would say,¡± Dave said, ¡°that he¡¯s more than likely the guy Spear told us about.¡±

    ¡°Again, obvious,¡± Jack replied flatly.

    ¡°He is one of our trainers,¡± said a female with an Irish accent from behind Alec. ¡°Now stay quiet so that he has no reason to make an example out of us.¡±

    ¡°And how would you know that?¡±

    ¡°You can see it clearly; the man has rank and carries himself like he owns the world. Now shut your hole before I shut it for ya.¡±

    Jack took the woman¡¯s threat to heart and fell silent. That did not, however, stop Alec from continuing to rant as they drew closer to the man.

    ¡°I mean, come on, guys, how long can it take to walk up and tell him your damn name? We have been in this stupid line for nearly an hour now,¡± Alec complained to those who ignored him. ¡°Look at him. He hasn¡¯t once typed anything into a tablet or ever written anything down. How could he possibly be recording the names in the first place?¡±

    The surrounding recruits refused to acknowledge Alec because of their ever-increasing closeness to the man on the stairs. It wasn¡¯t until he was on the stairway that Jack finally got a good look at him.

    The eyes below the edge of the hat were hard in a way that Jack had never seen. His feet were perfectly shoulder-width apart and his hands tucked firmly behind him. His mouth was drawn tight in a look of scorn. He looked more akin to a statue rather than a man, considering just how little he moved.

    His eyes flicked back and forth, following each recruit as they entered the craft. Otherwise, no part of him moved as he stood sentry. Dave was the first of the group to reach the platform and stand before their instructor.

    ¡°Uh, David West.¡± He said. Instead of moving on, he stood there as if waiting for something. ¡°Uh, Whats next?¡±

    In an incredibly soft voice that still sounded menacing, he said, ¡°Recruit? I know you did not just ask me a damned question. If you did, that would mean my Ensign did not do his job. I know very well that he did his job.¡±

    Fully intimidated, Dave moved forward and into the craft. Moving Jack to the head of the line.

    ¡°Jack Monroe.¡± He said, looking directly into the man¡¯s cold eyes as he proceeded to the hatch. Before crossing the threshold, he turned back for one last glance at the Atlanta skyline. A view that had been a constant in his life since childhood.

    Jack expected to see an airlock, like those he had seen in movies. From what he understood, it was the only foolproof way to ensure a safe connection to the ship they were docking with.

    That was not what he saw. In fact, the interior of the shuttle seemed to match that of an airplane. To his left was what he assumed to be the cockpit, or whatever they were called on a spacecraft. To his right was a long alleyway with rows of five on either side of the aisle.

    Turning right, he noticed a blinking light guiding them down the aisle. On-the-fly seating instruction, he thought to himself as he walked. When it reached the last row, it stopped in front of a seat and waited for him to catch up.

    Each flight chair was independent of the others in its row and large enough that a recruit could sit comfortably without issue. The stylized logo of the AHF was stamped into the white leather headrest of each seat. If he was being honest with himself, it seemed to be more like what you would find at the desk of a businessman.

    ¡°Well, this isn¡¯t what I expected at all,¡± Alec said, examining his own chair before him. ¡°I thought it would be another sardine can situation all the way to wherever we are going. This¡­ is now my throne!¡±

    ¡°For the love of the saints, does this man ever shut his trap?¡± asked the same female voice from the other side of Alec. ¡°He hasn¡¯t shut his mouth since we stepped out of the bloody hall.¡±

    ¡°Be glad,¡± Dave said, looking over at the redheaded woman. ¡°If you only started hearing him there, you haven¡¯t been behind us long.¡±

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t. Does he always act like a child with a new toy?¡±

    ¡°Well, from my limited exposure to the man, yes. But he will eventually stop talking and those five minutes will be pure bliss,¡± Jack said with a smile. Extending his hand, he said, ¡°I¡¯m Jack.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Nessa,¡± she began. ¡°And the quiet one next to me is Warren.¡±

    ¡°Warren, I want to apologize already, man. It looks like you are being dragged into this as well,¡± Dave said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let him fool ya. He is just watching until he knows ya well enough. Once he opens up, he¡¯s the crassest person I¡¯ve ever met,¡± Nessa said.

    ¡°Then how is a wonderful lady like you friends with a jackass like that?¡± Alec asked, his goofy grin plastered to his face.

    ¡°First of all, I like crass,¡± she said. ¡°Second of all, this man is the single most loyal person I have ever met. Once he calls you friend, that is.¡±

    Jack stood, making his way in front of the man in question, and stuck out his hand. Hesitantly, Warren took the hand and shook. Before he had time to react, Jack had pulled the man in for a hug.

    Before letting go of the man, he whispered, ¡°You have the look of someone who¡¯s fought and lost. You don¡¯t have to fight alone anymore; I¡¯ll be your brother.¡± Separating from the man, Jack turned and took his seat once again.

    ¡°So, what the hell is the problem here? Why did they make the seats on this bucket so big? I mean, I feel like I¡¯m drowning, for one, but they could have easily fit another fifty or so onto this thing with smaller chairs,¡± Alec complained yet again.

    ¡°Alec, now even I can tell that the point is to calm us down. Packing us in more tightly wouldn¡¯t do anything but cause more anxiety. Frankly, we are two hundred kids in a tin can about to get blasted off to who knows where without ever having left our home before. A little extra room in the boat is a small price to pay to prevent people from panicking,¡± Dave said, looking over at him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t buy it.¡±

    ¡°It is simple physics,¡± said Warren from the end of the row. ¡°On top of what he just said, the seat is more than likely able to compensate for the gravity that will be on us while we break out of the atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°That seems reasonable,¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°Also, I don¡¯t converse with people that do not even tell me their names. So, unless you are willing to part with it, I will back out of this conversation now,¡± Warren said, a look of consternation on his face.

    ¡°Whoa now, look at the quiet one speaking up. I¡¯m Alec.¡±

    ¡°Dave,¡± he said with a wave. ¡°Nice to meet you. To be fair, with Alec¡¯s mouth, I don¡¯t know how any of us ever speak. He never has much to say that is actually worth it, though, so don¡¯t you mind him.¡±

    ¡°Hey, without my comments, how would poor old Jack here learn what nuts to butts means?¡± Alec said with a hurt look.

    ¡°I think, just maybe, I could have figured it out,¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°Alright, shut your hole. He¡¯s coming,¡± Nessa said, cutting the conversation off.

    Her words proved true. The man from the stairway entered the cabin and stared at the recruits as if waiting for something. As time passed, his face became more and more displeased.

    Most of the recruits ignored him and simply continued talking as though he was not there. In fact, had it not been for Nessa, Jack knew they would be one of those groups. It was at least three full minutes before enough people recognized his presence and fell silent.

    ¡°Alright, recruits, listen up and listen up well. What just happened will not happen again. That was your one and only warning.¡± Glaring out at the sea of now silent recruits, he pointed to one at random. Voice remaining cold and calm, he said, ¡°You, what the hell did you do wrong?¡±

    The newly minted recruit sat in his seat, a look of shock on his face from being called out. One look and it was obvious that he had no clue what the ¡°right¡± answer was, although it was also obvious that the man standing in front of them had no patience when people gave no response.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have all night, recruit. I may not have enough room on this boat to smoke you now, but I promise, soon we will be on a ship with plenty of room. Plenty room and plenty time, time in which I will have the freedom to begin your physical conditioning. So, recruit, I say again. What in the hell did you all do wrong?¡±

    Gathering his courage, the recruit spat, ¡°I don¡¯t know, man, I¡¯m not in the military yet so I have no clue what the hell to do, you blown-up prick.¡±

    Jack watched as a dark smile spread across the tall man¡¯s face. It was a look that he would learn meant the near future would not be pleasant.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long, long time since a recruit dared to speak to me like that, boy. I think that¡¯ll be your new name. How about it, boy? You have just joined an organization where, for all intents and purposes, I am your mama. A mama who you just talked back to. I have now burned your face into my memory, recruit. I promise that is an honor only a few receive, and even fewer enjoy. So, boy, I hope the jab was worth it because I have now made it my personal mission in life to break you down and turn you inside out. If I were allowed, I would rip off your head and shit down your neck. Since I don¡¯t have that honor, yet, I will just have to make sure that you stay in my memory.¡± He spoke every word of the monologue with the same cold, detached voice he¡¯d used all night.

    ¡°Now, to the rest of you, I want to introduce myself. For some, my calm and collected voice will bring the more masochistic of you joy. For most of you, I suspect it will be a sign that life is about to suck. What I just said to Boy over here is true. I am your mama now. You may call me Drill Sergeant Roberts.¡± He paused for a moment, looking out over the crowd of faces before yelling, ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    If Jack would have seen the reaction from outside, it may have been almost comical. Instead, the sergeant¡¯s monologue simply shook him in a way that made it near impossible to look away. Around him, the recruits nodded, showing that they did indeed understand what he said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get the warm and fuzzy¡¯s from nods, recruits! They come from a testicle-infused yell of ¡®Yes, Drill Sergeant.¡¯ I ask again, do you knuckle-dragging lowlifes understand?¡±

    A scattered response echoed around the cabin, but at the very least, it was the phrase that Roberts was looking for. Ensuring that he still held the attention of every recruit, he continued.

    ¡°Now, for those of you who do not know, that is to say, all of you, when anyone of higher rank enters a room, the first of you to notice will call out in a crisp and loud voice, AT EASE!¡± Pausing here for a second to see if any would catch on, he was not surprised when nobody stood. ¡°At that command, you will all get to your feet as quick as humanly possible. If you could be on your way up before they entered, that would be even better. But since none of you can see the future, I will just have to settle with perfection. Once you are on your feet, you will spread them shoulder-width apart and tuck your hands behind your back. You will hold your right hand with your left, and you will keep your hands open. Observe.¡±

    At that, he turned on his heel and assumed the position he had described. ¡°I will wait for each and every one of you to hold the position perfectly before we do anything else, even if it takes all night. AT EASE!¡±

    Pausing again, DS Roberts was pleasantly surprised when five people in the very back row jumped to their feet and assumed the position. ¡°Well, it looks like only a few of you caught that. Let¡¯s try again. AT EASE!¡± This time, the entire cabin erupted into movement as two hundred recruits assumed their first military stance.

    ¡°Good job. You have now accomplished something that any child of five could accomplish with the right guidance. Does that make you feel good? It most definitely should not. This is the most basic command I could teach you.¡± DS Roberts continued his tirade. ¡°Do not fear, recruits, I am known for being willing to let you try over and over again to perfect your posture. I will wait for your perfection, and once I have it, I will gladly stare at it until I am bored at which point you will hear me say ¡®as you were.¡¯ Once I have uttered those words, only then may you break from your perfection and return to whatever dumb idiocy you were doing prior. Does that sound like fun to you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Drill Sergeant!¡± came a staggered response from the recruits.

    ¡°I am well aware that each and every one of you is full of crap right now, but it warms my icy heart to think that you will at least try to make me happy. However, I want you each to know now that nothing you do will ever make me happy,¡± Roberts continued in the same cold, hard voice.

    ¡°Each of you is here for one reason and one reason only. We need recruits out there, warm bodies to put on the line. Until you have proven your worth, that is all you will be to me. Your existence in this organization tells me that somewhere, a better man or woman has fallen in battle. Unfortunately, I cannot print up new copies of those soldiers, so you will have to do.¡±

    Pacing the alley, he again continued, ¡°I want to touch on failures and quitters. Failing out is simple. You will be recycled. That means that you get to redo basic training over and over again until you come up with the testicular fortitude to push through. That being said, finishing training quickly is the best option for you, as failures are not looked at warmly. For quitters, the punishment is much more severe and can take one of two forms. What are those forms? I am glad you asked. They are as follows: one, we will transfer those of you with a modicum of sense, and didn¡¯t have the testicular fortitude to complete training, to a department that needs gophers. Two, those of you with no sense at all will become gophers on a ship''s maintenance crew. More specifically, you handle waste reclamation on that vessel. Simply put, we do not throw away tools in the AHF.¡±

    He paused again as he allowed that to sink in among the recruits. Quitters were seen as the lowest of the low, and they would be treated that way. Roberts hoped with everything he had that none of these recruits would fall to this fate.

    ¡°I hope each of you realizes this is not a job you want. If you had the heart to get up here and join in the first place, you better have the balls to keep going. There is nothing more that I hate than a quitter. I can fix a failure; I can mold them into a soldier worth my time. Some people are not cut out for the front lines, and frankly, that is ok. That is exactly why they make eggheads. Do you understand?¡±

    The group responded accordingly.

 Forged by Light - Chapter 4

    ¡°I am glad we continued to push on. The deeper we dig, the more we find. It appears that the first layer is nothing but a shield for what lies deeper.¡± - From the journal of Benjamin Hargrave, May 12, 2232.

    ¡°Now that I feel like you have at least begun to stand in my presence properly, I will now screw up any progress you¡¯ve made. In a moment, I will utter the phrase ¡®as you were.¡¯ Those of you with at least some semblance of short-term memory will remember that it is at this time you may move and return to the flight chair behind you,¡± Roberts explained, ¡°That being said, your imperfection is pissing me off and we don¡¯t have all night, so, as you were!¡± With that, the entire cabin audibly broke their weak posture and returned to their seats.

    ¡°Alright then, if this is how recruits are treated, I think I will be leaving. Thanks for the quick demo proving that I should never have come,¡± came a voice from about halfway up the cabin. Jack froze. From the way they explained it, once you were this far, there was no going back.

    A black-haired man stood and looked around the cabin. ¡°There is no way that I am going to stay part of this group of losers.¡±

    As fast as a snake, the Drill Sergeant raised his hand while a yellow glow enveloped his arm. Several small cables wrapped in the same glow shot out from a bracer on his arm and looped themselves around the dissenting recruit¡¯s chair. He then made a fist, and the cables whipped out, grabbing the rising recruit, dragging him back to the chair, and restraining him.

    The more the recruit struggled, the tighter the cables became. Staring into the eyes of the former recruit in disgust, Roberts said in a voice loud enough for the room to hear, ¡°You will know this piece of shit as your first quitter, and to think, he didn¡¯t even make it off of Earth. Most of you realize just how stupid this move was. However, I highly doubt he thinks he has done any such thing. Do you?¡± he said, directing the last question at the recruit.

    Jack watched in fascinated horror, unable to look away. The Drill Sergeant walked slowly down the aisle like a predator closing in on captured prey.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this! This is against my rights as a citizen of Earth! You can¡¯t force me to go if I don¡¯t want to!¡±

    Motioning with his hand, another tendril of Light extended from Roberts, looping around the seat, and eventually the recruit¡¯s head. Forcing its way across his mouth, the restraint formed into a gag.

    ¡°You are the most worthless sack of alien food on this vessel. You do not deserve to be in the presence of these fine young men and women. The fact that you would so easily swear not one, but three oaths and immediately turn tail speaks volumes about who you are. The most wonderful part is that you do not yet realize that you won¡¯t return to your precious home. Instead, you will sort through the crap of each of your betters on this ship. How does that sound?¡±

    Robert¡¯s hand flashed yellow, and the gag fell away, allowing the recruit to speak. ¡°You bastard! I¡¯ll kill you! I¡¯ll have you killed! My father¡­¡±

    ¡°Your father what?¡± Roberts said, cutting the boy off. ¡°Will save you from sifting crap? No, he won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know who he is,¡± said the recruit in a panic.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who he is. He is on Earth. That fact alone makes me, and better yet, you¡ªuntouchable.¡± Another flash and the gag slid back over his mouth.

    Jack was in complete and utter shock. While he was sure that Roberts would not allow the recruit to leave, he was unsure of the methods that would be used. Stopping the man had taken no effort at all. Both Dave and Alec were tapping on his arm and whispering in panicked tones to one another.

    ¡°Holy crap, man, did you see that?¡± Alec said excitedly.

    ¡°What the hell did we just see?¡±

    ¡°Jack, we are going to be able to¡­¡±

    ¡°I mean, it was a rope of light¡­¡±

    ¡°I wonder what else¡­.¡±

    ¡°I bet mine is going to be like¡­.¡±

    ¡°I knew they were hiding something¡­¡±

    What exactly was it they had just witnessed? It appeared that the powerful Drill Sergeant had telekinesis, like a character from a storybook. The way the Light obeyed him seemed almost like it was part of him.

    Ignoring the two men, Jack looked over at the last two people in his row. Nessa stared at the offending man with daggers in her eyes, as if his cowardice were a somehow personal affront to her. Maybe it was. Should he be feeling more animosity towards the quitter? Warren, on the other hand, was absolutely enthralled as he stared unblinkingly at Roberts, the desire to see another show of power plain on his face.

    Not wanting to allow the two next to him to cause issues, Jack elbowed them both gently. ¡°Guys, we don¡¯t want to be more examples, ok?¡± he cautioned, bringing them back to reality and effectively silencing them. They now knew that if Roberts wanted, he could have held each one of them without as much as a breaking a sweat.

    Turning to face the remaining soldiers, Roberts spoke to them with what sounded like genuine joy.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Well, boys and girls, I guess that leads me to our next topic. Before I go on, what you just witnessed was Light Manipulation Technology, or Li-Tech for short. You will learn to master this art; you will learn it or you will probably die. I don¡¯t say that to be cruel. I say it because it is the truth. Li-Tech is the core of how the AHF operates. It is our single greatest discovery. It is what allows our republic to protect itself. You all will learn to use it, and bond with it. Each of you will have different strengths and weaknesses and will be as unique as every human being in this universe. This is the first military organization in human history that prides itself on each member being different. There are classifications, of course. For example, I am what is known as a Binder. I cannot work with weapons easily. In fact, it takes everything I have to wield something that¡¯s not designed for multiple corps. I can, however, control a massive number of hard light ropes to control the field. Don¡¯t take any ability lightly. Some can do some pretty nasty stuff with abilities that may appear harmless. I hope to foster respect for each of them in you all.¡±

    The display left most, if not all, of the recruits in a state of awe, the power shown appearing to be more akin to magic than technology. For his part, Jack was afraid. Thoughts of what dangers had prompted humanity to craft a near fantastical weapon terrified him. After all, if humanity needed to seize light itself to survive, what was out there?

    Jack felt these things, but one emotion dwarfed the others entirely. He felt betrayed. If abilities and technology like this were within human grasp, why had Earth been left out of the loop? The planet was near death. Surely, they had tech capable of healing the scars that had been ripped in its surface. It angered him that people he knew and loved would never leave because of something as foolish as secrecy.

    ¡°How can we be expected to swallow this?¡± Alec gritted his teeth, evidently feeling much like Jack on the subject. ¡°How long have they left Earth in the dark?¡±

    ¡°Since we began to colonize, I would guess,¡± Warren said to him in a soft voice. ¡°I mean, look at it. If Li-Tech is at the heart of what we are, then there is no way that we could have colonized without it.¡±

    ¡°I guess my question is, what are they still hiding?¡± Alec asked peevishly.

    ¡°Are you dumb?¡± Nessa shot. ¡°The damned tech, obviously. Now shut up.¡±

    At the front of the cabin, the Drill Sergeant raised a hand to his chest and tapped his rank insignia. Parts of the man¡¯s body shimmered like a mirage on a hot road. Reaching over to the other recruits in his row, Jack tapped on their arms, pulling them from their conversation.

    ¡°Hey, um¡­ are you guys seeing this?¡± Jack said as he motioned to Roberts.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Dave whispered back, looking in the sergeant¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Him,¡± he pointed.

    The Drill Sergeant¡¯s body continued to change, the image of his body melting away. As the disguise fell away, the recruits were given their first true glimpse of their teacher.

    The hat and uniform hadn¡¯t changed at all. Both items were as vital to the man¡¯s identity as his own name. The uniform and rank spoke of dedication to his craft, and the hat signified his willingness to teach it to the new generation of soldiers. The falling illusion revealed a metal frame around his right eye and a thin silver wire embedded in his skin and ending inside the ear. A dark yellow light projected from the frame to cover his eye, almost like he was wearing half of a pair of glasses. While unable to see the entirety of his arm, the left hand was dark gray and gave off the same dark yellow light at each of the joints.

    ¡°When I lost my arm in battle some years ago, the AHF and their leaders determined it would make me a better fighter to replace that arm. The eye? Well, let¡¯s be frank. In a universe where being connected to your tech is as important as your rifle, it is not uncommon to have a computer built into your body,¡± he said, addressing the most visible changes on his body first. ¡°This is the real-world application of the third document you signed inside that building. Your pathetic human bodies won¡¯t quite hold up to the rigors of battle out there and will need to be made better.¡±

    Looking around the room, Roberts chuckled to himself. The looks they gave him were the same with every round of recruits he taught.

    ¡°By the time the AHF is done, you¡¯ll look back at this moment and wonder why you ever worried about what they would do to you. Recruits, I know there are a few of you that still believe that God will come down and smite you for modifying the perfect image that He created. I am here to tell you that is stardust. I have had this arm for over thirty years and not once has any deity of any pantheon even sent me a stars-cursed memo to say cut it out. This arm is stronger, it is faster, and it can act as a conduit for my power.¡±

    ¡°Recruits, what I am saying to you is this: treat the AHF as if they were your mama. If your mama says it is time to replace those useless human legs, then you will jump up and ask them where to report. I will say this now. Those that refuse the ¡®necessary¡¯ procedures will be removed from both combat and potential rank gain. I can forge you into something greater than you are now, but the tech will make you better than you could ever be on your own. Given enough time and training, I might even find one of you that can use your head for more than a hat rack.¡±

    Silence fell for a moment before chatter broke out among the recruits, each of them voicing their opinions to his or her immediate neighbor.

    ¡°OOOH-WEEE, I hope they give me something good because that stuff is sweet. Man, the sky is the limit here,¡± said Dave, obviously excited at the idea.

    ¡°Look, man, this is terrifying. It nearly crosses that line that separates us from the machine,¡± Alec said, looking both ways down the row. ¡°But if it will keep us alive when we should have died, that is a win, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Alec. It¡¯s my body, man. I don¡¯t want to become some crazy science experiment,¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°Neither do we, Sherlock,¡± Dave said, ¡°but if worse comes to worst, I want them to save me regardless of the consequences.¡±

    ¡°SILENCE!¡± Drill Sergeant Roberts called across the cabin, ¡°Now that you have a relatively decent understanding of our relationship, you need to know that I will do everything in my power to make you into soldiers. It is my job to grind away the stupidity and fill your useless skulls with something resembling intelligence. I will break you in both body and mind. Recruits, if you do not hate me over the course of the next several months, it will force me to believe there is something fundamentally wrong with you. That being said, each of you has wonderful potential to become the best target on the damned battlefield.¡±

    ¡°With those slight issues out of the way, how about we launch this bucket and make our way to the ship? I, for one, am ready to get off this godforsaken rock. Are you ready to get the hell off of this planet?¡± Roberts yelled. This time, he got what he was looking for from each voice in the cabin. It was not perfect, and in time the recruits would learn to call out answers as he expected, but it was a start.

    For the first night in the military, however, they did ok. It was definitely not at a level of professionalism that could be called acceptable, but that would come in time. For now, they were each raw to the stresses of military life. A few would have some semblance of military training from a life best forgotten, and he and his partner would mold the rest into true soldiers.

    And if they could not¡­ they would learn just how ruthless a place the universe could be.

 Wanderer - Chapter 43

    A bullet in the head after the fall.

    I was already dead when Earth fell. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t the first time and wouldn¡¯t be the last. When you¡¯ve died as often as I have, little things like bullets don¡¯t stop you for long. Blackbeard once gutted me like a fish and threw me overboard for daring to suggest that we shouldn¡¯t steal a shipment of food destined for an orphanage. If waking up on the bottom of the ocean isn''t a clear sign from your boss telling you to go fuck yourself, I don¡¯t know what is.

    I guess I should introduce myself. I am old, ancient even, and I¡¯ve seen the rise and fall of all human civilizations. When I was young, sometime around 115,000 years ago, I did something I shouldn¡¯t have and a weird glowing guy told me I would wander the Earth forever.

    We barely had anything resembling spoken word at the time, but it went something like this:

    ¡°You there! Dear god man, don¡¯t you know how to bathe?¡±

    ¡°Ugh?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, well, I want you to know that I saw what you did there and am very displeased.¡±

    ¡°Ugh.¡± I replied, pointing to my big stick.

    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s so annoying when they¡¯re not developed enough to respond. I need to talk to the language department about this one. Luci, make a note.¡±

    I don¡¯t know what he was thinking, turning up right outside my cave, but I was not having it. In what was possibly the stupidest decision of my short life, I threw a rock at him.

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? You¡¯ve lost the hair, you¡¯re standing on your back feet. What more could a monkey want? Shall I fetch the bananas?¡± The glowing guy said, rubbing his forehead in pain.

    I was very upset so, naturally, I threw another rock.

    I look back on that day and realize how foolish I was for throwing something at what was clearly a god. I chalk it up to having no understanding of modern language¡­ or what a god was. Sadly, the other man had little patience for a cave-dweller and thought I needed to be taught a lesson. Next thing I know, he¡¯s shouting something I still don¡¯t understand, and a really hot rock smacks me in the forehead.

    I woke up three days later with the worst hangover in human history. And trust me, I¡¯ve seen all of human history. So before you bring up that one time in college, let me assure you, this was worse.

    But this journal is not about hangovers or the rise and fall of civilization through the ages. I¡¯m writing to keep an accurate record of what happened when Earth fell, and t left the planet in disorganized chaos.

    Well, dear reader, I must tell you that you¡¯ll be as sorely dissatisfied with me as the mugger that shot me on a Monday morning and left me in an alley with a bullet in my forehead. I truly hoped this would be the last time I died, but, as you¡¯ve no doubt figured out by now, I survived¡­

    Again.

    When I stood from the pile of garbage my attacker left me in, I realized several things. One, my wallet was gone. Two, my clothes were gone. And three, New York was much quieter than I¡¯d heard in nearly eighteen hundred years.

    Not wanting to be arrested for indecent exposure, I wrapped a trash bag around myself and quietly tiptoed my way into the street. I¡¯d been through enough revolutions and massacres to know something. If the invaders were still here, they would have no qualms killing a man dressed in garbage. Because if I¡¯ve learned anything, it¡¯s that people suck.

    No, not sometimes, all the bloody time. They walk into your cave like they own the place and throw a really hot rock at your forehead. Then, walk out laughing like it was the best joke they¡¯d ever heard.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    I¡¯m not bitter.

    Seeing the street drew me out of my spiral and sobered me up faster than anything else. In a word, it was chaos. Cars were smashed. Streets shattered. Buildings that stood for hundreds of years were nothing but piles of broken concrete. Who could do such a thing? Why would they do it? In my lifetime, only a few nations would dare attack an urban area like this, and with only one worldwide nation, what was the point?

    A light summer breeze carried a scent I hoped I would never have to experience again. It always meant bad things were happening. It was the acrid scent of burned bodies.

    Was it the aggressor? No. Attackers would leave the dead to crush the hope of anyone that survived. The mental trauma of seeing a friend lying in the street would do more to crush what little resistance remained than anything else.

    That meant there were survivors.

    Deciding my best move would be to find some sort of companion, I went against my instincts and followed my nose to the mass grave.

    ~~**~~

    The pungent scent of death led me to where all dreams truly die: Times Square.

    Someone had gathered the dead into a pile and set them on fire. Looking back, I can say for certain that I would¡¯ve done something similar. In a concrete wasteland like New York City, it would have been beyond impossible to dig graves for that many people.

    Several survivors stood nearby, staring at the flame like it was a great bonfire and this was a county festival. Granted, with the government ban on burning wood, none of these people would¡¯ve ever seen such a fire, but the image sparked a memory all the same. It¡¯s a shame trees have become so rare, children should be able to light things on fire for fun.

    ¡°Hi,¡± I said, walking up and straightening my trash bag, ¡°I can¡¯t begin to describe how glad I am to have found other survivors.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± a man said with a smile that quickly faded once he got a good look at me. ¡°Um, you seem to have misplaced your pants.¡±

    Laughing nervously, I spat out the most believable lie I could manage. ¡°Well, you know how it is when you get kicked out of the house for eating crackers in bed. She didn¡¯t even let me grab my clothes.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve walked around in a bag for three days?¡± he asked, scratching his face with a three-fingered hand.

    Three days was about right for being shot in the head, especially considering how long it takes for the power that keeps me alive to push out a bullet. The problem was that if I started telling this man that I¡¯d been killed and came back to life, he would either see me as his Lord and Savior or kill me.

    Again.

    ¡°Well, yeah, what was I supposed to do? Waltz into someone¡¯s home and take what I want? That¡¯s a little barbaric, don¡¯t you think?¡± I chuckled. It wasn¡¯t too often a caveman could call someone else ¡®barbaric.¡¯

    ¡°Everyone is dead. We¡¯ve only found a handful of survivors. Those things¡­ they didn¡¯t leave us much, but we¡¯ve found some food and clean clothes. We even have a small camp set up in Central Park if you would like to join us.¡± The apparent leader stuck out his hand in friendship, ignoring my barb.

    Shaking the offered hand, I felt bad. This man was trying to survive, and I was being a jerk. Ok, I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m often a jerk, but that¡¯s not the point. ¡°So, why the big fire?¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± he sighed, ¡°I¡¯ve read enough history books to know that you have to dispose of bodies before they spread disease. I¡¯d bring them to a morgue and cremate them, but unfortunately, there are just too many for that.¡±

    ¡°So you took the next most logical step and set a huge pile of folks on fire,¡± I said, watching a pair of survivors drag another body out of a nearby building and add it to the pyre.

    Calling it a body was a stretch. There was hardly anything left. Both legs were missing, and the hands were torn and bloody. Combined with the bloat of a three-day-old corpse, it was hard to recognize it as human.

    ¡°Someone had to step up. As much as I would like to be in my apartment hiding and waiting for the end, we have to survive. We have to make it until the Republic realizes there are people here and comes back to save us.¡±

    ¡°The soldiers were here?¡± I was stunned. The United Human Republic had never deployed Advanced Human Forces personnel to the surface of Earth for anything other than recruitment.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t see them? Oh, you missed out. They came in swingin¡¯. They just appeared out of thin air and started shooting. I saw this one guy jump from the roof of the Flat Iron with a big red sword made of Light and cut an alien in half! It was incredible!¡± The survivor demonstrated the jump by leaping into the air and landing in a superhero pose. When he saw the look of disbelief on my face, he stood up and pointed toward the park. ¡°Anyway. We¡¯re wrapping up for the day if you want to tag along back to our camp. We have fresh supplies in the park. At the very least, you might find a set of clothes that aren¡¯t¡­ plastic.¡±

    I didn¡¯t really want to throw in my lot with a group I¡¯d only just met, but like that one time in Mesopotamia, it was time to carve the wheel or leave the block.

    Stupid desert people and their hypocrisy. I showed them how to make a wheel and they threw me out on the accusation of sorcery. If that weren¡¯t enough, the bastards started using the damned things to conquer the world. I was only trying to impress Nanna. It¡¯s not my fault old Gilgamesh got upset that I was courting his sister.

    With no good options left on the table, I followed the strange man to his camp in the park.

 Wanderer - Chapter 44

    Three days and a bullet wound after the fall.

    I followed my nameless savior along an endless number of streets and alleyways. This wasn¡¯t my first time in New York, so I knew without a doubt that he was not, in fact, taking me to Central Park. I wasn¡¯t exactly worried. My unfortunate condition meant that it really didn¡¯t matter where he took me, I¡¯d be fine in even the worst conditions. But¡­ I also didn¡¯t want to end up as the regenerating sex doll in some Mad Max style apocalypse.

    ¡°We seem to be taking an oddly long time to get to Central Park. Are you sure you know where you¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry buddy, but after the attacks, a whole bunch of streets were completely blocked. There¡¯s no such thing as following a road anymore,¡± my guide said.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just¡­ you know¡­ climb over the rubble?¡±

    ¡°We tried, and a few of us got crushed when it collapsed. Now, we just take the long way.¡±

    Oh, yeah¡­ Humans break. I forget that sometimes.

    We finally broke through the concrete jungle and laid eyes on mankind¡¯s last bastion of nature. It wasn¡¯t close to the grandeur of the old days, but enough green remained to give testament to the skill of the park¡¯s gardeners. But even though plants still lived there, the human element had long since taken its toll on this place. The once tall, powerful trees had become shadows of themselves. The lake, a once beautiful body of water hidden in the center of the most famous metropolitan in the United States, was a pit of garbage and ruin. Its waters were more like a toxic swamp than a lake, and the chances of safely drinking its waters were easily non-existent.

    It was almost like mankind enjoyed wallowing in its own filth.

    The survivors¡¯ camp was along that desolate coastline. Tents made of whatever material they could find dotted the ground. In the center, something resembling a headquarters was bustling with people going about duties they hadn¡¯t yet mastered.

    ¡°Yes, because if the end of the world wasn¡¯t enough, we needed to add a shantytown to the survival game,¡± I said, trying to lighten the depressing view in front of me.

    ¡°Well, yeah, what did you expect? All the people in the buildings are dead. Why wouldn¡¯t we pick the one place without bodies?¡±

    ¡°Because a roof is a terrible thing to waste?¡±

    ¡°Well then, you get out there and find us a place to live without piles of dead bodies littering the ground. I¡¯ll wait,¡± he said, handing me a sausage and bottled water. ¡°It¡¯s only been a few days, but we¡¯ve already lost power, water, hell¡­ even the sewage stopped working.¡±

    Apparently, all those union workers claiming that the great NYC would shut down without them were right. Who knew?

    ¡°You don¡¯t have anyone that could figure it out? It can¡¯t be that difficult.¡± I said, trying not to choke on the food. How the hell could someone ruin sausage that badly? I mean, really, you take the meat, grill the meat until it¡¯s barely squishy, stop cooking the meat. It¡¯s not that hard. This piece of shoe leather was an affront to every butcher that¡¯s ever lived. Yeah¡­ I¡¯m judging the free food. What? You think it¡¯s bad form to point out when a cook reduces something amazing into a dried-out monkey penis? I don¡¯t.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t been able to find any survivors with that skill set¡­ unless?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± I said. ¡°If you haven¡¯t noticed, I¡¯m standing here in a trash bag with nothing to my name but a severely overcooked sausage.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, Johnny does his best.¡±

    There I go again, pissing off people within minutes of meeting them. Will I ever learn to just keep my mouth shut? Probably not.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying that Johnny makes bad sausage, only that it takes a bit more chewing to make it to that nice firm center,¡± I said.

    If the man caught the sarcasm, he didn¡¯t react to it. Something told me the joke went over his head. Eh, live and let live, I guess. The guide eventually left me alone with my thoughts. Apparently, spending an evening with a man dressed in a trash bag wasn¡¯t something he enjoyed. I was grateful he did, but considering he didn¡¯t come back with pants, I was suspicious.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Nobody truly cared enough about people to pick them up off the street without at least one ulterior motive. That was true in Rome, and it¡¯s true today. I still remember when Julius decided I was too beautiful to ignore and convinced me to dress as a woman for years. Not that Servilia isn¡¯t a perfectly lovely name, but it¡¯s hard to come up with children when you don¡¯t have the plumbing. I still shudder when I think of the itchy pillow I had to wear under my toga while we were trying to kidnap Brutus. We had options that day, but Julius said he looked like the type of kid we could trust. When I think about it, I really shouldn¡¯t have trusted Caesar. He wore entirely too much makeup.

    After my meal of leather and chemical water, I walked around the camp and did the one thing I truly mastered in my lifetime¡ªI listened. Three days ago, a midnight black rift opened in the sky and dumped wave after wave of enemy ships onto our world. Aliens with no true definable properties¡ªapparently everyone saw something different¡ªinvaded our world and tore apart what few defenses we had. For every person they killed, they captured two more. In the blink of an eye, they¡¯d enslaved two-thirds of our population, and left the few that remained barely clinging to life.

    The UHR was always at war and believed that anonymity was the key to Earth¡¯s continued existence. Right now, I truly wish I could force the senate to see this. Maybe then they would admit that isolation was not the key to survival. And this wasn¡¯t survival. It was a faltering heartbeat, weakened by hubris, fed by the clogged arteries of ignorance and the decayed veins of complacency. Sure, the military eventually showed up to defend their ancestral homeland, but by that time, they had taken the kidnapped people to some unknown location we would probably never find.

    ¡°And where were you, Stranger?¡± The undisputed leader of the survivors, Chuck, said when he caught me listening in on conversations that were not my own.

    ¡°I uh¡­ I don¡¯t remember much. I remember trying to get out of my girlfriend''s apartment when I saw one of those things turn the corner. If the building hadn¡¯t collapsed from the artillery fire, I would be one of the Taken.¡±

    Had I just come up with random bullshit on the spot? Yes. Was it necessary? I thought so. I mean seriously, would you believe me if I told you I was dead when the world ended? Or that I¡¯d hidden under Madame de Popadour¡¯s dress long enough to give her the chance of a lifetime with King Louis? Or that I taught Babe Ruth to swing by teaching him caveman tactics¡ªwhich was a substantial improvement to the gave overall¡ªand I didn¡¯t even ask for credit? No. No, you wouldn¡¯t.

    The much safer option was to lie about my whereabouts and mortality status. If they ever asked how I managed to live through a building collapse, I would make something else up.

    ¡°How the hell did you survive that?¡±

    Fuck.

    ¡°Ah¡­ I¡¯m not sure to tell you the truth. I hit my head when it started, and I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was laying in rubble and could just barely make out the daylight.¡±

    And saved.

    Dodged that bullet. Sort of.

    ¡°You dug your own way out of the building? How did you not ruin your hands?¡±

    God damned asshole. Would you just accept the lie for what it is and leave it alone? If I had my club¡­

    ¡°I tore up some cloth I found to make gloves. I got away Scot free, so I guess it worked.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s some incredible luck you have. Do you have a name, or should we just call you Lucky?¡±

    And here we go: the number one issue I have with living in a society that cares about names and titles. In the old days, we could go weeks without even knowing what color eyes another caveman had. (Spoilers, they were brown. Always brown.) Today, everyone wanted your name, your picture, all the social media you could imagine, and any private information you wanted to keep secret. I hate it here.

    ¡°Vandre,¡± I said, picking a word from a long dead language, hoping nobody here was a scholar.

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Vandre. We are trying to rebuild, but it isn¡¯t easy. Honestly, we could use your help getting back on our feet.¡± Chuck said, shaking my hand and offering me another serving of burned sausage, ¡°Just¡­ consider it please. Even if all you can do is search buildings for survivors and help us get rid of the bodies, it¡¯s still help.¡±

    Sigh¡­ why does this always happen?

    Humanity thinks it¡¯s on the brink of collapse so they rope in everyone they can find under the guise of stopping more things from falling apart, and yeah, sometimes it works out, but most of the time, civilization ends up like the Akkadians.

    Despite their inability to conjure water from thin air, their contributions enabled the development of art, literature, science, agriculture and religion. They grew even stronger when I took the throne as the magnificent Naram-Sin, growing our power more than anyone thought possible. Hell, we even came up with the first postal system. And before someone says it again, I didn¡¯t cause the fall of Akkad. Climate change killed that empire. Using the seal of a god as a return address had nothing to do with it. If the gods didn¡¯t like kings claiming divinity, then why did they give us such glorious looks? Again; climate change, not the curse of Agade. That piece of literature has caused me more trouble than it¡¯s worth.

    ¡°Any chance I can get some clothes, or should I just keep rocking the trash bag?¡± I asked, deflecting the question to something I actually cared about.

    ¡°Not down here, you can¡¯t. If you find something that fits while scavenging, you can have it. All the excess stock we find ends up as medical supplies and extra clothes for the elderly. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ I have to wear the trash bag for at least one whole night? Next, you¡¯re going to tell me that blankets are in the same situation.¡±

    His blank stare confirmed it. I would indeed play the role of graverobber tomorrow. If only because I didn¡¯t want to continue walking around without pants.

 Wanderer - Chapter 45

    Four days and a trash bag after the fall.

    I woke in a frenzy. My hands and feet were bound, my body restrained, and they¡¯d wrapped my head to block out the light.

    Why the hell do I trust people?

    ¡°Let me out, you bastards!¡± I yelled, tearing at the cloth. Luckily, their incompetence meant they hadn¡¯t tied rope around the impromptu bag, allowing me to claw my way into the sweet air of freedom, only to realize I was still in the camp with my tent wrapped around me. That was a great way to endear myself to the survivors¡­

    ¡°Morning Vandre,¡± Chuck said, laughing as he handed me a bowl of what might have been oatmeal. ¡°You, uh¡­ You kinda tore apart your tent while you slept. Oh, and the screaming didn¡¯t help.¡±

    Dammit. Maybe that was just when I stopped remembering the nightmares. Though, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll ever forget those prismatic eyes staring into my soul and judging me unworthy of death.

    ¡°Yes¡­ it seems I did. I was testing your camp¡¯s ability to deal with a kidnapping, and I must say that you all failed.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Well, eat fast. The scavenger group heads out in a few minutes, and please grab your trash bag¡­ you lost it in the ¡®demonstration.¡¯¡±

    Laying in the twisted jumble of my tent were the remnants of my garment. Not only had I embarrassed myself, I¡¯d put on a show for all around me to see.

    Sometimes I wish humanity would go back to the no pants policy. I miss our aversion to clothes; it was so much easier then. Back in the early days, the most my brothers and I would wrap ourselves in was the skin of whatever we killed. It wasn¡¯t much, and that was the best part. Truth be told, there is no better feeling than a cool breeze on your backside while watching the morning sunrise. Back then, the world was your oyster. The simple days were the best days.

    Swallowing the food quickly as I could, I grabbed my trash bag and joined the group of scavengers. There was no chance I would pass that up, especially when there was the possibility of fresh food and comfortable clothes. Considering the last time I had good food in this city, perhaps stealing it from the dead wouldn¡¯t leave the stain on my soul I thought it would.

    ~~**~~

    In the early twentieth century, I broke into The Ritz-Carlton to steal anything that wasn¡¯t nailed down. It took significant effort to get in, but a waiter''s uniform and the proper attitude will get you far in life. Unfortunately, not even serving food for a living promised a full belly during the Depression. In America, only dreams were free. Everything else came at a cost so high

    I remember it like it was yesterday. A silver-plated cart laden with food, so rich it would make a poor man cry, rolled toward the kitchen doors with the slow movement of a person who hadn¡¯t eaten in days. The scene was ironic at best, tortuous at worst.

    ¡°I can take that,¡± I called, catching the attention of the waiter with a smile and a pat on the back. ¡°Which room?¡±

    ¡°Penthouse. Rockafeller suite,¡± he said, grateful for the relief of duty. ¡°Are you sure? The man is nice, but he tips like shit.¡±

    ¡°You need the break. Here, the mailman accidentally gave us an extra orange stamp this week. Go get yourself a meal, I¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    ¡°A whole dollar? Buddy, are you sure? This could feed my family for days. I¡­ I can¡¯t take this.¡±

    In response, I simply grabbed the handle of the cart and started toward the customer¡¯s room. He wouldn¡¯t really deny the voucher. Very few could afford that luxury. Nobody except the rich.

    I lifted the silver cover off the plate and my mouth watered at the sight laid out before me. Several racks of lamb glistened in the light, steaming now that the cool New York City air could reach them. I knew I shouldn¡¯t, but I was so hungry it was physically impossible to ignore. Foregoing the knife and fork, I lifted the entire rack to my lips and tore into the perfectly prepared meat. It was so tender I could have easily eaten the entire dish without my teeth, but I was in a hurry and had little time to savor the meal.

    Before long, the bones were clean, and I was full for the first time in days. Part of me, a small part, wanted to feel bad for the poor soul I¡¯d just stolen food from, but I didn¡¯t and instead, shoved the part of my brain labeled ''Selfishness'' into a closet and locked it up.

    I had to deliver something. If I didn¡¯t, the server from the kitchen was likely to get in more trouble than necessary. I cast my eyes up and down the hallway before placing the silver lid back over the bones of a meal and checked the delivery card.

    ¡®John D. Rockefeller ¨C Penthouse.¡¯

    I grinned. There was no better person to steal a meal from in all of New York.

    ~~**~~

    There¡¯s something strangely satisfying about searching another person¡¯s home and looting everything you can. It¡¯s even better when the person is already dead. At least then you know there is no chance of getting hit with a stick while neck deep in their refrigerator.

    It took nine apartments before I found clothes that fit. , I saw the previous resident strewn across the floor like a Jackson Pollock painting. All I wanted to do was close the door and continue down the hall, but just before I did, I noticed the corpse was roughly my size. Unwilling to waste the opportunity, I went inside and made my way to a closet in the bedroom.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Clothing filled it from floor to ceiling, and every bit was my size. Unfortunately, the recently deceased owner of the clothing had a very specific taste. While I didn¡¯t care about the clothing I wore, there was a chance someone in the camp did. They were barely a step up from my trash bag, but they would work in a pinch. Luckily, there was a pink floral sundress so comfortable it would be impossible to acknowledge anyone that had an issue with me. At least it gave me a moment to relive my Greek days.

    Why the fashion designers of the world think all humans fit into small little boxes they come up with, I¡¯ll never know. At least now that they were dead, there was no chance for them to screw with the system again.

    ¡°What the hell is that?¡± My partner asked, freezing in the doorway while I tightened a leather harness I found in a shoebox behind the clothes.

    ¡°It helps keep the dress on. Between this and my emergency weapon, I think I¡¯ll be alright,¡± I replied, holding up a bright red thong.

    ¡°And how is that going to help you?¡±

    ¡°Have you heard the myth of David and Goliath?¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a story about some kid throwing a rock and hitting some big asshole between the eyes. Apparently, he was so lucky he killed the guy with a single rock,¡± I said, tying the thong around my arm like a bandana.

    ¡°Can you help me with this stuff?¡± he asked, pointing to the half-eaten body.

    Sighing dejectedly, I helped the other scavenger carry what was left of the person outside and tossed it onto the pyre. As I watched the body burn, I tried to remember a time in my history when I¡¯d seen more death and destruction. The options were few and far between.

    ¡°Come on Vandre, we need to find more rations.¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to turn away from the fire. I didn¡¯t want these people to be forgotten by the flames. It wasn¡¯t right; it wasn¡¯t fair, but, if I¡¯ve learned anything in my very long life, it¡¯s that people die and get forgotten.

    Turning, I blinked away the tears that came any time I thought about the past. If there was only one thing I could do for these people, I could remember them. It was the only thing my longevity was good for.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, there is no reason for us to keep robbing these apartments if there is a grocery store right around the corner,¡± I said, shifting the crate of supplies to my other shoulder.

    It was a valid argument. We were in one of the largest cities in the world, yet instead of looting stores, we were taking the time to clean out random pantries. While I personally couldn¡¯t give a damn where we found the things we took, it would be so much simpler to get what we needed from a one stop shop.

    ¡°Because the accountants are in those. Getting into one of the grocery stores would be the same as signing your own death certificate,¡± someone said from the rear of the formation.

    ¡°And they are?¡±

    ¡°A gang that rose after the fall and took over everything. They are¡ªthey were¡ªaccountants. They had no purpose after society collapsed, so they decided to rebuild it the way they saw fit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only been four days. How hard is it to not to be an asshole?¡± I asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°Turns out, it¡¯s pretty hard. But we can¡¯t do anything about it. They have weapons and gear, while we have little more than the clothes on our backs. That doesn¡¯t stop them from demanding a portion of everything we find, but I honestly doubt we will ever be able to fight them.¡±

    ¡°So we can¡¯t just find a grocery store they haven¡¯t knocked over yet?¡± I asked. ¡°We could even clean out various restaurants if we wanted.¡±

    It seemed so obvious, going to places that already had food to steal would be so much easier, and we would be far less likely to get random bullshit that nobody ate.

    ¡°There are secondary advantages to cleaning out the buildings. Clothes, for one, and stopping the potential spread of disease for another,¡± the same voice replied from the back.

    If we let the bodies rot, there would eventually be some kind of airborne pathogen that would wipe out what little remained of our people. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but at least it served a purpose. The group explained the only two ways a person could get food from the Accountants. The first was to surrender at the door and hope you were sexy enough for ¡°the toll¡±. While it wasn¡¯t great, nor would an entire building of people running a train on you be comfortable, it was by far the safest way to survive.

    The second was much less comfortable, and worse. If they caught you sneaking into the compound, they would assume you wanted to be there. And if you wanted to be there, you needed to be branded with the boss¡¯s initials. Sadly, a brand meant that no matter where you went, people would know what you were and who you belonged to. It was not a life worth living.

    The scavengers kept talking, but I was far too deep into my own memories to care about what they said. If they even managed to get non-committal grunts out of me, I would be surprised. No, I was too busy remembering the centuries past to be an active participant in their conversation. And sadly, humanity¡¯s situation was not new, but one that repeated itself time and time again.

    Though, in the past, humanity never had to rebuild because of an alien attack. But there was that one time when they threw a meteor at the planet and caused it to rain for about a month. While it¡¯s hard to say that we truly had to rebuild, especially since there wasn¡¯t much to destroy in the first place, we did have to start over in a lot of ways.

    , or that he was real in the first place. People will believe anything you tell them a deity said it. Had I known it would cause so much hate and destruction, I probably wouldn¡¯t have made up the stories. In my defense, who would have thought telling those idiots to love each other would mean they killed everyone that didn¡¯t believe the same thing? The irony of a church going to war one hundred and thirty-three times, then trying to convince the defender you did it out of love, is just fantastic. Their true motivation¡ªregardless of what they would have you believe¡ªwas greed. And I, for one, knew all about greed. I¡¯ve watched the cycle of rise and fall more times than some believe possible. I¡¯ve given birth to religion and sired kings. I¡¯ve burned it all down because of self-loathing, and watched it come back on its own out of spite. Hell of a tool, spite. If these people, these ¡®survivors¡¯ could use it properly, they might reclaim the planet and bring humanity back from the brink of extinction.

    Could I rebuild again, save them from themselves? Could I create the utopia that I¡¯ve tried to cultivate ever since I had my first name? Sure, but they didn¡¯t deserve to be saved, no human did. They¡¯d killed their planet more times than I can count, and each time they¡¯ve done it with a smile. Granted, it¡¯s always a gold-toothed smile.

    Besides, utopias are notoriously difficult to maintain. I would know, I almost had it once. Back before the Dynastic period, I¡¯d created a culture that didn¡¯t believe in money or personal power. The people truly believed the betterment of one meant the betterment of all. There were no rich, there were no poor. People didn¡¯t stop innovating. Instead, they were happy when a neighbor discovered something about the world that was previously unknown. But Egypt was so long ago, and everything had gone so poorly. It¡¯s no wonder the name Set became synonymous with evil.

    I¡¯ve never helped without eventually being disappointed in humanity. Mankind just didn¡¯t have it in them to be decent people. I still stand by the belief that Egypt wasn¡¯t my fault. Who could have predicted that calling myself a god made flesh would create such a long line of assholes? When Narmer dethroned me and claimed to be a god as well¡­ that¡¯s when everything went to shit. Maybe it would be better if I just walked away and let the world burn. Maybe that was the lesson I was meant to learn so long ago.

 Wanderer - Chapter 46

    Four days and multiple apartments after the fall.

    We continued disturbing the restful slumber of the dead long into the afternoon. By the time we returned to camp and left the city behind, the sun was well into setting. It turns out that spending hours digging through the belongings of the dead was oddly therapeutic. I even managed to find a pair of black boots to go with my new clothes. It wasn¡¯t often you found a pair of comfortable boots for free. Unless you were looting them from a dead person¡¯s home.

    It was easy to see who they placed at the top of their new society, and who was at the bottom. No one would come out and say the scavengers were below cooks and builders, but the implication was clear.

    In the center of the camp, there was a rudimentary command tent with everything you could want to survive the end of the world. There was a table, chairs, radio, propane stove¡­

    Wait¡­

    Radio?

    It was nothing special. Clearly something from a child¡¯s science experiment, but it worked, and they were using it.

    ¡°If you are alive, if you are alone, come find us. We survived the attack. There aren¡¯t many of us, but our number grows every day. If you¡¯re on the planet and can hear this message, come to Central Park. We have food, clothing, and shelter. If you¡¯re willing to work, we are willing to share. If anyone on the Luna Base can hear this, humanity is not gone. We hope you survived the attacks. If you can get here, we will do what we can to survive together.¡±

    This was a nightmare. These boneheaded idiots couldn¡¯t be so stupid they¡¯d willingly announce their presence to anyone in range, could they? I honestly didn¡¯t know what to say. Didn¡¯t they realize that if they could find a radio, so could the bad guys? I mean, come on, is it that hard to recognize the inherent danger?

    They repeated the message.

    Apparently, it was that hard to see danger. This was more disappointing than watching my brother try to play with the ¡®nice doggy¡¯. I still think he got out of that one too easily. I mean, really, who plays with a wolf and doesn¡¯t get eaten?

    I honored him by spreading the legend of Romulus and Remus, but it''s an exaggeration to say we were raised by the she-wolf. When we were children, a massive mother wolf found our cave in the mountainside. She was in pain, and it was a kind of pain that only comes from losing something you loved very much. When she saw the four of us playing with the scraps of a meal, she walked right up to us and lay on her side. Right then, my brother inched his way closer until he could touch her face and handed her one of the broken bones we¡¯d been playing with.

    Instead of ripping his arm off, the she-wolf let out a small whimper and pushed her nose under his hand. Our other brother was terrified, but we were not. It was clear to the clan elders that she¡¯d lost her pups and they repeatedly suggested we kill her for the furs. But anyone that tried to take her away from us quickly found themselves missing the hand they raised.

    We spent every night curled up beside our surrogate mother, warmed by her fur and a softly glowing fire. When she died, our sister pointed to the stars and showed us how our mother wasn¡¯t gone, merely watching over us from the great beyond. Logically, I know it isn''t true. Logically, I know she was just a wolf. But in my heart, she will always watch over me.

    Looking at my dinner, I recognized the boxed macaroni we¡¯d found in nearly every home. Why was it that every single kitchen in America had this abomination? I mean seriously, powdered cheese with boxed pasta? The only fresh part of the meal is the half gallon of milk dumped on top to make the powder into liquid. But despite what I thought of America¡¯s most persistent dish, it was an easy and quick solution to feeding a large number of people in a short amount of time. And they even included little hot dogs so you could feel like you were five years old.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°I repeat, if you are a survivor and in New York City, come to city park. We have a camp near the old lake with food, water, and shelter. It¡¯s not glamorous, but it¡¯s something.¡±

    Oh joy, now the genius gave out our exact location. At least before, we had some protection due to the size of the park. But this? This was a way to get everyone in camp killed¡­ or worse. I¡¯ve said it before and I¡¯ll say it until the last star burns out: Human morality will get us all killed.

    And yes, I know I¡¯m contradicting myself. Sometimes you greedy, self-serving, stupid bastards can have a genuine selfless and moral thought. Don¡¯t look for it too often though, you¡¯ll go insane trying to find the good in everyone you meet. Trust me.

    Laying back, I gazed up at the hazy sky. This had once been my favorite pastime. I loved losing my problems in the vastness of space and knowing the wolf was looking back. Sadly, that was rarely possible now with all the pollutants in the air. Maybe a few decades without people would be good for the planet. But no, I had to stop them from getting themselves killed. The radio needed to be destroyed, but it needed to be done so that I avoided the blame.

    Climbing to my feet, I stumbled toward the operator like a man well into his drink. It was an act, but I was a former United States Senator, and I could lie better than most professionals. Was it dirty? Yes, but it had to be done. I couldn¡¯t have more blood on my hands. Stumbling, I tripped over a rope laying near the operator. To sell the fall, I flailed my arms and grabbed the radio before slamming it into the ground under me. A satisfying crunch filled the air moments before the camp erupted into chaos.

    ¡°What the actual fuck!¡± The operator screamed, holding a bleeding hand to his chest. I wasn¡¯t sure how I cut him, but apparently, I did.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Chuck said, stepping out of the command tent to survey the situation.

    ¡°This bastard broke our radio!¡±

    ¡°Do we have another one?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s not the point! That¡¯s how we reach out!¡±

    Dammit.

    There was no reason to think they didn¡¯t have a spare radio on hand. In my haste to stop the suicide call, I hadn¡¯t even considered that my efforts were for nothing.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡­ I¡¯m not well.¡± I lamely excused, getting to my feet and retreating as quickly as I could.

    Would they kick me out for this? Maybe. Was it worth it? If they survived¡­ Yes.

    ¡°What the fuck was that, Vandre?¡± Chuck shouted, walking over to my tent. ¡°I know you¡¯re not drunk because we don¡¯t have enough booze to get drunk. So, tell me this wasn¡¯t on purpose.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t on purpose,¡± I lied.

    They say the truth will set you free, but I¡¯ve found that a well-placed lie can set me free a whole lot faster than the truth.

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    Fuck.

    ¡°Look, Chuck, I won¡¯t say it was on purpose. In fact, I¡¯ll continue to say it was an accident. But you have to see how terrible this idea is.¡±

    ¡°What? No, I don¡¯t see how trying to find people that are lost, scared, and alone is a bad thing. Just yesterday, you were all three of those.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t admit that I was only one of those things without giving away more of myself than I was ready to divulge. Perhaps I could spin this so that I looked good.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying that we stop taking people in. What I¡¯m saying is that leading them directly to our camp is stupid. Especially since we know people are out there that would love to wear you like a hat.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Why wouldn¡¯t we want people to find us? Even if these unsavory types are out there, they¡¯re still human. They could easily join our cause¡­ most people just want a home. Don¡¯t you understand that?¡±

    Oh, I understood the desire to have a home. I understood it better than he could ever imagine. In fact, it was a little insulting that he thought I didn¡¯t have that desire deep in my chest. I just wanted my cave back. And my family.

    ¡°Civilizations have fallen because of poor security, hell Rome was sacked at least six times. People have died because leaders like you couldn¡¯t understand the need to keep a location secret. You¡¯re lucky I broke that radio. By accident. If I hadn¡¯t, it was only a matter of time before you and everyone else here was dead.¡± And I, of course, would be in an even worse predicament. But I couldn¡¯t say that¡­ they couldn¡¯t know.

    ¡°Agh!¡± Chuck shouted in frustration, storming back to the command tent. Before he was out of earshot, I heard the man asking the operator to get the radio working again.

    They refused to learn¡­ They refused to be helped. Maybe I should just leave? Maybe these people were not worth the help I could give. Maybe¡­ Maybe the earth would be better off without humans.

    No. I couldn¡¯t think like that. I promised myself that I would try to reintegrate with society again. It had been too long¡­ Last time I tried to help humanity; I was still President of the United States. And that ended with a bullet in the head¡­ It¡¯s almost funny how often I get shot there.

    Laying down on the twisted remains of my tent, I pulled the fabric over my body and tried to sleep. I hadn¡¯t fixed the problem, but perhaps I had bought one more night of life for the people in this camp.

 Wanderer - Chapter 47

    One week and several issues of morality after the fall.

    We didn¡¯t bother carrying food or water in our packs when scavenging. Why would we? It was much easier to take what we needed from the homes we were already looting. Anything we brought with us would only add to our burden and our exhaustion. Given the number of people our efforts supported, not being capable of carrying back enough food would mean someone went hungry.

    Food and water were necessary for humans. And while I don¡¯t always consider myself to be human, I knew what it was like to starve. All those years trapped in Ceasars tomb¡­ well, let¡¯s just say that immortality does not remove the need to eat. The history books rarely talk about the mistress, Servilia. Sometimes they mention she was the mother of Brutus and concubine of Julius. But nobody seems to care about what happened to her after the assassination. Why would they? She was only a mistress, right?

    Wrong. She wasn¡¯t she at all. I was Servilia, and I spent years pretending to be a woman, all so they would never find the great Julius Caesar to be anything but the image of perfection. Many believed Marcus was the bastard child of Julius, but that¡¯s not true either. Marcus was a boy we stole from his mother while claiming it was the will of the gods. Let me tell you The first time Julius turned his back, he found a dagger lodged in his spine and he made me disappear from the history books.

    How did he make me disappear? He put me in Julius¡¯ sarcophagus and waited for the screaming to stop. I didn¡¯t see the light of day again until a Visigoth warrior broke open the tomb in search of riches, three hundred and fifty years later.

    When you¡¯re hungry enough to eat your shoes, that¡¯s when you think it¡¯s all over, but I wasn¡¯t allowed to die. Every time Death would come to taking my soul, my skin would glow and would return to relative health. I swear, if I ever get the chance to kill God for what he did to me¡­ But that¡¯s neither here nor there.

    Earlier that week, our scouts located another building that promised to have a significant amount of food. Sadly, that also meant it had a significant number of former inhabitants. As one of the few that didn¡¯t choke around death, Chuck put me back on cleanup duty. Thanks, I love picking up half eaten, decomposing bodies and setting them on fire. No, really, I enjoy lifting bloated corpses and getting covered in flies. Asshole.

    ¡°Jim, we have a problem with our current system of government,¡± I said to my partner as we each grabbed a corpse''s arm and headed for the stairs.

    ¡°It¡¯s Ryan,¡± Jim said.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s Jim. We are working without a fairly placed democratic government. In times such as these, you need a strong, democratically elected leader to bring humanity back from the brink.¡±

    ¡°But we elected Chuck democratically, and my name is Ryan.¡±

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t vote for him. I didn¡¯t even get a vote.¡± I complained, ¡°Jim, I think they should give all newcomers a chance to vote for our leader. That way, the vote stays fair.¡±

    ¡°So you would rather live in daily chaos?¡± Jim asked.

    I have to say; I was proud of him. Not only did he understand what I was suggesting, but he also stopped trying to call himself Ryan. What makes the name his parents gave him better than the one I did?

    ¡°Well, you see¡­ Heh¡­ I think once we choose the right leader, maybe the elections don¡¯t need to continue.¡±

    ¡°And who would be the right leader?¡± he asked with suspicion.

    ¡°Me.¡±

    ¡°Literally anyone else. I¡¯m sorry, Vandre, but you can¡¯t even get my name right. What makes you think you could rule as our president or whatever?¡±

    ¡°Dammit Jim, I only messed up once. And I only called you Ryan this morning because you keep saying it over and over.¡±

    ¡°My name is Ryan!¡±

    ¡°No. No, I don¡¯t think it is. Anyway, I think we should form a separate party with different core beliefs than Chuck and his cronies. Then we can demand a vote every time we find someone new in the park.¡± I said, carrying the corpse down the stairwell like an old couch.

    ¡°I would support Chuck.¡±

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    ¡°Good, good, keep up that misdirection. That¡¯s the only way to truly turn the tables.¡±

    ¡°No, really, he¡¯s a good guy. He¡¯s not cruel, he¡¯s not demanding, he just wants to see us live.¡±

    I dropped my side of the corpse in shock. Was this man really defending his leader like he wasn¡¯t a piece of shit? That¡­ that never happened. Ever since the early two thousands, every elected official I¡¯ve met was a steaming pile of crap with almost no redeeming qualities. A few liked dogs, but that was hardly a reason to put them in a place of power.

    Sometimes it was nice to see the way humanity grew. After the Kennedy assassination and the chaos it produced, I had withdrawn from society. It was only for a thousand years or so, but it seemed mankind had learned empathy in my time away. Sure, I had come back occasionally to see the latest big thing, but it always felt like mankind was more worried about the individual instead of the community. To find a person who cared about others, truly cared, was rare. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying that Chuck doesn¡¯t use his place of power to gain anything?¡±

    ¡°No, he uses it to help anyone that comes by.¡±

    Well shit. Maybe humanity progressed further in the last millennium than I thought.

    Strangely compelled to help my fellow man, I reached over and pulled the weight of the corpse from his shoulders.

    ¡°What the hell, man?¡±

    ¡°The guy was dead. Would you rather carry him down another eight floors, or grab the next body?¡±

    ¡°I would rather not have a pile of rotten, exploded meat at the bottom of the stairs!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± I said, shuffling to put myself between Jim and the view of the floor.

    The body had indeed exploded on impact.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Why is this garment so short?¡± I complained, trying to pull the back of my floral sundress under me. The rock I was sitting on was hot from the sun, and even a thin barrier between it and my skin was better than nothing.

    Even if I could heal the wound, being burned was never comfortable.

    ¡°If you would wear pants instead, you might not have that problem,¡± Jim said around a mouthful of sandwich.

    After a long day of dragging bodies out of the building, we spent the afternoon eating sandwiches cobbled together from abandoned ingredients. As it turned out, Jim was a long-time resident of the city and knew the perfect place to get a sandwich. Unfortunately, the service was not what he remembered, and we had to make our own food. I guess I could forgive the owner¡¯s absence. Especially considering all we found of him was a foot.

    ¡°There was a time when it was perfectly acceptable for a man to wear a dress whenever the hell he pleased,¡± I defended.

    ¡°Yes, I know about the early two-thousands,¡± Jim said with an eye roll. ¡°Wasn¡¯t there a lot of stupid arguing about personal identity back then?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I mumbled around a mouthful of meat, ¡°The Christians thought they were special and that laws should be based on their storybook.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s stupid. No government should be based on religion. Especially since the concept of God only exists to control the masses.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. The idea of an all powerful being that ¡®knows your heart,¡¯ makes it easier to excuse bad behavior. Even today, the belief in God is a personal choice. For some, it¡¯s comforting to believe that someone is out there waiting to usher you into the beyond.¡±

    ¡°But how much evil have they done in the name of God?¡± Jim asked, taking a sip of water.

    ¡°How much good has been done?¡± I replied. I hated playing devil¡¯s advocate for that guy, but the people who embraced God and his teachings weren¡¯t always bad. Were many of them hypocrites? Yes, but that didn¡¯t eliminate the massive amount of good that was done in his name. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about the early two-thousands, though. I was thinking back to the ancient Scottish and Romans. Pants were few, and only reserved for people who truly needed¡­¡±

    Our conversation was cut short as a group of air-cars flew into the square. These weren¡¯t your normal run-of-the-mill air-cars. No. Apparently, whoever owned these beauties had watched every shitty apocalypse movie ever made and decided to cobble them together into one mess. Seriously, they¡¯d made the worst attempt at being cool I¡¯d ever seen. Then they topped it.

    Before the cars touched down, several men in tight pants and tighter leather harnesses jumped out. Landing with a thump, I winced in pain because I knew just how unpractical the maneuver was¡ªand corny. A superhero landing? Seriously, when are these types going to realize that being tough isn¡¯t worth it if your knees go to shit in your thirties?

    ¡°Hey look, these street rats collected our food for us. Thanks,¡± a big guy in a clown mask with a metal ring around his eyes said, walking up to the pile of provisions the scavengers had gathered. ¡°But it¡¯s not enough. Where¡¯s the booze?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have any.¡± The lead scavenger said, ¡°Get the fuck away from our food and go find your own.¡±

    ¡°Why? We can just take what you have here. We ran out at the WalStore, we want more.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ ate everything at the WalStore?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what of it?¡± The tough guy said, signaling his men to take a box.

    ¡°Do you know how much food is in one of those things?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we counted. It¡¯s what accountants do. Last time we ran out, we had to eat a pretty little redhead that wandered through our territory.¡±

    They had to be joking. It had only been a week, and these idiots had already resorted to cannibalism? And here I was thinking humans could be decent.

    ¡°Look, you gimp suit wearing, mushroom stamping, mountain of lard, get out of here and leave us alone.¡± Jim said, pointing at the man with his sandwich. ¡°And what¡¯s with the body oil? Dude, you¡¯re wearing leather AND oil? Do you know how stupid you look?¡±

    ¡°Take him.¡±

    Four leather bound accountants approached our rock with murder in their eyes. Jim, realizing his error, glanced at me in terror.

    I couldn¡¯t do anything. I wouldn¡¯t. If I fought here and got hurt, everyone would know what I was when the injury healed. I couldn¡¯t let expose myself to help one person. Not again.

    Having collected their ¡®Taxes,¡¯ the accountants climbed into the cars with Jim strapped to the hood. They were going to treat him like meat, and I knew it. It wasn¡¯t right. It wasn¡¯t ok. But it reinforced something I¡¯ve believed for a long time. Humans were just as awful today as they were at the dawn of civilization.

 Wanderer - Chapter 48

    Three weeks and a few kidnappings after the fall.

    We did it. The Scavengers and I finally cleared all the bodies out of a building. Luckily, it was one of the few that wasn¡¯t too badly damaged in the chaos of the fall.

    Now we had a building with four walls, a roof, and even a decently protected doorway we could defend if necessary. It would have been better if it was something actually designed to be lived in, like a hotel or an apartment building, but having an office building that was mostly undamaged was decent. Not great, decent.

    I mean seriously, why humans reach up to touch the sky when it was so much safer to live underground and hide in the deepest hole you could find, I¡¯ll never know. I¡¯ve tried to convince people to return to the caves, but I got ridiculed every time I did, and still do. But hey, you do you. Just because I like them doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re the only source of shelter.

    The problem with the building wasn¡¯t just that it was an office building. No, the problem was much simpler. It was that no one else saw the value in it and just wanted to move on.

    If the scavengers couldn¡¯t see the advantage, maybe Chuck would. After all, he seemed like the most normal person in a group of psychotic survivors, but all that meant was that he could tie his shoes without eating the laces.

    Where was I again? Oh¡­

    The other scavengers and I slowly made our way back to the park laden with so many supplies we could¡¯ve stocked a small convenience store. I hated the work, but the knowledge that starving people could eat because of my efforts made it all worth it. With all the fallen debris in the streets, walking the handful of blocks back to the camp took significantly longer than expected.

    The survivors needed to get out of the elements if they were to, well¡­ survive. No matter how much resistance he gave, I needed to convince Chuck to move into the office building. The weather would turn in a few months and trying to live through a New York winter without walls would be a nightmare.

    ¡°Vandre, for the last time, we are happy in the park. Why should we move when we¡¯ve built our city here?¡±

    ¡°Because we can¡¯t defend it for shit? Think about it, if the Accountants decide our taxes aren¡¯t enough, they could just walk in here and do what they please.¡±

    ¡°And you think a building is going to change that?¡± Throwing his hands into the air in exasperation, he turned his back and stared out at the polluted lake.

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah, I do. Look, it¡¯s not perfect, but we can clean up the blood and build some apartments so people can have a bit of privacy.¡± I replied with just as much vigor, ¡°They know where we are. Moving will give us the gift of anonymity while we work on building some defenses.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a good point. But I can¡¯t make us move without a vote¡­¡±

    I didn¡¯t wait for Chuck to finish before I ran to the center of our camp and interrupted everyone eating their dinner.

    ¡°Citizens¡­ survivors¡­ we have an opportunity,¡± I began, ¡°the Accountants know where we are, and that¡¯s a problem. If they came here right now and wanted to take you, your pants, or even worse¡­ your dinner, there is nothing we could do to stop them. But we have a solution.¡±

    ¡°Dammit Vandre, you can¡¯t just run in and do shit like this!¡±

    ¡°And why not, Chuck? You believe in putting things to a vote¡­ we¡¯re voting.¡±

    He took a breath to respond, but by this point in our relationship, he knew me well enough to just shrug his shoulders and accept that I would do what I wanted to do.

    ¡°Thanks! That will reflect well on your report card,¡± I said, knowing full well he had no clue what I meant. ¡°Look, the scavengers have just finished clearing an entire building. It¡¯s structurally sound and has plenty of space for people to live, work, and grow. We could start to truly rebuild.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± an old man asked from the crowd.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°And, I think we should move into this place and make it our home. It won¡¯t be easy, but it¡¯s protected. No more rain on our tents and no more threat of a raid every time we cannot pay an outrageous tax.¡± I jumped onto a park table and looked around, making eye contact with everyone in the crowd before continuing, ¡°And if we¡¯re lucky, we might be able to restore power and water.¡±

    I went on explaining about the advantages of living in an office building, and the improvements it would make in our lives. The people loved it. No, I didn¡¯t tell them about the bloodstains in various cubicles¡­ that was a bridge I¡¯d burn while crossing it. For now, the important part was that they wanted to have a home again. It had only been three weeks, but spending that much time without a place to call your own was¡­ taxing.

    And if anyone should know what it was to miss having a place to call their own¡­ it would be me. I miss my cave. Oh, and I miss my siblings.

    It didn¡¯t take long for the vote to be cast and, to my immense joy, the overwhelming majority agreed. A few were hesitant, but enough were happy with the idea that construction of our home would soon begin. Once we moved, the wouldn¡¯t be able to find us so easily. They might track us down eventually, but by that time, we should be able to protect ourselves.

    Should¡­

    It wasn¡¯t the perfect answer, but it was one that I could be happy with for now.

    ~~**~~

    A few weeks later, I found myself on the roof of our new home, gazing out on a world of stone and ash. I wish I could describe the feeling of emptiness that filled me when I saw the desolate nothing, but you would probably just call me a monster, like so many others before you. But, just like the old Hollywood movie critics, I¡¯ve seen it before.

    I watched the fall of Egypt. Many believe they know why it collapsed. But, if you ask me, our demise was directly linked to the extreme economic disparity cultivated by the various temples. They raised the rich while walking on the backs of the poor, demanding more from an already beaten population until there was nothing left to give. We watched the rich die when the Persians finally overthrew the government, and not a soul mourned their passing.

    I watched Rome fall. It took much longer than Egypt, but at its heart, it was the same. The empire split, weakening both sides, leaving them vulnerable to invaders. Then the economy collapsed and the middle class all but vanished, leaving only the rich and the poor in its place. When a rich man can eat a meal on plates of gold while watching a poor man struggle to clothe his children, all good will toward the ruling class is lost. That¡¯s why so many left, and so many more joined the invaders when they took the empire for themselves.

    I even watched as America tore itself apart, forgoing the title of ¡®Land of the Free¡¯ and replacing it with acceptance only if you believed the same as your neighbor. They allowed religion to make policy and slandered anyone that pointed it out. These are things people could live with, though. But when the middle class became poor, and the poor became impoverished, it was only a matter of time before they fell. Just like empires before them. They laughed when the rich lost billions, celebrated when they died, and aspired for nothing so they wouldn¡¯t become one of them.

    What was watching the fall of one more city? One more country?

    One more world?

    I heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel behind me and I closed my eyes. Couldn¡¯t they tell I was brooding up here? What was the point of being cursed to live forever if I couldn¡¯t brood on my own schedule?

    ¡°Vandre,¡± Chuck interrupted, ¡°the scavengers said you guys brought back two dozen mattresses today. Good job. You¡¯re making a real difference in these people¡¯s lives.¡±

    Yeah, sure¡­ Tell me all about how I¡¯m saving society. I¡¯m not the hero of this story. I¡¯m just the narrator.

    Eh, nobody really cared about privacy anyway.

    ¡°Is it worth it, Chuck?¡± I asked, letting the carefully crafted mask of mortality slip for a moment.

    ¡°Is what worth it?¡±

    ¡°This. Any of this. Are humans worth saving? Is humanity worthy of the planet they stand on right now? We build by destroying. I¡¯m not sure anything we¡¯ve built in the last thousand years had any consideration for what it would do to the world. The planet is facing a fucking ice age, for crying out loud!¡±

    At least that would be a new one for me. I remember the end of the last glaciation, but I wasn¡¯t around for the beginning. Maybe I could wait out an entire epoch in the ice if I was lucky. Who knows, a new sentient species might roam this ball of mud by then.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t we be worth saving? We can learn from our mistakes.¡±

    ¡°Historically, that¡¯s not true. In fact, humans have been so bad at that part of the process you excuse it by saying ¡®history repeats itself.¡¯ But what you don¡¯t realize is that it doesn¡¯t have to.¡±

    ¡°You talk about humans like you¡¯re not one of us,¡± Chuck said, joining me on the ledge to look at the skyline.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t I? If anything, I¡¯m the most human of us all,¡± I mused. Would my audible thoughts get me in trouble? Probably, but if I didn¡¯t say them, who would? And if I spoke, who would listen? Even if they could, what would they do? I knew God no longer looked after these people, or this world. If he did, he surely didn¡¯t care enough to fix it. Wasn¡¯t he just supposed to wave his magic wand and restore the planet to its former glory or something?

    ¡°The way you talk¡­ It¡¯s almost¡­ ancient?¡±

    ¡°We both know that¡¯s not possible, Chuck, but thanks for having such a high opinion of me,¡± I said, replacing the mask of mortality and resuming the persona of a fool. ¡°Any accountants?¡±

    ¡°No, the WalStore Accountants can¡¯t seem to find us. They try to take people here or there when they¡¯re out alone, but that has mixed results.¡±

    What was the catch? Things didn¡¯t just go well for me. There had to be a time when everything would fall apart in my hands. It always did.

    What was wrong with me? Couldn¡¯t I just enjoy having this home? Couldn¡¯t I just enjoy having people that trusted me?

    Sadly, the answer was simple.

    No.

 Wanderer - Chapter 49

    Six weeks and a slightly used mattress after the fall.

    It took a month and a half for people to stop being stupid and accept that society would have to be rebuilt from the ground up. Some would say a month and a half is a long time, but I think it was possibly the shortest turnaround I¡¯ve ever experienced. And even if it wasn¡¯t, who am I to judge? It took me about two-hundred and fifty years of near constant moping to get off my ass and rebuild after the Akkadian Empire fell to drought. I hate trying to get a new empire off the ground. It¡¯s almost like building a new business with nothing but a vision.

    Tedious.

    I still believe the Assyrian Empire was among my greatest accomplishments. We were the first to realize iron was stronger than bronze and siege engines worked wonders against walls. They mocked our War Engineers, and they were often the first to die when we broke through their defenses. We had quite the knack with ladders, though; you almost couldn¡¯t keep us out of your city.

    these poor souls a modicum of privacy. There were a few people that still refused to move in, claiming they would rather live in the woods than a life stuck in an office building day after day.

    I mean, I couldn¡¯t really blame them. Being forced to stare at the same four walls for weeks at a time would drive anyone to insanity. But even those incredibly selfish, sanity loving individuals eventually caved and admitted that our building was more comfortable than sleeping outside. Apparently, warm food and a soft bed were better than waking up to an ant biting your face and leaves in your hair.

    Who knew?

    One thing to point out¡ªand I will be more than happy to go on the record about this¡ªwas that many people actually had a full and rewarding life after the move. Before the fall, most of these citizens could barely afford to eat. Those that could afford the luxury of money often had to make hard choices. Did they pay the rent and have a roof over their heads, or did they buy food and tell their children they were on an adventure while living out of their car?

    It¡¯s good the last society crumbled to ashes. The politicians that forced people to make those types of decisions didn¡¯t just deserve to be kicked out of office; no, they deserved to be forced to crawl through the streets and beg for scraps like the lowest of their people. Even that is too merciful.

    I¡¯ve heard there are better planets in the republic, but if they¡¯re anything like what I¡¯ve seen on Earth¡­ Well, maybe it was a good thing the invaders started with the politicians. I still remember when Benjamin Hargrave did the same thing. After shedding blood for the colonization of Mars, he was asked to claim the planet in the name of the United States. Initially, the scientists accepted the proposal, but when the Senate refused to treat them equally, they¡¯d had enough.

    I applaud Mr. Hargrave. Having the restraint to address the Senate in one last request for representation must have taken a lot. Their death¡ªand the deaths of all world leaders afterwards¡ªsays a lot about American hubris. The lawmakers and the rich thought they were untouchable because of their status and wealth. However, what happens when the threat ignores money?

    At least Ronald Reagan was right about one thing; the world could only unify because of an outside threat. It just wasn¡¯t the threat he envisioned.

    I wish Hargrave and his allies would¡¯ve remained in power, but I can respect the desire to step down. Dealing with a world economy day in and day out leaves little time to build a new planet. Unfortunately, the government that replaced them quickly turned into another civilization where they treated the poor like cattle.

    Luckily, we treated the people living in our little society like people. Everyone had food, water, shelter, and a community that cared about each other. Wisely, Chuck made a rule stating that all weapons had to be left at the door to our building. While not a popular rule, weapons were so rare that not too many people were affected.

    In the end, Jim was right about Chuck. The man didn¡¯t believe in building prosperity on the backs of others. He believed in giving everyone a chance to thrive and refused to pass judgement on a person based on outside opinions. It¡¯s sad that it took an apocalypse for him to make it in government.

    The older generation didn¡¯t like this approach and wanted Chuck to cast judgement and condemn anyone they decided was unsavory. They spent hours telling young people about the good ol¡¯ days and how much better it was when people fit in perfect little social boxes. Luckily, most of those young people choose to avoid them completely.

    Sometimes, the best way to deal with an older generation of bigots was simply to ignore them.

    I really wish humanity would¡¯ve learned that lesson back in . It would have saved so much suffering if people had simply stopped listening to a ruling class that was so out of touch with the people they represent. But sadly, people only listen to the biggest asshole with the loudest voice instead of the policy they represent.

    Chuck came up several policies, both good and bad, but one of his most successful was about the proper use of charged batteries found in the debris. It was simple: if someone brought back a power cell strong enough to cook food, they had first choice of dinner. It wasn¡¯t much, but even a reward that small was enough to get people out and hunting for batteries day in and day out. And we had warm food, which is honestly more of a blessing than you realize until you¡¯re sitting on a rooftop, in a dress, eating cold porridge and missing the desert the way I was before we got those charged batteries up and running.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Hey everyone, thanks for coming,¡± Chuck said, addressing a room packed with survivors one evening. ¡°We¡¯ve hit an impasse that we can¡¯t overcome without the help of the entire community.¡±

    It was always funny to watch new politicians addressing their constituents. They always turn up the threat level too quickly. Yeah, that¡¯ll earn votes, but a well-delivered plan that stops panic before it starts builds trust. There¡¯s nothing a politician can¡¯t do if they have the trust of the public.

    ¡°Long story short, we need to grow our own food. You haven¡¯t felt the effects yet, but the scavengers are having a harder and harder time finding enough food to support our growing population.¡±

    ¡°Good question. I¡¯ve been looking at putting a garden on our roof. There are some issues with that, but it¡¯s the best I can think of.¡±

    Ahhh, shit. I couldn¡¯t just let these idiots die off. Were there ways to grow food indoors and in a limited space? Yes. Was it something most people of this age would know? Not even a little. I had to figure out a reason to have this knowledge. Hopefully, the lie wouldn¡¯t be needed, but if it was, well, I would just burn that bridge when I got there.

    ¡°Why not hydroponics?¡±

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Segu, I need your help.¡± The king said after the servants left us on a balcony overlooking the great city of Babylon.

    ¡°Yes, my king. Anything to see our city grow.¡±

    I¡¯d advised Nebuchadnezzar for many years and made sure his wildest dreams became a reality. When he demanded protection from the Assyrian Siege engines, I designed a second set of city walls to stop the towers from advancing. When he demanded a place to pray to the gods for protection, I built a ziggurat greater than anything our world had seen.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Just because I was working for the other side didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t enjoy building something new. It just meant they would probably destroy it when the city eventually fell.

    ¡°Good¡­ good. The princess is on her way here to marry me and merge the lines of Babylon and Median. An alliance with the Cyaxarid dynasty will secure our border and make us strong enough to stand our ground against the invaders. Sadly, she comes from a fertile land with mountains and forests that you and I could only dream of.¡± The king raised a hand to his head and wiped the sweat from his brow for emphasis.

    ¡°Yes, my lord, I understand Media is a much more¡­ prosperous land than us. We often trade them for grain while offering our livestock in return.¡±

    ¡°I want a garden capable of sustaining the vegetation of her homeland. I care not for the expense, so long as it is done and she can be happy.¡±

    What he was asking was madness. There were so many reasons this plan was a reckless waste of labor and resources, but in the end, I could only bring myself to talk about the most obvious problem. He couldn¡¯t really expect me to have slaves carry water to the palace every day just so his wife could feel at home. ¡°And how do we provide enough water for this magical garden?¡±

    ¡°We have slaves, do we not?¡±

    Apparently, I was wrong.

    ¡°We do, but they are hardly the most efficient method of transporting water.¡± I countered.

    ¡°What about those things you designed a while back? You called them¡­ pumps if I remember correctly. Could you not expand on that theorem and keep fresh water in the garden?¡±

    I smiled as the gears turned in my head.

    This would be an undertaking that left the world in awe for thousands of years. If I could make it work, if I could make plants survive in a habitat like Babylon, I could be a god amongst men. They would remember me throughout time as the inventor that changed farming forever.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Why not hydroponics?¡± I repeated, raising my voice above the chatter.

    ¡°What now?¡± Chuck asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s an ancient form of growing plants. It¡¯s a practice the dates back to the Babylon, but it has always remained a useful tool in agriculture.¡± I explained, ¡°We can start the project with little more than a few buckets and some water.¡±

    ¡°And you think you can pull it off?¡± the leader replied with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Does a bear shit in the woods?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yes, the answer is yes.¡±

    ~~**~~

    Building a hydroponic garden large enough to support our people was much harder than I led on. Granted, throwing old cubicles out of the window under the guise of creating a more defensible perimeter made things easier, but that was only one step.

    Oh¡­ and it was fun.

    Getting the seeds to start our garden really stretched our ability to innovate. We found fresh packets of seeds in kitchen drawers and, occasionally, the remains of rooftop gardens. It took time and significant effort, but we managed to sprout our first crop using takeout containers and paper towels.

    To be honest, it was more progress than I expected to make in just a few weeks. The people of this era weren¡¯t bad people, but they¡¯d become so lazy that doing menial labor was a completely foreign concept. It wasn¡¯t their fault, in this hyper advanced world, being disconnected from technology was nearly a death sentence.

    Chuck hadn¡¯t been lying to the people when he explained how pressing our situation was; the food we were able to scavenge was getting more scarce and the idea that we would soon live on tightly controlled rations was terrifying. I hadn¡¯t broadcasted it, but I had stopped eating completely to make sure someone else could.

    If my forced immortality was good for anything, it was being able to ignore hunger for long periods of time. Unfortunately, my body glows when it heals, which is something it has to do regularly when recovering from fatal levels of hunger. I could only use the same diarrhea excuse to get away so many times before someone suspected something.

    I mean, really, who runs up to the roof to poop twice a day?

    It was on one of these roof runs that I found myself sitting on an old air conditioning unit, lost in the city skyline. Despite seeing the crumbled buildings, my mind was lost in city scapes from long ago. It wasn¡¯t healthy to dwell on the past, but when you¡¯ve experienced as much of it as I have¡­ well, it¡¯s inevitable.

    The ruined city reminded me of Warsaw, how its beauty was transformed into a landscape of horror by the Nazis in mere heartbeats. I remember their black boots, pounding down streets littered with the belongings of the people they¡¯d taken or killed. I still remember walking across streets, carefully picking my way across bricks and through doorways with no walls, only to find the faces of children crushed in the debris.

    Before that, there was the destruction of Lyon, a city of such opulence and splendor, even the poor felt out of place inside its walls. When the people rose up and threw off the chains of oppression, nothing could stop them from pulling down statues and tearing apart buildings. If the revolutionaries had their way, the only thing remaining would be a single column of stone marking the place where a city once stood.

    Despite what we are supposed to believe, dictators and revolutionaries have more in common with one another than society would like to admit. In the end, it didn¡¯t matter which side won the war. It didn¡¯t matter who had the greater morality. Either way, much like the ruined city before me, the only ones who truly lost were the people caught in the crossfire of morality and control.

    The crunch of gravel pulled me from my contemplations and brought me back to the here and now.

    ¡°Are you still up here?¡± Chuck¡¯s voice came from around the corner. ¡°We¡¯ve finished up transplanting the next round of sprouts.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just finishing.¡± I replied, feeling a line of cold trail down my face.

    I was crying again. I tried to control myself and ignore my emotions, but the truth was that my punishment was not one I deserved. I felt empathy. I felt pain. I felt the empty part of my soul every time I thought about my siblings, my wives, my children.

    I felt loss.

    I wiped my hand across my face and waved for Chuck to take his seat beside me.

    ¡°Something bothering you?¡± he asked, noting my pained expression.

    ¡°No¡­ Yes. It sucks, you know? This world, this life. Everything about it sucks and there is no coming back for us. How many times have we fallen as a species? Where does it end? All of them have fallen. Egyptian, Assyrian, Hittite, Roman, British, American¡­ and now Earth. Why, why do we have to keep seeing things fall apart?¡±

    I had to rein in my emotions. If I let too much slip¡­

    ¡°Hang on there. Now, I¡¯m not a farmer, or plumber, or anything useful to our new life. But, I am someone used to dealing with loss. I can find the bright in dark places, and I think you can too.¡±

    ¡°Where, Chuck? Where the hell am I supposed to find things like hope in this world?¡± I said, grabbing my face to hide.

    ¡°All around you. Don¡¯t you see what you¡¯ve done? You helped clear the city of disease before it could spread. You fed hundred of survivors by stealing food from the homes of the dead. Honestly, I¡¯ll give you that one¡­ it¡¯s a pretty gruesome practice. But look at you now. You¡¯ve designed an entirely new way for us to eat.¡±

    ¡°And who¡¯s going to keep the water moving? Dorris can¡¯t always be awake.¡± I replied, referencing the old lady that offered to circulate our water supply.

    ¡°She will do until we find a better answer. I honestly don¡¯t see why you see this as a loss.¡±

    I had to stop and ask myself that same question. Sure, things were looking grim for the humans, but they already proved to have an answer to most major questions, things like water and power remained out of our reach, but that could come at a later time.

    We watched a group of accountants down on the street as they went from building to building in search of both people and food. I wanted to make them pay for taking Jim, but there was nothing I could do right now.

    ¡°Have you ever heard of the Akkadians?¡± I asked, scratching at a pebble caught in the tar on the rooftop.

    ¡°The cajun mega-hospital?¡±

    ¡°No, the real ones.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to say no,¡± Chuck said, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°They were a civilization that lived in the early days of human life. They tried to conquer the known world and came very close to succeeding. By all rights, they should have succeeded. They had roads, a postal system, even their own language spoken inside the empire. Hell, they were the first people to create a set of governing laws.¡± I said, mentally comparing Madison Square Garden to the Grand Bathhouse of Tell Leilan.

    I still remembered coming up with the idea of mail¡­ Good times.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡±

    ¡°They died. The empire collapsed. It wasn¡¯t because of a failed military campaign, nor was it because of mismanagement. In the end, the thing that killed the Akkadians was a very sudden and severe drought. It dried up their reservoirs and left the place a desolate mess. It became so dry, the wind buried the city of Tell Leilan under a meter of silt.¡±

    ¡°Did anyone survive?¡± he asked, a terrified expression plastered to his face.

    Good. He needed to be afraid. If he became too complacent, the same thing would happen to his little empire of survivors.

    ¡°A few. When Sargon died and left the empire to his children, they devolved into little more than a collection of warring states. If we¡¯re not careful¡­ things will go the same way here.¡± I said, playing with the edge of my dress.

    ¡°How¡­ How do you know all this? How can you garden, know history, understand medicine, and who knows how many more skills?¡± Chuck asked, staring at me in shock.

    Dammit.

    I was trying to remain semi-forgettable. And while I know these people wouldn¡¯t forget me, I had to stay out of the history books and in the shadows.

    ¡°I umm¡­ I¡­ I like history?¡±

    ¡°You sound like you lived in the book.¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ yeah?¡± I stared at the skyline, seeing it transform into civilizations that I¡¯d watched rise and fall.

    I knew Chuck meant textbooks, but he wasn¡¯t wrong. I had, in fact, lived through most of history. He would never find out who I was; If he did, I may just have to hit him in the head with a large rock.

 Wanderer - Chapter 50

    Twelve weeks and a hydroponic memory after the Fall.

    ¡°You know what sucks about keeping watch?¡± a guard asked around a mouthful of oatmeal. ¡°The sounds. In the park, you couldn¡¯t hear the buildings settling or people screaming for help.¡±

    ¡°Screaming for help?¡± I asked, eyebrow raised.

    I truly hoped he was exaggerating, but I didn¡¯t think so. We all heard things in the night. Hell, it was the main reason I pushed so hard to get us out of the park, but the screams of people in pain were a different matter entirely. Not that I possessed the ability¡ªor desire¡ªto go out and fight for their survival, but we could pay some poor schmuck to go find people in the night. An extra shirt or new linens were wonderful rewards for those willing to take a midnight bounty.

    Three months was a long time to survive in the wasteland by yourself. But I¡¯m sure someone out there was channeling their inner Bear Grylls and living off the land. Was it really living off the land when you were just robbing empty homes, though? It could be. At the very least, it could count as survival.

    ¡°Yeah. When the wind dies down and everything goes quiet, you can hear voices. Most of the time we ignore them, but that gets really hard when someone¡¯s screaming for help.¡±

    ¡°And we¡¯re not trying to help them¡­ why?¡±

    ¡°Because that¡¯s not my job. My job is to protect this building. Going out at night is dangerous.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a guard. Dangerous is the entire job,¡± I said incredulously.

    ¡°Nuh-uh. We watch in case something bad goes down, then we come get you guys.¡±

    ¡°And what, pray tell, am I going to do that you can¡¯t with your gun? Is it just for show, or are you completely useless?¡±

    ¡°What?

    ¡°Nothing¡­ It went over your head, which is more than I can say about the depth of your intelligence.¡±

    I was mad. What right did this moron have to keep that information secret? At the very least, it should have been a discussion between the group leaders. Even if everyone agreed we couldn¡¯t help, the people lost in the dark deserved the conversation.

    Sometimes I miss the monarchy.

    If we had a monarch, they could decree that we must investigate any sound we heard out there. That way, we didn¡¯t run the chance of leaving someone alone out there simply because the guards were too cowardly to do anything useful. Sadly, that scenario entirely depends on a person¡¯s loyalty to their fellow man. Unfortunately, loyalty was a concept of society left behind long ago in exchange for self-preservation

    ¡°What is this?¡± Chuck said, directing his question at the guard.

    ¡°Mister Chuck, I was just talking about the really weird and unsettling things we hear at night.¡±

    ¡°Weird how?¡±

    ¡°Screams.¡± I said, cutting the explanation off before he could try to spin it in a noble light. ¡°Our noble guard duty has been letting people die in the streets because it¡¯s too scary to go get them.¡±

    Was I poking the bear on this one? Possibly. But leaving people to die because the cowards assigned to help couldn¡¯t bother to raise a finger was truly inexcusable. If this would have been one of my cities, I would have gutted them like the yellow-bellied cowards they were and left them in the street for all to know their crime.

    You didn¡¯t turn your back on those that rely on you, whether they know it yet or not.

    ¡°How many? How often?¡±

    Chuck wasn¡¯t wasting words on useless platitudes. Instead, he took the more direct path of moving forward to stop the deaths from continuing. The longer I got to know Chuck, the more I liked him.

    ¡°Almost every night, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Jeez,¡± the leader replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°Fine, you¡¯re on the expedition to locate the source of these screams. Vandre, you go with him and make sure he doesn¡¯t back out. But be sure you don¡¯t get too close to the city walls. We can¡¯t afford any attention from the Mutated.¡±

    ¡°You leave the moment you¡¯re done eating. Take Scavenger Group One with you. They know Vandre and they know the streets.¡±

    And just like that, the command was given. I was back to risking my secret in the field.

    Yay.

    Dammit.

    ~~**~~

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Our investigation led us to the exact place we hoped it wouldn¡¯t: The WalStore. Hours upon hours of clues had brought our search party straight to a pair of glass storefront doors. While we weren¡¯t nearly stupid enough to storm the place, we were stupid enough to claim that we wouldn¡¯t let them take another person.

    You know, like we had control over that or something.

    It really was amusing how optimistic some people were. Even while their civilization crumbled to nothing, they continued to hope. I was almost envious of them. I was almost envious of all of them.

    We watched as an overly modified vehicle touch down and its passengers climbed out. Dragged by the leather-bound accountants, four people with bound hands were shoved through the door at knife point. The last thing we heard as the cheap glass portal closed was a wail of painful mourning as their fate met them for the first time.

    ¡°There are a few things that need to happen if we¡¯re going to stop them from taking people,¡± I said when we¡¯d retreated to our base of operations. ¡°First, we need a set of two-way radios to make sure we can hear each other no matter where we are.¡±

    ¡°And how would we do that?¡± Chuck asked.

    ¡°Pick a building, put a relay on the top floor, and post watches around our territory.¡±

    ¡°You think a radio relay is going to stop them?¡±

    ¡°No, but I think it will help us fight back.¡± I replied.

    Chuck walked to our battery array and read the current draw. I knew where he would go with his argument, and he had a point. ¡°Power is a premium, and we don''t have enough batteries to spare a string at each site. They are much too valuable for that.¡±

    ¡°Then, obviously, we need to find another way.¡± I replied.

    This was yet another item in my long list of complaints with the modern world. Humanity was so spoiled by the convenience of unlimited energy, they completely forgot what it was like before. And when someone gently reminds them that the world doesn''t revolve around their convenience, they become angry. It¡¯s almost like they refuse to acknowledge how much worse life could be. I should just give them rocks and sticks. Let¡¯s see how much they like it when they have to create fire by accident.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just ¡®find another way¡¯, that¡¯s not how things work. Once the batteries run out of power, we¡¯re dead in the water,¡± Chuck said patiently.

    ¡°Hey, not to butt in or anything, but you know some of us had useful trades before the collapse, right?¡± a young woman said. I¡¯d seen her listening from the corner of my eye, but hadn¡¯t paid her any attention because¡­ well¡­ It¡¯s easy to forget that people could be useful.

    I¡¯m not sorry about that one either.

    ¡°Oh, and what exactly was your special skill? Carbon Miner, engineer, or maybe you were a high school science teacher?¡± I said, assuming her past like the fool I am.

    ¡°No, dickhead, I was a lineman for the power company. I know the New York power grid like the back of my hand.¡±

    That one was¡­ well, it was unexpected and more than a bit humbling. It was easy to dismiss people and assume they didn¡¯t matter, especially when you¡¯ve convinced yourself there was nothing left to learn.

    I only had a small history with power transmission. But if I could say anything about linemen, it was that they were more capable¡ªand crazy¡ªthan almost anyone else. Nikola was a dear friend, but the man was in a committed relationship with his pigeon¡­ and that was weird.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Nikola, what you have could change the world.¡± I said, circling the strange device in the center of the room.

    ¡°Yes, well¡­ I feel like I¡¯m on the edge of a breakthrough. If the energy will just do what the math says it should, I could power the entire world for free and bring forth the next revolution of man.¡± Nikola Tesla said, never turning away from the blackboard in the back of the room.

    The workspace was cluttered with abandoned projects, while his current obsession was proudly displayed in the center for all to see. Two small prongs held a perfect sphere of glass several feet above the ground. Inside, a metallic filament waited for current to be applied.

    ¡°And how, pray tell, will you be accomplishing this feat?¡± I asked, tapping the side of the glass and watching the tungsten wire tremor under the vibration.

    ¡°It¡¯s really quite fascinating. If I can crack the barrier of distance, that array could power radios, light bulbs, even electric motors. Sadly, I¡¯ve been¡­ Distracted of late. The pigeon¡­ It¡¯s sick, you see, and I can¡¯t bring myself to focus while I worry about her.¡±

    ¡°Does the machine work right now?¡±

    ¡°Of course, I wouldn¡¯t have let you see it if not. But please, friend, help me decipher the math that will heal this wonderful bird.¡±

    With confusion etched on my face, I turned and realized what was happening. The inventor hadn¡¯t been working on his dream of wireless power, but was instead calculating the effectiveness of various treatments for the bird he loved so deeply.

    ¡°Nikola, sometimes the things we love get sick. Sometimes, they die. And there¡¯s nothing we can do other than live our best life and experience everything this world can offer.¡± I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. The coming days would be hard on him, and support I could give was support he needed.

    ¡°And sometimes, you have to spit in the face of God while science pulls the ones we love back from the other side. If I¡¯m right, this machine will pump her with enough power that death will no longer seek her soul.¡±

    If my friend had been talking about a lover, child, or even a friend, I would be entirely on board. However, it was none of those. The creature he was so set on saving was a bird.

    ¡°You would play at being God?¡±

    In place of an answer, Nikola wrapped his fingers around a lever and pulled, closing the curtains and dropping the room into darkness. A moment later, I heard the distinct sound of a breaker being thrown as the machine energized. The air hummed with power as small arcs of lightning arced up and down the rods. A radio crackled to life and the smooth tones of Bing Crosby¡¯s ¡®White Christmas¡¯ filled the room.

    In the center of the room, the glass sphere flickered to life with a soft, blue-white light.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t I done so already? Haven¡¯t I already given light to the darkness?¡±

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Do you think you could restore our power without causing too much of a scene?¡± Chuck asked, glossing over our barbs and moving on to the point.

    ¡°I can do you one better. With a little help, I can build a dedicated circuit for this building, and we¡¯ll be the only ones in the city with power,¡± the lineswoman replied.

    ¡°Yeah, a dedicated circuit is good and all, but you¡¯re missing the point. Without the initial burst of power to start the fusion reactors, there will be no power to distribute,¡± I said, trying to poke holes in her plan.

    ¡°If we were planning to use fusion, then yes, it would be a problem. But we¡¯re not. I know the secret to power in this city, and I know how to bring it back.¡±

    I was wrong to dismiss this woman so casually. Restoring the power to this building would usher in a new stage of development for our group of survivors. It better not just be standard human bullshit. Because right now, our hope for the future relied entirely on her ability to produce results. I just hoped everything went well for once.

    Thinking of all the times things haven¡¯t gone to plan brought back a flash of memory from Egypt. If I hadn¡¯t proclaimed myself Set made flesh, the Pharaohs would¡¯ve never been that powerful. They used my hubris as the basis for calling themselves gods and enslaving others for thousands of years.

    What was that saying again? Something about the plans of mice and men?

 Wanderer - Chapter 51

    Twelve weeks and the spark of hope after the fall.

    It didn¡¯t take long to get the survivors excited about having power again. The idea of running lights, making food, and keeping warm without conserving energy was thrilling, if not intoxicating. In fact, the desire to bring normalcy back to our lives was so alluring, we had more volunteers than could be useful in the depths of the New York underground. While it was nice to know that so many would plunge into hell for their fellow man, it was best if we only took people that possessed at least a passing familiarity with the underground.

    Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being underground? Yeah, spend several hundred years in a tomb with Julius and tell me how much you enjoy it. Spoiler alert, you don¡¯t. Ever. I mean, there are only so many times you can make a skull talk to you before feeling like you¡¯re going insane.

    ¡°God dammit!¡± The lineman cursed, kicking a piece of broken rock with a steel-toed boot. ¡°Another collapsed tunnel. The attack did more damage to the tunnel system than I thought. Do we want to clear it, or go around?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m voting for clearing it out,¡± I said, pushing a dead rat to the side of the hallway with a stick.

    ¡°Clearing out the rocks might not be the best idea. It might make the tunnel unstable and cause an even bigger collapse,¡± someone said, giving the pile an untrusting eye.

    ¡°The conduit from our building probably goes through the substation a few blocks over. I know another way to get over there, but without either reading the drawing or doing a physical trace, we¡¯re just throwing darts in the dark. Without something to tell me we¡¯re on the right track, I can¡¯t promise I have the right cable.¡± The lineman explained, ¡°About twenty meters back up the tunnel, there is a split that will let us get gown to the next block. It¡¯ll take some time, but it¡¯s significantly less dangerous than clearing out this block.¡±

    I genuinely wanted to know what her solution would be if the next tunnel was also blocked, so I asked her, ¡°Sparky, what happens when that one is blocked, too? At which point do we just give up and go home?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me Sparky, my name is Rebecca and you know that,¡± she scolded. ¡°There is a cut through every block or so. Worst case, we head back up and come down through the manhole access on the other side of this. If any of you think we can continue to live without power, I invite you to go back. Otherwise, keep following me and we¡¯ll get there, eventually.¡±

    Great, not only did I need to spend more time in the dark tunnels of a city known for its rat population, but I had to do it around people who didn¡¯t know what I really was. If I somehow got injured and my healing triggered, they would probably see me as some sort of divine being. Not that I¡¯m complaining about being divine, but I don¡¯t fancy playing God again. Last time I did, people used it as an excuse to murder each other for a few thousand years. Perhaps I could disguise my ability as science rather than magic?

    ¡°And how do we avoid getting caught by the accountants? Opening a manhole cover is not an effortless task. We don¡¯t have a hook, and I don¡¯t fancy throwing my back out pulling it open with a rope. Not to mention, closing it on top of yourself afterward is damned near suicide.¡±

    While I thought the questions were perfectly normal and expected in a situation like this, they visibly annoyed the others. They didn¡¯t want to hear all the ways this could go wrong, and who could blame them? But if there was anyone better at being a pessimist than a 115,000-year-old man, it would honor me to shake their hand.

    ¡°Look, asshole, some of us need this. We¡¯ve lost everything, and there was nothing we could do to change that. Until now. Now, we have a chance to restore power to our home and bring back some shred of our old lives. Is it perfect? No, but it¡¯s a chance, and that chance is giving us more hope than anything else right now.¡± Sparky spat, ¡°If you can¡¯t get on board with actually helping instead of pushing dead rats across the room, then go back to the base and let us figure this out without you.¡±

    The lineman shouldered past me and walked back down the hallway. I just stood there in stunned silence while the rest of our group followed behind her. The look of absolute disgust on their faces as they walked by forced me to reflect on Sparky¡¯s words.

    Was that what all this was about? Hope? That nebulous concept could raise people from the brink of disaster or bury them in a pit of despair. Many people were never pushed to the breaking point where genuine hope shined. These people, these survivors, had watched their world crumble around them. Despite that, they¡¯d rebuilt a modicum of society and taken back a sliver of what they¡¯d lost.

    I still remember the hope in the eyes of the Jews when we freed them from those awful camps. Many were broken, but some¡­ Some had that spark in their eyes that no one could extinguish. They were the ones who would sing to the children as they fell asleep and speak the ancient prayers of their people despite dried and cracked lips. They prayed to a God that I¡¯d made up in my hubris. But to them, that God was real. And for all I know, their faith in that God brought him into being. Faith had power, didn¡¯t it?

    I didn¡¯t want to be alone again. I¡¯d spent the last thousand years with only myself for company, and it was not something I would recommend to anyone. I made my decision. Was it stupid? Probably. But I was willing to continue giving this life a real effort.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ~~**~~

    We eventually found the substation, but it took several hours and more than a few sewer-based bathroom breaks to get there. According to Sparky, the previous tech actually did their job and labeled the cable that supported our building. I didn¡¯t understand how rare this was, but apparently it was common enough to be a regular problem in the utility industry.

    After a short while of fiddling with wires and whatever other witchcraft electricians did, she disconnected every building from the substation. A few minutes later, she isolated the cable feeding the survivors'' building and reconnected it to the power distribution. Dusting off her hands, she walked up the line and to the main power plant. Luckily, this was a path she¡¯d worked on repeatedly while chasing cables cut by people who refused to have them located.

    If nothing else was guaranteed in the world, it was this: A person could dig at a construction site every day for a week, but the moment the clock struck five on a Friday afternoon a machine operator would magically find and rip a cable out of the ground. This would set off an immediate chain reaction of phone calls that ended in a lineman working to restore power until an ungodly hour in the morning. And that was if the lineman was lucky.

    Before this little exploration into the depths of the city I¡¯d never heard about this character loving named ¡®Bob with the Backhoe,¡¯ but by the time we¡¯d gotten to the station with the fusion generator, I hated the man. Although, the pure rage Sparky displayed when describing the carnage caused by a demolition crew with a deadline was magical. I thought I could hold a grudge for a long time. Apparently, I had nothing on the hate a lineman had for a construction crew.

    ¡°Alright. Normally, we have enough battery to operate the containment doors, but we don¡¯t have that luxury.¡± Sparky said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the large spherical chamber behind her, ¡°They are the only thing blocking our ability to generate power. Daryll, if you can get them open, I can get the system up in no time.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ I get to break something?¡± A wiry man in the back of the crowd said, the sheer manic glee in his voice telling me everything I needed to know about him.

    ¡°Yes, Daryll, you get to break something.¡± She grumbled, knowing the man had once been a member of a demolition team..

    ¡°FUCK YEAH!¡± the man screamed, immediately running back down the tunnel only to return a minute later with a fireman''s axe held firmly in his hands as he approached the doors. ¡°This is for you, Daddy. Should¡¯a come back with that gallon of milk.¡±

    It was surprising to see just how little time it took for them to mangle the portal and leave nothing but a hunk of twisted metal where doors once stood. Apparently, the pent-up rage of abandonment and an axe did wonders for creating openings where they didn¡¯t exist before.

    ¡°Hey there Sparky, I hate to burst your bubble on this one but¡­ Won¡¯t this compromise our ability to generate fusion safely?¡± I asked, ripping away the last of the scrap metal.

    ¡°No?¡± She laughed. ¡°I wish it was that simple, but it¡¯s not. Come in and I¡¯ll explain it to you.¡±

    The chamber was not the array of lasers and starting fuel I expected to find. Instead, a chamber packed with batteries from floor to ceiling greeted us as we walked inside. They were all glowing with a prismatic light I recognized from a memory so long ago. I heard Sparky talking as she explained the system and how she would restore it, but I was already lost in the depths of my memory. There were things I never wanted to remember about that day, and that light brought them all back.

    ~~**~~

    My brother and I were in our cave, and it was snowing outside. Our siblings were out hunting for food, but game had been scarce lately, and we didn¡¯t know if we could survive another night. Pulling the last morsel of our meal from its place above the fire, I handed it to my brother to take his fill. I always did that. I made sure they all had food, even when I was hungry.

    He would have the meat, and I would suck the marrow when he was done. Our brothers had eaten before leaving for the hunt, so we didn¡¯t need to worry about sharing beyond the two of us. Secretly, I hoped the long bouts of starvation had left him with little appetite. If so, I might even get a mouthful of meat.

    I waited patiently while he ate, but the rhythm of the driving snow outside slowly lulled me into slumber. I guess I felt safe in here¡­ I should. Mother always scared away anyone who didn¡¯t belong, and the few that weren¡¯t afraid would quickly learn why they should be.

    I suddenly awoke to the cracking sound of stone on stone and jumped to my feet to find our attacker. Seeing nothing, I turned to check on my brother and eat my meal, but I was frozen in place by what I saw. At the edge of the fire, my brother was smashing the bone against the stone floor of our cave. When the breaks were wide enough, he raised the thin bone to his mouth and worked the marrow free.

    My blood boiled at the sight of my brother''s betrayal. We gave that bastard everything; we fed him while we starved. We kept him warm while we shivered in the cold and ice. We even let him sleep through the night instead of needing to wake up and take a watch. Wasn¡¯t that enough? Did he need to take more?

    I quietly picked up the rock I¡¯d been resting my head on just a moment before and crept up behind him. In a fit of rage I would reflect on for much longer than I ever thought possible, I brought the stone down on his head.

    Once.

    Twice.

    Crack!

    His skull split open with the third strike, spraying blood across my face as the life left my brother¡¯s body. In horror, I realized what I¡¯d done. Dropping the gore covered stone, I stumbled toward the cave¡¯s wall. I didn¡¯t want to look, but in the end¡­ The look of shocked betrayal on my brother¡¯s face was one I hoped I could one day forget.

    ¡°You there! Dear god man, do you not know how to bathe?¡± a voice said from the mouth of the cave.

    ¡°Ugh?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, well, I want you to know that we saw what you did and are very displeased.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like this one bit, and this man showing up on the worst day of my life was the last thing I needed. I raised my club threateningly, pointed at it, and shouted, ¡°Ugh!¡±

    ¡°Uh, it¡¯s so annoying when they¡¯re not developed enough to understand me. Luci, take note to have a language package installed on the next model.¡±

    I squatted down to the floor and grabbed a fist sized rock and flung it at the creature. That move was stupid, and I realize that now. But grief can make you do things you instantly regret.

    The man never broke eye contact as he squatted down and picked up a rock of his own. Holding it up to his eyes, it started glowing with an eerie, prismatic light. When he threw it, it hit me directly in the forehead. The last thing I remember was laughter as I hit the ground and stared into my brother¡¯s shocked face.

    Then, I remembered nothing.

 Wanderer - Chapter 52

    Twelve weeks, a day, and a Disturbing discovery after the fall.

    I only heard the end of Sparky¡¯s explanation, but apparently this light-based energy was the same power that enabled humans to march across the galaxy in unending conquest for a thousand years. It kept them alive, strengthened them, and gave them abilities far beyond the realm of mortals.

    Silently, I wondered if it contained the secret that would finally let me die. If it could, that was only further proof of a twisted god¡¯s sense of humor. I finally embraced humanity and was actively helping them rise from the ashes of their broken world. Now, I stumbled upon something that could potentially give me what I¡¯ve been searching for.

    I swear, if I ever see that glowing bastard again, I¡¯m punching him in the face. Some would say I should¡¯ve learned, but I say the asshole has it coming.

    ¡°Ok, these extensions connect the converter down here to the panels on the roof. I hope the attack didn''t cause significant damage to the panels, or the converter won''t be able to pull enough light down here to start the process,¡± Sparky said, throwing a breaker while we held our breath in anticipation.

    The light coalesced in the capacitor, building and replicating like a living organism. Once the capacitor hit a predetermined point, the power flowed into a bank of turbines. Quickly reaching their maximum speed, light emanated from inside the rings and struck the receptors on the outside shielding. On a nearby wall, a screen lit up and displayed the generated power, load, and battery status. With the contraption working as expected, it didn¡¯t take long for the liquified light to fill the batteries inside the containment chamber. In fact, it took less than ten minutes for the readout to display a ten percent charge. We¡¯d created power in the middle of an apocalypse.

    ¡°This turbine isn¡¯t enough to power the city, but it¡¯ll handle a few buildings with relative ease.¡± She continued pushing in the massive fuse that would provide power to our building. ¡°Now we need someone with a little experience on radios. We can work with the kid versions for now, but there¡¯s no reason not to build a communications network.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how to do that?¡± I asked, genuinely curious. The number of times this woman had surprised me already was not insignificant and I didn¡¯t want to insult her again.

    ¡°What do I look like, a Swiss Army Knife?¡±

    Swing and a miss. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

    ¡°You know,¡± another said, ¡°building a radio relay isn¡¯t too hard. I used to build them for my science classes all the time. We could direct newcomers away from Times Square and keep them out of the hands of our friends down at the WalStore.¡±

    The light from the batteries kept drawing my gaze. Logically, I knew I¡¯d chosen to stay with these people and rebuild a better society free from people that wanted to hurt others. It was my choice, and I wouldn¡¯t betray that.

    But¡­

    It called to me. Grab me! it said, begging me to touch the glass contacts and see if it would finally let me die.

    My heart sped up, pounding in my chest with nervous anticipation. Would I do it? Would my life finally end tonight?

    ¡°FUCK!¡± I screamed, punching the wall, my three fingers crunching under the force of the blow.

    That¡¯s good. Pain keeps the mind sharp. And a sharp mind is a rational mind.

    I stumbled out and away from the containment chamber.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Daryll called, trying to keep up as I practically ran from the room, ¡°Are you ok? We just got good news. We have power! We can take showers, we can make actual food, shit man¡­ we can save humanity. What¡¯s not to be happy for?¡±

    ¡°Everything. All of this. The pain, the suffering, the endless death,¡± I mumbled, looking up at the man and seeing true concern carved into his features. ¡°It all started with fucking bone marrow. Did you know that? I killed my brother because he ate more than his share, and I¡¯ve paid the price for over a hundred thousand years. I left my siblings behind, watching from a distance as they died of old age while I remained, forever unchanging. Do you know how many times I¡¯ve fallen in love, had children, grandchildren? None of them are left. Entropy has taken them all from me. This world you¡¯ve built, it¡¯s all temporary. But me, I¡¯m not, I¡¯m eternal. You could stab me in the heart right now, and before you went back to the compound, I would be healed and ready to walk home with you. Injuries aren¡¯t permanent, merely an inconvenience, forgotten before anyone knew it was there.¡±

    I told him everything. I even told him about that one time on Mount Vesuvius. I still say that volcano would¡¯ve blown on its own. There was no way that my minor disturbance caused Pompeii to erupt. That¡¯s my story and I¡¯m sticking to it.

    When I finally finished telling my story and looked up at the man, I saw something that terrified me to my core. Daryll was in awe. Pure, unfiltered, grade A, awe.

    God dammit, I was extra screwed this time. There¡¯s no way my secret wasn¡¯t getting out.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°¡®Climb to the top¡¯, they said, ¡®it¡¯ll answer all your questions.¡¯¡± I grumbled, picking my way through the thick forest. After nearly six hours of walking, the last thing I wanted to do at the top of this mountain was ask questions. But how often do you get to confront a god?

    I¡¯d played at being a god several times in my life and fully expected whoever lived up here to be a charlatan. But, on the off chance it really was a god; perhaps this person could help me. Maybe, just maybe, this person could bring my brothers and sister back.

    I leaned against one of the many trees and took a moment to really think about what I was doing. On the off chance this person could bring them back, would they even want it? This world was nothing like the one they knew. Hell, nearly everything short of fire would be new to them¡­ would it be too much?

    A glowing stone around my neck constantly reminded me of my sin and the finger bones beside it were a constant reminder of my loss. The only place where that world of ice and snow still survived is in my memory. Part of me thought my family should remain at rest, but another part¡ªa much more selfish part¡ªdidn¡¯t care. If they returned, at least I wouldn¡¯t be alone.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    With a sigh, I began picking my way through the trees once more, continuing on the path until the forest broke to reveal a large, flat mountaintop.

    Honestly, I was unimpressed. Instead of the large temple to the gods, there was a simple stone house with a forge and anvil outside the door. Strangely, the forge wasn¡¯t stoked by a bellows like so many other smiths. Instead, a large clay pipe led down into the heart of the mountain and allowed the liquid fire of Hephaestus himself to bubble up and heat the metal. Standing at the anvil was a man in a dark smock, pounding an ingot into a shape only he knew. After a few hits, he grabbed the metal with a pair of tongs and submerged it into the fire. A few seconds later, he removed the metal to continue working it into the piece of art it would one day become.

    ¡°Are you the man that would call himself a god?¡± I said, stepping up to the strange forge and staring into the flames.

    ¡°I am a man. I forge works of art from the very blood of Gaia herself. Whether you see me as a god is entirely your decision, though¡­ some would say that I am.¡±

    Great, not only did he believe he was a god, but he knew others thought so as well.

    ¡°Well then, god of the mountain, I was told you could answer the question burning in my heart.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve answered many questions. Ask away, wanderer. But know this: the answers you seek are often not the answer you desire.¡±

    Reaching a hand to my throat, I touched the stone that hung there as a perpetual memory. I¡¯d intended to ask if he could bring my family back from the dead or craft a blade capable of killing a god, but now¡­ now I wasn¡¯t sure. I¡¯d walked for nearly six hours, contemplating what I would ask. Now that I was here, the plans I¡¯d laid were coming apart at the seams, and questions I¡¯d hidden in my heart since before language could express them

    ¡°Why me? Why was I chosen to bear the weight of so much time? Must I continue to fight while so many rest?¡±

    ¡°The answer to that is simple,¡± he said, lifting the now thin piece of metal and moving back to his anvil. ¡°It''s because you were the only one strong enough to bear it. No other person in your history had held the strength you need just to wake up every day. You¡¯re haunted by things you¡¯ve seen, and things you¡¯ve done. Sorrow flows from you in waves while you cling to a single thread of hope.¡±

    "My family is gone, and these bones are the only thing that remains!" I exclaimed as I ripped the leather necklace from my neck and presented it to the false god. ¡°The only thing I want in this world is for them to return to my side. I¡¯m tired of being alone.¡±

    ¡°The issue isn¡¯t that you¡¯re alone. The issue is that you¡¯ve convinced yourself that you are. If no one cared for you, then who told you about this place? We are not solitary creatures. People care about others in need. Once you let go of the past and embrace the world for what it is, the sooner you¡¯ll realize that.¡±

    The smith motioned with his hammer towards the fiery liquid and made sure that I understood before continuing his work.

    I stared at the ancient necklace in my hand. It was something I¡¯d carried for so long that it was strange to consider not having it. The smith was right, and I knew it. If I didn¡¯t give up the past and move on, the only thing I could ever find would be sorrow.

    According to the reports, a new leader was rising to power. If ever there was a time to forget the past, it was while a new future was being formed from the ashes of the old.

    According to the history books, the mountain top¡ªand by extension the smithery of the gods¡ªwas destroyed less than a century later.

    ~~**~~

    I wish I could¡¯ve been there; I wish I could¡¯ve witnessed what happened when the accountants came for the survivors. Sadly, I was busy reliving the worst memories of my life in the service tunnels of New York instead of standing beside my people. I didn¡¯t witness these events, but gathered the stories from the others and assembled them so the record can remain unbroken, and it went a little something like this:

    ¡°Hey Throat-punch! I think we found those tax-dodgers!¡± an accountant dressed in leathers said from the passenger seat of his hover car. On the street below, a building they hadn¡¯t cleared yet was glowing like the days before the collapse. The bright lights ¡ª while an asset in most situations ¡ª glowed with such intensity that it was impossible to miss. ¡°That whole fuckin¡¯ building just lit up like a Christmas tree.¡±

    ¡°I hear ya, Razor-lips. Let¡¯s get the others and come back,¡± Throat-Punch said, adjusting the mouth hole in his gimp mask before turning the air-car back toward their base. The Accountants had looked for the rebellious survivors for weeks. Now, they¡¯d finally made a mistake. It was time to collect taxes.

    ~~**~~

    Two hours later, six air-cars descended outside the survivor¡¯s front door. Throat-punch chuckled, imagining the reaction of the civilians inside when they saw his fleet coming in for the kill. It would be like facing a politician after uncovering a trail of embezzled funds. First, they would panic and struggle. Then, they would submit in defeat.

    Like the first time he¡¯d encountered the survivors, Razor-lips jumped out of the car before it landed. It was a stupid move, but it looked cool to him and that¡¯s what counts. Over the past twelve weeks, the accountant had learned just how useful intimidation tactics could be.

    It was a tool commonly used by conquerors throughout all human history. The fear of death¡ªor worse¡ªwas too great for most to consider, and those who did often found themselves in a place of darkness worse than the danger before them. Throat-punch was just glad they¡¯d found enough leather jackets and masks to make their efforts meaningful. Without them, their visage wouldn¡¯t command the respect needed for survival.

    ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± Throat-punch yelled at the goons as they charged into the buildings with weapons drawn.

    He really hoped the attack caught their prey, terrified and off guard. He respected his fellow accountants, but most of the gang had never even held a weapon before the fall. Despite all their pent-up frustration and rage over a missing penny, they really were shit fighters.

    In the end, goons only dragged a few people out of the building. Four wasn¡¯t enough considering the number of people that needed to eat, but it was better than nothing. The longer his men stayed in there, the more likely it was the survivors would find out what they really were. Paper tigers dressed in scary clothing.

    Flipping on the external speaker, Throat-punch addressed anyone that was listening. ¡°Hey losers! It¡¯s cool that you got the power on, but you need to get some weapons¡­ and maybe a few defenses. I mean, really, we got four of yours with no effort! I like it when my prey resists, and you¡¯re taking the fun out of my hunt!¡±

    The speaker went quiet as Razor-lips tied his catch¡ªan older man that Throat-punch just knew would taste stringy¡ªto the hood of the car and climbed inside.

    ¡°I like you guys. You taste like fear and determination all rolled into one, but you don¡¯t give us the thrill we crave. If we get bored with you, what¡¯s stopping us from patrolling the city? You know there¡¯s nobody at the walls to hold the Mutated back anymore, right? Without us, they would find your little building in a matter of days. Actually, that would be like dinner and a movie, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± His laughter only stopped when a flaming bottle flew out of a fourth-story window.

    It shattered, soaking one of their cars and its riders in burning liquid.

    Trying to ignore the screams, Throat-punch hit the throttle and sent the car into the air. They were supposed to be harmless; they were supposed to be weak. They were supposed to run and maybe throw a rock or two. All his taunting was to demoralize them, not bring them together into a fighting unit. How dare they defy him. How dare they strike their betters.

    Two more bottles hurtled toward another car. The first landed in the passenger seat, blasting the driver with flames before he could take off. The second bottle smashed into the driver''s crotch, adding to the fire that already encompassed him.

    This was not the plan! This was not how it was supposed to go! Now, they¡¯d lost two air-cars and only gotten four sacks of meat in return. The lost cars would sting, especially since their power was directly related to how well they could move around the city. At least now there were fewer mouths to feed.

    When the last air car flew into the air, Throat-punch gave the signal to leave, determined to return and punish the survivors.

 Wanderer - Chapter 53

    Twelve weeks, an evening and four kidnappings after the fall.

    The way back home was long and uneventful. If someone forced me to describe it, the only way to do so would be to say that it was boring. As we walked down the now lit hallways leading to our building, I finally noticed what felt weird about the entire ordeal.

    ¡°None of these power cables are metal,¡± I said, catching up to Sparky.

    ¡°Yeah, and?¡±

    ¡°And you need metal as a conductor to move power.¡± I was trying not to look at her like she was stupid, but she was making it hard.

    ¡°If you¡¯re transporting electricity from a thousand years ago, sure, but these days we use a type of fiber optic cable to transport the stored energy of Light into the building in question.¡± She the worn lettering on the cables while explaining that there was a panel in the basement of each building that converted optical power to metallic. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you failed out of school a few times?¡±

    Of course, it would be some kind of magic bullshit like that. Every time I stepped away from human development for a few hundred years, they revolutionized everything. Who said they could find a new way to transport power without my permission? Stupid humans.

    We eventually found the hidden service entrance we¡¯d used to enter the tunnel system earlier that day. Sparky knew where it was, but she was the only one. If she¡¯d left us behind, there was nothing any of us could¡¯ve done about it. Well, I guess I would¡¯ve found a way out. I always find a way out¡­ eventually.

    When I climbed through the doorway and into the basement, I honestly expected some sort of party, celebration, or even to be treated like royalty, but everyone that greeted us just seemed sad and hopeless.

    ¡°Hey! WWe got the power back, we can¡­ you know¡­ see and stuff.¡± I said, trying to break the mood at least a little.

    ¡°Yeah, well¡­ I would be a lot more excited if the accountants hadn¡¯t shown up right afterwards,¡± one survivor said when we climbed back up to the living floors.

    ¡°Was anyone hurt?¡± I asked seriously.

    ¡°Four people were taken. They found us not long after the lights came on. I threw a few Molotovs at their air-cars, but they managed to get away with our people,¡± Chuck said, motioning for me to follow him toward the stairwell.

    I was pissed. We shouldn¡¯t have left; we shouldn¡¯t have restored power. It wasn¡¯t that important, and the survivors could have continued living without it. I lived for thousands of years without a single fucking lightbulb. They could too, if they had to.

    It wasn¡¯t right. It wasn¡¯t fair. We¡¯d fought so hard to build what little we had, and these worthless assholes showed up to take what wasn¡¯t theirs? The human population was already too small to be sustainable. Being forced to watch as someone you know and love got dragged away by murderers would only crush the spirits of those who remained.

    Every. Damned. Time.

    Every time I built something, someone else¡¯s desire for power perverted it. Every time I tried to remain peaceful and away from conflict, someone always dragged me back in. Every time I took to a battlefield, people on both sides died. But not me, never me. I would not let this happen again. I would not let the people I choose to protect be eaten by idiots who were too stupid to grow their own food.

    ¡°We need better fortifications,¡± I said when the door closed. ¡°The office equipment we¡¯ve piled up around the building is a start, but it¡¯s not protecting us where it counts.¡±

    ¡°I was going to say something similar. We need to send groups out in search of big chunks of metal to block the windows on the lower floors. If they can find some stone as well, it would be even better. That way, it could act as a barrier to slow down anyone attacking the building.¡± Chuck replied, all levity gone from his tone.

    He was pissed too.

    Good.

    ¡°Start looking for long pieces of wood and instruct the camp-bound survivors to embed them with nails, barbed wire, fucking shards of glass if we need to. No matter what the answer is, make spiked clubs. We don¡¯t have much in terms of guns, but we can make them bleed for every step they take.¡± I instructed.

    I was already planning my weapon. I found a three-foot-long stainless-steel dildo in an old nightclub and had kept it for a rainy day. Not that I thought I would ever use the thing, but a massive metal penis would, at the very least, be an icebreaker when humanity started having parties again.

    ¡°Vandre, if we kill these people¡­ we¡¯re no better than them.¡±

    ¡°Chuck, if we don¡¯t, our people are going to be eaten by a group that resorted to cannibalism after only twelve weeks. They had food in that store. I¡¯d be willing to bet much of it is still there.¡±

    I had to make the dildo easy to swing. The handling was easy. I could wrap the base in the over-grip tape we found in a sporting goods store a few weeks ago. But more deadly? Maybe I could convince someone to drill holes in it and drive nails at random intervals. I could even call the weapon ¡®my Prince Albert.¡¯

    ¡°Fair point. Do we defend, or do we go on the offensive?¡±

    He was trying to sound brave, but I saw the look in his eyes when he said it. Chuck didn¡¯t want to fight, and he definitely didn¡¯t want to take another human¡¯s life.

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t go on the offensive. I do.¡± I turned on my heels and walked toward the stairwell, whistling a tune. Most people from this era wouldn¡¯t recognize it. The song was old, but it was incredibly appropriate for the situation. I would storm the barricade, and I would bring back the world I longed to see.

    ~~**~~

    I sat alone in the Tuileries Garden, scratching at my notebook with my quill in infrequent bursts as I tried to make the words flow, but, try as I might, the image in my head could not materialize as words fit for the stage. It didn¡¯t make sense. This wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d recorded my thoughts, and it probably wouldn¡¯t be my last.

    In the distance, the unrest of my adopted countrymen grew louder, and the aristocracy did everything it could to ignore their voices. It was hard not to understand why the people were angry. The gulf between rich and poor had grown from a pond into an ocean, and people who¡¯d once fallen into the middle class had become truly poor.

    It was not rare to find me here, sitting on a bench overlooking the gardens of Queen Catherine while I worked at perfecting the art of the written word. In fact, one could almost say it was commonplace for many Parisians to sit here while they turned a blank page or canvas into an artistic masterpiece.

    Strangely, I didn''t hear the scratching of quills or the whisper of brush on canvas around me. Instead, a haunting stillness blanketed the garden, broken only by the shouts of people who¡¯d reached their breaking point and were boiling over like a pot left on the stove. I stopped trying to force the words to come when those shouts changed to the crack of gunfire. In my heart, I¡¯d hoped death was avoidable, but it seemed the reaper would have his due.

    I closed my notebook, corked my inkwell, and tried to head home to avoid joining the fight. But I knew I would see bloodshed this day. I knew it the moment I saw the look in the groundskeeper''s eyes when he let me out of the gate. The rational part of me wanted to go home, but instead of walking south, I walked north along Rue Montmorter toward the gunfire.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The street was never this quiet, nor this abandoned. It was as if the gods of old and new had come down and taken away every soul other than me and the groundskeeper. These roads were never silent. These people were never timid. So why was it that I only caught glimpses of people from the corner of my eye as they nervously peeked through drawn curtains?

    It could be because the champion of the poor had fallen to the same illness that was currently ravaging the city. Possibly, they didn¡¯t know where they stood regarding the monarchy and the stability it had provided in the past, or Bonaparte and the sweeping growth he¡¯d brought. Maybe some saw themselves as Republicans who wanted laws for people, not policy for the rich. Sadly, it was impossible to tell where a person truly stood until they did so with a rifle in hand.

    When I reached the corner of Passage Du Saumon, I instinctually turned right and followed the growing sounds of war. No matter how long I¡¯ve lived, the sound of war never truly changed. The implements we humans used to kill each other evolved, but the sound of a soldier dying while his compatriots watched¡ªunable to help¡ªwould always remain the same. War was a symphony, and death was but one of the many layers that made it truly awful to behold.

    The near constant crack of gunfire fell silent as I passed barricades made of anything the rebels could find. If I saw even one person guarding the two-meter-tall stacks of refuse, I may have turned and left. Instead, the only movement on Rue du Bont du Monde that day was from a pair of rats fighting over a scrap of moldy bread that had fallen in the street.

    In a heartbeat, everything changed. The barricades at either end of the street ground against the concrete as tables, chairs, even a piano or two fell into place and trapped me between the two armies. Bullets flew, and I scrambled to find cover in the stone archway of a shop and tried to wait out the battle. Projectiles from both sides struck me in the stomach and in the back, but I had to act as though they hadn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t matter to these people, and there was nothing I could do to change the course of history as it formed around me. I was just an immortal, caught in the goings on of an everyday human.

    I honestly believed that the first ten minutes. Then the door of a nearby shop opened, and a young boy no more than ten years old dashed toward the Republican rebels. In his hand was a satchel that jingled like a sack of pennies as he ran. Safety was just four meters away when he fell with a royalist bullet in his back. He¡¯d almost made it. Instead, he would die in the street with the black, spherical symbols of his sacrifice scattered on the cobblestones around him.

    I said earlier that it was impossible to tell where a person stood until they did so with a rifle in their hands, but I was wrong. A person truly shows what they stand for when they do it, knowing they will die. That boy had given his life for the hope that France would one day be for the people instead of the aristocracy. It was only then I realized it was impossible for me to know what I stood for. What would it matter to me if I stepped aside and let tyranny reign? If I waited long enough, the tyrant would die, and I would be free to live as I wished.

    No matter what I did, I realized I could never truly make a sacrifice in the name of freedom, and I wept.

    ~~**~~

    Dinner that night was silent. It wasn¡¯t the first time these people suffered loss, but it was the first time it happened since the fall. Joining this group was supposed to be a new start, the beginning of a life rebuilt. Instead, they had to face the reality that bad people did bad things. Something about that deafening silence reminded me of the stillness in those Parisian streets moments before gunfire ripped through the city. But unlike that time so long ago, we had no revolutionaries, only refugees. Where were the people so set in their convictions that they would rather die than face another day in fear? Were all our warriors already in the stars, fighting for the freedom of people who saw them as little more than faceless drones?

    I understood loss. In fact, I was certain I¡¯d faced that monster more often¡ªand more completely¡ªthan anyone else. Yes, it hurt to get knocked down. And yes, it was never fun to watch people get killed while you could do nothing about it. But dammit, I did not spend twelve weeks teaching myself to care just so these people could throw themselves from the proverbial cliff.

    Some were willing to defend their lives and the lives of others, but others seemed willing to roll over and die. Though, I had enormous respect for the grandmother on the fifth floor that spent her free time stuffing rags in vodka bottles while repeatedly muttering to let the swine come.

    I glanced around the room again to gauge the mood and was just as disappointed as I was ten minutes ago. Most people sat in groups of three, scarfing down their soup like someone would take it away at any minute. Someone had even turned the lights low, diminishing the accomplishment of creating power, out of fear.

    It was infuriating. Sure, I¡¯d done my fair share of hiding in my life, but when it really came down to it, I always took another step forward.

    If this were the New York I knew from so long ago, there would be no peace. The Americans of old wouldn¡¯t hide in a building, afraid to take back what was theirs. No, they would fight tooth and nail to reclaim what they¡¯d lost. Then again, the Americans of the past had nothing on the French. Nobody revolts like the French.

    There was a man I respected back then. Someone who fought for freedom, and not this watered down crap they had before the fall. If he could see what humanity had done with his beliefs, he wouldn¡¯t cry¡­ No, he would tear it down brick by brick until he could rebuild it again for the people. A government could not be for the people if the people serving in it have never worked outside the government. It could not allow the lowly to flourish if it rewarded the rich for the work of the poor. New ideas could not be cultivated if the government was ruled by religion instead of science.

    The tree of Liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.

    Thomas wasn¡¯t a perfect man. In many ways, he wasn¡¯t even a good man, but he tried, and that¡¯s what counts.

    Earth was free of tyranny for the first time in a long time now that UHR oversight was gone. But instead of building ourselves up to create a world of peace, liberty, and justice, we cowered inside an office building and waited for another tyrant.

    ¡°What is wrong with you all, huh?¡± I screamed, hurling my plate across the room. It would be a pain to clean up the broken glass, but at least I had their attention. ¡°Someone just came into YOUR HOUSE. They walked in, took your brother, mother, sister, or father, and walked away. Do you know what¡¯s about to happen to them? They¡¯re about to be eaten. You¡¯re survivors, but you¡¯re not surviving. You¡¯re free from tyranny and the first thing you do is bow down to more tyranny. What is wrong with you?¡±

    ¡°Just let us die. If you want to leave and live, do it. But let us die.¡± An old man sitting against the wall said. ¡°If you think we still have any kind of fighting spirit, then you obviously didn¡¯t lose as much as we did in the fall.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, shaking my head at the absurdity of the statement. ¡°You made it through the end of Earth as we know it, through the worst part of human history, and now you just want to lie down and die? You did the hard part already! Stand up and take your life back!¡±

    ¡°If we made it through the hard part, then why hasn¡¯t anyone come to save us? Why is it so bad out there? If we stand up to the accountants, what¡¯s stopping a new group from forming next week?¡±

    I¡¯m not ashamed to say that I was beyond words at this point. My rage was so complete that my only good option was to walk away. If I continued to argue, things would have gotten physical, and I wasn¡¯t prepared to take it that far. Laying down to die was not the human way. We¡¯ve survived entirely too many catastrophes for that. It would appall heroes throughout history to see what was going on here, and I wouldn¡¯t blame them. Our race, a people that fought their way out of the mud and into sentience, couldn¡¯t gather enough courage to fight the good fight.

    I guess this is what happens when all your fighters join an off-planet military. You lose anyone that could be bothered to lift a finger, much less a rifle.

    , it was possible to see the bloodstains that would forever stain the carpet, but in the dark you could pretend none of it ever happened. Most people worked to scrub those stains out and forget about the people who¡¯d died in the building because, obviously, cleaning away the stench of death made it magically better. Clearly, the only issue with historic landmarks where death clung to it like a blanket was a lack of cleanliness.

    I raised my hand and stared at a long, jagged scar that crossed my palm. It was from the time before I became immortal and was one of the few physical flaws my body retained. Every time I looked at it, it reminded me of the only true persisting state in life. Solitude.

    I didn¡¯t want to leave the survivors, but someone had to protect what little life remained in this world. While my absence, however short, might leave them in a state of disarray, there was a chance it wouldn¡¯t. They could rise to defend themselves, but I doubted it. All I could do was hope.

    Rolling over, I closed my eyes. This could very well be my last night in a proper bed for quite some time, and I was determined to enjoy every second.

    But sleep never lasted long enough. I woke up a few scant hours later. Most of the survivors were likely asleep, and the ones who weren¡¯t were likely more concerned with themselves than me. I grabbed the nail studded metal shaft from the corner of my room and climbed to the roof of our building. I knew where the Accountants were hiding. I¡¯d been there before.

    Taking a running jump, I flung myself from the roof and basked in the joy of flight. It was never long enough. The feeling just before impact always tricked me into believing I might be free of my curse. One day, maybe. But sadly, not today.

    Pain reverberated through my body, shaking me to my core as bones shattered and skin split. I dropped my head and clenched my teeth, breathing out slowly as I waited for the curse to restore my me. I tried to pretend the damage I received was inconsequential, but that wasn¡¯t true. Just because my body could recover from any injury didn¡¯t mean the injury didn¡¯t occur.

    pulling themselves back into position and snapping into place. They say you never get past the sensation of pain¡ªand to an extent, that was true. At a certain point, the pain of broken bones became so dull it was possible to ignore it completely.

    Tightening my grip on the club, I walked down the street. I was ready for battle. If they wouldn¡¯t fight, then I would solve the problem myself.

 Wanderer - Chapter 54

    Twelve weeks, an ungodly hour, and a choice after the fall.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked the night sky as I walked down the street. ¡°Why is it that humans only show their true colors when all the cards are on the table? Can¡¯t they summon courage as easily as they summon fear or anger?¡±

    It was a rare night, but nights like this were becoming more common the longer the world remained in chaos. The stars were breaking through the pollution for the first time in a very long time, and the smell of salt water drifted along a light breeze. It wasn¡¯t enough to make my dress billow, but it felt nice against my skin.

    It was proof that good could still be found in a terrible world, if I was willing to look. Usually, I found that goodness in others. In their willingness to care, to lend a helping hand, and to enjoy simply being alive. Even in this blasted hellscape the planet had become, parts of humanity thrived because of that innate desire to raise each other up. But Humans could be strange creatures. They could be brave enough to fight a god one minute, and break under the emotional pressure of loss in the next. It was a paradox they would never acknowledge, but they would always embrace.

    I was so lost in my thoughts that I found myself outside a nondescript building several blocks away from where I started. A long tear marred the side of the building as if struck by the hand of an angry god.

    It was the same building Jim and I looted the day the Accountants took him. After that rage inducing event, I started stockpiling random weapons in an apartment just in case the survivors decided to one day stand up and fight. The chance was low, but tonight had proven just how useful that level of forethought could be.

    From the looks of it, the building itself was still perfect for hiding things without fear of them being found. Most of the walls were broken, the doors turned to splinters, and a stench of death clung to it like a graveyard.

    The smell had nothing to do with the exploded corpse in the stairwell.

    I climbed the broken stairs, carefully picking my way across the refuse until I reached the seventeenth-floor landing. The dented steel door squealed in pain and opened to reveal the hallway beyond, and closed behind me as I counted the doors. I stopped at the sixth door on the right, pausing for a moment to ensure the tape I¡¯d placed on the doorframe was still there before turning the handle and walking into the apartment beyond.

    Inside, broken pieces of furniture were all that remained of the people who¡¯d once called this place home. The floor creaked under my weight as I made my way into the second bedroom and stared at the small armory I¡¯d built over the past twelve weeks. I had all my weapons laid out on a blood-soaked mattress, waiting for someone to pick them up and defend those who couldn''t defend themselves. I, of course, was that someone.

    Most of these weapons were useless creations I built from spare parts that were more likely to cause a foe confusion rather than pain. Despite my efforts, I couldn''t turn fruit into a boomerang, even if that fruit was a plastic wrapped banana lined with razor blades. A few others looked useful in combat, but there were a particular few that really caught my eye.

    Despite its origin as a massive dildo, the heavy material and nails made it a wonderful weapon for going on the offensive. But that also meant there was no reason to bring the other weapons I¡¯d made from various objects around the city.

    I felt the comforting weight of ¡°Cindy¡± in my hands. Part of me wanted the flail with a spiked doll¡¯s head on the end of a chain, but I knew it was much more effective to bring the equivalent of a baseball bat instead of a flimsy ball and chain that would break after only a few swings. Turning to walk out of the room, I tucked a box knife into a hidden weapon belt under my dress. It would be much less useful in a straight fight, but it provided me with a blade I could use in a tight spot if needed.

    I climbed stairs stained with dried blood and stepped out onto the roof. It hadn¡¯t been long since I¡¯d left the survivors¡¯ building, but the primal urge to see the sky was strong tonight. The moon and her stars looked down at me, judging me for what was soon to come. Would she mark me as worthy and finally let me die? Or would I be cursed to remain here for so much longer? Part of me wanted the curse to end so I could experience that last human mystery. But another, more savage part, wanted to hunt the threat plaguing my home.

    Despite my insistence on disappearing into the wild, the hunter took over. Pent up rage from multiple generations of advice bubbled up inside me, tearing at the walls of my restraint like a rabid dog.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it funny?¡± I asked the night sky, hoping that my mother was truly listening from the other side. ¡°It¡¯s like a bad comedy, really. The caveman going into battle with little more than a heavy stick. For that is what I am, the eternal joke. Forced to live on so gods can have someone to laugh at. In most stories, I am the villain. They see me as the great betrayer of man, the cursed murderer. But worse people than I walk this earth every day, and yet I¡¯m the one that cannot be laid to rest?¡±

    I knew the moon wouldn¡¯t answer me. She never did. But on some level, it almost felt like I was back with my family as we talked about the world around us. My brother would¡¯ve understood what I did that night. It was the way of our world back then. Survival of the fittest was more than just a saying when the very earth and everything on it wanted you dead.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    An unearthly screech cut through the silence of the night and sent chills up my spine. Anyone that¡¯s lived beyond the city limit knew that sound, and it was one I hoped never would have breached the city.

    Twisted creatures stumbled down the street, their mutated bodies making it hard to walk. I wanted to feel sorry for them, to return them to their natural bodies, but I knew what they really were. As one passed the broken remnants of a car, it reached down and tore the door off with sickening ease and sniffed inside.

    Some creatures were just trying to survive in a terrible world, but many had embraced their barbaric nature and become hunters. Living outside safe zones as a farmer was dangerous because of their existence. If they wouldn¡¯t have become such a health hazard, farming would probably become a much more popular career.

    A creature with a dog-like face and a human body dropped to all fours and sniffed the ground, looking for a human scent. If it was looking for us, it would be out of luck. We hadn¡¯t been in this part of the city in weeks, and the trail was long gone by now.

    Except for¡­

    It hit me. They¡¯d caught wind of my trail and were following it to this building. When they finished searching and found nothing for the effort, they would follow my scent back to the survivors. Because why wouldn¡¯t the mutated bastards find me? Out of all the smells on the street, they found and tracked mine. Fantastic.

    I had to get back; I had to warn them.

    Sure, their cowardice bothered me and was ultimately the reason I¡¯d left, but being a coward was no reason to be killed. They were all but defenseless. Their only real protection was nothing but a few flaming cocktails and whatever weapons they could find on the fly.

    They had nothing.

    Tearing my gaze from the street below, I looked back at the stairwell. If I moved quickly and stayed out of their way, I could get back to the survivors before the mutated creatures had a chance to attack. There was no other option. I had enjoyed my stay in society and I couldn¡¯t turn my back now.

    I didn¡¯t hear the door close behind me when I turned to go down the stairs; I was far too distracted to notice the lack of a click as it closed. I didn¡¯t hear the footsteps behind me, matching pace with my own, as I tore down the stairs in fear for a people I wanted to see flourish in this new world.

    I felt the cloth against my nose.

    Then, nothing.

    ~~**~~

    ~ The increase in illness in the US is due to high pollution levels in natural waterways, according to top CDC scientists¡­ ~

    ~¡­ storms are getting bigger and more powerful. Some believe it is the natural cycle of the planet, but research suggests that a severe reduction of emissions could lessen the effects with time¡­~

    ~¡­ strange mutations have been found in families that have lived near nuclear sites for multiple generations. Some say it¡¯s science, but we here at Hound News say that it''s clearly a punishment for a sinful lifestyle¡­~

    ¡°Why the hell haven¡¯t they figured it out yet?¡± I asked the walls of my empty apartment, not expecting or wanting an answer.

    People say the law of unintended consequence always rears its head at the most inopportune time, but this was just too much. It amazed me that so many people still clung to a belief system I made up thousands of years ago to seize and hold power. Why they couldn¡¯t see past the obvious issues and hypocrisy of my church, I¡¯ll never know. I mean, really, I built a church based on love that actively sought to kill anyone that didn¡¯t believe the same. Anyone can see how screwed up that is, but the moment you put something on old paper and claim it was written by a god, people will twist the message until it¡¯s unrecognizable from its source.

    The news was more of the same. Pestilence, war, famine, and death raged across the planet and people were so numb to the experience they thought it was just another day. People shy away from talking about the current ecological shifts, often staunchly pretending the world has always been the same. The problem is that it hasn¡¯t. This planet has survived several periods of glaciation, but life on its surface never seems to make it through without enduring deep scars. In fact, the humans of today look and act radically differently from my own ancestors.

    Sadly, even faced with intrinsic proof of evolution, creationists will still prefer the lie.

    I pushed the button to turn off the screen and stood up from the mat I used as a chair while grabbing the still full beer I¡¯d forgotten to drink.

    The city before me was the grandest thing a sapient creature ever built on this planet. From where I stood, I could see all three rings and the temple to the gods of old. I could see the port. A lone vessel sat perfectly still in waters that hadn¡¯t seen the light of day in thousands of years. Around me, magnificent buildings of white stone ended in twisting spires that could never again see the stars.

    But wasn''t that the plan all along? When the beings who gave this world life were ready for their project to take on a life of their own had left, they sunk this place and buried it in stone. They did not destroy it; they hid it. Purposely tucking it away so they could hide its power for all time. What better place for an immortal to call home?

    I leaned against the wall and stared at the rocky dome above and thought about the people on the far away surface. They¡¯d broken the world through willful ignorance and were now paying the cost. Years of pollution, deforestation, and expansion had led to a near catastrophic shift in the planet¡¯s weather patterns. Even without extreme weather, some places still faced disastrous problems.

    The families changed by those nuclear sites wouldn¡¯t just die off. They would continue to populate those areas, spreading and changing the world one generation at a time. Could this be the next step in evolution? Possibly, but it was much more likely it would end in a spur race that society would shun like rats.

    And that could be a problem. At a certain point, people would no longer see these people as human. They would start hunting them for sport, or treat them like a nuisance that needed to be disposed of. In the end, these mutated beings would be little more than animals, surviving on base urges and a desire to mate.

    Was it time to go back to the world of man? I¡¯d spent nearly six hundred years down here, refusing to return to the surface. They had the Mars colony. If life on Earth got too bad, they could just leave and let me enjoy my barren rock. Maybe one of these world changing scientists I¡¯ve seen on the news could do something.

    Perhaps it was time to return to The Library and find out if the ancients ever faced an issue like this. Certainly there was at least one tome capable of revealing the secret to containing mutations. If not, then it would appear that 2571 would mark the beginning of true solitude from which I could never escape.

 Wanderer - Chapter 55

    Twelve weeks, a day, and a chloroform nap after the fall.

    Slowly regaining consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the smell. The stench of unwashed bodies and human excrement filled my nose and made me want to vomit. Reflexively trying to cover my face, I felt the sharp edge of restraints holding my hands like a clothed Vitruvian man.

    Somewhere nearby, a fire cracked and popped, occasionally letting out a high-pitched whine as the chemicals trapped in its fuel burned away. Above that, I could hear the murmur of voices broken by bouts of sadistic laughter as my jailers tortured their victims.

    Then I heard it. The rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh, followed by animalistic grunting, proved a suspicion I¡¯d had for a long time about this gang and its members. Survivors came here in search of food, clothing, and shelter, but money was worthless when society was in shambles. As a result, people paid with the only thing they had; themselves.

    I didn¡¯t have to see what was happening around me to know what I¡¯d find. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d been part of a flesh farm, and it likely wouldn¡¯t be the last. These people had gone feral in a matter of months and proven just how quickly society could crumble when personal direction was lost.

    The first thing I noticed upon opening my eyes was the state of destruction. Grocery store freezers flipped on their sides and their doors propped open to make makeshift beds. Broken shelves and the occasional piece of actual furniture used as tables and chairs. Not a single aisle was intact, and it was clear that any foodstuff from before the fall had long since been eaten.

    Some aisle dividers were used to create lean-to¡¯s while others were encased in barbed wire to make cells for those destined to become dinner. Above, the corporate plaster tiling was black with soot from poorly ventilated fires.

    All this paled in comparison to the accountants themselves. Wrapped in leather that was never intended for use outside of a sex dungeon, nearly every person looked like someone straight out of a BDSM parody. One even wore a mask with chrome zippers over the eyes and a ring that promised easy access to his mouth.

    Last time I saw these idiots, I tried not to laugh at how stupid they looked in their pitiful effort to be intimidating. This was no different.

    ¡°Finally awake, are we?¡± a familiar voice said.

    When the man came into view, I didn¡¯t feel an immediate rush of anger. Instead, I simply felt resigned. It was obvious, really. They had a man on the inside, and his name was Daryll.

    ¡°Awake is a bit of a stretch. The bed was lumpy, and I have an ache in my back. If anything, I need to speak to a manager about my sleeping arrangements,¡± I said, grunting as I tried to break the ties holding my arms.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get right on that, but something tells me that customer service won¡¯t care too much about your feelings.¡±

    ¡°What a shame. You know, most businesses live and die on customer reviews. What are people going to think when I tell them how rude and unaccommodating you are?¡± I didn¡¯t really care who he was or why he was here. All I wanted was to waste his time. The longer I kept him occupied, the longer he was away from the other people they¡¯d captured.

    ¡°We have operatives in every one of the survivor camps around town, and we use your generosity and mild nature as our key to the camps. I¡¯ve been with your group for weeks, but I¡¯m willing to bet that today was the first time you¡¯ve ever truly noticed that I was there,¡± He monologued.

    ¡°I mean¡­ To be fair, I still have no clue who you are. Even after our conversations, I know very little about you and I don¡¯t really want to know it either.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the point. No matter how many times people actually talked to me, I remained in the background. While you slept, I stole food and brought it back here. Nobody even thought to complain about the guy volunteering to be awake all night.¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah, do you think you were the only one stealing food from the collective? The reason we started the gardens in the first place was because there wasn¡¯t enough food to go around. People are sneaking around every day and every night, attempting to fill their bellies with more than a few mouthfuls of food. It¡¯s not just you; it¡¯s parents, couples, caregivers, anyone that is concerned for their families, really. I¡¯ve seen them coming and going. The people stealing food are rarely the same ones eating it. But at the rate they¡¯re consuming the rations, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if our community eventually turns on each other.¡±

    ¡°Good, we need society to continue crumbling. If we¡¯re really lucky, they¡¯ll tear each other¡¯s throats out and eat the bodies for the chance at a proper meal.¡±

    ¡°And where would that leave you once they start hunting people?¡± I asked, knowing these fools hadn¡¯t thought it through.

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll be fine. I have it on good authority that our latest acquisition regenerates every time he gets hurt.¡±

    Fuck.

    ~~**~~

    It didn¡¯t take long for the sick bastards to line up with knives drawn and ready to carve a hunk of meat from me. They expected me to resist, and I would¡¯ve probably fought much harder if I hadn¡¯t experienced something like this before.

    I struck a conversation with them when I could. Not only did my indifference to being mutilated make them uncomfortable, but I figured that a conversation with your meal can really ruin an appetite. Their eyes said it all. The longer I stood and took the knife without protest, the more the feeling of unease intensified. But they were starving, and I was the most convenient source of food available.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°The best way to cook thigh is with low heat for several hours. It keeps the meat tender and juicy,¡± I said to a young man holding a fistful of my leg.

    ¡°That¡¯s fuckin weird, you know that?¡± he said, shuffling away uncomfortably.

    ¡°If you would¡¯ve given it a few more minutes, you could¡¯ve had a rump roast!¡± I shouted right as the next person in line took their pound of flesh.

    I felt myself bleeding out, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the power that kept me alive reared its ugly head once more. They¡¯d spent the last several hours cutting into me, but they¡¯d stopped hurting others once I became the main course. That was something, wasn¡¯t it?

    The line trickled away as the last of the accountants walked toward the fire with their prize. Not long after, sounds of merriment rang through the building while they feasted on my flesh. I was stuck and being used for food. It wasn¡¯t the worst thing I¡¯d ever experienced, but it certainly wasn¡¯t great. They kept it going for days, maybe weeks. Time blends when life is nothing other than agony.

    Every morning, a group of people would show up to carve off the choicest parts of my body while giggling. Clearly, they had a fascination with disfigurement, but were limited by the fear of prison before everything collapsed. When they weren¡¯t dissecting me like a middle school frog, I had to listen to the sounds of their debauchery.

    I tried to keep a blank face while they did their sick work, but it was incredibly painful. In the fugue of anguish, I had only one desire: to escape and destroy this place. I couldn¡¯t maintain the fa?ade for much longer. Between the pain and the knowledge of what was being done to the innocents as payment for a life off the street¡­ Well, it made me want to watch it all burn.

    I had an idea, but it would suck and the chances of it working were slim.

    If I could get a hand free¡­

    My dreamlike state of planning was ripped away as they pulled me back into reality, using only the voice of a particularly enthusiastic tormentor.

    ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t my favorite little meat bag. What¡¯s the best thing on the menu tonight?¡± Razor-lips moaned as he slid the tip of his knife across my body. When a drop of blood fell from a wound in the palm of my hand, the accountant gave an involuntary shiver and a cry of delight.

    The sexual fixation he felt from the knife was clear from the start, but the reaction to my hand was something new. It pained me to consider, but in that moment, I knew it would be easy to convince the man to cut it off. I hated losing a limb, especially since it took so long to match my skin tone, but in a situation like this, it was the best of the bad options.

    ¡°Hey there, Razor,¡± I said sensually, playing into his fantasy. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been thinking about something all day for you and I have an answer.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really?¡± He salivated, going visibly weak in the knees at the thought of inflicting pain on another person.

    ¡°Tell me, have you ever had hand?¡± I knew I was laying it on pretty thick, but he needed to cut off my hand if this plan was going to work.

    ¡°No¡­ I always thought it would be too much work with all those bones.¡± With a jerk, the accountant stabbed his knife into the meat of my palm. I wanted to scream, but doing so would bring more attention than I could afford to our conversation.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what makes it so good. Those finely tuned muscles are more tender than any other part of my body. It¡¯s exquisite, toss it in a stew, and the meat will just fall off of my bones.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s that good, I¡¯m going to enjoy every bite and probably come back for more tomorrow. If not, well, I¡¯ll just have to get another serving of penis like I had the other night.¡± I felt the tug of steel against flesh as my skin separated. It was slow, methodical, and the most excruciating thing I¡¯ve ever experienced. I felt my hand going slack as the connecting muscles and nerves were severed. In the end, the appendage was little more than the meat these sick bastards thought it was.

    When I say he took his time, I mean it. After thirty long minutes of cutting, the last fiber of skin gave way, and the hand was gone. My hand was free for the first time in days, but I had to keep my cool.

    ¡°Enjoy,¡± I said around clenched teeth. I could feel the power within already working its magic as blood stopped flowing and skin regrew. ¡°Let me know how that works out. Remember, hand needs to cook for several hours.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s perfectly fine,¡± he said, sucking on one of my fingers while staring at the healing skin. ¡°I¡¯ll be back for the other one if this is even half as good as you say.¡±

    Waving my digits in a sensual goodbye, Razor-lips walked away from my prison fully unaware of just how fully he¡¯d been played.

    Now, I could slip my arm free of the restraints.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Chuck!¡± a man gasped when he finally reached the leader of the survivors, ¡°Chuck, one of the Mutated found us. It was only a scout, but we¡¯ve confirmed that a large pack of them is about five blocks over.¡±

    ¡°Did you kill it?¡± Chuck asked, immediately breaking off his conversation with Rebbecca, the electrician.

    ¡°No, we captured it. One of Vandre¡¯s traps went off and caught it in the chest,¡± he replied, taking an offered cup of water and sucking it down in one motion.

    ¡°Kill it, and drag the body away from here. We can¡¯t have the main pack picking up its scent. When you¡¯re done, clean the front entrance of the building with bleach to eliminate as much of our odor as possible. It¡¯s not perfect, but maybe we can stay hidden just a little longer.¡± He said, turning to Rebbecca after the man was gone, ¡°What about the tunnels? Are they safe?¡±

    ¡°Safe and safe. Sure, we could live down there for a while, but the lack of space, food, water or even bathrooms would get old pretty fast.¡±

    ¡°Shit. What can we do?¡±

    ¡°I know nobody wants to hear it, but Vandre was right. We need to set more traps, make weapons, and build better defenses. And since we¡¯ve pissed away all our time, it needs to be done before tonight,¡± she said, scribbling her thoughts on an old dry erase board they¡¯d stolen from the office of a dead man.

    ¡°Dammit, we just want to live our lives.¡± Chuck sighed, dropping his head.

    ¡°Yeah, so do they. But it¡¯s kill or be killed around here. we need to make the hard calls. Seal the entrances to the building and place any big furniture we can pull together in front of the doors. We have some food on stockpile so there¡¯s no reason for anyone to leave for scavenging,¡± she explained.

    ¡°Yes, but people need to see the sun.¡±

    ¡°Then send them to the roof. I don¡¯t see how we have another choice at the moment.¡± On the board, the electrician turned tactician drew out every point that needed to be protected. ¡°Also, while we are working on the entrances, the elderly can start building weapons. It can be anything as long as it¡¯s lethal, but we need it now.¡±

    ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll also send the kids down into the tunnels. It¡¯ll be safer there.¡±

    ¡°Make sure they follow the marked path to the substation. The room just outside the reactor chamber is blast-proof. Send Elizabeth with them. She was a teacher before and can probably keep them calm.¡±

    ¡°This is going to be worse than the actual collapse for us, isn¡¯t it? Can we get someone to help her make more cocktails?¡± Chuck said simply, motioning to a kindly-looking grandmother that was actively stuffing rags into bottles of vodka.

    ¡°Sure thing. Ethel, who can you stand for more than five minutes?¡± Rebecca said, addressing the elderly woman.

    ¡°Anyone from the bridge club? Anyone except Betty. The only thing she¡¯s good for is not breaking a hip on bingo night, if you know what I mean,¡± Ethel said, nimbly crafting another firebomb.

    Rebecca turned and pointed to a young boy making caltrops in the corner. ¡°That works. Roger, go get anyone but Betty and bring them here. I have a feeling we¡¯re going to need as many of these bombs as we can get.¡±

    ¡°Has anyone seen Vandre?¡± Chuck asked, drumming his fingers on the planning table.

    ¡°Not yet, sir,¡± a young radio operator said from his chair, tiny legs barely reaching the floor as they swung back and forth.

    ¡°We need to find him. Send out the scavengers and see what they find.¡±

 Wanderer - Chapter 56

    Thirteen weeks and a Human hand recipe after the fall.

    Regrowing parts of your body sucks. You would think a magical process to regrow missing tissue from nothing but the wave of a cosmic middle finger would be easy, but you would be wrong. It¡¯s not like the old tabletop games where a cleric could just wish it back into existence and poof, there it was. And it¡¯s damned sure not as easy as slapping on a sweet robot hand and fighting your robot dad on a big spaceship in the name of freedom. I wish it was that easy, but I¡¯m not even close to being that lucky.

    When it happens, an itch worse than gonorrhea starts in the amputated stump. Like a thousand angry fleas biting all at once, it signals the start of regrowing a limb as skin stretches over the wound and stops the flow of blood. Then, rapid bone growth begins and what I can only describe as a baby hand pokes its way out of the constantly expanding skin covering your wrist.

    Much as I want to tell you a heroic story of breaking free from my bonds the moment my hand returned to normal, that was not what happened.

    Instead, I slipped my baby hand free of the restraints, made miniature shadow puppets out of my tiny fingers, and made them dance. Not the most gallant response to having your hand free for the first time in days, but I needed to entertain myself for a few minutes while waiting for the soft tissue to reform.

    When the fingers on my baby hand were strong enough to hold something, I hiked up the hem of my dress and fished around for the box knife strapped to the small of my back. It took a few minutes, but my fingers eventually closed around the rubber gripped handle and pulled the weapon free.

    The next part ¡ª freeing myself ¡ª was going to be a little more difficult.

    The accountants had a routine, and if I timed this right, I could get free while they were busy getting busy in what remained of the freezer aisle. Luckily, they didn¡¯t even bother posting a guard. I¡¯d done such a good enough job at making them uncomfortable, they only came to visit me when it was time to eat.

    Apparently, thanking your attackers and telling them how to best cook your ribs was too creepy for cannibals. Who knew?

    I kept one eye on the entrance of my prison as I sawed at my restraints with abandon. It didn¡¯t take long. Ever since finding my box knife, I¡¯d gone out of my way to ensure it stayed extremely sharp. Luckily, the creepy hand loving guy hadn¡¯t taken both extremities. While doing so would make getting them free a breeze, I didn¡¯t fancy trying to escape with two baby hands and a box knife.

    Granted, I¡¯ve had worse escapes. Being sealed in a stone box with your lover''s body for a few centuries with only a skull to talk to could drive a man insane. I was lucky those barbarians decided grave robbing was an acceptable hobby. If not, who knows how long that tomb would¡¯ve remained sealed? I still giggle when I remember the look on Alaric¡¯s face. His men had just finished breaking open the sarcophagus, expecting to find the treasure of Ceasar. Instead, they found a man covered in grime and singing to a skull like it was just another Thursday. Which, coincidentally, it was.

    , I straightened my dress and tucked the box knife into a loop on my leather harness. My hand was strong enough to be useful, and I planned on making the grandest exit possible. They¡¯d gone out of their way to ensure I was secure. But that wasn¡¯t saying much, considering they made my prison out of old grocery store furniture and caution tape. If their normal pattern held, I would have roughly two hours to get away before someone came to get another snack. It was more time than I needed, but it was still a time limit.

    I crouched down and slipped through a small gap between two shelves. Outside, this nightmare hellscape was even worse than I¡¯d imagined. Dozens of people were laying on mattresses, caked in dirt and other bodily substances. Even from a distance, I could see the blankness of their faces. Each too far gone from drugs to even consider standing.

    I clenched my fist as I looked around the drug den for a pathway to the exit. I was outgunned and out manned. If there was ever a chance to save anyone, it was long gone. Even if I could squash their high, it would be cruel to take away their bliss.

    I made my way to the back door, knocking over everything in my path as I passed. Some of them were bottles of alcohol and others were piles of laundry or empty boxes of microwave meals. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t paying close enough attention to know which was which. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that most of it was flammable.

    The plan was a good one, with a single major drawback. I had nothing to spark it. No lighter, no matchbox, and no torch. As it often does, the universe listened to my problem and ensured that I would trip over a bundle of metal power cable and drop it directly into a large patch of fuel. A grin split my face as I scrambled back to my feet and grabbed my box knife, cutting deep into the cable while trying to ignore the biting sensation of electricity running up my arm. I could almost visualize the current flowing through my body, cooking my insides as it ripped through me.

    With a grunt, I forced myself to let go and dropped both cable and knife into a puddle of kerosine at my feet. If there was anything that was always reliable, it was the knowledge that the WalStore always had more than enough material to start several fires.

    Sparks jumped and flames rose as the first stage of my escape was reaching its climax. I knew how I needed to escape. At this point, it was more a matter of not getting caught than it was about getting out in one piece. There weren¡¯t many advantages to being immortal, but the ability to come out of an incredibly stupid situation with no lasting damage was one of them.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    The fire and metal exploded as the flames reached a ten-foot-high pile of canned lighter fluid. Burning liquid spread like Greek fire, igniting anything in its path. Part of me wanted to watch as the building came down around me, but I remembered the last time I watched a fire burn and did nothing to stop it.

    I really missed that library. I tried to rebuild it in Atlantis, but there will never be a place of learning as great as Alexandria.

    Several accountants looked up as I passed, torn from their acts of debauchery by the noise. Naked, a group of them clamored to their feet, pulling themselves from a grim covered mattress and the drug laden body below. As I ran, I dodged attacks thrown at me from the shadows, not allowing myself to be imprisoned again. It was good they knew I was here. That way, they would know why they died.

    ¡°Hey! Grab the snack! Make sure he don¡¯t get away!¡± a big man in a sailor hat and ass-less chaps shouted.

    ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,¡± I yelled, sprinting toward the rear of the store, reaching out and knocking over anything that might slow my pursuers. Racks of clothing, chairs, even a pile of boxed kitchen appliances. Nothing was safe, everything was a target.

    And while I ran, they followed in relentless determination to catch me. It was a perfectly acceptable reaction to someone burning down your apocalypse house, regardless of how warranted it was.

    open the warehouse doors, slowing only to break through the glass of an emergency box containing a fire-axe. I reached in, clutched it with my baby hand, and threw it over my shoulder like a lumberjack. The exit wasn¡¯t far, but neither were the accountants.

    I slammed my shoulder against the fire exit, cursing the cheap chain holding it shut. I stepped back, lifting the axe above my head and tightening my grip.

    ¡°You bastards went and made me use my strong hand!¡± I shouted, swinging the weapon with all the strength I could muster.

    The blade dug into the cheap metal and split the chain with an audible crack. Behind me, another explosion rocked the building as the fire continued to spread. Face twisted in rage, the Accountant in the sailor¡¯s hat screamed, digging deep as he sprinted toward me with his head lowered like a. I quickly ripped the chains out of the metal handle and slipped through, unwilling to be hit by the oncoming wall of flesh.

    I knew the door wouldn¡¯t stop this beast of a man without help, so without hesitation, I wedged the shaft of my axe between the door handle and the safety railing. It wasn¡¯t a perfect fix, but if it got me away from these beasts and trapped them inside a burning building, then all the better.

    A loud thump followed by cursing came seconds after I finished securing the handle.

    Not willing to hang around to see how many more hits it could take, I ran down the ramp toward one of the armored air-cars parked in the lot below. With the amount of modification done, the chances of any remaining security that could stop me from stealing one was almost zero.

    I vaulted over the door, slid into the driver¡¯s seat, and slammed my finger into the button that would bring this behemoth to life. As the machine vibrated with power, I saw the handle of my axe give way as the Accountant in the sailor¡¯s hat stumbled through the door.

    As I rose into the air, one of tore through the building, blowing out the windows and sending balls of fire out in every direction. I hadn¡¯t killed all of them, but I had managed something.

    Hovering over their burning tomb, I raised my still growing baby hand and extended my middle finger. I destroyed their base, and even better, I avenged Jim.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°We can¡¯t take much more of this,¡± the runner panted, hardly able to stay on his feet.

    The feeling wasn¡¯t new amongst the survivors, though. Ever since Vandre left, they¡¯d faced wave after wave of mutated monsters trying to destroy their home. The twisted bodies of the enemy force littered the street in a vomit inducing pile that served as yet another barrier protecting the entrance to their building. Scorch marks dotted the street, but their stockpile of ammunition was shrinking by the hour.

    It didn¡¯t matter what they did to stop it, this new world of ash and darkness seemed hellbent on destroying the only remaining pockets of human life in the city. Even if they abandoned this place to find other pockets of survivors, there was no guarantee they could handle the number of people that would show up.

    ¡°Give it one more push, then seal the doors. Use whatever you can to block it off and evacuate the stairwells. If they get through, we will lead them to the roof and burn them with vodka and fire,¡± Chuck said, trying his best to direct the chaos.

    He didn¡¯t sign up for this. When he stepped up to lead the survivors, it was out of necessity, not qualification. There was no part of him meant to be a leader, and there was damned sure no part of him that wanted to be a tactician.

    ¡°Got it, Chuck,¡± the runner said around a mouthful of sandwich before forcing the bite down his throat.

    The man turned and ran back down the stairs, repeating his orders and clearing the main stairwell. Yesterday, they¡¯d been forced to send the children and the elderly underground for their safety. But just because they were safe didn¡¯t mean they were idle.

    ¡°Build team, this is Chuck. How many more bombs do you have?¡± he radioed, knowing the time was coming when the answer would be zero.

    ¡°Not many. Supplies are getting thin for making them,¡± a voice Chuck didn¡¯t recognize replied.

    ¡°Alright, bring them up¡­ We¡¯ll have to figure out how best to use them. Good work.¡±

    There was nobody here to help, no Vandre to give advice from a seemingly endless source of personal experience. Nor was there a leader trained in dealing with these sorts of problems. If they made it another day, he would honestly be surprised.

    Maybe the people underground could find an old bunker down there to turn into their home? Yeah, he would tell himself that was the plan. At least it would remove a small portion of the burden of death on his shoulders.

    ¡°Um¡­ Chuck?¡± A radio squawked, ¡°You¡¯re gonna wanna come up here.¡±

    He grit his teeth in frustration and walked up the stairs to receive whatever terrible news the scouts found this time. Maybe the mutants had a bomb of their own and were waiting for the right time to blow their way into the building. If that was true, it was eerily similar to what Chuck had planned for getting away.

    ¡°What is it?¡± the leader said tersely.

    ¡°Well, it seems a portion of our city is on fire, and the smoke is driving the Mutated away.¡±

    Sure enough, on the street below there was a group of Mutated that stopped attacking their building and were now following the scent of smoke in the air. In the distance, a massive black column of smoke reached for the sky, trying desperately to reach the hand of god.

    Chuck never really believed in luck, but in that moment, he knew that fire had saved his and everyone else¡¯s life in exchange for one meal.

    It was bittersweet, but survival often was.

 Wanderer - Chapter 57

    Thirteen weeks and a grocery store fire after the fall

    There were no words to describe how happy I was to be free of those leather-clad bondage wannabes. Not only did the accountants turned cannibals eat people, but they had a clear aversion to being clean.

    To be fair, living in an apocalyptic wasteland surrounded by men in leather so skimpy it would make a nun blush, probably didn¡¯t foster a massive desire to be clean. I wish it did, but when all you had was a sailor¡¯s hat and ass-less chaps¡­ what¡¯s the point of washing just to get covered in blood and ash again?

    As I hovered in the sky above the WalStore turned portal to hell, I realized that society had lost everything it once was. The desire of man to be better and achieve greater had died in favor of becoming just another cog in the machine. At some point, humanity had stopped innovating and simply chosen to survive.

    It wasn¡¯t their fault. The government, solely focused on wealth and power, adopted the ancient strategy of dumbing down the masses. Instead of teaching children to think independently, they taught them to take tests and repeat facts. Eventually, the children were so beaten by the system, most didn¡¯t bother to question the world around them. The few that did had no clue how to come to their own conclusions without being guided by an authority figure.

    And that was how they¡¯d become what they were now. By stripping away the rigid structure that society had created, they had no clue how to handle the freedom of not being told what to do. While that most certainly didn¡¯t excuse eating people, it explained why so many joined a gang for the promise of drugs and suspended reality. Even if it meant wearing ridiculous outfits.

    Wrapping my hands around the controls of the air-car, I pointed the vehicle toward the only place I could call home anymore. They accepted me into their society despite the knowledge that I had very little to offer. Acceptance was their creed, tolerance their motto, and patience, their way of life.

    Even if my day ended with blood on my hands, it was better than forcing these kind people to raise their fist in anger. Because of my actions, they would never have to dirty their own hands with the blood of the slain. If we could stay under the radar and ensure the Mutated never found us, they might survive just long enough to rebuild Earth.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Could you goddamned bastards have worse timing!?¡± Chuck screamed at my air-car as I landed on the roof of our building. ¡°We don¡¯t have taxes for you today. We are dealing with a bigger problem than starving brutes that can¡¯t get their shit together.¡±

    ¡°Well, good afternoon to you, too.¡± I replied, jumping out of the driver¡¯s seat and waving my mostly restored hand at the big man.

    I imagined the welcome I would receive while I was flying. Part of me was convinced it would be something grand, a parade perhaps. Another part thought it would just be a high-five and a feast in my honor. What I didn¡¯t expect was the heavy right hook that dislocated my jaw and threw me to the ground.

    Chuck grabbed my bloodstained dress and dragged me to the edge of the roof, snarling, ¡°You have some nerve coming back here! Do you know how many people died since your little disappearing act? I do, and it¡¯s more than I want to remember. But I have to. I have to remember their faces and talk to their loved ones. You did that. You killed those people by leaving.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a real shitty way to say thank you.¡± I shoved my jaw back into place and let it heal before his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened while I was gone, but the accountants are no longer a part of it.¡±

    Chuck eyed me hard, trying to decide if I was lying or if I really didn¡¯t know about the devastation that rocked our little community. Apparently, he decided that revenge wasn¡¯t worth it and pulled be back from the edge of the roof.

    ¡°Explain.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I went hunting accountants the other night. Sadly, they found me first,¡± I started, motioning to the door. ¡°This story really is better if I only tell it once. Care to go in?¡±

    ~~**~~

    ¡°You did what?¡± Mrs. McGee said, clutching her pearls in horror.

    The old woman had stared at me with her mouth open while I recounted my experience in the WalStore with what I thought was admiration. Apparently, slack-jawed respect and abject horror look the same when the person prides themselves on their civility.

    ¡°I trapped the accountants in their building and burned it down around them. Why is that so hard to understand?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that it¡¯s hard to understand, you psychopath. It¡¯s that you¡¯re standing here telling us the story while eating a sandwich like nothing happened. Aren¡¯t you disturbed?¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Raising the sandwich in question to my mouth, I took a bite before continuing, ¡°Not really? It¡¯s not the first time people decided I make a good barbecue. Much as I would like it to be, it probably won¡¯t be the last either.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m talking about burning them alive!¡± she screamed, raising the tension in the room.

    ¡°Well, how else was I supposed to do it? I¡¯m only one person. I can¡¯t kill them all and burn the bodies.¡±

    ¡°Why did you have to burn them?¡± she said, nostrils flared. ¡°Humanity is already going to have a tough enough time rebuilding without someone like you going around killing half of the people we¡¯ve met.¡±

    ¡°Humans have recovered from worse than this. The population dropped to 3,000 after the Toba super-volcano erupted and caused a three-year volcanic winter, but they bounced back. That¡¯s not the point, though. I didn¡¯t burn down the building because of some maniacal desire to start fires. I burned the building down because I needed to escape. If I¡¯m being honest, I had no clue how I was going to actually start the fire until the opportunity literally tripped me with a bundle of cables the size of my arm.¡±

    If the old lady thought she was going to shame me for surviving, she had another thing coming. I understood that a lack of population would make things difficult in the coming years. But that didn¡¯t mean we could let psychotic assholes eat people just because they could make a baby.

    ¡°You are a madman and a butcher. I just hope Chuck and the others see through your ridiculous fa?ade before it¡¯s too late!¡± she said, shoving a finger into my chest before stomping down the stairs.

    ¡°As fucked up as it is that you burned down an entire building with people inside,¡± Sparky said from her place on a water reclamation barrel. ¡°I can see why it you did it. She may not be happy about it, but that¡¯s probably because she had a grandson in the gang¡­ that¡¯s usually how these things work out, right?¡±

    ¡°Historically no, but it¡¯s pretty common in half-baked literature.¡± Chuck replied, ¡°Despite that, I can say that we¡¯re glad you came home¡­ and sorry for the punch.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fiiine. It¡¯s not the first time someone punched me in the face,¡± I said, finishing the last bites of my sandwich. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill those people for glory or whatever. I killed them because they were eating other people and doing significantly more harm than good. Sure, their existence might mean more humans to repopulate the planet, but do we really want to rebuild our world on the backs of cannibal accountants?¡±

    ¡°You keep emphasizing that accountants made up most of the WalStore gang. Is that important, or do you just not like accounting?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s to like? A cannibal is one thing. I can overlook the occasional indulgence of people jerky, but accountants remind me of IRS agents from old earth.¡±

    Closing his eyes, Chuck took a deep breath while deciding whether to play along with my insanity or just move on. Sadly, he changed the subject, ¡°We have bigger problems than the WalStore gang. While you were gone, the Mutated found us. We¡¯ve been holding them off, but the attacks just keep getting stronger.¡±

    ¡°Well, that only leaves two options. But looking at you, I can tell you already knew that.¡±

    ¡°What did I miss?¡± Sparky asked, looking back and forth between them.

    ¡°He already saw the problem and had a solution, but it¡¯s not one that anyone will like,¡± Chuck answered, clarifying nothing.

    ¡°Sparky, the problem is that once the Mutated find you, they won¡¯t forget it. They will come back day after day until you either destroy their entire pod, or they destroy you,¡± I explained.

    ¡°So, we go on the offensive.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily. We can also move everyone underground and start scouting for a new home. Now that we have power, we can even set up hydro gardens down there if we need to. Eventually, the Mutated will realize there is no more food and wander off.¡± I said, ¡°But that will mean our entire colony living in the sewers. Yes, they¡¯ll be alive, but I¡¯m not too certain people want to make that trade.¡±

    ¡°What was option two?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Option two is to pack up everything we can and walk away. Go down into the tunnels and get as far away as we can before coming back to the surface. With any luck, we can fix a train and get even farther. Vandre has taught us how to rebuild on our own, so him staying to lock the door behind us isn¡¯t the worst thing.¡±

    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m not ok with this. We¡¯re not leaving him behind while we escape,¡± she said, horrified.

    ¡°Someone has to stay back. Best case, I can set up some kind of bomb that will collapse the tunnel entrance and make sure you can¡¯t be followed. I¡¯ve lived a long life, and if the tides of fate will it, I will find you again,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°No, fuck that. You¡¯re not sacrificing yourself for us. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re immortal or not, you still feel pain.¡±

    ¡°Chuck,¡± I said, turning my attention to the big man while slipping my hands into my pockets, ¡°start getting people and their things underground. Anything you don¡¯t need or can replicate, throw out of the window near the door to build up the barrier. Leave me about fifty kilos of the gardening chemicals, though. I¡¯ll need those.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Thank you. But¡­ just so you know, you don¡¯t need to do this,¡± he said again.

    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± I said. When the pair turned to leave, I caught Sparky¡¯s arm and held her back. ¡°I will not die. The day I met Chuck, I¡¯d just recovered from a bullet to the brain. I can handle a few mutant humans.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not fucking right and you know it,¡± she spat.

    ¡°Look, Spar¨C Rebbecca. This isn¡¯t the end. I¡¯ll find you again. I¡¯ll find all of you. In the last twelve weeks, I¡¯ve begun to relearn something I¡¯d forgotten long ago,¡± I said, staring out of the window at the ruins of New York City.

    ¡°And that is?¡±

    ¡°That I care what happens to humanity¡­ And that I enjoy having a home.¡±

    ¡°What kind of lesson is that? Why wouldn¡¯t you care about humanity?¡± She started, but stopped herself before she really got going, ¡°Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to. If you really want to find us, I¡¯ll be guiding us north to Scranton and past that to Buffalo. Hopefully, you catch up by the time we get there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try. Find a place to live without being hunted by humans and mutated alike. Make sure these people prosper. You¡¯re a smart woman. Between you and Chuck, this community will thrive. You¡¯ve got this. You don¡¯t need my help. Go where the winds may take you, and if they are kind, we will meet again. Now if you don¡¯t mind, I need to make a bomb and you need to get people underground.¡±

    ¡°Can you defend yourself when you get out?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find Prince Albert somewhere. It was a good weapon, and it¡¯ll protect me until something better comes along.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what else to say. We weren¡¯t romantic; we were barely even friends. But that didn¡¯t change the looming knowledge that I would once again be alone. I wished it weren¡¯t true, but the sad reality of my life is that solitude has long been my only companion. It was a law of this world as unchanging as the stars in the sky.

 Wanderer - Chapter 58

    Thirteen weeks and a goodbye after the fall.

    It took a lot of work to get everyone to leave the place we called home. Some people accepted it with a dejected sigh, and some people fought like we were personally responsible for the fall. Honestly, I couldn¡¯t blame them for that feeling. After recovering from a devastating loss, their newfound life was being snatched away.

    Again.

    They¡¯d watched from bedroom windows and office towers as creatures made of ink roamed the streets and took every person they didn¡¯t kill. They couldn¡¯t fight the creatures. Most could only watch in fear as police officers and soldiers alike were cut down. If the AHF couldn¡¯t stop them from taking anyone they wanted, how in the hell could a person with no combat experience even expect to inconvenience them?

    That didn¡¯t stop people, though. The number of citizens that took up arms in whatever manner they could was admirable. They died in the street like cattle taken out to slaughter, but they did it with a weapon in their hands and courage in their hearts. But that¡¯s how things always went, didn¡¯t they? Without fail, the blood the brave always paved the way for people like me; the coward who just wanted to see the open sky one more time.

    Lately, there¡¯d been more days like this, and each time, the clarity lasted a little longer. The lack of constant factory production was having a healing effect on the world, and it was visible in the clouds. Above, I could just barely see the silver glint of ships coming and going from the lunar base. Did they know how many people were trapped down here? Did they care? I hoped they did, but I feared they didn¡¯t.

    I¡¯ve seen so much in my long life. I¡¯ve been a ruler, an advisor, a voter, and an outsider. I¡¯ve known kings and queens, democracies and dictatorships, theocracies and true autonomy. None of them were perfect, but each aspired to emerge as the ultimate solution for their people.

    Humanity built so much in their short time on this planet. Megalithic monuments that have endured for millennia, a moral code that transcends religion, and an unbreakable sense of community. None of this existed in my brother¡¯s lifetime.

    It was the most important piece of society, and the missing piece of every fallen empire. When a community consumes a lesser one, the first thing to be stamped out is the sense of acceptance. Often, it is a test of an invaders¡¯ greed, and it was one they failed time and time again.

    Sunlight warmed me, gently kissing my face and cleansing my mind of the pain and sin I held on to like an identity. Its warming glow brought back memories long since pushed to the back of my mind. As I laid there, I realized something I¡¯ve been afraid to admit for so long.

    I wasn¡¯t sorry.

    I¡¯ve done awful things. Every time life forced me to repeat the sin of murder that cursed me with this long existence, I hear the screams of the dying in my thoughts for years after. But that wasn¡¯t the case tonight. I left that building knowing the accountants would die in that fire, and I accepted that.

    They weren¡¯t misguided souls, caught up in the events around them. They were humans that chose to consume the flesh of others simply because they didn¡¯t want to work for their sustenance. It was that knowledge that drove me to seek them out, and it was that knowledge that wiped away any regret I felt about what I¡¯d done.

    I lifted my arm and stared at the object in my hand. After learning the true source of humanity''s power, I¡¯d found and charged a single battery. I suspected it was the energy that powered my immortality. If so, it wasn¡¯t the power of the gods; it was a tool used by the oldest race of beings in our universe.

    God did not curse me. The being I called god changed me into a something capable of recovering from the worst that nature could throw at me. Not a single part of me was human anymore. In a way, I was more like the mutants milling around the base of our building.

    Could the energy trapped inside this battery finally kill me? Did I even want to die anymore? Even if it could strip the power from my body, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted that anymore. For so long, I¡¯d searched for the answer to a problem older than civilization itself. Now that I had the answer, it felt pointless. For the first time in a very long time, I had a home I loved and a society that would flourish if given the chance.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Taped to the bottom of the battery was a single button. When pressed, the bomb in the basement would blow and seal the tunnel. There was no point in going down there to fight in a last moment of glory like a viking giving his life for his kin.

    I could blow the basement now and save myself the drama of it all, but that didn¡¯t feel like the right answer. I wanted to wait until they broke through the barrier and got inside; I wanted to eliminate the entire pod.

    Could I survive the collapse of an entire building? Yes, I had to survive. Even if it took a long time to claw my way out of the rubble, I would survive. There was no other option. Rebbecca and Chuck would wait for me, and with their help, I might build society one more time.

    Was that the redemption I¡¯ve sought? Was the very act of rebuilding civilization from nothing over and over again my penance, or my prize? Or was I just the clockmaker, winding the spring of humanity every time the hour struck twelve?

    I¡¯ve held many names in my lifetime. Most reading this will have guessed at least one, some may have even guessed two. Only the most observant will have guessed more, and I feel confident that none will have guessed them all.

    Ready for the next chapter of my life, I moved to the stairwell of my most recent home and took out a worn leather journal. It wouldn¡¯t be long before this journal is complete, and it is ready to take its place on a shelf in Atlantis. The scratches of humans twisted beyond measure echo the scratching of my pen on paper. Soon, I will push the button and ride the explosion to the ground, only to get up and start over again in an hour.

    Vandre is the most recent in a long line of names. Most have no meaning, having made very little impact on history outside of having watched the world pass by. Others have shaped humanity through bounty and hardship alike.

    I was once John; I liked that name. It was one of the few times I didn¡¯t use a name tied to the death of my brother¡­ I did good things with John. Though I had to abandon him after the assassin shot me in the head. Too many people saw him die in that car for him to return a few days later.

    Before that, they knew me as Arjuna. Even after hearing my story, people were convinced I had some kind of supernatural ability to know right from wrong. They believed I was the ultimate warrior, incapable of falling in battle. I suppose, in a way, they were right.

    Mankind once knew me as Cambyses the Second, King of Kings and ruler of the known world. It was a title I held by virtue of power alone. After having lost an entire army in Egypt and some unfortunate unrest in Babylon, my adopted father sent me on a campaign hoping I would never return. I made sure his hope became a reality.

    One of my oldest identities is Romulus. To this day, many claim the brothers that built Rome were myth. I can¡¯t claim that he was there from the beginning, but I brought him with me anyway. I carried his ghost through the ages and wove his image into the very stones of an empire.

    The first name I ever used was also the most unknown. For many years, I traveled across what is now Africa, bringing food, water, and other supplies to the wandering groups of humans in need. Eventually, we settled along the Nile and the people worshipped me as a god. For a long time, I honestly believed that myself.

    They called me Set, the god of the desert, storms, and foreigners. Then, one night while I was deep in my drink, I told my story to a priest. After that, I heard rumors about my supposed brother Osiris and how I¡¯d murdered him. I lost the title of benevolent ruler and became chaos incarnate in a matter of a few short years. Gone were the days of being worshiped. I became a feared representation of darkness and all it encompasses.

    Of all my identities, I did the most good as Set. I wish I could have done more, but despite my longevity, I am powerless to change the past.

    But here we come to the end. To the name you will most likely know best, to the story I told when I wrote those dammed scrolls so long ago.

    You see, I wasn¡¯t cursed for having malice in my heart. I wasn¡¯t cursed out of hatred or forced to walk this long road because of greed. When I wrote those things about myself, I was convinced that I was evil. I was cursed because of a mistake that rang through history like the toll of a bell. I was cursed because a starving man broke open a bone to drink its marrow. In my feelings of betrayal, I embraced my rage for the first and most significant time.

    God cursed me because the man I attacked was my brother. I killed him because I was starving, and I¡¯ve starved for death ever since. This power has kept me alive for a hundred thousand years, never allowing me to move on.

    Not a day goes by that I don¡¯t think about him. Not a moment has passed where I don¡¯t wish I had died instead.

    There is a name I¡¯ve kept all this time. A name I hid in the background of religion while painting my sins as those of my brother. A name I abandoned to all but the most significant people who enter my life.

    Dear reader, you are now one of those significant people. If you¡¯ve been to my vault, if you¡¯ve seen my journals, then you already know my name. If you¡ªby some chance¡ªfind this journal and I am no longer alive to care for it, please ensure it is placed with its brothers as a record of my life and the incredible history of humanity.

    My name¡ªfor those who haven¡¯t guessed¡ªis Cain, the first son of Adam and the murderer of Abel.

 Wanderer - Chapter 59

    Epilogue

    The leather binding of the journal whispered shut as the Librarian finished reading and closed the cover. Turning the tome over in her hands, she wrapped a small cord around the catch and sighed. It had taken a long time for the most recent volume of her brother''s life to make its way down here. Now that it had, The Librarian very much wished it would¡¯ve been lost to the depths.

    ¡°He¡¯s really had quite the adventure this time, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°It appears so, though I find his use of drama to be a tad droll.¡± A tall dark-skinned man said, leaning on a spear as if it wasn¡¯t a weapon from a time long past.

    ¡°I like the drama. It adds flavor to the information that so rarely makes it down here. You can only watch the same programs so many times before going insane.¡± She said, standing and motioning for the man to follow her. ¡°What¡¯s the running bet? Will he come back here first, or join his new family and start another journal?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? It¡¯s not like you and I treat him like family.¡±

    ¡°We should, though. His crime is long past, and we are the only people that understand time like he does.¡±

    The pair walked past rows upon rows of books, each with progressively older spines until finally stopping at a half empty shelf. Save for the myriad of journals that would sit beside this one, nothing else would ever rest on here.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°What now? What do you mean, Enoch? You¡¯re immortal and have been ever since we broke through the stone at the base of mount Vesuvius.¡± Sliding the book on to the shelf, she turned and walked toward the library door.

    ¡°I mean, what do we do with Uncle Cain?¡±

    ¡°We respect his self-induced solitude and hope he doesn¡¯t need our help. If he does,

    Enoch grunted in dissatisfaction and followed his aunt as she led him into a vault below the library. He hated this part, but their version of immortality was different. In order to maintain their longevity, each surviving member of Seth¡¯s family had to be exposed to the Philosopher''s Stone and absorb more of the prismatic energy that gave them life.

    Inside the vault was a single pedestal with a familiar stone caught in a suspension field. As it spun, the light from the surrounding room appeared to warp. The prismatic energy it created seemed to taunt Enoch, calling for him to hold it and embrace it for all eternity.

    ¡°What if this explosion killed him? He was holding a battery filled with Light,¡± he said, stopping in front of the stone-like pillar and grabbing the knife that rested on a pillow there. Nonchalantly, he brought the blade across his hand and allowed his blood to drip onto the floor as he thrust it into the suspension field and grabbed the stone.

    ¡°If the power of this light could kill us, it would have done so a very long time ago. He¡¯s letting himself hope, but is willfully forgetting the number of years he walked around with the power mere inches from his heart,¡± the Librarian replied, repeating Enoch¡¯s actions once he released the stone, looking as though decades were gone from his body.

    ¡°Do you think he can rebuild human society?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. It entirely depends on how well he can teach others. By himself? Not without our help.¡±

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t he done it before?¡± Enoch asked, ¡°Several times, if I remember properly.¡±

    ¡°He has. In that case, perhaps it is time we allow him to pass or fail without our help,¡± she said, leading her nephew away from the room that held their greatest secrets. ¡°Luckily, leaving him alone to fester in the pain of yesterday or the joy of tomorrow is exactly what he wants.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Prologue

    ¡°Here we are, live from Buffalo. Jim, it¡¯s been the better part of a year since the attack and things are still looking bleak. We tried to call for UHR support, but it seems like they have abandoned us. If you¡¯re here on Earth and alone, come to the Tifft Nature Preserve. We have food and clothing, not much, but we have it.¡± ¨C From Chuck, Channel 4 news, August 3, 3265

    The cliffs overlooking a once-great human city sat forgotten by the planet¡¯s new masters. They saw no reason to set a watch upon an empty cliff and had no evidence to believe the former inhabitants could climb that high without being noticed from below. Unfortunately, it was very possible. Especially if the people in question had access to a personal Gate.

    The outcropping warped as the air shattered, breaking into millions of shards before coalescing into two distinct forms.

    They¡¯d visited this place many times throughout their long lives. In the past, its proximity to a star made it a tropical paradise. Now, a thick black smog filled the skies, darkening the landscape and turning it into a wasteland.

    ¡°This has to end,¡± Tobias said, tearing his gaze from the tortured world below to look at his oldest friend. ¡°First Earth, now they come here? Why are they trying so hard to destroy us?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s odd to see the shoe on the other foot for once, isn¡¯t it?¡± Benjamin said. Even without looking, Tobias could see the pain in those eyes. ¡°For so many years, we¡¯ve been the aggressor. And now, for the first time since Mars, we find ourselves threatened by a people who can fight on our level.¡±

    These creatures made themselves known to the UHR a little over a year ago. On that visit, they¡¯d kidnapped nearly two-thirds of Earth¡¯s population in a matter of hours. They would¡¯ve taken more if not for the efforts of an elite group of soldiers led by an even more elite group of commanders. However, the die was cast, and the decimation rang across human controlled worlds like church bells across a city.

    The people were terrified. If the AHF couldn¡¯t protect a single planet from the most devastating attack in human history, how could they possibly protect the rest of mankind¡¯s holdings? Truthfully, those fears were more than a little justified. In the short time since that first attack, humanity had lost ten of its fifty worlds to the ink-black creatures that the media simply called ¡®the scourge.¡¯

    ¡°I don¡¯t think being able to ignore our attacks truly equals fighting on our level. Even without that strange advantage, they are very skilled in battle.¡± Tobias replied, ¡°Although, both Albert and Theresa believe we can create something to overcome their defenses. As the engineer of our little band of adventurers, do you think it¡¯s possible?¡±

    The creatures remained shrouded in mystery even after a year since their first encounter, but a few things were becoming well known. Thousands upon thousands of tentacle-like strands formed their bodies, which could easily separate and reform to take the shape of any species they liked. It was also understood that extreme heat was necessary to kill these aliens. Otherwise, the pieces would eventually reassemble and return to the battlefield with nothing gained for their efforts.

    ¡°Is that why we¡¯re here? To kill one and study its corpse?¡±

    ¡°More like interrogate it, then study its corpse.¡± Tobias clarified.

    ¡°I won¡¯t take part in those kinds of experiments again. Toby, last time we tried to harness the power of an unknown race, we cursed ourselves with immortality.¡±

    ¡°Quit being melodramatic. It wasn¡¯t the act of studying the creature that gave us this power and you know it. We won¡¯t be creating the gene-splicing serum from these, and we wouldn¡¯t test it on ourselves if we did. That¡¯s a lesson you only need to learn once. We are strictly trying to understand them so that we can kill them more efficiently.¡± He said, nodding toward what had once been city hall, ¡°They are murdering our people Ben, we cannot allow that to continue.¡±

    Silently, Benjamin came to terms with the fact that another weight would burden his soul, deepening his madness worse. Unfortunately, his other self¡ªhis darker self¡ªreveled in this kind of work.

    Hargrave¡¯s metallic face broke into a mad grin as the more stable persona deactivated the inhibitor circuit in his mind. Without it, a thousand years of memory came crashing back, drowning him in the screams of those he¡¯d killed. Most of the time, Benjamin found the circuit to be a mercy. On days like this, though, Hargrave only found mercy in the blissful arms of destruction.

    Of the seven Unranked Officers, Hargrave was the strongest and most skilled in single combat. While the others could hold their own very well, they were useless without the gear that supported them.

    Hargrave did not have such pitiful limits.

    Threads of crimson Light became visible as he pulled massive amounts of power into existence. As they thickened, they twisted into a thick cloth known by all members of the AHF. Within moments, the glow faded and left a blood-red cloak hanging from the madman¡¯s shoulders. With a minor exertion of will, more lines of Light converged, solidifying into a pair of floating greatswords that functioned as extensions of his body.

    Finally, he drew a pair of worn Li-Tech hilts. Crimson blades extended from their base to form the sabers he¡¯d mastered centuries ago. Their comfortable weight brought back the screams of the damned. In the corner of his eyes, the stone outcropping twisted into the screaming faces of the dead, resurrecting the memory of how much blood was on his hands.

    But he was past caring what pitiful, weak Benjamin thought of his life.

    He giggled madly, wrapping himself in the bloody aura of his power. The unrepentant laugh banished the screams to the void where they couldn¡¯t bother him.

    Leaping forward, Unranked Officer Hargrave plummeted off the cliff and into the realm of his enemies.

    ~~**~~

    Falling.

    Hargrave learned to love it centuries ago. Sometimes it was good to let go, sometimes it was good to fall. It was the illusion of freedom interrupted by the jarring impact of reality.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Both sides of his mind warred with each other constantly. One always remained trapped while the other was free. Hargrave hated the other seven, but he knew that if he tried to act against them, the weakling would take over.

    Benjamin¡¯s strength could be so unpredictable.

    In his third century of life, the seven finally discovered a way to ¡°turn off¡± the memories that were such a deep-seated part of his Hargrave¡¯s identity. They designed a chip to be implanted directly into Benjamin¡¯s brain, suppressing any traumatic memory and remove the effects entirely.

    They didn¡¯t count on those memories becoming their own entity. While the chip was disabled, the person inhabiting Benjamin Hargrave¡¯s body was the best killer in the UHR. But the killer didn¡¯t vanish just because the circuit was active.

    The chip was a magnificent invention, hands down one of the most effective pieces of equipment humans ever built for mental health. It wasn¡¯t their fault they didn¡¯t know the darkness that lurked beneath the surface. They didn¡¯t need to know that it was the madman who fought in countless battles, not the scientist.

    It was Hargrave who¡¯d learned the arts of war and became a master of the blade. After all, Benjamin had never taken the time to learn anything more than what he needed to defend himself. It was Hargrave that destroyed cities and burned monuments to the ground, not Benjamin¡­

    No, not his brother, never his brother.

    His feet slammed into the compacted soil with a jolt, violently jerking him into the here and now. It was time to let the beast free.

    With an explosion of movement, he ran toward the town hall like a bullet fired from a rifle. Ahead, the two greatswords flew and speared a pair of guards before either could register his presence.

    Slowing his perception of time, he watched the guards melt into piles of black, writhing tentacles. Before they could fully extricate themselves from the weapon and reform their bodies, the Unranked Officer released the Light binding the weapons together. In a flash, the heat stored in their tightly woven threads ripped into the creatures¡¯ bodies, turning both into piles of ash.

    They didn¡¯t even have time to scream.

    Pity.

    Forming another pair of weapons¡ªthese shaped like war hammers¡ªhe sent them through the wooden doors like they were paper. As he crossed the threshold, a voice in the back of his mind noted the charred edges of the debris from the door. Not only had he broken them down, but he¡¯d allowed his rage to burn them into nothingness.

    Be careful, humans still need to return here one day. I would prefer it if we left them a place to live.

    ¡°Silence,¡± he muttered, impaling a gray shelled Scalador that stood sentry in the atrium. He remembered these. It had been a long time since the AHF conquered their planet. They made a great crunching sound when their shells cracked under. Hargrave was an artist of death, a chef who¡¯d mastered the blade long ago. As he systematically severed the limbs, thorax, and head of the thing, he wished he had the time to enjoy crushing the shells.

    Butcher.

    The condemnation coming from his other self was sickening, but it was true.

    He pulled a thermal disk from his shoulder and activated the weapon, throwing it onto the twitching body that lay at his feet. While the flames licked at his kill, he watched, mesmerized by the beautiful destruction. The Scalador were not the ones who invaded Earth, but they were guilty of working with that enemy.

    Hargrave couldn¡¯t leave such a transgression unpunished.

    ¡°Ben,¡± Tobias said, walking past the Breaker with no less than a dozen drones encircling him, ¡°Not the time to admire your work. Keep moving.¡±

    Grudgingly, the madman stood. He wanted to rip the spine from Tobias and watch him bleed, but now wasn¡¯t the time.

    Not that he believed he could truly kill him, even if the time was right. If he acted too much like Hargrave and not enough like Benjamin, the jig would be up. Tobias would invade his mind and shut down the body until they could dispel the demon that was Hargrave.

    Butcher.

    Yes, a butcher.

    Falling in line beside the Possessor, the two men strolled through the building. Hargrave shattered each door as they passed with a war hammer, allowing Tobias to send in a drone and clear the room of enemy combatants. Theirs was a constant river of death, destroying anyone and anything that stood in their way.

    ¡°Albert says we¡¯re almost there,¡± Tobias announced as they neared what was once the Governor¡¯s office. ¡°Apparently, the beast wanted to appear human. It is inside, waiting for you.¡±

    ¡°What, you don¡¯t want in on the action?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I have a veritable hoard of drones searching through every building in this city. So far, they¡¯ve only reclaimed about half of the city, but they will finish soon.¡±

    ¡°Are you reaching limits in your old age?¡±

    ¡°Nonsense. I just know that Benjamin rarely lets his¡­ other side free. I figured you would like to spend as much time out as possible before I turned the circuit back on.¡±

    How? How did this little shit know that he existed? He¡¯d been so careful over the years, there was no way he could¡¯ve known.

    ¡°I know, because your mind is a machine. All machines are open to me, Hargrave. I¡¯ve known for a very long time, but I¡¯ve kept your secret for the good of the many. Only a few can be as ruthless as you are while still accomplishing the mission.¡± Tobias said with a sigh, ¡°If you truly want to talk about it, we can do so later. After the mission.¡±

    Hargrave growled like a predator and walked towards the door. With a thought, another pair of hammers slammed into the wood, turning them into replicas of the front entrance. Stepping through, he dismissed the extra weapons. The tips of his sabers dragged against the ground, carving a groove in the floor that would need to be repaired before civilians could return to this place.

    Inside the room stood a man-shaped mass of ink-black tentacles that constantly twisted around themselves like snakes in a pit. As Hargrave drew nearer, it rose to its full nine feet of height as it struck, destroying the pitiful human that dared attack his fortification.

    Except he wasn¡¯t there.

    Still not completely formed after his use of the Faster the Light Gate module in his chest, Hargrave swung his sabers up and through what would have been muscle and bone on a human. Instead, two lumps of tentacles fell to the ground and immediately began inching their way back to their host.

    It was over in a single strike.

    No, Stop! He mentally screamed. It wasn¡¯t fair. This wasn¡¯t long enough of a release. The creature hadn¡¯t even challenged the ancient warrior. Nevertheless, Hargrave felt his control slipping.

    ¡°Ben, get control of yourself,¡± Tobias yelled, cutting through the fog of battle and forcing the engineer to return.

    After the screams had quieted enough for him to understand his surroundings, Benjamin looked up to see the enemy soldier locked inside a special containment drone specifically designed to hold gaseous entities. It wasn¡¯t a perfect prison, but it was something.

    ¡°Did we win?¡± he asked, fear of his own actions clear in his tone.

    ¡°Yes. We won, my friend.¡±

    Every second that passed was one that buried Hargrave deeper inside his prison. All signs of him, from the bloody aura of Light to the mad smile, faded into nothingness. Benjamin suppressed the demon, the Butcher, again, and like every other time he released his mind fully, he prayed that he never had to do so again.

    The prayer would remain unanswered forever.

    ¡°Thank you for the assist,¡± Benjamin said with a genuine grin. Sometimes he feared that one day he would never regain his true self, and that his smile would disappear forever.

    ¡°Of course. You know, sometimes I wonder how any of us keep up with you, but then I remember what you trade for that power. You don¡¯t have to endure these pains alone. Let us help.¡±

    ¡°I might have to take you up on that one. It¡¯s getting a little too hard.¡± He said, a ghostly pain etched onto his face.

    ¡°Shall we go, before the entire city comes looking for us?¡±

    Benjamin laughed, ¡°I thought you took care of them already?¡±

    ¡°Most, not all. But it would still be easier just to leave.¡± Tobias said, waving at Benjamin¡¯s chest, ¡°Are you going to Gate us away or not?¡±

    ¡°One of these days, you¡¯re going to need to get your own Gate.¡± He replied, grabbing both the containment unit and Tobias.

    ¡°Why? I have a taxi willing to ferry me from one side of the universe to the other with almost no effort. Why would I need one?¡±

    With a weary sigh, Benjamin activated the device. A split second later, the only evidence that either man had been on the planet at all was a trail of bodies and fire.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 58

    ¡°How can you just sit there and ignore the fact that they killed the High Minister? Is that what we want, to live in a shadow government where elected officials only stay in power if they toe the line?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being absurd. Anyone with a brain could tell what Agoston was doing to us. He was bringing us down a road of fire and hate.¡± ¨C From the Ministerial debates, February 12, 3264.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, there are more ways to use your abilities than sitting on the ship and acting as a relay for your squad,¡± Unranked Officer Albert Mayer said to the young soldier sitting across from him. ¡°But you need to understand how much danger you pointlessly place yourself in every time you decide to go on a mission. Optics are rare and our skills are invaluable.¡±

    ¡°I understand the risks, and I accept that you truly believe what you¡¯re saying. However, I do not accept what you¡¯re saying as an undeniable fact. If it were, then Officer Ross would fight to keep the Possessors ground to the ship just as hard as you do.¡± Jack rebutted.

    Over the past year, the two men had played out this conversation time and time again. During his initial training on Algol, Jack experienced what it was like to be an Optic that fought on the front lines. Not only did he learn to fight, but his instructor¡ªnow First Sergeant¡ªtold him in no uncertain terms that it was perfectly acceptable for a soldier to choose their own place on the battlefield.

    The topic wasn¡¯t new, but the words themselves always changed. That was part of the danger when you argued with a philosopher. It wasn¡¯t at all uncommon for them to find new and creative ways to turn you toward their way of thinking.

    Fortunately, the old man was more than a little understanding. He didn¡¯t yell, nor did he get upset when Jack refuted his will. If the young soldier could argue his beliefs with good reasoning, Albert was ok with his advice being questioned.

    ¡°Jack,¡± Albert said, taking a moment to think, ¡°how many Optics are usually in a basic training company?¡±

    The question was a loaded one, and Jack knew where this was going. Unfortunately, when you were talking to one of the oldest and most powerful humans alive, you could not simply ignore their questions.

    ¡°One, two at most, if we¡¯re lucky.¡±

    ¡°And the Phantoms?¡±

    ¡°My company had eight, which we were told was unusually high.¡±

    ¡°You were told correctly.¡± He said, walking to a bookshelf in the corner.

    Paper was rare on Earth. Throughout his life, he¡¯d only seen a handful of physical books, and they protected those behind layers of glass. Collectors paid upwards of a million credits just for the honor of having one. Yet, here was Albert, standing at the center of the largest office on the ship, surrounded by books worth billions back on Earth.

    ¡°Can you rebuild your own body in the event of a disaster? Seal off blood vessels so that you don¡¯t bleed out onto the ground of some alien planet?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Can you shape a shield, protecting yourself from anything as long as there is Light to replenish what you lose?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know. How about keeping yourself safe by sending drones out to do your dirty work?¡±

    ¡°No, you know these answers.¡± The young man said, a touch of irritation in his voice.

    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right. I know these answers because you and I have the same ability.¡± Albert said, running his fingers along the brightly colored spines of the books. Jack had borrowed some of these novels, and even though he didn¡¯t quite understand the pop-culture references in Bill the Vampire, he¡¯d enjoyed it greatly. ¡°The point that I¡¯m trying to make is that Optics don¡¯t have the defensive capabilities some of our cousins have. Like it or not, you will be the target of fire one day, and unless you¡¯re able to create a link with every creature on that battlefield, there is always a chance you will get shot. I¡¯m glad that you want to get out there and do some good. And I¡¯m glad that you¡¯re confident in your skills. However, risking the life of an Optic when there are so few of us is nothing but foolish.¡±

    Jack leaned back in his chair, studying the dark mahogany desk as he carefully picked his words.

    ¡°Albert, according to the history books, there was a time when corpsmen had to find the place they fit best during battle. It was a fledgling army with fledgling powers. More often than not, using your powers creatively was the only way to adapt to the ever-changing conditions in the field. From what I understand, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for comms to live in the background, hiding away and trying not to get killed, since maintaining communications was more important than anything else. But in the end, it was still their choice.¡± Jack explained slowly, ¡°that said, no matter how drastically mankind changes, we are still creatures of habit. We will always push for the next great thing while holding on to our traditions with white-knuckled fury. Is it so wrong that a soldier with the same abilities as you found a place where he feels more comfortable? What about the tradition of choice? Do we just ignore that now?¡±

    ¡°When it endangers the greater mission, yes. Yours is the power of connection. If you fall, then so do those connections. Knowing that, isn¡¯t it so much better for you to remain on the ship where you can be safe?¡± Albert rebutted.

    ¡°And what if my lack of presence gets someone else killed? If I¡¯m down there, I can jump in and defend my ally. Up here, I can only scream into the void as they die.¡± Jack was getting annoyed, but he had to keep his cool or the Unranked Officer would count this as a win.

    ¡°We have to accept that soldiers die. We fight, and we die. If we protect our most important assets while doing so, we can minimize our losses.¡±

    Did he really just hear that? Did this man, a core member of the AHF, just say that letting people die was part of the job?

    ¡°Then tell me this. First Sergeant Summers is one of us and should have the same mentality. Instead, the man is always, and I mean always, on the ground with us. I have experienced firsthand what he can do. In your eyes, is he a fluke, or is he a fool?¡±

    ¡°Both. The man is a fool for putting himself in harm¡¯s way. However, I¡¯ve only ever seen a handful of Optics fight the way he does¡­ It goes against tradition.¡± Albert said, returning to his seat. ¡°But he fights from a distance and is a better sniper with a laser-sighted rifle than most Possessors. Are you suggesting that you have the physical stamina to pull off the same thing, but with a sword?¡±

    ¡°I did it on Algol pretty regularly. I do it in the training room every day. Enough training can make up for any lack of stamina I might have. By removing Optics from the front lines, the AHF has taken their ability to feed information to soldiers in real-time. We can watch our men up here, but we can¡¯t see through a creature we don¡¯t know exists. Down there, I can link with both allies and enemies to gain the knowledge I need to protect my squad.¡± He no longer cared what the ancient Optic thought of him, this was something he felt needed to be said, ¡°How can the members of my squad, or any squad, trust information that comes from a source that won¡¯t even get on the ground with them? How can I live with myself after watching them get hurt, always questioning if I could¡¯ve done something? If I follow your advice, how do I stop myself from being walled off and alienated from the people I¡¯m supposed to protect?¡±

    The words ¡°like you¡± didn¡¯t need to be spoken. Both men understood the implication without needing to say it out loud. Regardless of how much the Officer wanted to ignore it, the words were true. He had become so tired, so worn over the past millennia. Like an old piece of leather, time cracked him in all the wrong places. He knew what this boy was feeling, he remembered it himself. He¡¯d been there, he¡¯d seen it. The emotional damage a commander faced when he lost a man was high, but it paled compared to losing a friend.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Jack,¡± He said, breaking the silence that had once again fallen over the room, ¡°I¡¯m going to level with you. The truth is, I fear for all my students. Every single one that I¡¯ve trained is a friend. You are a friend, and frankly, I don¡¯t want to watch you die while I stand helpless on the prow of a ship thousands of light-years away.¡±

    Turning from the young soldier, he continued, ¡°I can¡¯t watch another student die because he has delusions of being something more than he is.¡±

    It was the first time Jack saw the man open up, banishing the god to reveal the man within. Most of the time, it was just philosophy and training, no more, no less. He¡¯d always imagined this was just some pointless assignment handed down by the senate to keep the Unranked Officers busy. He never thought the soldiers they trained actually meant something to these beings.

    ¡°That said,¡± he perked up, ¡°I know that you¡¯re not a glory-chaser. You¡¯re worried about your friends just as I worry about you. And since you will no longer be under my tutelage, I cannot force you to fight in a specific way. The best I can do is to continue offering my services and help you understand our power. Perhaps, in time, you will grow into the soldier you want to be.¡±

    Albert leaned back in his chair and eyes glowing with the violet light of his corps. Unlike his student, his power had been a part of him for so long that Jack doubted the man even noticed when he was using it.

    ¡°Drop yourself into the spectrum,¡± he said. ¡°Remember the exercise I taught you for expanding your range? I want you to focus on a single thread and connect it to as many points as possible. Instead of letting it taper off, pull the power back into yourself and finish the circuit.¡±

    Jack followed along. This wasn¡¯t the first time the two men had gone through this exercise, but more practice couldn¡¯t hurt.

    ¡°Search out your squad mates. Feel their presence on the ship and send your thread of Light through each one.¡±

    The process wasn¡¯t as easy as the old man pretended it was. On a ship this large, his friends could be anywhere and doing anything. Unfortunately, one downside to his power as an Optic was how often he caught people in awkward moments they had no desire to share.

    ¡°Good. Instead of letting the thread taper off, I want you to pull the far end of that frequency back into yourself. It will create a ring and terminate that thread. Then, start switching between viewpoints as fast as you can without getting sick.¡±

    Deep in the tapestry of Light, Jack cycled through the eyes of the nine soldiers in his squad. He wasn¡¯t gathering any actual information, but he could catch a few major details. When they¡¯d originally started working on this skill, Jack hadn¡¯t been able to handle the information overload and paid the price many times over. Now, he could hold this and two other threads with little difficulty.

    ¡°Extend the second thread, this time pulling it out from the audible range.¡±

    He always assumed his corps would be useless without a radio, but much to his surprise, he discovered sound as a frequency, had a pulse of Light.

    Connecting all ten soldiers caused the world around him to burst into sound and made him wince from the onslaught. He could feel a slight amount of pressure from holding so many connections, but it was far from his limit.

    ¡°Now, your Chain of Command.¡±

    It never felt right to connect to them, but it was for training and under the direct order of Albert Mayer himself. If anyone had an issue with it, they would need to take it up with the ornery old man themselves.

    A few moments later, he¡¯d crafted a link with his entire chain of command. Everyone, from his platoon leader to the battalion commander, was his to see. Again, Jack thought about how someone could abuse this power, but that was something he never could imagine himself doing.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to push you. Add a fourth and link it to me. Include all the security cameras onboard.¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± Jack asked. The two men hadn¡¯t used titles or honorifics since their second meeting. Albert made it perfectly clear early on that he wanted to be called by his name and not his title. That Jack was falling back on one now showed just how intimidating the idea was.

    Albert knew Jack had barely scratched the surface of controlling four strands. Adding a fourth would be more than his body was ready for. Unfortunately, they were near the end of his time with the Officer, and he wouldn¡¯t have the obligation of training Jack any longer.

    ¡°Just go for it. At worst, you¡¯ll go back to your room with a headache. But if I¡¯m right, you¡¯ll walk away with a better understand of handling four frequencies.¡±

    Focusing on his power, he pushed.

    Pain shot through his skull like a white-hot spike driven through both eyes. The young private buried his head in his hands and screamed. He couldn¡¯t do this. What kind of crazy asshole thought a private could handle this much?

    We Rise!

    A voice echoed through his mind. The words of his father drove back the pain and gave him something else to focus on. It was time to push himself; it was time to rise to the challenge.

    Did it hurt? Yes, more than anything.

    He forced the strand through the ship, connecting to every viewpoint he could find while doing so. It felt like molten iron being poured into his eyes, but he knew that if he could just¡­

    Jack pushed with everything he had and something inside him gave way. With the nebulous mental barrier gone, he pulled the thread of Light through one final camera. It was a viewpoint that looked into Albert¡¯s office and directly at Jack¡¯s chair. The glowing veins that were a side effect of his mutation blazed more intensely and extended farther than ever before. Instead of stopping at the neck as they normally did, the glowing network of lines inched farther down his torso the longer he held on.

    ¡°Drop them! Now!¡± Albert yelled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the fog descending into his mind.

    With more effort than it should¡¯ve taken, he dropped the painful thread of Light. But the damage was done., and the pain in his eyes didn¡¯t fade. He reached for the thread connecting him to command and severed the link, hoping the agony would lessen.

    It didn¡¯t.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing well, Jack,¡± Albert said, his voice a little stronger without all the noise in his brain. ¡°You¡¯ve pushed your body more than ever before. Release the last two threads and the pain will be just a memory.¡±

    He didn¡¯t believe it; he knew he was much weaker than other Optics. Measured against career soldiers, he was nothing but a child with a freak mutation that should¡¯ve faded during basic training. Most people lost the glow of power after a few months. But the doctor who¡¯d administered the Serum experimented on a trainee without authorization and gave Jack a second dose. Because of that, the veins of his face would glow a slight violet for the rest of his life, and he could never hide in a crowd again.

    But that was history. Now, he needed to clear his mind and drop the connections and lessen his pain.

    Focusing hard, his attention returned to the tapestry that made up all Light. There were still two loops tied to his body. He had to believe that the pain would end when they were gone. Groaning, he severed the third loop.

    The ache, which was so constant, finally lessened.

    It was true. Once the last strand was gone, his agony would just be a memory.

    Grabbing the last strand, he noticed it didn¡¯t end with him, but flowed off into oblivion. As he tried to release it, an image unrelated to any of his viewpoints flashed through his mind. It was just a heartbeat, maybe not even that, but it was burned into his memory.

    A man in red stood behind a much larger man in black, a pair of swords pressed to his neck. From this angle, it was clear the man in red was about to execute the other.

    Then it was gone, fading away as quickly as it had come. Jack knew he would never find that frequency again, but he wanted to see how it played out. Would the man in black be ok? Why was the one in red attacking?

    ¡°Good job today. Honestly, the past year has proven that you are capable of much growth.¡± Albert said, holding a handkerchief out to the young soldier. ¡°That wasn¡¯t easy. I could see that you gave the exercise everything you had.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jack mumbled, barely registering the words as they crossed his lips. Pressing the cloth to his eyes, he continued, ¡°I saw someone in that last moment.¡±

    ¡°And? Our power is the ability to see people. It isn¡¯t so uncommon that you did.¡±

    ¡°This person wasn¡¯t anyone I connected with, nor was it an electrical viewpoint. It was like a pastel drawing, a shadow of real people. But I saw exactly what was going to happen.¡± When he finally took the cloth away from his eyes, blood stained the white material.

    ¡°You may have seen something I call a ¡®Light Remanent,¡¯¡± Albert explained, walking to a bookshelf and pulling a thick notebook. ¡°Few Optics ever see them, and even fewer understand them. I believe they are like echoes in time, impressions made on the fabric of reality. I¡¯ve theorized that Light remembers everything it has ever touched, and everything it will ever touch. Since nothing can truly destroy a wave, only reduce it, its possible that an Optic with significant skill could gain insights of the future.¡±

    Albert stood in front of Jack¡¯s chair and handed him the thick tome. ¡°Here, you can borrow this. These are all the notes I have on these impressions. Hell, I¡¯m not even sure if they are past or future events, or if they are true at all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a cosmic anomaly that will bother me from time to time?¡± Jack asked, hesitantly taking the notebook.

    ¡°Basically, yes. Perhaps you¡¯ll be the one to teach me what they really are. After all, only the fool believes he knows everything.¡± Albert chuckled. ¡°Are you ready for the ceremony tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°As ready as I can be,¡± he answered. He wanted to know more, but he knew Albert wouldn¡¯t give him information without ensuring Jack did his own research first.

    ¡°Good,¡± he replied with a nod. They both knew the change in subject was blatant, but the men had enough tact not to point it out. ¡°I would tell you to get some sleep, but I¡¯m not stupid. I know that every member of your class will be at the bar, drinking until they can¡¯t see straight. So, rather than wasting my breath and you ignoring me, I¡¯m just going to tell you to be careful.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jack replied, walking to the door with the notebook in hand.

    ¡°And Jack?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°If you see another Remanent, write it down exactly and send it to me. They might be nothing, but then again, they might hold the answers to questions we don¡¯t know to ask yet.¡±

    ¡°Of course, you be careful as well. Rumor says you Unranked Officers party pretty hard when a class graduates.¡± Jack smiled, stepping out of the office for the last time as a trainee.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 59

    ¡°The AHF wants you!

    Have you always wanted to put your skills to the test? To fight aliens and defend planets like yours?

    Well, you¡¯re in luck. The AHF has a recruitment center near you!

    Build your future, have an adventure, see the stars!¡±

    ¨C Recruitment poster from Phoenix Prime.

    ¡°Another round over here!¡± Dave yelled across the bar. Unfortunately, the chorus of cheers that followed made it nearly impossible for the bartender to hear. Fortunately, the man had worked onboard an AHF ship for long enough to know exactly what soldiers wanted, and how often they wanted it.

    On an average night, the Flooded Boot was crowded, but not uncomfortably so.

    That was not the case tonight.

    It was the last night of a two-year journey for the privates of the Seventh Brigade. And, as all privates do, they¡¯d collectively ended this portion of their career with as many bad choices as possible while hoping their future commanders didn¡¯t have long memories.

    Ironically, Dave was one of the few people not making bad choices. Instead, he sat on a barstool in the corner with an acoustic guitar in his hands. Over the past year, he¡¯d built a decent reputation for his uncanny ability to pull on heartstrings with just an instrument and his voice.

    The Georgian cowboy didn¡¯t bother standing for the crowd, and they didn¡¯t bother asking him. He didn¡¯t believe standing was necessary to make good music, and the crowd knew that. He¡¯d rather sit and enjoy the night than stand and get tired.

    ¡°You know,¡± Warren said to the other members of Turaspeir while Dave played in the background, ¡°I always knew he was about as country as it got, but I would¡¯ve never pegged him for a musician.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s always hated the way people get sucked into games and Tv. I can¡¯t tell you the number of times he and I would just sit in the barn with a cold beer and a guitar,¡± Alec explained. ¡°It was nice to just sit back and enjoy life before¡­¡±

    He didn¡¯t need to go further with that story. Both he and Dave had long ago shared their stories of loss. Apparently, a rebellious attitude toward leadership was just in their nature. For a while, the authorities left their families alone since they caused no actual harm to anyone. Their little meetings gave the locals a way to express their discontent toward the government without hurting the political game plan.

    Eventually, they crossed that magical threshold between eccentric and threatening. Like every corrupt system, it was only a matter of time before the officials turned both families into examples of what happens when you stand up to corruption. With their families gone, the requirements on farming increasing, and Dave losing his land to eminent domain, the decision to sell everything and start over was an easy one.

    ¡°Before we get sucked into that particular black hole,¡± Warren said, sensing the darkening mood around the table, ¡°who¡¯s ready to be a real soldier?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Nessa said, leaning back in her chair and taking a deep pull from her drink. ¡°It feels like this training bit has lasted a lifetime already.¡±

    ¡°I would hardly call two years a lifetime,¡± Jack replied. ¡°Honestly, though, it is scary to think that we¡¯ll be out in the field alone during a live mission. Sure, we¡¯ve gone on patrols with the other squads, but this is the first time it will be real.¡±

    ¡°I hear what you¡¯re saying, but I¡¯m calling bullshit. We¡¯ve spent the past two years learning how to handle just about every conceivable situation.¡± Warren shook his head. ¡°I mean, look at it, those ¡®shadow missions¡¯ weren¡¯t exactly in the nicest areas. More often than not, they were actual missions with actual fire we had to help with. We were just delegated to the rear of the fight.¡±

    As much as the others wanted to deny what the wiry man was saying, they knew he had a point. They¡¯d already been in live-fire situations. Was it with more experienced soldiers standing next to them? Yes, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t true combat. This would be the first time out on their own without the older soldiers holding their hands, and that was the only reason any of them were worried.

    "Where will we get deployed first?" Thea wondered as she gazed through the crowd of people surrounding the cowboy. ¡°As long as it has a bar for Dave to play in, I don¡¯t think we¡¯d mind much.¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt that hanging out in a bar will ever be part of our mission briefing.¡± Diego said, taking a drag from his drink, ¡°Although I wouldn¡¯t be upset if we landed a planet side duty for a year or so.¡±

    ¡°You say that now, but I promise you that every person at this table would go well past the point of boredom within a week.¡± Heather said with a laugh, ¡°It will be nice to go by Turaspeir instead of ¡®Wolf pups¡¯, though.¡±

    ¡°We all know that it won¡¯t even be an entire mission before they drop the Tura and just call us Speir,¡± Nessa grinned.

    It was nice to see the intense woman smiling. Jack knew she held an incredible amount of baggage inside, but never really talked about it with anyone. If they could just get her to open up, she would be a different person altogether.

    ¡°Yeah, but at least it will be a glorious half-mission. No matter how hard they try to change it, we¡¯ll always be us,¡± Dave said, walking over and putting an arm around Heather and Nessa. ¡°Speaking of not changing; Jack, how did the old fart handle you wanting to be close-range?¡±

    ¡°Same as he has for the last year, how else?¡± Jack replied, ¡°The man hates the idea that any member of his corps will see action, and he will do anything and everything in his power to convince a new Optic to stay safe on the ship. He treats Summers like a maverick and obviously wishes he would¡¯ve been drummed out years ago.¡±

    ¡°That bad?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I get his point. He is worried about all soldiers and doesn¡¯t want to see any of us die, Optics especially. He basically told me that the proper place for a comms guy is as far back as possible. If he had his way, I¡¯d never step foot outside my cabin.¡± Jack explained, ¡°But he also said that since we graduate tomorrow, our mistakes are our own and if we choose to ignore his advice, so are the consequences.¡±

    ¡°But if you¡¯re good at being on the front lines, why the hell would he try to convince you otherwise?¡± Alec asked incredulously.

    ¡°Because we are so rare,¡± Jack answered, ¡°And unfortunately, it¡¯s the only part of the argument that I can¡¯t deny. Out of every thousand recruits, only about ten end up becoming Optics. Of those, only a few will ever be able to handle more than three strings.¡±

    Including myself. Jack thought bitterly. Why was it he couldn¡¯t push himself farther when he put so much damned work into it? What was the point of the permanent marks on his face if he couldn¡¯t even be a hair stronger than average?

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°You can fight however you damn well please. We will have your back no matter where you are on that field,¡± Diego said.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Nessa said hesitantly, ¡°Truth be told, Albert has a point. Jack, maybe you should consider hanging toward the rear of our formation. If it protects you, it¡¯s worth it, right?¡±

    ¡°Whose side are you on?¡± Dave said, slack-jawed.

    ¡°The one that keeps my friend alive.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m for. My entire reason for existing is to stop the bad shit from ever getting close to you guys.¡± He said, pounding on his chest, ¡°And so far I¡¯m pretty damned good at my job.¡±

    ¡°As long as his ego can stop a bullet, we¡¯ll never get hurt.¡± Alec snorted.

    ¡°Putting Dave¡¯s ego aside,¡± Thea began, ¡°If we can¡¯t keep each other alive with the skill we have now, we have no right to call ourselves soldiers. Putting one of our most valuable assets in the back may be the smart money move, but who said we have to take it? Jack is just as versatile as the rest of us, and I challenge you to say that¡¯s not true.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll agree that he is a skilled fighter, and a damned good one at that. I just want him to remember that our ability to communicate is what saves lives, not our ability to kill. If he needs to pull back to save his skin, I expect him to throw me in the way so that we can all escape.¡± Nessa conceded.

    ¡°She has a good point,¡± Jack defended. It was almost funny. He was more than willing to argue this point with the founder of his corps, but when it was a friend saying the same thing, it just started making sense. ¡°Can we accept that I can fight up front, but may need to fall back if the situation gets too hot?¡±

    Nods around the table told him that yes, they not only agreed but would do everything they could to make sure everyone would always get home in one piece.

    ¡°Hey, I just thought of something,¡± Alec said, sipping on his drink. ¡°Back on Algol, we were told that the Officers all had old Earth Navy ranks, but that¡¯s bullshit. We have captains, colonels, generals, the whole nine. What the hell is that about?¡±

    ¡°Does it really matter? It probably relates to the different types of unit, but we hadn¡¯t been exposed to that yet,¡± Warren shrugged.

    Dave slammed his beer and announced that his break was over and his adoring fans needed more. The job didn¡¯t pay, but they correctly assumed that he just enjoyed the music a little too much to be away from it for long.

    Deep in thought, Jack placed his empty glass on the table and made his way out of the crowded bar. So many privates were celebrating tonight like it was college graduation, but he just couldn¡¯t see it like that. To him, this marked the beginning of the real world. And, no matter how often he said otherwise, he was terrified.

    He had to admit that both Albert and Nessa were right. Keeping the Optic off the battlefield would never be a bad move, especially since it meant the support soldier would never fall in a fight. However, choosing to stay behind also meant living with the potential that a friend might die. If that happened, he would never stop wondering if he could¡¯ve stopped it.

    Tomorrow wasn¡¯t a promised thing in life, and that rings especially true for soldiers.

    ~~**~~

    Jack stepped off the elevator onto the dark gray metal floor of the observation deck. Unlike the ship that brought them to Algol, the observatory on the Washington existed in perpetual darkness. The only light allowed here was the faint glow of the floor lights leading to the exit. Above, a thick layer of transparent steel stood as the only separation between him and the vacuum of space.

    He would never tire of seeing those distant celestial bodies. Every time he visited this place, the sight of them took his breath away. Unlike the view from a planet¡¯s surface, the complete lack of light pollution made this scene unlike anything else.

    ¡°I still find them beautiful, no matter where we are,¡± Thea said quietly as she sidled up to him. The words were a whisper, almost like she was afraid to break the sanctity of silence in this room, ¡°Especially the Nebulas.¡±

    ¡°They are nothing compared to you,¡± Jack whispered, wrapping his arms around her. He knew it was cheesy, but they¡¯d been dating regularly for the past year, and she knew that the complexity of his words did not match his depth of feeling. They spent so much time with their squad, it was difficult to remember who they really were.

    But when they could be alone, the observatory was their favorite place to go. They could be themselves.

    ¡°Be nice,¡± she said, wriggling out of his arms. ¡°It¡¯s dark, but not that dark.¡±

    ¡°Could you imagine sleeping under these stars?¡± Jack said, ignoring her innuendo.

    ¡°No. The floor is steel, and the room is cold. Even if I wore my uniform, I¡¯d freeze my ass off.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason for us to get a little closer,¡± he said, chuckling and taking her hand in his.

    ¡°Yes, because we have enough body heat to warm up a deck that is roughly the size of the ship,¡± she replied flatly.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I really do. And I also know that there is no way in hell I¡¯m getting naked on this cold metal.¡±

    ¡°Psh, where¡¯s your sense of adventure?¡± he laughed, turning his eyes back to the stars but keeping his mind solely on her. He¡¯d dated a few women back on Earth, but his endless sarcasm always drove them away. Fortunately, Thea seemed to be immune to his comments. If anything, she was far worse than he was in that department.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t know what to do,¡± he sighed, ¡°I hear what Albert is saying and I understand it logically, but every time I think ¡­ I just can¡¯t take one of you getting hurt because I wasn¡¯t there to warn you about the bad guy around the corner. No matter how many times someone like Dave would say it wasn¡¯t my fault, I would always feel responsible for what happened.¡±

    ¡°Every Officer that has sent a soldier into battle knows that feeling, Jack, you¡¯re just a hair ahead of the curve. Think about it, every corps has its own set of pathways for a soldier to make. Hell, the Phantoms alone have three. We have to make those choices for ourselves, but it is up to our teachers to tell us what those options are.¡± She explained, ¡°Do you remember how conflicted I was when I made the choice between field medic and assassin?¡±

    ¡°That was more of a morality question though, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°And yours isn¡¯t?¡±

    That made him think, was his predicament more a question of morality, or bravery?

    If he listened to Albert, his beliefs were nothing more than bullheaded selfishness that would inevitably lead to his own death. And he could see why the old man thought that way, especially when Jack¡¯s choice was really based on preference rather than strategy.

    But something inside him told him to listen to his heart. He could never sit idly by while his friends died. Especially when that death would follow the intelligence he provided. Could he satisfy both strategy and his heart at the same time? Could he find a balance and move around the battlefield?

    What about Summers?

    The man spent his entire life in the field fighting the good fight, moving from the front to the back, depending on what the situation called for. Could he do the same?

    ¡°Would you do it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already made that choice, and the answer is yes. I spent the last year learning how to take the enemy out with a touch. Yes, I learned how to heal, but I can also recognize that the more useful place for me is with my platoon.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t they target me as soon as they see my Light?¡±

    ¡°Even if the enemy somehow knows the link between our powers and the color Light we use, they would have to make it through nine other soldiers before they even got near you. Even if we all die in the process, we have our mental imprints up here on the ship. We would all be Steel Cast by morning.¡±

    ¡°I would hate to be one of those things,¡± he said, just the idea of being made into one of them making a shiver run down his back.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°No sensation, no sense of touch or taste, no smells¡­ just¡­ existence.¡±

    Thea actually laughed. ¡°Do you really think they can¡¯t feel anything? You honestly believe that the same people who designed Officer Hargrave¡¯s body wouldn¡¯t include some sort of sensory array? Jack, the only difference between humans and Casts is who you visit when you get hurt.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes really. Did you think that an Unranked Officer would live for a thousand years and not perfect his mechanical body?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ Kinda?¡± he said, scratching his neck and looking down in embarrassment.

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± she replied playfully. ¡°A Steel Cast can even get laid. They have every single external body part that a regular person has.¡±

    His mind drifted to a world where he could just go to the nearest Steel Cast shop and buy upgrades for his body. ¡°That could get¡­ interesting.¡±

    ¡°You bet it could.¡± Thea said, making him wonder just how she knew these things, ¡°Albert knows all of this, but he dislikes Casts. Theresa says it has something to do with the Uncanny Valley or something like that.¡±

    ¡°I wonder why?¡±

    ¡°Rumor has it he never wanted to build that first body for Hargrave. Apparently, he thought building anything that so closely resembled a person was unnatural. It¡¯s why Hargrave¡¯s first few bodies were so¡­ alien.¡±

    Her explanation made sense when he really thought about it. If Albert had been so opposed to that first attempt, Jack wondered how he felt now that Steel Casts were nearly indistinguishable from humans.

    ¡°I think this is enough self-reflection for one night. Do you want to go make some more bad decisions with the rest of our friends?¡±

    ¡°Is a duck¡¯s ass watertight?¡± she laughed, pulling him back toward the elevator.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 60

    ¡°The AHF has no right to recruit from civilized worlds. Why can¡¯t they just keep using backwaters like Earth? I mean, come on, who cares what happens to those guys? I don¡¯t want my kids going off to die in a war that doesn¡¯t matter to me.¡± ¨C From Ron Cannity in the Evening, March 12, 3265.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± Brigadier General Sloan said from her podium at the head of the parade ground. The entire brigade was in attendance and dressed for the occasion. Across the field, soldiers in fine dress uniforms were only distinguishable from one another by rank and the colored strip along their sleeves.

    ¡°As you¡¯re all aware, today is a very special day for the privates in our brigade. Some of you are tired of doing this every year, and frankly, so am I. But all we need to do is look back to when we stood in their spot, and the importance of this event comes crashing back.¡±

    A laugh rippled through the crowd at the general¡¯s bad joke.

    ¡°When I stood there, what feels like a lifetime ago, I never would¡¯ve imagined that I would be the stuffy overbearing officer giving the commencement speech. Well, that just goes to show you that no matter how hard you try, you never really know where you¡¯ll be in fifty or sixty years.¡±

    She stopped to take a sip of water and continued.

    ¡°Every single one of you could¡¯ve opted out at the last minute and stayed home on Earth. You could¡¯ve been a doctor, a lawyer, a miner, or any number of other professions that kept you safe. However, each of you knew you were called for more. Sure, you tried to tell yourself it was the only option, but you know that¡¯s not true. You went through countless hours of drills, exercise, and pain so that you could stand up and protect our republic. You chose to protect the innocent, so that the innocent may still dream.¡±

    ¡°Today, we welcome new soldiers into the ranks of a military at war. I won¡¯t lie to you and say that it is a temporary state because the nature of our universe is war. Peace is something we soldiers dream of, and what we¡¯ve all been dreaming of since the Founders first took Mars. We fight, hoping there might one day be peace.¡±

    ¡°So long as the republic breeds patriots like you, that hope will never fade. We will stand at the ramparts, unapologetic and apolitical, to defend what we¡¯ve built. We hold the line, faithful to duty, and confront our foes with implacable will. For every person who calls the United Human Republic home, we hold that line.

    ¡°Privates of the Seventh brigade; two steps forward, march!¡±

    In a practiced movement, the five-hundred soldiers followed the order called out by the Brigade Command Sergeant Major.

    ¡°We melted you down in the fiercest climate we could find and forged you into a blade. Then, fresh from the hell that is Algol, we brought you here and tempered you. As you learned, we sharpened you into a sword worthy of the title. And now, after all of that, you will be tested on the front line.¡±

    ¡°I am beyond proud to call you brothers and sisters in arms. When destiny tapped you on the shoulder, you didn¡¯t run, you stepped up and joined our ranks. Life will be tough. You will have days when you must fight in the cold and without sleep. But I, for one, can say that I will feel better knowing that we have you at our backs.¡±

    First Sergeant Summers stepped up to Jack and handed him the official brigade patch that would be on the arm of every uniform he wore. It was simple, a white starburst with crossed swords on a shield of violet, but he would wear it with pride.

    ¡°You have earned the right to wear this patch,¡± the General said, ¡°do it knowing that you are not the first, nor the last to do so. If they haven¡¯t done so already, your battalion will soon welcome you into their family with a patch as well. Wear them both with pride.¡±

    ¡°Privates of the Seventh Brigade; two steps backward, march!¡± The Command Sergeant Major ordered.

    ¡°Seventh Mechanized Infantry,¡± General Sloan called, ¡°Please welcome our newest members.¡±

    Applause burst from the ranks of every battalion onboard the Washington. After spending a year with these privates, many soldiers had already come to call them family. Truthfully, the brigade patch didn¡¯t matter to most of them, but the battalion did. They were the people the soldiers would spend most of their time with, and they were the ones that had long ago accepted them into their ranks.

    Several minutes after the General left, Captain Griffin handed out the Iron Panther¡¯s unit patch and promptly released them from duty. They were free to do as they saw fit, but it was ¡®highly recommended¡¯ that older soldiers spend it showing the privates a good time.

    That recommendation didn¡¯t need to be made.

    Before they were even off the field, a flask was being passed around. From the smell alone, Jack knew they had probably made this particular brew in the cabin of some career specialist. It was most assuredly not something that anyone could buy from an establishment on the hub-ship.

    ¡°Hey newbie, don¡¯t you dare spill my ¡®special sauce,¡¯¡± a wiry man said when the flask finally made it into Jack¡¯s hands, ¡°I made it from some vegetable we found on this really weird planet¡­ Truth be told, I really don¡¯t even remember what planet that was.¡±

    ¡°It tastes like paint thinner!¡± Another soldier warned from somewhere nearby.

    After taking a swig from the container, Jack found that he, unfortunately, had to agree with the man. The booze was both the strongest and worst tasting thing he¡¯d ever put in his mouth.

    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯ll make you see god in a hooker¡¯s asshole, and that¡¯s what counts,¡± the wiry man shot back.

    ¡°Dammit Jim, you did not see god in that woman¡¯s asshole,¡± a third soldier said, pulling the flask out of Jack¡¯s hand and taking a deep swig.

    Before he could get swept up in what was quickly becoming a confrontation, Jack slipped out of the crowd in search of Thea. If the company was going to spend the day drunk, it was a pretty good assumption that two missing privates would not be noticed.

    And even if someone eventually noticed that a few people were missing, all that meant was more booze for them.

    ~~**~~

    While Warren enjoyed being out with his friends once in a while, he didn¡¯t particularly like anything that could be described as fast and loud. Fortunately or not, the friends he¡¯d made over the past two years demanded he occasionally attend these incredibly uncomfortable events.

    There was something about watching people he knew and loved voluntarily give up their ability to make common sense decisions that bothered him. Would he take advantage of those situations to get a little personal time in with whatever cute guy forgot how straight he was pretending to be? Definitely. But he always felt a hair guilty the day after.

    Though, taking care of himself always came second to the main reason he went to these parties. Truthfully, he spent most of his time at these functions trying to ensure his friends were ok and didn¡¯t need to go to the medical wing. He¡¯d told himself a long time ago that he would never force a friend to sort themselves out alone, especially if they were too far gone to do it themselves.

    That didn¡¯t mean that he wouldn¡¯t outright mock that person in the morning. Hell, he¡¯d been known to sneak into Nessa¡¯s cabin and turn the lights on just to watch her get angry.

    Instead of doing something that would make his best friend mad at him, again, he was choosing to spend the time off on something that never disappointed him the way people had. He would never say that computers were better than his friends, but in the jungle of his mind, computers and tech always seemed to make so much more sense than people.

    It was almost comical how perfect his corps was for him.

    This place was like his sanctum sanctorum. It only granted access to those who could use the security terminal, and it had no physical interface. That meant that only fellow Possessors, and a few technically gifted Dragoons, would ever see the rows upon rows of equipment that ran the massive hub-ship.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Like every data floor in history, there was a small wall of desks in the corner with several amenities that would make a safety inspector feint in horror. But, since there was no inspector on the Washington capable of entering this room without help, they had no fear of their transgressions being discovered.

    Who was going to complain about a few couches, anyway?

    A series of loud thunks came from various locks as the first set of doors closed and the second opened. All data floors in the AHF were built like this one, and it was completely asinine. If someone wanted to get in badly enough, they would, with or without the mantrap.

    Warren sat at a desk he¡¯d long since claimed as his and prepared to further his search into the dirty little secrets that were so well hidden in the organization. They tried to hide them, so naturally, the Possessors had made a game of finding out as much as they could.

    He found something the other night, but hadn¡¯t had the time to really dig in. Tonight, though, nobody was looking for him to be anywhere in particular.

    It did not surprise him to find the information hidden in plain sight; the brass knew that anything too well concealed stood out like a sore thumb when the right people were looking, but it surprised him to find out just how many layers of encryption were encasing it.

    Dropping his mind into a computer took multiple forms depending on his needs, but it always began the same. First, he would feel the energy gathering along his spine, as if his nervous system was eager to be transferred into another vessel. Then, he would push Light into the target machine, allowing part of his consciousness to follow. In this state, he didn¡¯t need an interface to control the equipment, though some Possessors still preferred it. His will alone was enough to direct the actions of a computer at this level of possession.

    This was called split immersion. He was still aware of the outside world, but he devoted most of his concentration to the machine. For what he needed tonight, though, he would need to enter the realm of Full Immersion.

    While in that state, a Possessor had no awareness of the outside world, including his own body. In return for this incredibly compromised position, he would essentially become the machine he was interacting with. Any drone or computer he was controlling this way became more than a simple extension of self. It became his body.

    The world fell away as he immersed himself in the hub-ship¡¯s ¡®mind.¡¯ Before reaching the second layer of encryption, he¡¯d already broken the passwords and was working on the third.

    At some point in the last year, they had asked him to take part in a pilot program that linked small fighter spacecraft back to the ship. It was a beautiful piece of technology that incorporated the abilities of three different corps. But that wasn¡¯t the best part. The best part was that he¡¯d been taught how to circumvent most security on the ship so that he could access these machines much faster.

    He was on the fifth level of security. Firewalls were making themselves known and refused to be circumvented. He would need to be careful here. The fifth layer of encryption was where the Possessor piloting the main ship floated his mind. As tempting as it was to play a round of ¡®who¡¯s in control¡¯ with the other soldier, it would not end well if he got caught.

    Driven by curiosity, he dove deeper.

    Covertly cloning the identity of the ship¡¯s pilot rewarded him with the passwords to the sixth and seventh layers of encryption. The last time he was this deep in the system, he¡¯d learned more about how the machinery worked than he¡¯d ever wanted to know.

    It wasn¡¯t fair of him to pretend like every level of this system didn¡¯t hold information; it was a well-known fact that every security protocol on this ship was designed to let people in if they were seeking to better themselves.

    Well, that was exactly what he was doing, wasn¡¯t it?

    The data was flowing into his brain as he searched, copying into himself like a standard hard drive. At one point, he found a complete schematic for the Washington, and could finally grasp the enormity of what it truly was; a massive aircraft carrier.

    They loaded every hub-ship down with ten battalions of a thousand soldiers each. Unlike past military units, these battalions rarely¡ªif ever¡ªfought side by side. Instead, it was far more common for each company to deploy individually to handle specific types of missions. In fact, joint operations were so rare, it was easy to forget you were part of a larger force.

    Most people would look at this setup and think there was some strange sort of dislike for one another. However, that assumption couldn¡¯t be farther from the truth. They didn¡¯t incorporate such an odd system of management because of mistrust, but because they trusted their counterparts to call for help if needed.

    More schematics presented themselves, and hit Warren with another download of information. Each company¡¯s headquarters was more than a sectioned-off area of the ship. It was a fully autonomous vessel that could detach from the parent. Just like the carriers of old, a hub-ship could scramble their companies for battle with just a few minutes¡¯ notice.

    Before being forcefully stopped, he managed to break through two more layers of encryption. The comparably soft, well-structured, mental playground built by dozens of Possessors over the decades ended abruptly, replaced with a foggy, white film that wouldn¡¯t let him go any further.

    When he touched the barrier, code visibly spread outward in a wave. Like a toddler pressing too heavily on a screen, the harder he pressed, the more solid the block became.

    This was what he was looking for. There was no reason someone would put blocks this difficult inside the ship¡¯s main computer. If any enemy could break through that much encryption, Warren was positive it was an enemy he didn¡¯t want to encounter.

    He focused every ounce of his will on a single point, pushing his mind into the barrier with all the force of a needle punching through steel. If he¡¯d been aware of his physical body at all, he would¡¯ve realized he¡¯d taken this too far.

    The pain was immense, but the goal remained firmly in his mind. Later, he would see security video of himself shaking in his chair, blood pouring out of his nose and ears from the intensity.

    With a burst of effort, he finally punched through to the other side. As quickly as it had come, the pain was gone without a trace.

    The space inside was not some container for a nefarious virus, waiting to turn off life support for the entire brigade. Nor was it protecting some odd digital alien lifeform. Instead, stone columns and tall bookshelves extended into the dark as far as he could see.

    ¡°Very good, Private.¡±

    He spun in search of the voice, only to find the massive library still as devoid of life as it was when he entered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the time to come here myself and show you around. You know how busy I am. I built this place as a fount of knowledge for you and other Possessors in search of information.¡±

    Warren realized he knew that voice. He¡¯d only heard twice before, but it was none other than Tobias Ross, Unranked Officer of the Possession Corps.

    ¡°Well, since you don¡¯t seem too keen on talking, let me tell you a little about this place.¡± Tobias said, his digital form materializing in front of Warren, ¡°You are deep enough into the digital world that physical manifestations are possible. You are not just an avatar. Here, a temporary copy of your mind is created to work alongside your physical body.¡±

    ¡°This was the first thing I built when I learned how to dive this deeply into the machines, but I digress,¡± he continued. ¡°I built a perfect copy of the Library of Alexandria. Of course, it¡¯s a little bigger than the original, but the purpose is the same as it was thousands of years ago. In here, you will find a copy of every piece of literature, manual, and secret we have at your fingertips.¡±

    ¡°Is this some sort of joke?¡±

    ¡°Joke? No. Secret? Definitely. Warren, if someone outside of our corps were to find this place, there would be a Senate ruling for me to destroy it before the hour was out. I don¡¯t really want to do that, not only because the idea of destroying another Library of Alexandria is appalling, but because I don¡¯t want to be forced to build another one.¡±

    Warren was astounded, and he wasn¡¯t even sure if it was in a good way or not. Here he was, inside the digital version of the most famous library in history, and he was being told that he couldn¡¯t share it with anyone. Not only was the place itself probably breaking more than a few protocols, but the information it contained was priceless.

    ¡°How does it work? Do I just¡­ take a book?¡±

    ¡°Well, now that you know about its existence, it won¡¯t be so hard for you to get in next time,¡± he replied, ignoring the question. ¡°You should see yourself. Breaking through that last barrier really took it out of you. I mean, you¡¯re bleeding, shaking, and just all around looking like a bad time.¡±

    The Unranked Officer waved his hand, and a new access code burned itself into Warren¡¯s memory.

    ¡°Now, you¡¯ll still need to get down to level ten encryption. But this way, you don¡¯t have to hurt yourself getting in.¡±

    The Private was still confused. But when he turned to ask more questions, the avatar of the powerful Possessor had disappeared. Apparently, that was all the information it would give him on the subject, and it really didn¡¯t matter if he wanted anything more.

    He reached for a volume at random. The moment his fingers brushed the surface of the spine, information flooded into his mind. It didn¡¯t come in text or blueprints like other information he¡¯d gathered from the central server. Instead, it unfolded in his mind like a movie shot from multiple points of view.

    The information lacked crucial parts of the story and was disjointed, but it still conveyed a message. Some scenes felt familiar, but he knew that was impossible. The fragmented clips of audio that accompanied the scenes clarified some parts, but muddied others.

    He saw Officer Hargrave, standing beside an alien with silvery skin, hands extended in a sign of friendship.

    Flash

    He saw a document laid out on a table, signed by all seven of the Unranked Officers.

    Flash

    An alien, like the first but connected to dozens of tubes and wearing a mask that resembled a pharaoh¡¯s, signed the same document, and said, ¡°Our two peoples will be joined under a common banner.¡±

    Flash

    Officer Tobias ushered people by the hundred onto a ship that looked human in design. ¡°This is the only way to keep you safe.¡±

    Dozens of scenes flicked before his eyes, faster and faster before eventually they just¡­ stopped.

    Awareness of his digital self returned, his hand still touching the spine of the book that just revealed its secrets.

    Pain burned down his back like a white-hot scalpel ripping open his flesh. He¡¯d overextended his power, and if he didn¡¯t remove himself from this place soon, it would consume him.

    Running back to the white, filmy barrier, he transmitted the access codes and passed without difficulty. The moment he was through, the barrier resealed and became an impassible wall once more.

    But even then, the pain was still present.

    Warren pushed with all his will and shot upward, all the way to the first layer of security. He could feel his body again, and he knew the pain he felt was both physical and digital. With the last of his strength, he ejected himself from the machine and back into the material world.

    His brain was on fire, his back felt like someone had surgically removed his spine, and he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of wetness around his mouth and neck. As the last of his strength faded, he touched that strange, sticky wetness and looked at his blood-soaked fingers.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 61

    ¡°This is a blatant restriction of the press. You and I can¡¯t go out and buy a ship capable of Gate travel. Because of that, we can¡¯t verify what they¡¯re telling us. They tell us who we can talk to, they tell us where we can go. What happened to the freedom of travel? Call your senator and demand to be allowed travel to Earth.¡±¡ªFrom The observation room, April 3, 3265.

    Jack woke to an incessant alarm drilling into his brain and forcing him to consciousness. After the previous day¡¯s¡ªand night¡¯s¡ªendeavor, he had what could only be described as the king of all hangovers. The alarm, combined with a truly horrific headache, resulted in what was possibly the worst morning of his life.

    ¡°Shut the hell up, Bob,¡± he grumbled at the AI living in his HUD. While new recruits had to remove the device at night to recharge, a fully mutated soldier did not. It was such an ingrained part of a person¡¯s identity that not wearing one was just odd. ¡°Can¡¯t you see that we¡¯ve had a hard night?¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, excuse me then. Perhaps I should just let you sleep in and miss formation? And by the way, a party does not constitute a hard night, it constitutes fun.¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah. How about I drop you out of an airlock?¡± Jack retorted, slowly climbing to his feet and noticing Thea¡¯s absence, ¡°Um¡­ Where¡¯s Thea?¡±

    ¡°Busy being a responsible adult that can get herself out of bed in the morning, even after what you call a ¡®hard night.¡¯¡±

    ¡°When did she leave?¡±

    Jack moved to their shared closet and grabbed a clean uniform.

    ¡°When the first notice went out.¡±

    ¡°What first notice?¡± he replied, getting annoyed.

    ¡°Now you want to know? A second ago, you were telling me to shut the hell up. Now you¡¯re sooo interested in why I was trying to get you up in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Bob,¡± Jack threatened as he slipped on his boots.

    ¡°Yes, yes. You inconsiderate organics will never let a machine speak its peace. If you must know, they have summoned you to the briefing room. And if you¡¯d have woken up with the last alarm, you would have more than six minutes to get there.¡±

    Shocked, Jack sprinted out of his cabin and just barely got into a lift before the doors closed. Most mornings, the lift was free of people. But today, it was packed with soldiers reporting to their various duty stations around the ship.

    If he missed part of the briefing, it would mean losing valuable information. Especially considering that Captain Griffin had a reputation for not waiting on anyone, especially not a freshly graduated private late to a formation.

    When Jack opened the doors to Charlie Companies¡¯ briefing room, he moved quietly into formation. A side glance from First Sergeant Summers confirmed he wasn¡¯t as sneaky as he thought, and that Jack would hear something about it later.

    ¡°Where were you?¡± Nessa whispered harshly.

    ¡°Sleeping off the bender of a lifetime,¡± he replied. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°Slept here. I knew it would be rough, so I had my HUD bring me here before I passed out.¡±

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ Irish,¡± Jack replied in a poor imitation of her accent.

    ¡°Got me here on time, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Shit Ness, that¡¯s almost as bad as going to a date in your barn clothes,¡± Dave joined. ¡°Ask Alec. He can tell you all about that one.¡±

    ¡°Not right now, he can¡¯t,¡± Thea said. ¡°The better question is; how did you know we were going to be called in this morning?¡±

    ¡°Because the old guys said they do this every time a new batch of Privates hits the field. They plan an insanely early briefing and expect you to be here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,¡± she replied. ¡°I figured that if I could figure it out, so could you.¡±

    ¡°Well, we didn¡¯t. And I didn¡¯t even have time to find underwear for this little shindig,¡± Alec added.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t need¡ª¡± Warren began.

    ¡°Company, Attention!¡± First Sergeant Summers called as the Commander walked in.

    ¡°As you were. Good morning, Charlie. As you¡¯ve probably put together, we have a mission,¡± she said, quickly making her way to the middle of the room. ¡°I know, I know. This formation is usually just to screw with the newbies, but today is different. Unfortunately, we don¡¯t have the luxury of sending the new squad down to the planet in search of something that doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    A laugh rolled through the company, proving that today was normally a day to mess with the new soldiers. The laughter ceased when the Captain called up a hologram of a planet Jack knew nothing about. Before he could get a good look, she flicked her wrist, and it spun.

    ¡°Before you is the jungle planet of Rymea. It is primarily inhabited by a race of sentient lizard-like people called the Oteric. Don¡¯t be too worried, they are not nearly the monsters the Zvarnnaja are. Instead, these guys resemble the little geckos that are such a pain to get out of your home.¡±

    The display changed to reveal a small, diminutive creature that couldn¡¯t be more than waist high on a human. With thin skin and opposable thumbs, they could easily be ancient cousins of humans with a different evolutionary turn.

    ¡°Fortunately for us, the Oteric have some of the best engineers in this galaxy. I dare say that if we gave them the right materials and equipment, they could build things we¡¯d never imagine.¡±

    The display changed again, and she continued, ¡°They¡¯ve built an experimental sub-light engine we want. Based on our spy¡¯s information, this machine could easily increase our maneuverability by sixty percent. Our job, you may have guessed, is to steal it.¡±

    Jack already didn¡¯t like what he was hearing. But as a private, it wasn¡¯t his place to question such things.

    ¡°Luckily for us, they are not terribly warlike and their military is extremely primitive. It¡¯s the perfect mission for our new soldiers.¡±

    The hologram returned to the planet¡¯s surface and zoomed in on a specific area.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Because of the high magnetism on the surface, and not knowing the exact location of the goods, we won¡¯t be going by Gate for this little grab and go. Instead, you will ride in drop pods down to the surface and assault the lab from there. Once you are ready for extraction, your armor will act as a beacon for the Gate technician.¡±

    The Captain turned off the display and finished the briefing. ¡°Team, this is a simple mission with a high reward. I know we can accomplish it with little to no difficulty. However, if things happen to go south, we are relying on you as our boots on ground to keep us in the loop.¡±

    Jack closed his eyes while listening to the Captain explain the strategy. There really wasn¡¯t much to her briefing, and that was usually a bad thing for missions. After all, more information meant less risk, right?

    He didn¡¯t want to try something like this with a hangover, but it was happening.

    So be it.

    His HUD pinged with a message from his Platoon Leader.

    ¡°Private, I know you are not sleeping in the middle of this mission briefing.¡±

    ¡°No sir, just a headache.¡± He replied quickly, ¡°Nothing too crazy. The mission seems to be pretty cut and dry, though.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong. Is Turaspeir ready for their first mission?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Are you ready to lead it?¡± Lieutenant Hawkins asked.

    ¡°No, but is anyone? I still don¡¯t understand why we aren¡¯t being led by older, more experienced soldiers.¡± Jack said.

    ¡°Yeah, well, you can thank the Spartans for that. They believed a unit that grew up together would fight harder for each other. You went through Algol together, and not with me. There is no way you could trust me out there, and I don¡¯t blame you.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve served under you for a year.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve served Charlie company for a year. Better yet, all you young soldiers see me as nothing more than a glorified paper pusher. You wouldn¡¯t respect me enough to dodge when I told you to, and that would get you killed. But that¡¯s also why you guys are in charge down there. You can make the calls that we can¡¯t, and you can do it with accuracy.¡±

    ¡°Are there any questions?¡± Captain Griffin said, already walking toward the door, ¡°No? Then gear up and get moving. Fall out.¡±

    ¡°You kids ready to rock?¡± The old, grizzled quartermaster said around a fat wad of chew. Staff Sergeant Smith had been one hell of an infantryman in his day, but he made an even better quartermaster, and today proved that.

    Most young soldiers came to their company believing they would know the right equipment for every mission, and most young soldiers were wrong. On their first shadow mission, almost seven months ago, the older soldier put Alec in his place with a fist to the jaw when the dragoon insisted he didn¡¯t need a certain piece of equipment.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Jack replied hesitantly. ¡°We have a backup comm and beacon just in case I fall.¡±

    ¡°Listen, kid, it¡¯s just a smash and grab. Unless you go in like a bull in a china shop and forget you have a team, you¡¯re not going to get hurt, much less killed.¡± He said, checking over Jack¡¯s armor one more time. ¡°Besides, with Walker and Neilson covering your ass, there¡¯s no way one of those lizards will get close enough to smell a fart.¡±

    ¡°I think what we have here is a case of the good old pre-mission jitters,¡± Lieutenant Hawkins said, clapping Jack on the shoulder, ¡°But you¡¯ve done your job, and I¡¯ve done mine. They have everything this mission could need, plus a few surprises for the road. Unless, Smith, you don¡¯t think the gear is up to the challenge?¡±

    ¡°Shut your hole before I shut it for you, LT. I¡¯ve been to the brig before, and I¡¯m not afraid to spend more time there. What I¡¯m doing-¡ªand you should too¡ªis making sure these young cats think they are ready. They¡¯re not, but I¡¯ll feel better doing this before we put them in a cannon and shoot them at the damned planet.¡±

    ¡°Still playing unit mama?¡± Hawkins asked rhetorically before turning to face the combat squad. ¡°He has this thing where he either wants to treat you like a kid or a mental patient. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s done this to every platoon he¡¯s ever served with.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d mind it too much,¡± Ortiz quipped, ¡°Unless, of course, you want to be the mama we go to with our problems? If so, I really need to know Private Sexy is sleeping with someone other than me?¡±

    ¡°He has a point LT,¡± Smith laughed. ¡°You really want to deal with that again?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ no, I do not.¡± Hawkins said slowly, ¡°Besides, my office would look like crap if we crammed a couch in there. You can keep them. I¡¯ll just be a good little officer and keep doing paperwork.¡±

    ¡°Good choice.¡±

    When first joining the Platoon, the disrespectful banter had confused Jack. But the longer he spent with these two, the more at ease he felt. It didn¡¯t take much to recognize that feeling was exactly why the two men acted that way. Offhandedly, he wondered how long the two had done this, or if they even knew what they were doing.

    ¡°No worries, Sir, I¡¯m sure that a luxurious Officers Cabin is perfectly big enough to double as a therapy office,¡± Jack added, hoping he wasn¡¯t crossing a line.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t afford my rates on a Private¡¯s salary,¡± he shot back.

    ¡°True, but I¡¯m all but certain that both Alexander and Ortiz could find a way to raise the money,¡± Nessa said suggestively.

    ¡°Alright, alright, I give,¡± he said, throwing his hands in the air. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be your mama. That¡¯s Smith¡¯s job. But I will take you all out for drinks when you successfully nab that engine. Deal?¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± Dave and Alec replied in unison.

    ¡°Do you have any idea just how many drinks we can put down?¡± Dave asked, promising Hawkins a future of heavy drinks and empty bank accounts.

    The squad followed the two men out of the armory and into a large room they¡¯d never seen before. In the center were four large pods, open and waiting for their inhabitants. Without stopping, they led the Privates to the end of the line and gestured for them to climb in.

    Inside, there was a wide column with docking clamps that would latch on to a soldier¡¯s armor. The walls were a simple slate gray that promised an incredibly boring ride while they fell at unimaginable speeds.

    ¡°These clamps will hold your feet in place,¡± Smith said, pointing to a pair of groves on the floor, ¡°And the ones behind your shoulders will stabilize you and keep you connected to the craft itself. Stretch now, because once the flight begins, the AI will take over your armor and lock all extremities in place until arrival. Trust me, this is more about your own safety than the armor¡¯s.¡±

    Metal grinding on metal sounded as ten pairs of boots and shoulders were locked into position. ¡°Alexander¡¯s AI will guide the ship as much as possible, considering the many atmospheric issues on the ground¡­ don¡¯t expect much.¡±

    The quartermaster raised an old yellow bottle to his lips and spat out his chew, immediately reaching in his pocket for another. ¡°When you land, you will have thirty seconds to prepare as the locks disengage and the walls fall away. Then, you¡¯re on your own. Everything you do after that is up to you, long as the mission gets done.¡±

    As he stepped out of the pod and sealed the door, a faint whirring sounded as each suit completed its integration and the lights dimmed.

    Seconds later, Jack felt the pod moving and correctly guessed they were being loaded into the drop cannon. He didn¡¯t want to be turned into little more than an artillery shell, but when you were a Private, what else could you do?

    ¡°Guys, I¡¯m willing to admit it. I¡¯m scared.¡± Dave said over the general comms.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I think we all are, buddy. Unfortunately, it turns out that there is a little more to being a soldier than singing to pretty girls and drinking beer,¡± Alec replied. ¡°We all knew that this day would come though¡­¡±

    ¡°We graduated yesterday. You can¡¯t tell me you thought we¡¯d be boots on ground today.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Nessa asked. ¡°It makes sense to test new soldiers as quickly as possible. And if those tests put us in real world, life and death situations, all the better.¡±

    ¡°Damn you for being so logical.¡± Candice joked, ¡°But in all seriousness, we¡¯re just stealing an engine. How hard could it be? Get in, get out, move on. Easy.¡±

    ¡°And if you piss yourself during the fighting, remember that Smith will make you clean that armor with a toothbrush,¡± Ortiz added unhelpfully.

    ¡°Damned right I will,¡± Smith said. ¡°But in all honesty, good luck out there. Remember what Hayward said; get in, get out, move on. And for god¡¯s sake, don¡¯t be a hero. If the situation looks like shit, scrub the mission. AI, you¡¯re good to take over.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sergeant,¡± Warren¡¯s AI said, ¡°AI¡¯s, please restrain your soldiers until we come to a complete stop.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s no fun,¡± Bob whispered in Jack¡¯s ear. ¡°He should¡¯ve made a joke about your fleshy bodies if he really wanted my attention.¡±

    Jack realized his movements were no longer his own. Instead, the armor had pinned his arms to his sides and was not even allowing the smallest amount of movement.

    ¡°Launch in 5¡­ 4¡­ 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 62

    ¡°We¡¯re told the AHF exists to protect us, but have any of you even seen an alien? How do we know the creatures that attacked earth weren¡¯t demons sent to claim what is theirs? If they are, I say we let them keep the godless rock.¡± ¨C From the Pastor Alex Moens show, April 22 3265.

    The pod shook violently as it began its long journey to the distant planet¡¯s surface. Jack tried to brace himself, but the quartermaster hadn¡¯t been exaggerating when he said they wouldn¡¯t be able to move. It took even the freedom to clench his hands as they fell like an artillery round.

    As the atmosphere grew, the walls rattled with increasing intensity. The sound reinforced Dave¡¯s fear and justified it to a certain extent. The knowledge that it was essentially a steel coffin did not pair well with the gloomy lighting of the pod¡¯s interior.

    ¡°Private West,¡± Warren¡¯s AI called cooly, ¡°Significant heat is rising on the outer hull. Please divert thirty Light seconds of power into the pod so I can reduce heat.¡±

    ¡°Sent.¡± Dave replied quickly, obviously not liking this any more than the rest of them. ¡°If you need more, let me know and I¡¯ll give you more.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Privates Neilson and Walker, would you both transfer one Light minute each? Until this is complete, we cannot course correct due to lost aerodynamics.¡±

    ¡°Are we off course?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°I would not request resources if we were not. With our current trajectory, we will miss the rendezvous point by roughly five miles.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not too much of a correction. I would rather they hold on to what Light they have and use it for the fights.¡±

    ¡°Clarification. That was five miles behind enemy lines. Our current impact site will be roughly one mile away from the research facility holding the engine. However, the rest of the company will land outside the complex. Without correction, your squad will need to finish the mission alone. Need I remind you that being deep in enemy territory is dangerous and will probably result in your death?¡±

    ¡°Being that close to the target could look good for us. We could be successful.¡± Nessa said.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Warren added, supporting his friend. ¡°The mission is too important to waste time collecting the rest of the company. They said it needed to be a smash and grab. I¡¯m not sure how much better our chances could be.¡±

    ¡°Squad leader, do you agree with this order? Do you wish to remain on our current trajectory?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Continue with the current flight plan.¡±

    ¡°If it is any consolation,¡± Hawkins said over the comms, ¡°We agree with your assessment. Now, make me look good and bring daddy a new engine.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Target drop zone verified. Turaspeir Squad will make an impact in approximately two minutes. Privates Ortiz and Hayward, please transfer ten Light seconds of power into the shuttle.¡±

    ¡°Why in the hell do you need binding?¡± Ortiz complained, complying with the request.

    ¡°Controlling our landing is a very precise calculation. I will use your Binder energy in conjunction with the Aegis energy Private West has already given to create a parachute.¡±

    ¡°Apparently, your friend Ortiz has a desire to see the inside of the local fauna. If you survive this drop, could you please feed him to whatever creature we find out there?¡± Bob quipped.

    ¡°Enough.¡± Jack whispered, ¡°we need to land safely, but this is the first time any of us have done a drop. I¡¯m sure he just wants to get the ins and outs right.¡±

    ¡°Oh sure, you mean the ins and outs of what, exactly? Waiting in a metal tube? Come on, Jack, it takes no effort on your part to fall out of the sky.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but it takes effort for me not to turn you off.¡±

    The AI fell silent the way it did every time Jack threatened to deactivate it. Before long, they felt the shuttle slow as Warren¡¯s AI deployed the chute and guided them to the landing site. If not for a constant string of updates from the machine, Jack wouldn¡¯t have realized they¡¯d touched down at all.

    ¡°Landing successful. AI¡¯s may release their soldiers. Shuttle will disconnect from armor in ten seconds. Capsule walls will deploy for attack in thirty seconds.¡±

    He felt the armor release his stiff posture, letting him relax for the first time in several minutes. Jack pulled a rifle from its magnetic holster on his back and pulled up his interface. Realizing he needed a constant stream of power, he redirected a single thread of Light into the weapon. It was an old optic trick; channeling a single thread only capable of transmitting power wouldn¡¯t cost anything once fully established.

    Immediate worries taken care of, he reached for his power and looped two threads of Light through the group. The first would cover the visual connection, allowing him to see and warn the team of various situations. The second was for verbal communication and was open on both ends so the squad could talk freely to one another. With just moments to spare, he threw one last thread up to the ship to bond with the command deck.

    When he¡¯d first been learning to use his power, the feeling of displacement brought him to his knees. It had taken nearly two years, but for the first time, he could say that he truly wasn¡¯t thrown by the constant shifting of perspective.

    ¡°Speir squad, sound off when ready,¡± Jack said through the link.

    ¡°West, ready.¡±

    ¡°Walker, ready.¡±

    ¡°Alexander, ready.¡±

    ¡°Morningwood, ready.¡±

    ¡°Hayward, ready.¡±

    ¡°Neilson, ready.¡±

    ¡°Jenkins, ready.¡±

    ¡°Olfson, ready.¡±

    ¡°Ortiz, ready.¡±

    ¡°Heard and understood. Command, this is Monroe, Turaspeir is ready for assault. Please advise.¡±

    A hiss pierced the air as the pod split apart and the natural light of the planet beyond filtered through. Seals broken; every third panel fell away with a clang. This way, if the enemy had been in position to attack, the human soldiers could take cover behind the remaining barriers.

    ¡°Turaspeir, this is Striker. Looks like we went a hair off course. We are roughly thirty clicks from your location. We landed on what appears to be a government building for this small town. If it is ok with Command, we want to make some noise and cause a distraction.¡±

    While the leader of Striker squad spoke, Jack took the time to reroute a line of Light and view their situation. Apparently, they¡¯d done this before¡­ many times, in fact. Their entire squad was already out of the pod and in an attack formation, ready to march. If he had to guess, it would only be a matter of minutes before the squad could provide a distraction.

    ¡°Nebula here. We¡¯ve landed at our intended target. We are in position to attack the south-eastern gate and are ready for deployment.¡±

    Doing the same thing he¡¯d done a moment ago, Jack verified Nebula¡¯s position and marveled at how quickly these veteran soldiers could get into place. Not a single one was out of step, and he had absolutely no doubt that they could truly rock the field.

    ¡°Understood. I¡¯m going to share a current Light Map.¡± Jack said, ¡°Blackrock, did you land safely?¡±

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°We¡¯re good, Speir. We¡¯re near what looks like a dam. If I¡¯m right, not only can we take out a huge chunk of their power grid, but blowing this thing will flood the city to the south. It¡¯s unguarded.¡± The leader of Blackrock reported.

    ¡°Roger that, Turaspeir moving out,¡± he replied, motioning for the squad to move.

    The rookie soldiers moved with an undeserved confidence only new soldiers can pull off. With Dave in front for protection and Cecile in the rear for long-range support, they looked like nothing could bother them.

    Jack didn¡¯t need to be looking through their eyes to see how every sound in the forest spooked the squad. At one point, bullets ripped apart a branch when Alec whirled and let loose on an unknown noise in the woods. More than once, Ortiz would strike out with his ropes of Light to capture an unsuspecting animal just trying to live peacefully.

    Perhaps it was a good thing they were far from friendly soldiers.

    Unfortunately, the biggest danger when traveling through a jungle wasn¡¯t the possibility that something was watching you. It¡¯s that you know something is watching, and you can¡¯t do anything about it.

    A javelin flew out of the forest confirmed their feelings of dread. The projectile sparked wildly as it grazed Candice¡¯s pauldron and slammed into a nearby tree. She glanced down at her shoulder and cursed at the scorch marks on her armor.

    A cry sounded from the undergrowth as ten short creatures charged out of the trees. True to the briefing, they looked like mutated geckos standing on their hind legs. Instead of skittering around on all fours, they carried primitive weapons in their long, three-fingered hands. For a race of highly advanced engineers, their battle practices were seriously lacking.

    Clothed only in loincloths and undersized breastplates barely protecting their hearts, the small lizards charged with weapons raised.

    Before the attackers could get too close, a blue field of interlocking hexagonal plates materialized around the squad.

    ¡°What kind of backward pageantry is this?¡± Alec shouted, spinning up his weapons.

    ¡°The local population,¡± Jack replied coolly. ¡°Don¡¯t waste ammo. We all have short-range capabilities that won¡¯t spend rounds. Use those.¡±

    ¡°These assholes are going down. Do you know how much crap Smith is going to give me for scorch marks?¡± Candice complained, raising her arm and sending out four strands of the yellow two-hundred-micron fibers that were the mark of her corps.

    Before Jack could draw his knife, Candice had four creatures captured and was actively squeezing the life out of them. Apparently, she was more than a little upset about needing to spend an evening repainting her armor.

    Nessa flicked her wrists and a pair of rods dropped out of her bracers, settling nicely in her hands. Moving with the grace and confidence of an experienced swordsman, she dashed through a small gap in the shield Dave opened for this exact purpose.

    She attacked with no mercy, reaching the first unbound creature as sabers formed in her hands. A wide arcing strike that was little more than waist level on her was the perfect height to alleviate an Oteric of its head.

    As the gecko-like creature fell, she moved on to her next target, leaping over lines of binding Light as she danced across the battlefield.

    Jack cast out his senses and found another squad of enemy troops closing in on their location. Trusting his power and relying on his training, he triangulated the leader¡¯s location through a combination of viewpoints. All it took was a single shot of densely compressed Light and the alien dropped to the ground.

    ¡°Be careful, they have backup in the trees. Ranged fighters, feel free to shoot but try to conserve Light.¡± Jack said over the comm, changing his previous order and ensuring everyone was aware of the pending danger.

    ¡°Give me about ten more seconds,¡± Warren said, weapon lowered and clearly deep inside the nearby machines. ¡°I¡¯ve almost broken their encryption. Once I¡¯m in, I¡¯m going to disable the power matrix in their weapons.¡±

    ¡°Why not just rip out their teeth while you declaw them?¡± Nessa quipped, cutting down another enemy with an overhead strike.

    ¡°Says the woman that¡¯s butchering them without breaking a sweat?¡± Jack asked, pulling the trigger to drop another creature.

    ¡°Done,¡± Warren said simply.

    Not wasting a moment, Thea dashed out of the protective field and immediately dropped to the ground, avoiding a set of thrown bolas. Unlike her Breaker friend, she didn¡¯t need a physical weapon to be deadly in combat. All it took was a single brush against their skin to impart lethal damage to her targets. To an outside observer, the method appeared gentle, almost kind.

    It was anything but.

    Dashing through the fight with speed to match the name of her corps, the young Phantom executed the eight creatures held by the binders. Flashes of green Light were the only sign she¡¯d been there¡­ that, and the bubbling river of blood pouring from silent mouths after she severed random arteries.

    Getting close to the enemy reinforcements, Thea dropped to the ground for a second time to avoid a thrown spear that would have slammed into her chest. She exploded forward like a compressed spring, redirecting her path and grabbing her target¡¯s ankle. The doomed creature had just enough time to look down before a flash of green left it little more than a pile of twitching flesh.

    ¡°Morningwood, Neilson, focus on the targets in the trees. The others can handle the rest.¡± Jack commanded as he dropped the leader of a third wave of creatures.

    ¡°Heard,¡± the two soldiers replied in unison as they changed targets.

    Diego Ortiz was not like Candice at all. She could control four lines of Light with extreme delicacy, while he¡¯d never been able to handle over two.

    What he lacked in volume and control, he made up for in his ability to multitask. While she was incredibly skilled, she had absolutely no talent for wielding her power and a rifle at the same time.

    For him, it was like an extension of the self, indistinguishable from his actual body while controlling it.

    A tendril of fiber optic cable wrapped in a micron-thin layer of titanium glowed with the Yellow Light of the Binder Corps, wrapping itself around the ankle of one of the few remaining creatures. Like a fish on a line, the young man pulled in his prize.

    A pair of rounds to the head silenced the struggling creature forever.

    Stories talk about battles that lasted hours, sometimes days, but that is simply not true. When the dust settled and the last of the attackers were dead, a quick look at the clock in the corner of Jack¡¯s vision showed that only five minutes had passed.

    It wasn¡¯t the first time Jack had experienced this phenomenon. But no matter how many times it happened, it always surprised him.

    Five minutes.

    A paltry number in the grand scheme of things, but a lifetime on the field.

    Five minutes.

    For the first time as an autonomous unit, Turaspeir had taken lives in battle with no backup. And it had only taken five minutes.

    ¡°Is everyone ok?¡± Jack asked, refreshing his Light Map. With the enemy¡¯s willingness to use guerrilla tactics, he needed to keep the map updated while also remaining aware of any new viewpoints entering the area.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Dave said, dropping his barrier, ¡°Something tells me that a bunch of primitives with pointy sticks really didn¡¯t stand much of a chance.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised. While I was shutting down their tech, I found out that every piece of weaponry contains a pressure-released neurotoxin that matches nothing in our databanks,¡± Warren explained, picking up a spear and attaching it to his Mag-holster. ¡°I think we should only underestimate them if we want to die.¡±

    ¡°Must have been their roving security.¡± Jack said, pointing deep into the trees, ¡°The Light Map shows an extensive structure about two hundred meters that way.¡±

    Not wanting to deal with more lizards, the squad set off at a run. In a matter of moments, the trees thinned and gave way to a large open field with a walled structure at its center.

    How the brass considered these creatures advanced, Jack truly didn¡¯t know.

    The facility looked like a stone age architect had found modern-age materials and built a fortress. They made the walls from baked mud, but cameras and heavy steel doors were visible around the entire building. There was no rhyme or reason to its layout. They clearly slapped the facility together with no plan.

    ¡°Anyone else feel like we¡¯re being set up?¡± Dave asked.

    ¡°Totally,¡± Alec replied from his hiding place beside Dave, ¡°If this is a research center, they need to research how to build a damned building. It looks like a mud hut, but they ran out of mud. Who was it that said these people were advanced?¡±

    ¡°Your intel did, smartass,¡± Hawkins said over the comm, scaring Alec more than he would admit. ¡°They build like ants. This part is just for show. The primary facility is underground.¡±

    ¡°Right. So, we¡¯re supposed to go underground in a facility that looks so primitive there is no reason any sane person would ever step foot inside?¡±

    ¡°Did I stutter?¡±

    ¡°No, sir.¡± Alec moaned.

    ¡°I see two more guards. Neilson, I¡¯m going to send you the location of the first, then I¡¯m going to make my way around to the second.¡± Jack said, transmitting a copy of the most recent Light Map to the sharpshooter¡¯s HUD, ¡°Do not pull the trigger until I say.¡±

    Jack approached a daydreaming guard while watching from every available angle. Apparently, the previous skirmish hadn¡¯t been as loud as they¡¯d feared. Either that, or the creature had fallen into the timeless monotony of guard duty.

    Drawing his knife and sparking it into existence, he silently set a ten-second countdown for both Cecile and himself. When the timer struck zero, so did he. Leaping forward¡ªstill out of view from any camera¡ªhe wrapped an arm around the creature¡¯s throat and plunged the knife through its back.

    There was no shout of alarm, no screams of pain. Just the muffled thump of a body hitting the floor as it bled out onto the dirt below.

    ¡°Target eliminated. Warren, can you loop the last ten seconds of surveillance for the next ten minutes?¡± Jack asked, highlighting the door that would be their entrance.

    ¡°Ditto on target elimination.¡± Cecile replied.

    ¡°Done.¡± Warren said after a brief silence, ¡°I didn¡¯t drop out of their systems after disabling the weapons.¡±

    While he waited for the rest of the squad to close in on his position, Jack cast his senses into the building. Just because the enemy hadn¡¯t proven to be much of a threat so far, did not mean things couldn¡¯t change in the blink of an eye.

    What he found made him happy, but did not surprise him in the least.

    Not a single Oteric was battle-ready. In fact, most appeared to be off duty, lounging in break rooms or bunks without a single piece of armor.

    These soldiers were the shining example of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    ¡°Command, this is Turaspeir requesting permission to breach.¡± Jack sent once everyone was in place and ready to attack.

    ¡°Granted. Inform once you have secured the target. Command out.¡±

    With the OK given, Jack nodded to Alec, who delivered an armor-enhanced kick to the metal portal. What remained of the door¡ªand the frame it once sat in¡ªwas so far beyond repair, Jack almost felt bad for his targets.

    Almost.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 63

    ¡°Mr. Sampson, if elected to the position of High Minister, how will your foreign policy differ from the previous administration? Will we still declare war on all other intelligent species?¡± ¨C From the first debate, May 2, 3265

    ¡°We¡¯ve located the package,¡± Jack sent to command after they found the research lab on the fourth sublevel. ¡°Unfortunately, it isn¡¯t exactly in one cohesive piece, and we¡¯re still very hot.¡±

    It had taken them nearly two hours of constant searching to locate the laboratory. And, as it turned out, armored soldiers stomping through alien halls were not silent. Sadly, it forced them to kill every alien they encountered.

    The practice turned Jack¡¯s stomach.

    ¡°Reassemble it as fast as you can, but be ready to throw parts through a Gate if need be,¡± Hawkins answered tersely.

    Not wanting to deal with an active firefight any longer than they absolutely had to, Alec got to work putting the machine back together. As he did, Warren directed his attention to the computer in the corner of the room and located a schematic in a few brief minutes. It wasn¡¯t perfect, nor was it in English, but it was something.

    To the best of their ability, the two men determined that most parts were intact. It only appeared to be a total disaster because of the casing strewn about the floor. They were lucky. If the Oteric had disassembled it much more, they would¡¯ve needed to take the Lieutenant up on his offer to toss parts through the Gate and hope they could reassemble it later.

    For their part, Jack and Thea knew their place was not on the front lines of this fight. Especially considering the amount of data that needed to be transferred from these computers before they tried to escape. Unfortunately, when they got to the alien terminal, all they could do was stand there like lost puppies in search of their owner.

    ¡°Jenkins, we are at the terminal. What now?¡± Jack asked the squad¡¯s secondary Possessor.

    ¡°Just put your hands on the thing that looks like a keyboard and don¡¯t fight me.¡± He said, casting his mind into the terminal and commanding it to transfer all data to the suits of armor. ¡°I can¡¯t pull the long-range crap that Warren can. You two need to stand there and let the system do as it must. I need to help in the hallway.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°At least five minutes without interruption or the data might get corrupted.¡±

    ¡°Ya¡¯ll need to hurry on up in there,¡± Dave said, standing in the hallway like a knight bracing a shield, occasional pulses of Light expanding out in waves to bolster the existing barrier, ¡°I can¡¯t hold this shit all day you know.¡±

    The Aegis was impressive to watch, but what he said was true. Every time he sent out another wave of Light, the hallway would dim slightly from the power consumption.

    ¡°Yes, because holding a barrier against enemies that have yet to test it in the first place must be so tiring.¡± Nessa quipped as she ripped through another pair of charging Oteric.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky,¡± Jack warned, casting his senses out to watch another group of aliens come for them. ¡°Eight more incoming.¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Diego responded.

    As the enemies turned the corner, he met them with a pair of yellow threads that grabbed the first two and tightened. The pitiful creatures struggled to break free, but the strength of the Light infused wire was just too much.

    They would¡¯ve eventually died of strangulation if the Binder gave them that much time. Instead, he tightened the strands until the thin metal wire cut through flesh and bone, leaving them a headless warning to every other creature that stepped into that hallway.

    ¡°At this rate, the whole complex will be empty by the time you guys are ready to get out of here,¡± Diego laughed, the high of battle not letting him process the horrific scene.

    ¡°That may be true, but there is still a chance they have some sort of special forces on the way,¡± Thea reminded, trying to keep the squad at least semi-serious.

    ¡°Hate to add fuel to the fire, but there is another wave of ten inbound,¡± Jack informed, irritated that he couldn¡¯t do more, while understanding the necessity of remaining where he was.

    Just like before, a group of Oteric tried to charge down the hallway. Unfortunately for them, their primitive weaponry didn¡¯t stand a chance when faced with Jenkins¡¯ Crawler drone.

    The spider-like drone was just as ruthless as the other tactics used against the lizards, with the added bonus of lacking the very human emotion of empathy. After receiving its commands, it truly didn¡¯t care if the enemy was trying to run, it would kill them just the same.

    All but one.

    When it tried to spear the last soldier in the pack, the final Oteric caught the leg and ripped it off with ease before smashing the drone to pieces against the wall.

    ¡°Umm, Jack?¡± Dave asked, an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice. ¡°You sure you counted that wave right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. A pack of ten, just like the others.¡±

    ¡°Then why am I lookin¡¯ at this huge bastard that looks like he¡¯s been dipped in oil?¡±

    At the end of the hall, a massive alien walked toward them. True to Dave¡¯s description, its skin and armor were black as the space between the stars. There was absolutely no haste to its movement, almost like it knew it had already won the battle.

    It just needed to close the distance, seemingly unbothered by the massacre, to do so.

    ¡°I got this one,¡± Candice said, whipping her four threads down the hall to bind the new enemy.

    Instead of being ensnared, all four threads lost their Light the moment they touched its skin. Without the infusion of power, it easily ripped them apart without a second thought. The more she tried to reanimate them and bind it, the more it simply destroyed her attacks.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    An unearthly sound bubbled softly from its toothy grin as it continued to approach.

    Seeing her struggle and knowing they needed to stop this creature, Diego joined his partner. Despite their best efforts, it drained every string of power that made contact.

    ¡°Jack?!¡± Dave shouted, constructing a series of barriers in hopes that his power could stop the creature.

    Alarmed by the tone in the normally unflappable man¡¯s voice, Jack switched to Dave¡¯s viewpoint to see what was happening. To both men¡¯s horror, the first barrier only lasted long enough for the creature to look at it in amusement. Instead of being blocked by the shield, it simply walked through as though there was nothing there at all.

    In her terror, Nessa lay into the creature with everything she had. Round after round from her pistol struck the target, but failed to slow it. Desperate, the Breaker pulled a series of short tubes from a compartment in her armor, formed them into daggers, and threw them with unerring accuracy.

    A bright flash of crimson signified Cecile¡¯s contribution to the fight, but it ignored both attacks as if they were nothing more than a breeze.

    ¡°You got to know how uncomfortable that makes me,¡± Dave said, pushing the barrel of Cecile¡¯s rifle off his shoulder.

    As residual Light from the attack faded, the Aegis was shocked when he saw that the pitch-black Oteric was still coming.

    In a bid of desperation, Diego rushed through the barrier in a final attempt to bind the thing. This time, the cables didn¡¯t immediately become inert on contact, darker, but not inert. The two threads of metal-wrapped fiber optics wound their way around the creature, pinning an arm to its side and offering the first taste of victory they¡¯d seen.

    But the cables didn¡¯t stop darkening.

    After just a few heartbeats, they¡¯d lost all color and continued to darken, not stopping until they were the same deep black as the creature itself.

    Diego tried to sever the lines with his combat knife, but the weapon simply passed through them as though they didn¡¯t exist. Panicking, he ordered the armor to disconnect the bracers, but by then, the blackness had spread all the way to his shoulders.

    That same unearthly laugh burst from the creature¡¯s throat as its bound arm lost cohesion, and turned into a mass of writhing tentacles. With its other arm, it grabbed the dark stands and held them in an unbreakable grasp.

    Yanking hard, the massive Oteric pulled the Binder toward it in a horrific reversal of the earlier fight.

    Dave constructed barrier after barrier as he tried to save his friend. But no matter how many he made, each shattered into nothingness as blackened armor came in contact with the blue shields. As Ortiz drew closer, the creature¡¯s body changed.

    The relatively harmless appearance of the Oteric melted away as it grew in size, unnatural tentacles stretching and reorienting until they made a completely new form. No longer small or diminutive, the eldritch creature towered in the cramped hallway. The reptilian face was gone. All that remained was a featureless mask.

    Featureless, except for the twin rows of wicked-looking teeth.

    ¡°Jenkins, how much longer?¡± Jack yelled, refusing to move despite the dire situation unfolding just outside the door.

    ¡°Too long. Leave Olfson there and save Ortiz!¡±

    Hesitantly separating himself from the computer, Jack sprinted into the corridor to witness the creature with his own eyes. By all logic, it should have died several times over by now.

    But it was still standing.

    Diving into the Light spectrum, he tried to see if he could understand why the squad¡¯s attacks weren¡¯t touching the creature. But everything was normal. The surrounding Light touched every surface, just as it always did. Frequencies that were supposed to reflect were reflected, and ones that were supposed to be absorbed were absorbed.

    Except for one place.

    Jack stared at the creature in stunned disbelief. The blanket of Light was there, encircling it like it did all things. But instead of being reflected away, all Light that came into contact with this creature was stuck, unable to escape.

    It was as if the creature stood in the epicenter of a black hole and simply had too much mass for Light to escape.

    By now, the creature had Diego by the throat and was lifting the human soldier off the ground with ease. He fought for all he was worth, firing round after round into the beast with his pistol.

    But it had no effect.

    The shots only stopped because the alien¡¯s head stretched forward like putty and wrapped its mouth around Ortiz¡¯s weapon hand. The scream was so clear over the comm, Jack was all but certain it would haunt his dreams until the day he died.

    The Binder acted on pure adrenaline, ripping a bloody stump out of the creature¡¯s mouth to hammer on it with the only thing he knew could touch it¡­ his own body.

    Enraged by the pitiful human, the creature let loose a scream like fifty children playing instruments for the first time. Its free arm unwound, breaking into hundreds of tentacles and wrapping around the soldier¡¯s helmet.

    ¡°Diego!¡± Nessa screamed, firing blindly at the alien, screaming as she begged for the Binders¡¯ life. ¡°We aren¡¯t done talking, you bastard! Don¡¯t you dare die!¡±

    They could only watch in horror as the appendages flexed, slowly increasing their squeezing pressure.

    ¡°Looks like you were right,¡± He said with a mirthless chuckle, ¡°It turns out that Binders really are useless without Breakers.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, Diego, fight back! Jack, do something!¡±

    A crack filled their ears as the comm picked up the faceplate shattering under pressure. A stoic grunt of pain came across the radio as the man tried to hold back a scream.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying, but I don¡¯t know what to do,¡± Jack said, horrified.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Ness, I¡¯m sorry Spier.¡± Diego said, the pain in his voice more than a little clear, ¡°Thank you¡­ for being my¡­ only real family.¡±

    As the last of his words tumbled from his pained lips, a crunch ripped through the comm as the helmet gave way and crumpled in on itself.

    In that first heartbeat, they thought they could lie to themselves, that their friend had somehow survived.

    But the truth was evident as thick, dark blood dripped from between the tentacles and down the creases of his armor.

    Diego Ortiz was dead.

    Jack screamed, reacting out of a mixture of rage and fear. He forced himself to follow the lines of Light that sunk into the creature¡¯s flesh and into the cluster of nerves that passed for its brain. He had to complete the circuit. Knowing this, he pulled on the nearest thread and tried to bring it back to himself.

    But the thread wouldn¡¯t come, no matter how hard he pulled.

    This is the secret. His instincts screamed, and Jack knew they were right.

    He pulled on that single thread, dropping all other connections in a desperate bid to force it back into himself. It took everything he had, a herculean effort that he¡¯d never even considered possible or necessary.

    But slowly, the thread came.

    Like an arrow loosed from the string, it slammed into Jack and he could suddenly see thousands upon thousands of viewpoints.

    He only needed one.

    When he heard the faceplate crack, Warren knew he needed to be in the hallway. While Jenkins was perfectly capable of handling the next part, he wasn¡¯t sure that his counterpart could compartmentalize well enough to get this done.

    Warren dropped the equipment he¡¯d been working on, sprinting through the door and into a war zone. Bodies lay strewn about the floor like dolls in a macabre playroom. Near the end of the hall, he saw the crumpled, headless form of his friend.

    Not wasting a second, he reached out to Diego¡¯s AI and forced the machine to copy all its data to Warren¡¯s armor. He wouldn¡¯t have much space remaining for the equipment manuals, but this was much more important.

    Only Possessors truly understood why the AHF made the Vis-HUD such a vital part of the uniform. Yes, it was a convenient way to relay orders and establish communication when an optic was not present, but that was only half of the answer.

    Soldiers spent the majority of their time wearing a computer that could interface with their minds. Most people thought they only used hand gestures and voice commands. But in reality, they mapped the brain and could read users¡¯ thoughts after just thirty days of continuous use.

    Every memory, every skill, and every desire was recorded and transmitted to the nearest server core.

    Essentially, it recorded the soldier perfectly and stored the mind in a place where it couldn¡¯t be lost¡­ that is, as long as the soldier died on the ship.

    But Diego hadn¡¯t died on the ship and his most recent upload wouldn¡¯t have been saved in the system. There was a temporary backup stored on his HUD, but it would rapidly lose power the longer the host was dead.

    He couldn¡¯t save his friend¡¯s body, but he could at least save his mind.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 64

    ¡°What happens when we die? Do we simply stop existing, or is our soul taken to another realm? Does the mind trapped in a Steel Cast body keep its soul? Mr. Antony, before you lecture me on interplanetary politics, perhaps you should question what we do to the soldiers who fall in service to our republic.¡± ¨C From the first debate, May 2 3265

    There was something different about this thread. It was almost like tapping into an existing network rather than creating one of his own. Even that was a poor explanation of the sensation. It was like he was becoming a single point in a spider¡¯s web that spanned the universe.

    The foreign network was actively rebelling against his Light. The only thing he knew was that his presence was hurting these creatures on a physical level. It refused to be part of him, tearing at his mind with claws that ripped into his psyche in their quest to be free of Jack¡¯s power.

    Adding to his pain, but knowing that it was necessary, Jack gritted his teeth and reformed the audible link between the members of his squad.

    ¡°Neilson, kill the bastard!¡± He cried, fury the only emotion clear in his voice.

    The team knew there was no time to waste and understood the need to use the window of opportunity to its fullest.

    Cecile fired a shot she¡¯d been concentrating power into since her last one failed. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was enough. When the fifty-caliber round struck the creature between the eyes, it didn¡¯t laugh off the blow as it had before.

    It felt something.

    The next volley of attacks came from Alec before anyone could tell how much damage Cecile did to the target.

    Rounds previously absorbed into the body with nothing to show for their efforts were now ripping into the target and leaving massive, undeniable wounds. The attacks turned the alien into a pincushion, albeit one for incredibly large needles.

    Leaving nothing to chance, Nessa lept in with her blades drawn. In one swift movement that left the others speechless, she¡¯d decapitated the creature and kicked its head as far down the hall as she could.

    ¡°Thea! Hurry!¡± Jack yelled, ¡°Diego¡¯s hurt!¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± she said, deftly dodging the others while the emerald Light of her corps danced across her fingertips.

    But it was obvious to anyone that Ortiz was already dead, and any attempt to heal him was a waste of time.

    Simply touching the body confirmed those fears. Every bone in his skull and neck was shattered, and the tissue was well beyond repair.

    Private Diego Ortiz of Charlie Company, 416<sup>th</sup> Battalion, was dead, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that.

    ¡°Save him,¡± her boyfriend pleaded. Desperation clear in his tone.

    ¡°Jack¡­¡± Thea said softly, standing up from the mangled corpse.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to hear that you can¡¯t. I need to know that you can.¡±

    ¡°Bud, there ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ we can do for him now,¡± Dave said, putting his hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder, ¡°But we can move forward with the mission.¡±

    ¡°How can you just ignore this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± the cowboy said, slowly drawing Light back into his shield in case their enemies returned, ¡°But there¡¯s a job that needs doing, and we are the only ones here to do it.¡±

    Jack breathed deep and tried to recenter himself, bringing his mind back to the here and now. ¡°Fine. We need to be ready for whatever comes around that corner. If another of these things shows up, let me know and we can try doing this with no casualties. Warren, is the engine ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but even pinging our location, the ship is having trouble locking on.¡±

    ¡°Could you do it?¡±

    ¡°I think so. But I would need to be up there.¡±

    Wordlessly, Jack brought his vision into the Light spectrum once more. Sure, he still had a headache from the fight, but this needed to be done. In the distance, he found a massive tangle of lines looped in ways that Light would never do on its own. Clearly identifying the ship, he pushed a single thread toward the spot with the most frequencies. Eventually, he found the computer system and locked on.

    After creating the bond, Jack touched Warren¡¯s vision and finished the circuit.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°You¡¯re connected to the Gate room. I think I found the control module, but I could be wrong. If I am, let me know and I¡¯ll move it.¡± Jack said, voice devoid of emotion in a terrifying way. Not only was he emotionally numb from the loss of a friend, but this use of his power was something never even hinted at during his time on Algol.

    It was a strange feeling. Like two radios trying to talk to each other, but on slightly different frequencies. But instead of radios, it was a living mind. While he was comfortable moving his own perception, the idea of bringing along another was disconcerting.

    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Warren mumbled, creating a path to the mind server and transferring Diego¡¯s consciousness before anything else. ¡°Looks like they were close, but still about three hundred meters off target. If you give me a few minutes, I can trace a line back to us and get this thing open.¡±

    ¡°Squad, you¡¯re going to need to handle things the old-fashioned way for a bit. I¡¯m still not one hundred percent back to fighting shape after that¡­ thing.¡± Jack said, unhappy to admit weakness.

    ¡°So, we get to play in the street with a blindfold on?¡± Nessa asked with a surprising amount of cheer.

    As if taking her words as a challenge, a group of Oteric entered the hallway and screamed a now-familiar battle cry. Their fury grew as they passed the piles of dead bodies on the ground, but didn¡¯t seem to care about the strange pile of tentacles in the middle.

    ¡°Come on, you bastards.¡± Nessa growled, ¡°Your little squid friend killed one of ours! Now it¡¯s time we paid it back in kind.¡±

    Heedless of the danger, she drew her weapons and charged into the group. With no gap between her and the enemy, she dropped and struck a horizontal blow that left the first creature devoid of legs. Turning with the strike, she raised her pistol and unloaded a trio of incendiary rounds into its chest.

    As reinforcements came, the other fighting members of Turaspeir joined Nessa in avenging the death of their friend. This was no longer a fight; it was a slaughter.

    Flashes of orange filled the hallways as Alec gave up on rebuilding the engine and joined his squad on the field. Somehow, the attacks didn¡¯t just give off the color of their corps, but seemed to channel their collective rage at losing a friend. In this battle, the emotions of their wielders were on full display as more and more aliens died at their hands.

    Spinning to block an overhead attack, Nessa was surprised to see that the creature was no longer a threat. It was still there, but the fist-sized hole in its chest from Cecile¡¯s weapon made it hard to continue doing simple things like breathing.

    The entrance to their portion of the tunnel was so crowded with enemies that it was no longer possible to fight without risking friendly fire. So Alec did the logical thing and fired a corrosive round. With a single fourteen-millimeter shell, he¡¯d not only melted many enemies, but he¡¯d cleared most of the hallway as well.

    Warren didn¡¯t care that he was upsetting the Possessor in charge of maintaining the gate. He didn¡¯t even care about the disciplinary action that was sure to be in his near future, either. No, all he cared about when he forcefully ejected the Gate Operator from the system was creating a connection and getting Ortiz¡¯s body back to the ship.

    At that point, the engine was a whole lot farther down on his list of priorities.

    ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing, Private? You haven''t been properly trained on this,¡± said the operator, as his avatar re-materialized inside the machine. ¡°You¡¯re going to screw it all up and get the entire company stranded on world.¡±

    ¡°Just like you¡¯re doing now with your shitty attempts at locking on to our signal?¡± he shot back, knowing that he had the right of the situation.

    ¡°Hey¡­ I was close to finding you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and how much longer would you have taken? This way, my team gets back on the ship and you get to look like the hero. The only people that will know the truth is Turaspeir¡­ unless you turn this into something bigger.¡±

    Properly quelled, Warren returned his focus to the task at hand. He¡¯d been able to locate his body, but the depth of the complex was throwing off his calculations. If he was right, he would open a Gate directly into the laboratory with no issues. If he was wrong¡­ well, better not to think about such things.

    Pulling his consciousness back along the pathway Jack created, he was relieved when the far wall of the room warped like the air above an intense fire. A heartbeat later, the warping ceased, and a circle roughly four meters wide was ripped into the fabric of reality and seemed to crack like shattered glass.

    ¡°Thea, help me get him through,¡± Warren shouted over the comm, the mangled body of Ortiz hanging from his shoulders.

    The Phantom replied quickly and quietly, not wasting a second as she grabbed an arm and helped the Possessor carry their squad mate to the ship.

    When they materialized back in company headquarters, the two soldiers placed the body on a stretcher that was permanently staged at the gates for situations just like these. Having accomplished their primary goal, the two soldiers stepped back through the Gate and into the fight.

    ¡°I still need help. This thing is way too heavy for me to move alone,¡± Warren said, grabbing Thea¡¯s hand and steering her toward the massive engine. ¡°I tried to push it, but even with wheels, it is just too much.¡±

    ¡°We got this. Jack, is there anyone over there that can help us out?¡±

    ¡°Not really? I don¡¯t know. How long do you need them?¡± The leader replied, gunshots peppering his transmission.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about time, Jack. I got a good charge on this Shield Generator,¡± Dave said, uncoupling a shield projector from his arm and slamming it into an open port on Alec¡¯s armor, ¡°Long as numb-nuts here doesn¡¯t break it, it should hold for about thirty minutes.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­¡± Jack said, impressed. ¡°Thea, you¡¯ve got Dave for thirty minutes and counting. We need to get this thing done and get out of here.¡±

    Dave nodded and stepped into the lab, throwing his weight against the machine with a grunt. His large armor did more than just protect the wearer. It increased his strength to a level that was impossible for a normal soldier, much less a human.

    While they fought, they made progress. Warren sent a crawler drone to make yet another copy of the alien computers. If he¡¯d learned anything from a lifetime of fighting with machines, it was to have backups of his backup.

    ¡°Package secure, pull back,¡± Warren said after both the engine and crawler were through the gate, ¡°Let¡¯s get home so we can call this mission a success.¡±

    ¡°Understood, incendiary grenade out,¡± Jack shouted, lobbing a disk glowing with violet Light down the hall.

    When the weapon inevitably exploded, the squad used the distraction to retreat into the lab and seal the doorway with one of Dave¡¯s barriers. The illusion of safety provided more comfort than it was truly worth.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 65

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be demonizing these brave men and women. That we question their existence is just further proof they¡¯ve done their job well. Pretending like they aren¡¯t worth our time is just ignoring the life they sacrifice for you. You may hate the military, and that¡¯s your right, but they are a necessity.¡± ¨C rebuttal from the first debate ¨C May 2, 2365

    ¡°What in the hell is going on down there?¡± Lieutenant Hawkins asked as he stared through the gate at the worn-out squad.

    ¡°No time to explain sir,¡± Jack replied, staring back, ¡°We need to get everyone off-world ASAP.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s going to be a problem. You are the only group the Gate technician has locked on to. The others are still mostly dark.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because it wasn¡¯t the Gate Tech that pulled it off,¡± Jack said, giving Warren the side-eye. ¡°I carried Warren up to the ship and he found his own body.¡±

    ¡°Really now¡­¡± The Officer replied, more than a little suspicion in his tone, ¡°Either way, you¡¯re the only ones able to create a stable connection. We can keep looking for the others, but it will take time. Care to tell me why we need to rush the rest up here?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s not safe, sir,¡± Jack started before being interrupted.

    ¡°If they run into one of those¡­ things, they won¡¯t be able to deal with it.¡± Thea stated plainly.

    ¡°What things?¡± Hawkins asked, annoyed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go into detail during the after-action.¡± Jack cut back in, ¡°For now, let¡¯s just say the body in the gate room is the result of about ten seconds of engagement with one of these things.¡±

    ¡°And you can fight them?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s tough. I think only an optic can pull it off.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need more details later, soldier, but for now¡­ gather all four squads and bring them home.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Jack nodded to Warren, who took the cue and released the Gate.

    They watched the shattered world of the ship slowly dissipate and eventually return to the plain stone wall of the laboratory.

    ¡°Squad leaders, this is Turaspeir. Do you copy?¡± Jack sent to the company after re-establishing comms the network.

    A series of affirmative grunts came in response.

    ¡°Good, we have a problem. The Possessors up top cannot get a solid lock on any of us. Luckily, Private Alexander showed them up and delivered the payload.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± one sergeant asked, ¡°You gonna share your Possessor or something?¡±

    ¡°In a way. We need all four squads to meet up here,¡± He said, sending a copy of the most recent Light Map with a marker just outside of the complex, ¡°Once we are all there, Alexander can pull off his magic again and get us home.¡±

    ¡°I like that spot,¡± Sergeant First Class Rose of Nebula squad replied. ¡°Me and my guys are already there and trying to get through the gates. We can keep holding them back, but it¡¯s like they sent an entire army after us.¡±

    ¡°Blackrock has one more charge to place, then we can move out.¡± Sergeant First Class Scott said, ¡°I want to blast them back to the stone age.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a negative Scott,¡± Jack replied. ¡°If I¡¯m risking my guys to save your ass, you better be there when we¡¯re ready.¡±

    ¡°Hahaha, you hear that puto?¡± Sanchez laughed, ¡°Your orders are so bad, privates are pushing you around!¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± she replied testily, ¡°Once this is over, you are I and having a long talk, Monroe.¡±

    In response, Jack silenced the radio. He wasn¡¯t afraid of her or any potential trouble she would cause. The truth was that most commanders would laugh her out of the room. He understood her desire to destroy the power grid, but it simply was no longer a necessary part of the mission. Now that the engine was in human hands, escape was the primary objective.

    Jack closed his tired, aching eyes and took a deep breath. He reached up and pulled his rifle from the mag-sling on his back before motioning for the squad to line up on the door. They¡¯d all heard the conversation with Hawkins and knew the stakes.

    It may not have been their first choice, but one look into their eyes showed Jack that everyone was determined to fight for the lives of their fellow soldiers.

    ¡°Bob, find the local motor pool and line it up.¡±

    ¡°Now you want to talk? This must be important.¡±

    ¡°Cut the crap. We have work to do.¡±

    ¡°There is a motor pool close to here. According to your map, there are five machines, one of which is capable of transporting ten people.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re nine now.¡±

    ¡°And Jesus wore flip-flops. What¡¯s your point?¡±

    ¡°Asshole,¡± he muttered before switching to squad comms, ¡°On-screen you should see a ribbon leading to the motor pool. If their machines are anything like ours, we should be able to get one working and to our meeting point rather quickly. 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­ Go!¡±

    Nessa started the offensive by throwing an overcharged concussion grenade through Dave¡¯s shield and into the crowded hallway beyond. Enemy chittering was quickly drowned out by a shockwave that cleared the corridor and cause several feet of the ceiling to collapse.

    The frontline soldiers charged into the now cleared passage, weapons drawn, and faceplates sealed.

    At the end of the hall, several stunned Oteric stared at the humans with an emotion that needed no translating.

    Fear was universal, after all.

    Jack could understand that fear. They currently stood at the lowest level of their base, surrounded by the dead. A terrifying metal-encased creature had just turned a pod of thirty soldiers into mist with almost no effort.

    Two enemy soldiers broke their stunned panic by throwing spears at the Breaker. Nessa parried the weapons, redirecting them harmlessly to the side before they could do any damage. Closing the gap, she fired two incendiary rounds directly into their stomachs.

    ¡°Neilson, Morningwood, watch my back. I¡¯m going to take point,¡± Nessa said, knowing that no creature on this base was unaware of their presence, and she wanted to take them out as fast as possible.

    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Dave said, sprinting ahead to stand beside her with his longsword drawn and shield at the ready, ¡°Ain¡¯t no way you¡¯re going ahead without protection.¡±

    ¡°Love that you want to take care of one another, I really do, but we need to move,¡± Jack said, turning away from a special ¡®gift¡¯ that he and Warren had set up for their enemies.

    Knowing time was not on their side, Turaspeir Squad tore through tunnels with abandon. They didn¡¯t care what they broke or how many Oteric they killed on their ascent. They knew that if they were in the same situation, their enemies would show no mercy to them, either.

    After nearly twenty minutes of twisting tunnels and broken doors, they burst out onto the asphalt of the motor pool. Following a line to the predetermined vehicle, they boarded what was essentially a large, segmented tank. Unlike a tank, the machine wasn''t armed with weaponry and offered no protection from above.

    ¡°Dave, you¡¯re going to need to cover us from up top. Can you do it?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°Do you even need to ask?¡± The cowboy replied in a cocky tone.

    ¡°Oh, cool!¡± Alec said like a kid in a candy shop as he jumped into a tiny seat in the front. Staunchly ignoring everyone else, an orange glow expanded from his armor and seeped into the control panel seconds before it roared to life.

    ¡°Huh, turns out Dragoons are good for more than shooting and drinking beer,¡± Dave said, finding a seat in the middle of the machine to project his power from.

    ¡°Hey now, don¡¯t go spreading rumors that I¡¯m useful,¡± Alec replied. ¡°I have an image to maintain, you know, and that image has a cost. Like making sure my beer is cold.¡±

    ¡°It will, but the time for drinking is in a few hours, not now.¡± Jack scolded. ¡°Right now, the other squads are just moments away from each other. Follow the yellow line.¡±

    Without another word, the vehicle lurched into motion, only to be blocked by a gate that prevented them from exiting the lot. Not wanting to bother with a mundane solution for this problem, Alec called up the interface for a short-range bunker-buster mounted to his shoulder. Triggering the weapon with a thought, the missile slammed into the barrier and turned it into a smoldering ruin.

    ¡°Turns out that Smith really knows his stuff,¡± Alec laughed as they pulled away from the research complex. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to thank him for this bad boy when we get home.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re on a comm, remember?¡± The Sergeant huffed over the radio, ¡°And why the hell else would I be your quartermaster if I didn¡¯t know how to blow shit up?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to choose not to answer that one.¡±

    Before they could even make it a half-mile, a shockwave washed over the squad for the second time in a matter of minutes. However, unlike the missile Alec had used, this one packed so much punch it caused the heavy vehicle to hop a few inches off the ground.

    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Candice asked, armored fingers gripping the side of the machine so tightly she dented the metal.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°That,¡± Warren started proudly, ¡°Is payback for Ortiz. Because of them, our brother lost his body.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean life?¡± She corrected, drawing stares from everyone but Alec.

    ¡°No, I meant what I said. I was able to connect with his AI and transfer his consciousness into my armor. After I opened the Gate, I transferred his mind to the Re:birth server,¡± he explained. ¡°When the AHF needs another Binder, a body will be built and he will become a cast.¡±

    ¡°So Roberts was right? We don¡¯t get to die when we die?¡± Jack asked in shock. He knew that the AHF made fallen soldiers into Steel Cast, but he¡¯d always figured they were essentially just highly complex AI. Now he discovered they used the soldier¡¯s actual mind in their creation¡­

    When they¡¯d originally signed on with the AHF, they were given an ultimatum: either allow the AHF to do whatever they deemed necessary to preserve your ability to be mission ready, or remain on Earth. They¡¯d heard stories of a battalion composed only of steel soldiers that took the missions deemed too dangerous for live humans. Some soldiers even claimed to have worked with a Steel Cast or two on joint operations, but because of the quality of their construction, most just assumed the soldier was an amputee with a replacement limb. Jack foolishly brushed off those stories the same way he ignored most rumors from the gossip mill, but it turned out this one was true.

    Spier squad was being told¡ªin no uncertain terms¡ªthat their dead friend would one day be reborn into the body of a machine and rejoin the battle. Most still wouldn¡¯t believe it, but the transference of consciousness that was formerly reserved for Hargrave alone was now available to all soldiers.

    ¡°It¡¯s not perfect, but he¡¯ll be alive. People are coming to accept that more and more¡­ I think most people have come to realize that being Steel Cast is not nearly the curse that it was when the Unranked¡¯s built Hargrave¡¯s first body.¡± Warren defended, ¡°Think about it, would you rather die on an unfamiliar planet, or have the chance to see your friends and family again?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re still creepy,¡± Alec muttered.

    Ahead, they were coming up on yet another set of gates. Unlike the small ones Alec blasted through to get out of the motor pool, these were much larger and made of metal and concrete.

    ¡°Hey Cecile, it¡¯s time to earn your keep. The Lizards are being rude to us. They¡¯ve closed the door out to the wider world. Be a doll and open it, please.¡± The Dragoon said.

    ¡°Talk to me like that again, and you will get a chance to experience what it¡¯s like to have a set of Steel Cast nuts,¡± she replied with false sweetness, materializing a dagger and placing it on his thigh.

    Smiling nervously, Alec pushed her hand away from his most prized possessions. In turn, she dismissed the blade and sheathed the hilt before standing to pull her rifle from its mag-sling.

    As the long barrel solidified into her customary sniper rifle, she placed the bi-pod on the dash. Focusing, she channeled crimson energy into the weapon¡¯s chamber.

    ¡°Fifty percent.¡± She announced.

    ¡°Not going to be enough. Here, I¡¯ll help,¡± Nessa answered, touching the barrel and adding her own power to the effort.

    ¡°Eighty percent and rising. Shaping the explosive into a two-hundred-millimeter equivalent siege round.¡±

    Jack knew the round wouldn¡¯t truly be that size, but one advantage of Li-Tech was the ability to compress Light into a nearly infinite state. The bullet would only be as large as her usual long-range rounds but it would be packed with the destructive power of heavy artillery. It would take a lot out of her to pull this off, but doing so would blast a hole through the gate so wide they¡¯d be able to get the vehicle through with little to no issue.

    ¡°Ninety-five percent. Light compression successful. If I go any farther, I risk losing the whole thing.¡± She said, taking aim, ¡°Firing in 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­¡±

    A streak of crimson Light shot out of her weapon and slammed into the concrete gate. When Jack watched the replay later that night, it moved so fast it was only in view for a single frame. Truth be told, the tiny round was vastly underwhelming when compared to the crater it blasted through the barrier.

    It detonated a quarter mile away in a crimson flash, instantly blinding the Oteric unlucky enough to be looking in that direction without proper shielding. Lucky for the Humans, Li-Tech armor was well equipped to handle extreme levels of energy.

    The metal and stone that once stood firm as the only egress to the base was reduced to a pile of cooling slag. Nearly two feet of stone turned into liquid from the heat of so much energy being released at once. Guards posted outside of the blast radius were clawing at their ruined eyes while the rest were simply gone. A grim shadow burnt into the wall as the only proof they¡¯d ever existed.

    Alec pushed the transport to its limit, racing through the opening and crushing any enemy soldier in his way. If it wasn¡¯t for Dave¡¯s protective shield, Jack was certain the Oteric warriors would¡¯ve overrun the tank.

    Orange Light flared as Alec pulled more of the machine into himself and demanded that it work past its capacity. As they moved, the other members of the squad had their rifles up and were firing wildly into the hoard of enemy forces.

    Eventually, they broke through the enemy line and into a small open area a few feet from their target; a glowing blue dome that protected the other humans. Taking his queue, Dave pushed his shield outward, combining the two fields and bringing the transport¡ªand by extension Turaspeir¡ªonto the same piece of real estate as the rest of the company.

    ¡°Sergeant Rose, sitrep,¡± Jack commanded, knowing he was overstepping but simply did not care.

    ¡°Nice to see you, Private,¡± he replied, faceplate open and a cigarette hanging from his lips. ¡°This place is great. We get to mow down an army of lizards and I get to smoke., not something I get to do topside. How these guys managed to build a star drive, I¡¯ll never know.¡±

    ¡°We do, and I¡¯ll tell you later. Where are the others?¡±

    ¡°Oh, look at mister big shot finding out all the secrets,¡± he laughed, ¡°Striker is on the north side of the dome. Not going to lie, adding their power to the shield really helped. Now that you¡¯re here, maybe my Aegis¡¯s can hold out until we get home.¡±

    ¡°And Blackrock?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here Private, hold your damned horses,¡± Sergeants Scott¡¯s voice said over the comm. ¡°How did you push through the horde?¡±

    ¡°We ran them over with a big tank thing,¡± Jack informed, pulling up her viewpoint and seeing their predicament, ¡°But that won¡¯t work worth a damn for you.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get there, hold tight.¡±

    ¡°Sergeants Rose and Sanchez, don¡¯t let her bravado fool you. I¡¯m watching her position and they are surrounded. Do you think we can push about sixty meters that way?¡± He asked, pointing in the general direction of the missing soldiers.

    ¡°You¡¯re overstepping, Private.¡± She growled.

    ¡°He¡¯s saving your life,¡± Sanchez bit. ¡°By the way. ¡®general¡¯ Monroe, who died and made you tactician?¡±

    ¡°Someone had to stand up and save you old-timers. If not us, then who?¡± he retorted. ¡°Now, get moving and save our allies. Alexander and I are going to be mostly out of commission while we get a Gate open.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. Greenhorn has teeth and I like it. Striker, pull back and arrange in a push formation.¡±

    ¡°Aegis¡¯s form up on the center of the field and shape the dome into a tunnel. Possessors, Light up anything you have left. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s Warriors or Wasps, get them moving and ready to fight.¡± Sergeant Rose said, flicking away the cigarette and closing his faceplate.

    Jack silenced the command channel and walked away in search of the man that would be their salvation. Not surprisingly, the Possessor was sitting on the ground with his legs crossed and eyes closed. Jack looked at the threads and was impressed to see that Warren controlled no less than five drones.

    ¡°What, no Warrior?¡±

    ¡°Those are for emergencies,¡± Warren replied without opening his eyes. ¡°Since we have a way out, I don¡¯t consider it an emergency.¡±

    ¡°Noted. Can you set your drones to auto and help get us home?¡± Jack replied, rolling his eyes, ¡°I¡¯ve got a live connection to the ship now.¡±

    Pulling that strand of Light out of the creature cost Jack more than he was willing to admit. Because of that one interaction, creating and maintaining any connection was turning out to be much more difficult than it had any right to be. But just like the first time, he knew the entire mission depended on his ability to pull this off.

    A thread of indigo intertwined with his own violet Light as he pulled the possessor¡¯s mind up to the ship, penetrating the network the same way they did before. Jack wasn¡¯t able to watch exactly what was happening inside the machine, but he could see the Possessor¡¯s progress.

    Back on the battlefield, the dome of protective energy slid towards Blackrock¡¯s position. The progress was slow, especially since Striker and Nebula squads had to work around their own fortifications, but they would do what they needed to do to save their allies.

    The company kept pace as they moved, pushing back the hoard of angry combatants throwing themselves at the barrier. For the first time in his life, Jack was experiencing true carnage. He¡¯d been told the creatures they faced were a peaceful race with little ability to fight back.

    He was learning just how wrong intelligence could be, and he didn¡¯t like it.

    Humans were the aggressors, and the Oteric were simply trying to defend their homes. These people hadn¡¯t asked to be invaded, they hadn¡¯t threatened a human world, and they hadn¡¯t even met humans before today. In fact, their only sin was having a piece of technology the UHR wanted.

    Because of their actions today, hundreds of Oteric children would grow up as Orphans. Then, once they learned the truth, the UHR would have the enemy they so desired.

    If it wasn¡¯t for the greed of politicians, Ortiz would still be alive.

    ¡°You and I are about to have a talk, Private,¡± Sergeant Scott snarled, marching up to Jack and shoving a finger into his chest. ¡°I told you I had a mission to complete. Hell, you saw the briefing. We were supposed to get the engine and cause havoc. But instead of letting me do my job, you threatened me for stepping outside of your little box.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and if you have a problem with the way I handled it, we can talk about it at a later time,¡± he replied flatly, pushing her hand away, ¡°Just because you outrank me up there does not mean that you call the shots when my guys are in trouble. Now, you and I can either have this conversation in private, or we can continue broadcasting it to the entire company, including command.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± she spat, motioning to her Possessor, ¡°Blow the charges we set before Monroe ¡®demanded¡¯ we leave.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Jack cut in, ¡°There is no reason to cripple these people any more than the mission demands. Going even a step farther is, frankly, evil.¡±

    ¡°And now the PFC thinks he can tell me what to do with my own squad?¡± she bellowed. ¡°Blow the lizards into nothingness, Avi.¡±

    ¡°Serg, I can¡¯t¡­ something is blocking me.¡±

    The Sergeant whirled on Jack and was met with a grin. Little did she know that moments before she¡¯d given the order, he¡¯d sent a message to Warren, asking him to split his focus and defuse the other Possessor¡¯s bomb.

    Sensing the older possessor¡¯s presence in the bombs, Warren sharpened his will into a stake and drove it into the other¡¯s mind. Most Possessors didn¡¯t bother training to fight other humans, and so were understandably surprised when someone took control of their equipment from them.

    Back in his own perspective, Jack saw the look of horror on the Possessor¡¯s face as he realized what had just happened. Two privates had forced him out of his own machine because he wasn¡¯t watching his back. Ironically, if he would¡¯ve stayed focused rather than thinking he was untouchable, Warren would¡¯ve never gotten through. However, he was so afraid to be caught committing war crimes; he didn¡¯t even try to regain control over the equipment.

    ¡°What¨C how¨C why are you stopping me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, but we¡¯ve completed the mission. We retrieved the engine, nothing in the briefing said we had to cripple them and you know it.¡± Jack said, knowing this would become a bigger deal before the day was through, ¡°The Gate is open, I suggest we all take a step back and go home before something else happens.¡±

    Jack hadn¡¯t stopped broadcasting to the entire company and knew that everyone had just heard him try to intimidate a Sergeant. Those that could turn and stare, did. If only to get a look at the idiot that had threatened another platoon leader.

    ¡°Striker is through. Nebula, you¡¯re up,¡± Warren said, relaying the orders from the Gate room.

    As more Aegis¡¯ left the field of battle, the protective dome shrunk significantly. As Nebula¡¯s soldiers left, two soldiers from that squad remained.

    ¡°Speir, we¡¯re up,¡± Warren grabbed Jack by the arm and dragged him to the shimmering, cracked surface of the Gate, ¡°Scott has to decide if her own personal desire to murder and destroy is greater than her desire to keep her men alive, you did your part.¡±

    ¡°Screw this, I¡¯m not dying for her,¡± A Breaker said, slapping his rifle into its mag-holster and turning to follow Jack and his squad.

    ¡°Sergeant, get back here. We still have work to do.¡± Scott sneered, obviously miffed that things weren¡¯t going her way.

    ¡°Scott, stand down,¡± Captain Griffin said. ¡°Richardson, please pick up your platoon sergeant and deliver her to me.¡±

    Shrugging, the burley breaker grabbed Scott around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. To an outsider, it would almost be comical to watch. The image of an AHF soldier pounding her fists on a squad mate¡¯s back while being carried away like a barbarian bride was something straight out of a cartoon.

    Jack looked at the battleground one last time and felt the weight of what happened today. He¡¯d been a major player in a mission that did nothing but harm, and he hated himself for it. Hopefully, they would never be forced into another situation like this, but he was smarter than that.

    All he could do was try to reduce the harm they did and rise to those occasions with honor instead of blind obedience.

    In hardship¡­

    His father¡¯s voice echoed through his mind, reinforcing his conviction that he¡¯d risen to the challenge and done the right thing.

    Turning away from the corpse-strewn battlefield, he stepped through the shattered surface of the Gate.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 66

    ¡°Next thing you know, these bleeding heart liberals will start saying that we need to make friends with the aliens. We¡¯ve been fine for this long. Why in the hell would we want to invite that kind of rabble into our homes? Folks, you saw it here first. It won¡¯t be long before alien refugees are taking your job and leaving you with scraps.¡± ¨C From Bucker Jarlson Tonight, May 3, 3265

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain to you just how unbelievably stupid you are! At what point during that mission did you decide it was ok to get in a pissing match with another platoon?¡± Hawkins yelled at Jack while the rest of the squad removed their armor.

    They were in fourth platoon¡¯s armory, but soon they would move to the briefing room with the other three platoons, and this dressing down would begin again. It wasn¡¯t fair, Jack knew that, but at the end of the day, Scott was a higher rank than him. He had no right to command her, yet he did so anyway.

    ¡°Sir, I¡­¡±

    ¡°I frankly don¡¯t give a shit what you¡¯re about to say. Not only did you force your will on another squad, you also threatened to leave if she didn¡¯t bow to your will.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the¡­¡±

    ¡°Just because the Cap chose to back you up does not mean we didn¡¯t hear what happened. What, you didn¡¯t think they deserved to die by human hands?¡±

    ¡°No Sir, I¡­¡±

    ¡°Look, you did a great job on that field¡­ despite losses. But playing the bleeding heart for a group of aliens we had no desire to save was not the right move,¡± Hawkins said, pacing across the room. ¡°Your squad decided not to kill any more than necessary to complete the mission. Care to explain why?¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir¡­¡± Jack stammered, fully expecting to be cut off again, ¡°Why hurt a people more than we absolutely have to? We made a lot of orphans today. If they weren¡¯t enemies of mankind before, they will be now.¡±

    ¡°So it was less humanitarian than it was trying to minimize our impact on their world.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir. Their weapons and fighting style, well¡­ it just doesn¡¯t make sense to say they built that engine.¡±

    ¡°Right then,¡± Hawkins said, clapping his hands, ¡°Save the rest for the debriefing. Drop your armor and meet me in five.¡±

    The Officer walked out of the room without turning to face the soldiers.

    If they¡¯d seen the prideful smile on his face, they would probably lose respect for him.

    And he couldn¡¯t have them thinking this mission had gone well¡­ it wasn¡¯t his place.

    Five minutes later, Turaspeir squad stood at attention with the rest of their company, waiting for the Captain to stop pacing and get the debriefing over with.

    ¡°Starting with the newest, Fourth Platoon. Report,¡± she said, much more formally than normal.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, Fourth Platoon reports a successful mission. Further details will be recounted by Private Monroe,¡± Hawkins said, stepping forward and calling Jack to the front of their formation.

    ¡°Captain, I¡¯m fairly certain the Oteric did not build that engine,¡± Jack began. ¡°They were¡­ primitive. They had steel forgery and advanced circuitry, but almost nothing projectile-based. If I had to give it a number, I would say they were no more advanced than twenty-third-century Earth without guns.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. But we already knew they were not exactly a ¡®warlike¡¯ species. What¡¯s strange is that they choose to fight hand to hand when projectiles are so easy to create.¡±

    ¡°Even given the number of enemy soldiers we fought, not once did two of them team up against one of ours. I believe it has something to do with their perception of honor.¡±

    ¡°So we did nothing but prove ourselves craven?¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± Jack replied, ¡°luckily they were easy enough to fight.¡±

    From behind, Jack heard a pointed cough. One of his squad mates was clearly not going to allow him to forget about the one that killed Ortiz. He saw its terrible haunting smile every time he blinked, images of his friend¡¯s death encompassing his every thought.

    ¡°Except for one.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you mentioned that while you were still down there. Care to explain?¡±

    This was the meat of the conversation and the real reason they were first in the debriefing order. The idea that Jack would have to describe details he didn¡¯t want to remember chilled him to the bone. It wasn¡¯t hard to recall, but it was nightmarish to tell.

    ¡°Would I like to explain? No, not really,¡± Jack said, breathing deep, ¡°But, I suppose I don¡¯t really have a choice, do I?¡±

    A tight-lipped shake of the head was all he needed to see before launching into a retelling of the battle. He explained everything, starting with the redirected landing, and finishing with the infiltration of the facility. At first, the story was going well. There wasn¡¯t anything to even complain about.

    But when he tried to describe what happened to Ortiz, he froze.

    Fear washed over him like an ice-cold wave, crystal clear memories from the battle flashing before his eyes. The way it moved, the near invulnerability to Li-Tech, the way it laughed at their pain¡­ everything. It all made him want to run to his cabin and seal the door, never to step foot on an inhabited world again.

    To treat all of this like it had never happened.

    But it did happen, and the missing face in their ranks was an all too real reminder of that.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, the creature¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t know how to describe it. But I can say without a doubt that it was not an Oteric. Li-Tech couldn¡¯t touch it at all. It was like the bullets just went through it. I¡¯m not sure if it was some sort of tech they had or if the creature could just do it on its own, but its body was malleable. It took everything I had just to pull a single strand out,¡± Jack explained, watching the look of concern deepen on her face.

    ¡°So, how did you kill it? It is dead, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am. When I finally was able to pull a frequency out of it, I looped my team in on that same strand. Forcing Light out of the creature was the key. Once Light can both enter and leave their bodies, we can kill them.¡±

    ¡°By completing the circuit.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Unfortunately, before we could figure that out, it killed Ortiz.¡± Jack said somberly, ¡°The truth is, we are lucky there was only one of them. By itself, it was able to seriously hurt our team. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to handle pulling another strand out of another one.¡±

    ¡°West,¡± she said, pointing at the Aegis, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you block it with a shield? I get our weapons couldn¡¯t touch it, but surely a barrier could¡¯ve helped.¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, that thing walked through my shields like a hot knife through butter. It was like they weren¡¯t even there,¡± Dave answered. ¡°It went through three before I figured out it wasn¡¯t doing us any good.¡±

    ¡°Once Light becomes concentrated enough, it can even hold out the vacuum of space. If this thing can really do what you say¡­ well, it spells very bad things for the AHF as a whole,¡± Captain Griffin said, ¡°Thank you for the report. Hawkins, document this and have it on my desk in the next few hours. As for you nine, fall out and get some rest¡­ You¡¯ve earned it.¡±

    The exhausted soldiers of Turaspeir broke formation, walking towards the door only to be stopped inches from freedom.

    ¡°Oh, and one more thing, you¡¯ll probably hear more about Ortiz in the near future. Don¡¯t be surprised if someone comes asking questions.¡± She said, stopping the squad, ¡°but you all did a good job down there. If it wouldn¡¯t have been for your actions¡­ well, this room would have many more missing faces.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am,¡± Jack said, taking the compliment for the entire squad. They would have time to recognize what they¡¯d done, but tonight was not that time.

    That night, Jack lay in his bunk, unable to sleep. The horror of the day¡¯s events still burned in his mind, refusing to give him a moment of peace. He and Thea had decided not to join the others at the bar, a mistake he was regretting with every passing moment.

    The couple had enjoyed their evening away from the group. They¡¯d gone to one of the nicer restaurants and simply talked about everything they¡¯d seen and done that day. Thea tried to drill into him that Ortiz¡¯s death was not on his hands and that the mission was an overall success. She even explained that it didn¡¯t matter what he did, someone was about to get hurt in the field one day.

    But Jack was having a hard time accepting that.

    Her ability to rationalize everything was a gift. As much as Jack wanted to begrudge her for that ability, he couldn¡¯t.

    He kept asking himself why they had to die. What excuse could possibly be good enough to justify breaking into a foreign laboratory to steal tech that was obviously not native to the planet? Could the brass explain why they, a supposed defensive force, had to murder every Oteric they passed?

    And if they could explain all that, could they explain why Ortiz¡¯s life was worth so little?

    They¡¯d slaughtered soldiers that wore almost no armor. Their weapons? Hardly even worth mentioning. If it wouldn¡¯t have been for the toxin on the end of the Oteric weapons, they would have been less effective than cavemen throwing spears at an iron wall. Truth be told, if it wasn¡¯t for their poisons, any soldier could¡¯ve held the hallway alone.

    In the end, the best conclusion was that these people didn¡¯t create the engine. With their level of technical ineptitude, it was simply the only answer.

    So, if they couldn¡¯t have built it, who did?

    But in his heart, he knew¡­ oh; he knew.

    The memory of a creature standing taller than the rest of its ¡®kin¡¯ flashed in his mind. Its skin¡ªif it could even be called that¡ªwas blacker than the space between the stars. It contrasted the stone walls so completely it felt like the creature was drinking in the surrounding light.

    He remembered thinking it was nothing more than a big Oteric, or maybe even their version of special forces. It was a plausible theory until its arm unraveled into a wriggling mass of tentacles and crushed his friend.

    When he closed his eyes, he could hear the crack of breaking glass as Ortiz¡¯s faceplate finally gave way to the pressure.

    The engine.

    There was no doubt in his mind that the horrific creature he¡¯d met down there had built it, and that its species was significantly more advanced than humans. Was it even possible to fight something that was a natural counter to their powers and technology?

    His thoughts were cut short by a message ping in the corner of his HUD. As much as he intended to take it off when he slept, leaving it on was more habit than it wasn¡¯t at this point. Ironically, it was almost as bad as his prior obsession of carrying his mobile device back on Earth¡­ except that it was literally attached to his face.

    Come to my office. I know you¡¯re awake. ¨C Albert

    Unable to ignore a request from the leader of his corps, Jack carefully extracted himself from the tangle of limbs that was Thea and quietly slipped on a crumpled uniform from the corner of their shared cabin. He hated leaving her with no notice, but what else was he supposed to do? When an Unranked officer tells you to jump, you don¡¯t ask him to reschedule. The most he could do was send her a message and hope she saw it when she woke up.

    He took his time getting to the Unranked Officer¡¯s cabin for several reasons. First, he was not in a hurry to retell the story of Ortiz¡¯s death again. Laying it out for the Captain was more than he wanted, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t be the last time. Second, he was pretty sure that Sergeant Scott would make her formal complaint soon, and when it happened, it wouldn¡¯t be fun. If this middle-of-the-night adventure was the beginning of that conversation, he was screwed. Last, and the most important to him at that moment, he didn¡¯t like being pulled from his bed. Most conversations could wait until morning if the Officer chose. Calling him in the night meant it was probably something he didn¡¯t want to hear.

    Jack was no longer affected by the sheer opulence on display in the Officer¡¯s cabin. He¡¯d spent enough time with the man to realize that his position matched his tastes. If not, there was no way he¡¯d be able to afford the wooden desk and large number of books on display.

    ¡°I got your message,¡± Jack said, settling into the chair facing Albert¡¯s desk.

    ¡°Obviously. I needed to speak to you regarding the mission.¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± Jack said with a frown. The last thing he wanted was to relive those memories¡­ again, and yet, here he was. The man had to know the mission was traumatic and that he needed time to recover.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to ask you to retell the story. As unfortunate as it is, they will force you to retell it a number of times in the near future. Any chance I have to save you pain¡ªeven if only a little¡ªwill be taken.¡±

    The desk had been modified to house the large touchscreen system that Officers used to feel important. It was useful, but there was nothing it could do that his Vis-HUD couldn¡¯t. Right now, for instance, it displayed a 3D model of the creature¡¯s body laid out on a slab.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jack said sincerely, happy to find a note of empathy in the man.

    ¡°No¡­ I don¡¯t think you should,¡± Albert replied sadly. ¡°You see, Jack, we¡¯ve known about those creatures for quite some time. We Unranked Officers have fought them on several occasions, and while we can defeat them, it isn¡¯t always a walk in the park.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me, but if you¡¯ve known about them, why was Captain Griffin so surprised by what I told her?¡±

    ¡°Because for her, it was the first time she¡¯d heard about them. We have kept their existence from the general population of the AHF. In fact, only the Steel Brigade really knows everything.¡±

    ¡°What are they? When did we first run into them?¡± Jack asked, filing away the tidbit about the Steel Brigade and focusing on the real questions.

    ¡°I can somewhat answer the first question, but you don¡¯t have a high enough clearance for the second,¡± Albert replied, thinking hard about what he could and couldn¡¯t say, ¡°I will try to explain, but you will leave this room unsatisfied.¡±

    ¡°We know very little about them, not even what they call themselves. The handful of times we¡¯ve been able to interrogate one, it¡¯s been tight-lipped until the last breath. What we do know is they are a type of invertebrate that can mold their bodies into nearly any shape they want with little to no difficulty. Every time we¡¯ve encountered one, it¡¯s holding the shape of whatever creature it is fighting alongside.¡±

    ¡°At first, we thought they resembled the Earth octopus, but later found that it does not have the camouflage that terrestrial cephalopods have. We also discovered that they use their ability to change shape as a way to integrate with the species they are trying to subjugate.¡±

    ¡°Have you fought enough of them to say that subjugation is the goal, or is it just a presumption?¡± Jack interrupted, drawing an annoyed looked from the old scientist.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that, at this point, it is still just a presumption. We hope not because if they are taking over these planets, we are in for a much bloodier war than we expect,¡± Albert replied gravely, sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers. ¡°We also know these creatures have incredible strength and are nearly immune to Li-Tech. I need to know¡­ how did you pull it off?¡±

    ¡°Well sir, after it killed Ortiz, I just kinda lost it. It was fully immune to our weapons and I couldn¡¯t understand what was happening. When I looked at the threads, I saw no Light escaping its body,¡± Jack explained, ¡°I was so angry and sad, and a dozen more emotions I don¡¯t even know how to verbalize. I just knew that I needed to understand why.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And nothing. I forced one frequency into its body and pulled with everything I had¡­ it hurt so bad I thought I was going to die. Eventually, I forced the circuit to close, and all of the sudden our attacks started hitting the creature.¡±

    ¡°And that worked?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ I had to loop the rest of the squad in on that frequency, but yes, it did.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Albert said, standing up to look out of the glass-steel window that took up an entire wall of his office. ¡°Jack, we are headed to Phoenix Prime. Your commanders and I have been ordered to give a recount of what happened today. As you know, nobody in your chain of command experienced these creatures. As a result, nobody other than your team can answer their questions.¡±

    ¡°Who could possibly have the authority to command you to do¡­ anything?¡±

    ¡°The Senate,¡± he replied simply, ¡°but this only concerns you because they¡¯ve already expressed an interest in hearing directly from you.¡±

    ¡°And if I don¡¯t want to give another retelling?¡±

    ¡°Too bad. This is what happens when you run into a race of murderous squids and lose a squad mate because of it,¡± he said in a matter-of-fact tone before changing the subject, ¡°So, now that you¡¯ve been on a real mission, how do you feel about fighting on the front lines?¡±

    ¡°Honestly?¡±

    ¡°Honestly.¡±

    ¡°It did nothing but concrete my belief that I should always fight beside my men. If I hadn¡¯t been there to pull that thread, every member of that squad would have died. However, I can see the merit in playing a midfield role where I can support while still being on the ground,¡± he explained.

    ¡°How very mature of you. Based on our previous conversations, I was sure that you¡¯d be in the front row with Private Walker, sword in hand, and ready to die for the cause.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid Sir, I know for a fact that I could never keep pace with her. Sure, she can be a little rough around the edges, but I¡¯ve never seen a person fight like she does.¡± Jack said, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair, ¡°Someone needed to assist the others in securing the package, and it didn¡¯t make sense to take one of my real fighters away from the battlefield to do it.¡±

    ¡°I never said that you were stupid, nor did I say that Private Walker wasn¡¯t a prot¨¦g¨¦ with the blade. I merely suggested that fighting on the front lines was not a wise move for someone that is essentially a support person,¡± he placated. ¡°Your actions, your choices, saved many lives today. You did better than any greenhorn team has the right to, and you did it without complaint. Those salty soldiers out there owe you their lives, and they know it.¡±

    Jack didn¡¯t see it like that and didn¡¯t know if he ever could. Sure, his choice to go find the others saved their lives, but at what cost? Wasn¡¯t it also his choice that landed them away from the primary fighting force? Didn¡¯t he, a Private, force a Sergeant to obey his commands?

    ¡°Thank you, Sir,¡± he replied, not voicing his concerns.

    ¡°Get some sleep Jack. The next few days will not get any easier.¡±

    Nodding, he rose to his feet and wished the Unranked Officer a good night¡¯s rest. The idea of sleep was now more alien than ever, especially knowing what was to come. While the conversation was enlightening, the information left much to be desired.

    Where did we first encounter these things, and why was it so secret?

    Would future interactions with them be just as bloody?

    The only thing he knew for certain as he tried to crawl back into bed with Thea was that he needed answers. Without them, it would be impossible to keep his friends alive. If he was supposed to be their leader, then it was his job to figure out how to protect them.

    As he drifted off to a fitful sleep, he knew one thing for certain. He would need to be stronger to face these things on equal footing.

    Much stronger.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 67

    ¡°Stolen Technology? Recent news sources say that humans have developed almost nothing on their own. Join me tonight as we dig into the secrets of the ancient Egyptians of Earth and how these primitive people used the power of Li-Tech to build their empire.¡± ¨C From Mysteries Unsolved, conspiracies through the ages.

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking get you!¡± Alec screamed, throwing his wrench across the room and slamming a fist into the engine. Wincing in pain, he grabbed the now injured hand and let out yet another curse, ¡°I¡¯ve seen your schematics, which I can¡¯t read. I¡¯ve torn you apart. I¡¯ve completely rebuilt you twice now, but no part of you makes any goddamned sense!¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, injure yourself. That¡¯ll give us the answer,¡± Warren said without looking up from the screen, ¡°Failing to figure this out won¡¯t hurt our careers at all. In fact, keep beating on it like a monkey with a wrench and see how quickly you can get this project taken from us. It¡¯s not like our patron Officers aren¡¯t Silva and Ross, the two biggest tech geniuses in human history.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m so damned frustrated.¡± He kicked the chassis of the stolen engine to accentuate his point.

    Getting the first crack at a new piece of alien technology was a long-standing tradition in the AHF. It was almost like the engine was the ¡®spoils of war¡¯ and they had the right to choose how and when it would be shared with the rest of the organization. That said, Command expected them to make some sort of progress fairly quickly. If they failed, command would probably pass them up for future honors like this.

    Sadly, the engine had proven to be little more than a big paperweight. Its secrets were still proving far out of reach for the two young soldiers, and it was grating on their nerves.

    The engine¡¯s software was well past the realm of the unfamiliar, and into the realm of the ridiculous. Besides being in a language he didn¡¯t know, the operating system itself just didn¡¯t make sense. After three days of constantly pouring over it, the two men found little more than that it was¡ªin fact¡ªan engine.

    They¡¯d been able to get the basic software off the ground with a little creative application of electricity, but the primary power input required much more energy than they could produce to get it working. Nothing in the human tool-belt had reached that threshold, not Light, nuclear, or even old-school combustion.

    ¡°Have you had any luck figuring out that port?¡± Warren asked, rubbing his temples as he pulled his mind out of the machine.

    ¡°Nothing more than we have so far. There is a slight magnetic pull toward the housing in the back, but nothing I¡¯ve tried can make the turbine spin.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s time to send this up the chain? We¡¯ve exhausted our knowledge and gotten exactly nowhere. We aren¡¯t tech experts. The only reason we even got this chance is because we stole it.¡±

    They¡¯d both thought about it, but neither of them had dared voice the option. After nearly a month of ripping the machine apart and putting it back together, both men were beyond tired. The idea of handing over their prize was becoming more and more inviting every day.

    ¡°I get that, I really do. But I wanna be the one that brings our findings to the Commander.¡± Alec whined, ¡°We would look good, and I know that we both like looking good.¡±

    Warren gave him a long, silent, condescending look.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. What do you think would happen if we brought the brass real answers about how it works?¡±

    ¡°We would look good. But think about the flip side of that coin. How would we look after months of study, only to tell them we have nothing?¡±

    ¡°Dave,¡± Alec yelled to his friend as he walked through the door, ¡°Please explain to Captain Pessimist here that we will look awesome when we get this thing working.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, brother, but I have to agree with him.¡± Dave replied, approaching the engine, ¡°You might make a discovery soon, or you might not. If you don¡¯t think those chances are high enough, it might be time to give it up.¡±

    As he talked, Dave fiddled with the machine aimlessly. As a kid, his dad taught him the basics of engine maintenance. Sure, he hadn¡¯t paid nearly enough attention, but he had caught on well enough to know how to turn a wrench and fix a tractor.

    He started trying to remove the faceplate to examine the inner workings. Being able to see the big picture often helped with troubleshooting. It was something he¡¯d done hundreds of times with electric tractors. Could this be much different?

    The tip of the omni driver slipped as he repositioned his hand. With a thud, it touched the power input and produced a metallic rending sound that tore through the room.

    Dave jumped back and stared at the twisted remains of the tool. Its Light-emitting tip was torn apart as if it were made of aluminum instead of titanium alloy. The only part left was the handle, and even it looked like a stretched piece of taffy.

    ¡°We¡¯ve tried that already,¡± Alec said from the pile of boxes he sat on. ¡°There is a way to disassemble it. You remove that center disk, and it all comes apart. But we don¡¯t have tools strong enough to break the fastener along the rim. The force required is much higher than anything we possess.¡±

    ¡°So, that part is the answer.¡± He replied with a shrug and leaned toward the housing. An unseen force pulled his dog tags toward the metal as he got closer.

    ¡°Partially? We think? Either way, we are missing a vital piece of the puzzle.¡± Warren said, casting the schematics to Dave¡¯s HUD and overlaying them with the engine, ¡°We can¡¯t read the writing, but we know it used to have an external power source. The problem is that we can¡¯t exactly replicate what we don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I think that external power source bit is a bit obvious,¡± Alec said, joining them. ¡°I mean, how else are you going to run it?¡±

    ¡°So, why can¡¯t we just use Light to power it? What is it looking for? Explain it to me slow,¡± Dave interrupted with a raised hand.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Warren looked at his partner briefly, wondering where to start. He couldn¡¯t fathom why the Aegis even bothered coming down here if he didn¡¯t understand basic tech in the first place. Hell, it had taken the big man nearly a year just to get used to using his Vis-HUD properly.

    On the other hand, Alec knew exactly what Dave could and couldn¡¯t do. The former farmer could fix just about anything. Throughout their life, he¡¯d repeatedly shown that even if he couldn¡¯t remember the names of parts, he knew what they did and how to make them work. Years of repairing tractors gave him the skill, and despite a lack of formal education, taught him that manuals were just about useless.

    ¡°As you know, one of the most primitive forms of harnessed energy was and still is fossil fuel. Its issues are simple¨C it¡¯s not renewable, and it is terribly ineffective. Old combustion engines only had about twenty-eight percent energy efficiency.¡± Alec explained, ¡°For nuclear, we have to convert its raw energy into something useable. It¡¯s very hard to work with, but it has significantly better efficiency at ninety-three percent.¡±

    ¡°Not to mention the danger. Even today, containing that much of nuclear power is difficult,¡± Warren added.

    ¡°True, but I think that¡¯s mostly because of the lack of research after Li-Tech became the norm for power generation.¡±

    ¡°What about solar?¡± Dave asked. ¡°We had a few panels at the farm, and they seemed to do pretty good.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but that also required a conversion from DC to AC. Not to mention that¡ªeven now¡ªthere is quite a bit of lost potential.¡±

    ¡°And liquid Light powers this ship, right? Why does Earth not have this power?¡±

    ¡°Because Li-Tech isn¡¯t allo¡­¡± Alec started.

    ¡°They do, but the batteries are disguised so regular people don¡¯t find out,¡± Warren said.

    Alec looked at him with a mixture of mistrust and confusion. ¡°How the hell would you know?¡±

    ¡°I just¡­ do. You know what, never mind, I must be mistaken.¡± Warren¡¯s poor attempt at covering the slip was incredibly obvious, but the other men left it for what it was. ¡°When the Founders discovered the Particle, they were originally looking for a long term, high-capacity power source that was easily renewed. Frankly, they found exactly what they were looking for. When the math is drawn and the cards are down, Li-tech batteries capture and use ninety-nine percent of the potential energy and have no waste. It blew all other forms of power generation out of the water.¡±

    ¡°So, what you¡¯re telling me is, those little squid things harnessed a power we ain¡¯t never heard of, nor have the slightest clue what it might be?¡± Dave asked skeptically.

    ¡°That¡¯s about the short of it.¡± Alec said, ¡°And quite frankly, there is a chance we never find out what it is. Humankind hasn¡¯t needed to develop an alternative power source in so long because we haven¡¯t found a limit to Light.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± the former farmer said, throwing what remained of his Omnidriver into the trash, ¡°Well boys, I know of a power source neither of you has mentioned yet, and I am offended that you are ignoring it.¡±

    Warren just stared at the man with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Pizza. I¡¯m hungry and you two ain¡¯t been out of this room in days. Let¡¯s get some food, and then you can come back here and scratch your head, and I¡¯ll head back to the gym.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been hitting that gym harder than ever,¡± Alec observed.

    ¡°Yeah, I have.¡± Dave said, ¡°And I¡¯m gonna keep at it too. If Jack could stop one of those damn things with just his Optic power, I shoulda been able to as well. I ain¡¯t gonna stop trying to get stronger until I can beat one of those things on my own. I¡­ I won¡¯t watch a friend die like that again. Not while I stand powerless on the sidelines.¡±

    ¡°I thought you two were holed up in the workshop?¡± Jack said, sliding into a booth in one of the Washington¡¯s many restaurants, ¡°Hit another wall?¡±

    ¡°Same wall,¡± Alec grumbled, a look of sheer annoyance on his face.

    ¡°Too bad we can¡¯t translate the damned instructions. We might have an answer then,¡± Warren said by way of explanation.

    ¡°Alright then. Well, as much as I love watching my friends pound their heads into a wall over and over, we need to talk about something for a bit.¡±

    ¡°No, please, anything but changing the subject from the source of our discomfort,¡± Warren said sarcastically, ¡°How can we possibly live without the constant reminder of our troubles?¡±

    ¡°As much as I wish I could offer a helping hand, I¡¯m so mechanically useless that it would somehow turn into a pile of slag just from me being in the room.¡±

    ¡°And don¡¯t you forget that either,¡± Alec threatened with a chicken wing. ¡°We don¡¯t need you in there cocking this thing up.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t be worse than me. I broke an Omni after about thirty seconds.¡± Dave shrugged.

    ¡°Nah, I bet it stole your lunch money, and you were just giving it the justice it deserved,¡± Jack chuckled. ¡°As for you, I wouldn¡¯t just ¡®cock it up.¡¯ That implies that you could fix it with enough time and energy. No, if I touch it¡­ it¡¯s ruined.¡±

    ¡°I still can¡¯t help but think the right move is to pass this thing along and hope we can remain involved.¡± Warren said quietly, ¡°Look at it, it¡¯s obviously got components we will never decipher, much less replicate.¡±

    ¡°But the prestige,¡± Alec moaned, ¡°What about the possibilities, the fame, the girls?¡±

    ¡°When¡¯s the last time you got laid because of your mechanic skills? Don¡¯t try too hard, it¡¯s never.¡± Dave jabbed, forcing a bit of reality back into Alec¡¯s delusion.

    The Dragoon chewed on the wing slowly, lost in thought. After a few hard moments of contemplation, he put the naked bone down and sighed, ¡°Ah, I guess. Honestly, it really is the right course. I wish we could figure it out, but we can¡¯t find a single clue.¡±

    ¡°Sorry man, I know how much it meant to both of you,¡± Jack consoled. ¡°I have some good news! Or maybe bad. I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ll let you decide.¡±

    Sending them a copy of the message from command, he continued, ¡°We¡¯re being called to Phoenix Prime to provide testimony to the Senate.¡±

    ¡°How in the ever-living fuck is that a good thing?¡± Dave asked, choking on his drink.

    ¡°Because we will have a few days planet side to do as we please. They only need us for a little while. Griffin and Summers will do the heavy lifting with the politicians. Which means we get to spend some time on a planet where we don¡¯t have to kill anything. We can just enjoy our life for a few days,¡± he said with more than a little excitement in his voice.

    The look on their faces nearly matched his own. The idea of being on a planet that showed the full splendor of mankind was so intoxicating, their excitement could easily match that of a six-month-old puppy.

    ¡°And, because I know we¡¯ll have at least one night to ourselves, I¡¯ve taken the liberty of reserving hotel rooms for the squad,¡± Jack grinned widely, ¡°Sure, the part with the senate will suck, but afterward we can enjoy ourselves.¡±

    ¡°If half the stories about Phoenix are true, this is going to be one hell of a few days,¡± Warren said around a mouthful of pizza.

    ¡°I hope we can find a live Light Ball match. I¡¯ve seen every game this season on my HUD, but the real thing would be killer!¡± Dave nearly shouted. His passion for the sport was clearly present on his face.

    Ever since that first game two years ago, Dave¡ªfor lack of a better term¡ªhadn¡¯t shut up about it. He subjected them to endless hours of commentary about games they hadn¡¯t seen, and statistics they didn¡¯t care about. If the need to train wasn¡¯t so pressing, Jack was certain the big man would spend every waking hour watching match after match.

    ¡°Alright, alright. IF a game is playing, I¡¯ll go with you. If not, we go find something else, cool?¡± Jack said, swiping another slice of pizza as he stood. ¡°You guys get some rest¡­ real rest. I have to let everyone else know.¡±

    ¡°Yeah sure, we all know that¡¯s just code for spending the night with Thea,¡± Warren remarked. ¡°I suspect tonight will be yet another round of washing her back?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know,¡± he answered, waving goodbye with the slice of pizza.

    He drafted the message while standing just outside the doors of the establishment. After all, he wasn¡¯t kidding about letting everyone know¡­ he just wouldn¡¯t do it in person.

    Well, perhaps one.

    Warren didn¡¯t need to know how accurate his prediction was, and he definitely didn¡¯t need to know about the¡­ other activities the two had planned for that night.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 68

    ¡°The issue in the UHR today is the total lack of trust between the arms of government. The Court doesn¡¯t trust the High Minister, the High Minister doesn¡¯t trust the Senate, and the Senate doesn¡¯t trust the Court. And none of that touches on how little trust or respect the Senate has for the AHF. If things don¡¯t change, well, we all know what happened to Rome.¡± ¨C From Free the Presses, an analysis of the UHR.

    ¡°Jump to Phoenix Prime will begin in five seconds.¡± The Commander said over the ship-wide intercom.

    After two years in the AHF¡ªone of which was completed in space¡ªJack had become very accustomed to the process of Light-based Gate travel. While being broken down into particles of Light and reassembled on the other side was never pleasant, it no longer left him feeling sick.

    True to habit, he found himself standing hand in hand with Thea in the Observatory when a beautiful blue-green orb appeared after they rematerialized. It was similar to Earth, but it lacked the grayish taint of pollution caused by a thousand years of indifference.

    And it was larger, much larger.

    Two rings encircled the planet, crossing at the poles and held in place by a series of elevators. On the surface, the shadow of these great mega-structures swept across the landscape like a wave across water as they watched from Orbit.

    These bands provided more than just an occasional break from the sun, they actively generated power for the population. A super-absorbent material coated the outside of the rings, taking in massive amounts of Light and converting it to power. The inner portion of the structure sat the largest megalopolis in human history and served as the primary gateway of commerce for the UHR.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Jack whispered, unable to tear his eyes from the planet before him.

    ¡°I never thought a planet could feel more like home than Earth, but here I am proven wrong,¡± Thea said in awe.

    They watched as a cargo ship left its hanger and flew silently toward the hub-ship. Knowing it was probably for them, the couple left to join their company. It wouldn¡¯t be long before they had the chance to explore somewhere new, and that thought was intoxicating.

    Soldiers of the Seventh Mechanized, we will be in orbit of Phoenix for the next few days. All with the proper clearance may take a shuttle to the ring city of Orasinel and the elevator down to the planet¡¯s surface if they so choose. You will be notified via HUD six hours before we disembark. Enjoy your leave.

    The memo appeared in Jack¡¯s HUD mere moments after stepping into the hangar. Inside, hundreds of soldiers stood in formation, waiting for their chance to get off the ship and into fresh air. Near the center of the crowd, he spied Captain Griffin at the head of their company, giving a final set of orders before leave began.

    When he saw the empty place where Ortiz normally stood, a pang of sadness hit him like a punch in the face. A month had already passed, but such a short time didn¡¯t ease the guilt Jack felt for being unable to save him. It didn¡¯t matter if he¡¯d return as a Steel Cast. To Jack, his friend was dead and gone.

    ¡°As you know, Only Fourth Platoon has been ordered down to the planet¡¯s surface. That said, all members of our company that want some shore time may join us.¡± The Captain said once all members of Jack¡¯s platoon were present, ¡°Once there, Fourth will follow me into a long and irritating conversation with the Senate where they¡¯ll answer question they don¡¯t want to answer. Long as the rest of you don¡¯t add to or subtract from the local population, I really don¡¯t care what you do.¡±

    ¡°Fourth,¡± she said, focusing on the squad of privates, ¡°I¡¯m going to apologize now. These bastards are going to make you relive and retell everything that happened on that day. They don¡¯t believe Ortiz died the way he did and will be actively trying to piss you off and kill your credibility. To a man, they are aiming to point the blame back on our company, and more specifically, you. Yes, Private West?¡±

    Dave lowered the hand that had slowly crept into the air and stepped forward. ¡°Ma¡¯am, I don¡¯t understand how they could say shit. They weren¡¯t there.¡±

    ¡°Because they are afraid, and if charging you all with a bogus crime allows them to pretend that you are the actual problem, they will do it in a heartbeat. They would rather smudge your name and history than admit another race was stronger than us.¡± She turned and walked to the open cargo door without hesitation. ¡°Don¡¯t be their patsy. Fall out and find a seat.¡±

    Jack watched the city grow larger with each passing moment. As they rode the planetary elevator down, the artistic freedoms given to the architects of the city took him aback. Each building was a masterpiece unto itself, and couldn¡¯t compare to the plain, lifeless skyscrapers on Earth.

    ¡°You never forget your first look at this place,¡± Summers said, relaxing in the seat beside him. ¡°When you¡¯ve only known Earth, seeing the unrestrained beauty of the human mind is¡­ well, beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Unrestrained beauty of the human mind? That¡¯s quite poetic.¡± Jack replied, eyes unmoving from the city below.

    ¡°On Phoenix, you can¡¯t build anything without approval from the local government. If you want to build, you can submit a design to the proper department, and they will verify that it is unique. Once that¡¯s done, they reach out to the Light Architects Guild to find someone skilled enough to make it happen. After that, you provide the cash, and they do the rest.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like Earth. What makes this different?¡±

    ¡°The fact that everything here is built to be different. There is no such thing as ¡®cookie-cutter¡¯ here. If a building stays vacant for six months, they tear it down and sell the space to the next investor.¡±

    ¡°What about housing for the homeless?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°What about them? They¡¯re given every opportunity to help themselves. If they don¡¯t take it¡­ that¡¯s on them.¡± Summers replied, ¡°On Orasinel, everything is fair. Food, clothing, and shelter are all extremely cheap. Not to mention all trade schools are free up there.¡±

    ¡°And job shortages?¡±

    ¡°Non-existent. You can stop at nearly any public kiosk on the ring and find gig work that will pay enough for a few days of food and shelter.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re still forced to live in squalor.¡±

    ¡°No, they¡¯re not. The rooms are comfortable, the clothes are clean, and the food is good. You want more? Get trade certified and move up in the world.¡±

    Jack had to stop and ask himself where the line should be drawn. On Earth, if a person didn¡¯t work, they didn¡¯t eat. The few programs that existed to help the poor hadn¡¯t worked during his lifetime, and he was pretty sure they never had. If a person fell on hard times and had to sleep in the street, you simply walked around them on your way to work.

    But here, every person had easy access to food, water, and shelter, provided they take at least one job from the board. The habitation pods weren¡¯t the most glamourous life, but it beat sleeping in the icy rain on a winter night.

    Eventually the platform finally came to a stop, and the barriers of Light dissipated. Jack found himself in the heart of the most splendid city he could¡¯ve imagined. The individuality of the buildings from above was nothing when compared with the street level. Twisted metal monoliths stood beside wooden structures grown into reality by careful control of a plant¡¯s growth over the course of decades.

    And trees? The people¡ªand by extension the government¡ªhad gone far out of their way not to disturb the natural mega-flora that dotted the streets. It was almost like the ancient redwood forest had been revived and transplanted here from Earth, only for a city to grow around it with no impact.

    ¡°Welcome to Tara. They are waiting for us just down the road,¡± Captain Griffin said, turning to walk down the street.

    She led them down roads that dodged natural landscapes and past sights Jack wouldn¡¯t have believed existed if he wasn¡¯t standing there to see them. At one point, they passed a tree that stood nearly thirty stories tall and made entirely of light blue sapphire. A light pulsed from inside its trunk, throbbing like the heartbeat of the world itself. Their darker leaves appearing to be pulled from a different mine entirely as they tinkled in the wind.

    When he asked about its construction, the First Sergeant smirked and told him it wasn¡¯t manmade. The sapphire tree had existed long before mankind found this place and would still be there long after humankind had returned to dust.

    As they walked, Jack noticed the community gardens spread liberally throughout the city, each heavily laden with food. Through further probing, he discovered that maintaining the gardens was one of the many jobs a person could get from the job board.

    The First Sergeant¡¯s explanation about opportunity was clear now. These people, no matter their background, had every chance to thrive. Between the nearly free housing and the seemingly endless supply of food, there truly was no reason a person would need to be homeless in this city.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°We are about to enter the seat of human government,¡± Captain Griffin said, stopping in front of a row of arches leading into a large spherical building. ¡°I said it earlier, but I¡¯m going to repeat myself just to be certain. Be on your best behavior, answer each question as truthfully as possible, and do not, under any circumstance, agree to anything.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am.¡± they said, nodding their understanding.

    ¡°Good, follow me.¡±

    After nearly ten minutes of twisting corridors and long hallways, they came to a set of double doors with a guard waiting for them. If he focused, Jack could hear dull chatter from a myriad of voices inside. Based on the number of people in attendance, this would either be a shit show, or the most overrated mission debrief in history.

    He was betting on a shit show.

    ¡°416<sup>th</sup> Iron Panthers, Charlie company, step forward.¡± A powerful voice boomed out of the chamber, silencing the chatter.

    Led by their commander, the soldiers stepped into the room and onto the metallic platform at its center. Before they could fully contemplate the agony of standing for the entire hearing, the Blue Light of the Aegis Corps materialized thirteen chairs. Of the group of soldiers, only Summer and Captain Griffin remained standing to address the room.

    ¡°Good morning Ms. Griffin,¡± Senator Bacon said after the doors sealed shut and all other noise faded away, ¡°As I¡¯m sure you know, we called this session today to hear the recounting of a recent mission taken on by your company. Per your account, the mission did not go as smoothly as planned, which resulted in the untimely death of a few soldiers.¡±

    ¡°Few?¡± Alec whispered harshly. ¡°We lost one. And the one that died was a hell of a lot braver than this sack of shit.¡±

    Just before Jack could respond, the Senator¡¯s words cut him short, ¡°That may be, Mr. Morningwood, but this cowardly sack of shit holds your career in his hands. Might I warn you that the platform is microphoned and everything you say can and will be transmitted to all of us?¡±

    Turning red with embarrassment, Alec quietly sank deeper into his chair to hide from further scrutiny.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re so talkative, how about we begin our inquisition with you? Please step forward and answer the questions presented.¡±

    ¡°He will not.¡± Captain Griffin said, her voice carrying through the room without assistance, ¡°I apologize for Private Morningwood¡¯s words, but as his commander, I will be taking the first response to any and all questions.¡±

    Taken aback, he sputtered, ¡°Well then, yes, let¡¯s have it. Ms. Griffin, your men located the package at around 11:00 hours on the morning of the mission but did not send the package until 11:45. Can you explain the missing time? Can you verify the soldiers¡¯ activities during that timeframe and provide a true accounting of the events?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can. As a Captain, it is my job to ensure that the right people get assigned to the right job,¡± She emphasized her rank like she was trying to teach a particularly dense recruit, ¡°As the only active strike team in my company with an Optic, I decided it would be advantageous for them to infiltrate the base. I gave the green light to verify their new and adjusted course. After finding the engine disassembled, Turaspeir acted quickly and decisively to reassemble it quickly. To be certain of its retrieval, I had a pair of tech experts at my side in case of emergency. Fourth Platoon''s soldiers had both mechanical and technical aptitude, so my stand-ins were not needed.¡±

    ¡°Your point? I didn¡¯t ask about their skill level, Ms. Griffin. I asked for an explanation for forty-five minutes of lost time.¡±

    This guy was already pissing Jack off. Any senator worth their salt should be able to tell rank. If a person worked with soldiers every day, it should be something easily picked up. But two years of recognizing rank was more than enough for him to see the level of contempt this Senator held for the AHF.

    ¡°My point, Jim, is that it takes a long time to rebuild a sub-light engine. Even if the tech was explicitly human in design, it would have taken at least two hours to rebuild it. More if not for Private Morningwood embracing his talent. But they adapted to the situation and were able to perform this feat while still under fire.¡±

    ¡°Again, your point?¡±

    ¡°The point is, these soldiers are damned impressive. It¡¯s not easy for experienced soldiers to rebuild alien tech in the field, steal schematics, and open a gate all while under fire. Considering this was Spier¡¯s first solo outing, I¡¯m damned impressed.¡± As if to accentuate her point, the Captain sat down, effectively ending the exchange.

    ¡°I disagree. We trained them to work under pressure. This mission was the definition of pres¡­¡±

    ¡°Put a sock in it, Jim. The odds of these soldiers pulling off a snatch and grab like this were slim to none in the first place. It¡¯s not right to belittle their efforts with your stupidity.¡± Senator Granger said.

    Glaring at his opponent, the senator continued, ¡°That brings me to my next question. Ms. Griffin, I would like Mr. Monroe to answer this one.¡±

    ¡°That depends entirely on what you ask.¡± She replied with visible annoyance.

    In an attempt to keep the peace, Jack connected to his Commander¡¯s HUD and typed out a hurried message, ¡°Ma¡¯am, do not lose your cool. It is neither the time nor the place.¡±

    After reading the brief message, she replaced her annoyance with a mask of resolve. ¡°You¡¯re up. Don¡¯t say anything stupid. And¡­ Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I will be as kind as possible while still being thorough.¡± Senator Bacon said, turning his attention to Jack, ¡°Mr. Monroe, you allegedly lost a member of your squad on this mission. I say that because the story doesn¡¯t line up. To my eyes, it looks like you saw someone causing a problem in your little group, and you decided to fix it.¡±

    Visions of his friend¡¯s death flashed before him. How dare this¡­ waste of space accuse him of killing a friend?

    ¡°Or, in the unlikely event that the local aliens actually killed private Ortiz, you made a bad call and have been trying to cover it up for a month. Why didn¡¯t you go through the gate until after he died? It was open, so why allow one of your people to die before saving the rest?¡±

    ¡°Senator, your accusations are nothing but a vicious jab at the people who lost a friend,¡± Jack said flippantly, catching the stares of hatred pointed at the man. ¡°Get to the point instead of driving another nail through our souls.¡±

    ¡°My point, boy, is that YOU were the squad¡¯s field commander. YOU allowed a so-called friend to die. Doesn¡¯t all of this mean that you are unfit to lead?¡±

    ¡°First,¡± Jack said with a raised finger, patiently waiting for the brief outburst of talking to subside, ¡°I am going to address a few things before we unpack what you¡¯ve been saying today. Mr. Bacon, you staunchly refuse to recognize our ranks in this fabricated inquisition. If you even had the slightest respect for us, you would at least recognize my captain¡¯s rank. You stand claim to stand for us, yet you can only be bothered to help the corporations that support us and line your pockets.¡±

    ¡°Second, until you spend a year on Algol, you have no right to question our devotion to each other. Perhaps there are a few dustups between squads, but we hand-picked our family and would do nothing to hurt it. But, as someone who has clearly never had to sacrifice for the good of another, I will explain it in a way anyone with a baseline education could understand. The soldiers behind me are my family. I would rather die than see one of them fall. Watching Ortiz die on that field was the worst thing I¡¯ve ever experienced in my life. I would appreciate it if you would stop with these claims and allow the report to speak for itself.¡±

    The man was shaking. Jack had overstepped his bounds, but every word was a truth the senator didn¡¯t want to accept. With two simple statements, the young soldier had completely unraveled his attempts to undermine their authority on this matter.

    Jack ground his teeth. This man knew exactly what he was doing, and how ludicrous his claims were. The senator¡¯s eyes kept flicking back to his desk to check notes, giving the appearance of trying to get the facts right before responding.

    He was stupid, or overconfident¡­ or both.

    The moment he opened his mouth, Jack knew the senator was bad news. He¡¯d forged a bond with the man in that instant and had watched as he turned the investigation into a more elaborate farce.

    ¡°All of that said, your timeline is entirely wrong. Four soldiers, including myself, were inside the lab, reconstructing the engine and securing the data. The remaining six were outside in the hallway, fighting off a near-endless wave of opposition. We did not know what the creature was, or what it could do when it appeared, but my men did their best to bring it down. My squad assumed it was like every other alien we¡¯d faced that day and therefore susceptible to our attacks. But you already knew all that, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    The captain swore when she saw what Jack was doing. But at that moment, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

    Jack¡¯s eyes flared with violet Light as he dropped the connection with the senator¡¯s vision. In the same heartbeat, a flash of Indigo from Warren was the only warning before the Senator¡¯s notes were up on the holo-projector for everyone to see.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been trying to discredit us since we walked through the door, and this is the proof.¡± He continued, ¡°But to answer your questions; No, there was no way for us to simply open the gate and retreat. No, we didn¡¯t betray our brother¡¯s trust and kill him. And yes, my failure makes me unfit to lead. But that is the weight of leadership, isn¡¯t it? Having the knowledge that you did everything in your power to save the people counting on you, and you still failed. Senator, you have never had to make decisions that cost the loss of lives of people you know. You get to send us out to die, but don¡¯t understand the cost of surviving a mission when all that comes home is a heavy boot. It hurts, more than I could possibly describe, and you use us like an unlimited supply of chess pieces.¡±

    Jack took his seat and conversation broke out around the room between senators from all parties. Was it wise to speak like he did? No, but the words needed to be said. Was it wise to admit failure? Again, no, but it was important that he admitted his own failings to himself.

    He would never stop fighting for his squad. He would never stop trying to rise.

    ¡°I,¡± Bacon said angrily, casting a wave of quiet across the room, ¡°find it hard to believe that a group of privates on their first mission are telling the truth when our intelligence says the timeline runs differently.¡±

    On the Holo, a new image took the place of Warren¡¯s stolen one, ¡°Mr. Monroe, my intel states the threat was negligible and that your Gate to travel away was always available. You could¡¯ve left, you could¡¯ve saved your teammate. For all your talk of brotherhood, you¡¯re nothing more than a traitor.¡±

    ¡°Fine. If your intel is so capable, how about we launch them down to the surface and make them Gate back to the ship with nothing more than a radio? Better yet, let''s send you as well to get rid of two problems, if your intel is so capable.¡± Jack retorted.

    ¡°You have no right¡­¡±

    ¡°I have every right to defend myself and the actions of my team,¡± Jack shot. ¡°Do you really want to know why we couldn¡¯t leave? That planet has a strange distortion to Light that makes it incredibly difficult for the Gate-room to lock on to a location. In my two years with the AHF, I¡¯ve never seen anything like this. It took a concentrated effort between two soldiers of different corps to create a bond with the ship and find ourselves. All while taking on fire and hoping we didn¡¯t die.¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± the senator roared, banging his desk.

    ¡°No. Not anymore, Senator. You chose to ask me the questions directly against the will and advice of my commander. If you can¡¯t handle the truth, then don¡¯t ask for it.¡± Jack reached into the Light spectrum with his eyes blazing, fully intent on linking every senator in the room and forcing them to watch the battle from his eyes. Before he could, however, First Sergeant Summers placed a hand on his arm and shook his head.

    Slowly, Jack''s eyes returned to their normal color as he pushed the memory of the fight to the back of his mind.

    ¡°Senator Bacon, since you obviously cannot be subjective in this matter, I will take over questioning.¡± A senator the HUD identified as Cliff Bergman said from the opposite side of the room, ¡°Private Monroe, I want to apologize for my colleague. Your answers and recollections are highly valued, and it is important to remember that this is not a criminal trial.¡±

    The senator turned off the holo in an attempt to remove the feelings it invoked before continuing, ¡°We understand the intelligence community is not always accurate when it comes to the¡­ intricacies of battle. That said, if it wasn¡¯t one of the local species that killed Private Ortiz, what was it?¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 69

    ¡°When the Left says people starving in the UHR, it is a lie. Look around, I don¡¯t see anyone on Phoenix starving. These people are nothing but freeloaders, living off of our tax dollars for what? Working in a garden for a few hours? What about you fine people? Are you starving?¡± ¨C From a right-wing political rally after the death of Vadim Agoston.

    ¡°So, you continue to claim that a strange alien species¡ªone that we¡¯ve never encountered before¡ªbrushed off your attacks like they were nothing and killed one of your soldiers,¡± Bergman, a senator for the planet Galileo stated after Jack concluded his hour-long retelling of the battle that killed Ortiz.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And yet you claim to have killed the creature by,¡± he paused, looking down at his notes, ¡°Forcing a ¡®thread¡¯ of Light into it, and pulling the ¡®thread¡¯ back out?¡±

    ¡°That is an oversimplification, but yes. I can¡¯t really explain why it worked, but it did.¡±

    ¡°Officer Albert, care to weigh in?¡±

    A platform Jack hadn¡¯t noticed before floated towards the center of the room, only stopping when it was even with the other. On it sat seven ornate chairs, stylized with the symbol of each corps overhead like the stories of King Arthur and the round table. In the center chair, the symbol of the Optic corps blazed violet and the platform''s lone occupant stood.

    ¡°At this time, we cannot give a fully formed explanation,¡± Albert said. ¡°According to our observations, the creatures have some sort of evolutionary immunity to Light, but that does not answer as many questions as you¡¯d think.¡±

    ¡°Helpful as always,¡± Senator Bacon quipped.

    ¡°For one so quick to demand silence, you do enjoy interrupting others, Senator Bacon.¡± Albert said, chastising the senator before turning back to Jack, ¡°Private Monroe, I believe we¡¯ve focused too much on the mishaps of the mission and not on what really matters. Please explain the feat of heroics that you and yours pulled off.¡±

    In response, the Private just stared in confusion at the Unranked Officer.

    ¡°The rescue mission and subsequent escape,¡± he clarified.

    ¡°Sir, after we secured the package and realized that getting a signal from orbit was nearly impossible, we knew we couldn¡¯t leave a single member of the company behind. We stole a vehicle and charged toward the edge of the compound. Eventually, we came to a gate which Privates Walker and Neilson,¡± he said, motioning for the women to stand, ¡°blew a hole the size of a small starship in by combining their power output. After meeting up with the others, we replicated the process we used in the lab and opened another gate.¡±

    Just before retaking his seat, he said one last thing on the subject, ¡°I didn¡¯t ask my men to give their lives for something as pointless as recognition. We risked our lives because leaving would have doomed our brothers in arms. We did it because someone had to.¡±

    ¡°Well, I smell bullshit, and it is all over this story,¡± Bacon said, leaning back in his chair, ¡°There¡¯s no way a group of Privates can come to that realization AND choose to do something about it without pissing themselves.¡±

    ¡°Senator,¡± Albert hissed sharply, ¡°I¡¯ve heard just about enough out of you. If, by some miracle, you have something constructive to say, then by all means, say it. But if you¡¯re just going to sit there and take potshots at my soldiers, there will be consequences.¡±

    ¡°Oh, be quiet, you toothless hound,¡± Senator Green said, coming to the defense of her party member. ¡°You and yours are nothing but relics of the past. Why would I, or anyone in their right mind, listen to your antiquated interpretation of anything? It seems pretty clear these soldiers are either covering up treachery or they made a deal with the enemy in exchange for survival.¡±

    ¡°Mary Greene,¡± Albert said, voice rising dangerously, ¡°I suggest you withdraw your accusation. I can forgive loyalty to your party, but this is foolish. Do I need to remind you of what blind faith has brought you in the past?¡±

    ¡°No, I was there when your lapdog killed the greatest leader we¡¯ve ever had and threw his body into the street like trash. You can threaten me all you want, but the truth is out there!¡±

    ¡°This is foolish,¡± another senator said, ¡°Mary, if you want to be cut out of every important decision we make in this room, then continue speaking. Otherwise, shut up and let the grown-ups talk.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Captain, I believe we¡¯ve gotten all the information we can glean from your soldiers today.¡± Senator Peters said, ¡°I motion to release them for now, but I request the Captain and First Sergeant stay through deliberation. Any objections?¡±

    After a few moments of silence, she bade the members of Turaspeir a good day and reminded them of the possibility to be recalled, should the need be substantial enough. As the doors to the chamber closed behind them silently, they heard a senator call up the First Sergeant for testimony. Apparently, a detailed account of a mission was not enough. The politicians wanted more.

    ¡°Well, that was a dumpster fire,¡± Dave said when they exited the building.

    ¡°How so?¡± Jack asked. His desire to be away from the circus quickening his pace.

    ¡°Are you kidding? You were the match,¡± Alec chastised. ¡°What happened to ¡®be respectful and only say what was necessary?¡¯¡±

    ¡°They happened. I would have been perfectly respectful if they would have shown any in kind, or are you ok with the fact that we risked our lives for a machine we can¡¯t use?¡±

    ¡°He has a point, Al,¡± Warren said. ¡°It¡¯s incompatible with our tech, and you know it. Practically speaking, all we did was steal the UHR¡¯s biggest paperweight.¡±

    ¡°What I hate are his claims that we¡¯re less trustworthy because of our rank,¡± Thea added, ¡°But, as pissed as it makes me, we shouldn¡¯t be worrying about them until later. We have a limited time on the ground, and I plan to enjoy it.¡±

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Come oonnnnn,¡± Dave moaned. They¡¯d spent the last four hours in and out of various shops that specialized in just about everything. While the items definitely fell into the ¡®cool¡¯ category¡ªlike the upgraded shared-shielding module he¡¯d already clipped to his uniform¡ªit was still shopping. ¡°Guys, I¡¯ve wanted to see one of these games live since the first time I saw a recording.¡±

    ¡°We know.¡± Candice said, ¡°And you haven¡¯t shut up about the sport since. There¡¯s a whole lot of city to explore, and not a whole lot of time. Do you really want to spend that tiny window in an arena full of drunks?¡±

    While wandering the streets, Dave had seen a sign promoting exactly what he was looking for. As a huge fan of Light Ball, he didn¡¯t really care which teams were playing; he was only interested in the fact that there was a game and the seats were cheap.

    ¡°Well¡­ yeah, who doesn¡¯t,¡± he replied, a look of true confusion plastered on his face, ¡°Especially since I plan on getting good and hammered tonight, might as well do it while watching the coolest sport I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    ¡°And why would I want to spend my night watching people pummel each other while also trying to make sure you don¡¯t murder your liver?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s fun,¡± Dave replied in an exasperated tone, ¡°Worst-case scenario, what happens? We have a good time and get a hair closer as friends.¡±

    ¡°Dave,¡± Cecile said flatly, ¡°we¡¯ve spent the last two years together. The first was on a giant, hot ball of hate where the only thing we could do was train and get to know each other. And last year, we spent every waking moment with one another. Hell, we even went shopping together when we could¡¯ve easily gone our separate ways. I¡¯m pretty certain we are about as close as we¡¯re going to get.¡±

    ¡°CC, we are like a family. Families do stuff together, even when it feels dumber than shit.¡±

    ¡°I need some ¡®me¡¯ time once in a while, and you guys watching a game is the perfect excuse to get away,¡± she replied.

    ¡°She won¡¯t be alone¡­ if that makes you feel better. The four of us are going to use this time planet-side and spend it in a real spa. The stuff on the ship barely counts as a hot water bath,¡± Thea clarified.

    ¡°Three,¡± Nessa cut in. ¡°You may not like the game, but I do. As much as you want the time to be girly, I want to spend it with my friends, getting drunk, and watching athletes beat the crap out of each other.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Thea said, slightly taken aback. As much as she wanted to be surprised, she wasn¡¯t. The hard-faced warrior was hardly the type to enjoy any kind of spa treatment, but she¡¯d also never seemed the type to enjoy sports either.

    ¡°I went with the boys back when we first joined up and I thought it was fun. So, I may as well continue the tradition,¡± she replied, pulling up her map interface and plotting a pathway to the arena. ¡°You go without me. Enjoy yourselves, I know I will.¡±

    The three women simply shrugged in response and walked away, each privately thinking the same thing about their red-haired companion. Nessa was showing interest, and it was a good sign when compared to the extreme levels of apathy she normally showed.

    Dave took that as his queue and led the group along the pathway that Nessa¡¯s AI planned. It wasn¡¯t hard to find the stadium¡ªbeing the largest building around made it hard to miss¡ªbut the map was a nice touch. While they walked, he followed his pre-game ritual of grabbing a drink from every bar they passed.

    ¡°How do you do that?¡± Jack gawked.

    ¡°What?¡± Dave asked around a mouthful of food.

    ¡°That, eat mystery meat from a cart and drink like you¡¯re on death row.¡±

    ¡°If it walks and fits on the grill, I eat it. Usually with a beer or two.¡±

    ¡°That answers¡­ nothing,¡± Jack shook his head, imagining the large man cooking any number of strange meats.

    The arena was much different from the one they¡¯d visited on the Alexander. It spanned almost six city blocks and was covered in a black dome with flecks of white. Clearly, the artist that designed this building had been trying to give the patrons the illusion of being in space.

    Instead of visiting a ticket counter, the owners had placed sensors inside the many entrances. When a person walked through, a notification gave the cost of the ticket, and automatically deducted the funds from their account. The transaction was so quick and seamless that if he hadn¡¯t already experienced the feature earlier that day while shopping, he wouldn¡¯t have noticed at all.

    ¡°Where are we sitting?¡± Jack asked as they pushed through the crowd.

    ¡°Very top, we can¡¯t afford anything better on our salary,¡± Dave said cheerily, much too happy at the idea of being broke, ¡°You guys go on ahead, I¡¯m going to grab us some necessary items before it starts.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 70

    ¡°What if I told you the UHR has been lying to us? What if I told you we are losing the war? Those of us willing to question the rhetoric already know that Earth has fallen. The signs are there, why won¡¯t you listen?¡± ¨C from The Truth is Out There, 5k likes, 200 comments, 3 shares.

    As they ascended the stairs to their assigned seating, the familiar sensation of gate travel washed over them. While only a brief feeling, Alec verified Jack¡¯s suspicions when he started dry heaving. Apparently, they¡¯d passed through a gate and arrived at the actual location of the match.

    Why use such a large arena when the game didn¡¯t even take place on the planet itself? Was it just an overly grandiose gesture to show the general population just how much wealthier the owners were? Or was Jack simply too cynical?

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him,¡± Warren grumbled after climbing for nearly thirty minutes. ¡°We could¡¯ve all gotten a better view with a HUD simulation, but no, cowboy here wants a real experience. Did he even look at the ticket before deciding that we needed to climb a fucking mountain to get to our seats?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie,¡± Nessa said, sliding down the top row to her seat. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you watching these games at night when you think we aren¡¯t paying attention. I know, for a fact, that you very much enjoy them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I enjoy watching the men,¡± he replied flatly. ¡°big, burly, sweaty men. Other than that, useless, the damned whole sport.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that,¡± Dave said, catching up holding a tray loaded with snacks and alcoholic beverages. ¡°You like it because it¡¯s brutal, and you secretly love watching the brutality.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡­¡±

    ¡°Stop before you go too far. I don¡¯t need you to tell me why you like it. You like watching the gritty violence just like everyone else.¡± Dave smiled.

    Through the noise of the crowd, a rolling bass drum grew louder and louder before ending with a crash. In its absence, a silence seemed to stretch across the arena far longer than it had any right to.

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen,¡± the announcer called, ¡°Tonight, you have the honor of watching the most anticipated match of the season. You will cry, you will shout, you may even curse my name, but most importantly; you will be entertained!¡±

    The crowd roared in response.

    ¡°With no further delay, I give you¡­ the Phoenix Immortals!¡±

    Half of the field burst into light as a door dropped open and thirteen players rocketed out at full speed. As they flew to their starting positions, number thirteen hooked a floating rock with a crimson scythe and sent himself on a crash course for the dome¡¯s atmospheric barrier. At the last second, a strand of yellow Light streaked across the field, latched on to his ankle, and whipped him around in a wide arc that left him standing on yet another rock in the center of the arena.

    ¡°This team has stood on top for the past five seasons,¡± the announcer said, pumping up the excitement. ¡°They¡¯ve fought tooth and nail for that position and held it against all odds. People have accused them of breaking every rule in the book, but nobody can prove it! Yes, you know who I¡¯m talking about. I give you the reigning champions, the Khepri Golems!¡±

    As before, the other half of the field burst into view as another thirteen players shot out of the gate at a speed that outmatched the Phoenix¡¯s. Unlike their competitors, the Golems didn¡¯t put on a show. Instead, they flew straight to their positions and floated at the ready.

    ¡°As per usual, the Golems show about as much emotion and flair as their namesake. But you don¡¯t watch this team for flair, you watch them for perfection,¡± the announcer continued. ¡°Well folks, if you¡¯re here, you probably have a good grasp on the rules. As always, they can inflict no permanent injury on a rival, or the offending team will suffer a free shot and the player responsible will be benched.¡±

    Th host moved down to the field and placed the multicolored ball in the starting position.

    ¡°Three¡­ Two¡­ One¡­ Go!¡±

    The center mid of both teams shot forward intending to take possession of the ball. Fingers outstretched; the Immortal slammed into a blue, hexagonal shield that materialized in front of him. A heartbeat later, the shield expanded and wrapped itself around the player, locking him inside.

    ¡°Oldie, but goodie from the Golems. Trapping the center mid is one of their signatures. If poor Crio would¡¯ve done his homework, he would never have tried that. I hope the Immortals aren¡¯t going to play this badly all night. They need to straighten up or this is going to turn into a¡­ oh god, that¡¯s embarrassing.¡±

    The Golem¡¯s center mid scooped up the ball and kicked off from the blue prison, simultaneously taunting the Immortal and generating enough force to pass the ball to a nearby winger.

    Jack tensed when he saw the ball arcing just a hair too wide, only to relax again when a red net caught it and pulled it back to the winger. Without missing a beat, the Golem created a series of disks beneath his feet, building a small but stable pathway to run across.

    Before he could go far, a spider drone hiding under a nearby piece of rock intercepted him. In a flash, it jumped onto his back, restraining the Golem and robbing him of all mobility. The Phoenix wingback responsible for the maneuver swung out from his hiding place, seized the ball, and immediately passed it to the formerly bound center mid.

    Near the middle of the field, a Dragoon wearing the red Immortals uniform caught the ball, turned, and propelled himself forward with the repulsors built into his suit.

    ¡°What a counter! First time in a while I¡¯ve seen a Golem get ambushed so soundly. If they weren¡¯t immortal before, they are now.¡±

    The Aegis that imprisoned him earlier moved in for a repeat performance, hands glowing with power.

    Refusing to be caught again, the Dragoon raised his free arm and fired. A net of orange Light flew from the mounted weapon, intercepting the Aegis and allowing the Immortal to pass the ball once again.

    ¡°Looks like Crio doesn¡¯t want to be the only one tied up in this game. Hopefully, he bought his team some time, but ¡­ what¡¯s this?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Karim, an Immortal Winger, caught the pass with his left hand and threw out a line with his right. Anchoring himself to a nearby asteroid, and using it as a counterweight to control his maneuver. At the peak of the arc, he passed the ball to the Striker.

    Ball in hand, the Striker¡ªRomelu¡ªformed a cannon of red Light around it as he flew across the field at high speed. With timing that only comes from countless hours of practice, he fired with accuracy so incredibly precise it would have made Cecile proud.

    Not to be outdone, the goalie blocked the shot with a well-timed barrier. Unlike his teammate, though, he was not fast enough to wrap it in energy and pass it before a second Winger scooped it up, slipped behind him, and deposited it into the goal.

    ¡°GOAL! Immortals one, Golems zero. Let me tell you something folks, what you just saw was a play for the history books. Using that striker as a distraction while getting the second winger in position¡­ genius.¡±

    ¡°You know Dave,¡± Jack said, taking a deep pull from his drink while the teams reset, ¡°Seeing this sport after spending a few years with these abilities makes me realize just how little we know our own power.¡±

    ¡°You ain¡¯t the only one,¡± he replied. ¡°Imagine trying to use that capture in a real fight. Unless you and the enemy are one-on-one, giving up a shield like that is likely to leave someone dead.¡±

    Nessa cut in, ¡°but think about the big picture; each team is not only using their players and powers in creative ways, they are also combining their skills to create something altogether new.¡±

    While they talked, Jack watched the two teams do exactly what Nessa described. It was clear that each player spent hours upon hours drilling with one another. In doing so, they not only learned their own limits, but the limits of their teammates as well.

    Once the Golems finally recognized the other team as a genuine threat, it was obvious just how outmatched the Immortals really were. They impressed Jack even more when the stoic team juggled the ball between four players with ease after stepping up their focus.

    ¡°If I was a betting man, which I am, I would say the Golems were about to even the match. If the Immortals don¡¯t wake up soon, the match will be over before it gets interesting,¡± the announcer said, ¡°Because if I know anything about Antoine, it¡¯s that he never misses a shot.¡±

    Antoine¡¯s eyes flashed through his visor the instant the ball was in his hand. The violet Light clearly giving away his identity as an optic.

    Jack perked up at the sight and connected to the striker to see how he pulled this off.

    Antoine faked left just before dashing right, weaving through a small minefield of rocks before cocking back his arm and hurling the ball through the Phoenix¡¯s goal with unnatural ease.

    ¡°Did you see that?¡± Dave shouted, violently shaking Jack¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Man, that was one hell of a shot.¡±

    ¡°Especially since the Immortals goalie is also an optic,¡± Jack said excitedly. ¡°Antoine was cycling through viewpoints so quickly, the goalie couldn¡¯t figure out which was really him.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense,¡± Alec replied. ¡°Not giving the goalie a place to look takes away the advantage he thought he had.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Jack answered.

    Below, the teams started another play, and the game was getting interesting. This time, the Immortals reclaimed the ball a heartbeat before the Golems scored another point. Like a well-oiled machine, both Wingers worked their way down the field, passing the ball between each other when an enemy got too close.

    In middle field, a Golem flew in to intercept a pass and reclaim the ball for his team. Unfortunately, his tactic of catching a player inside of a shield was replicated and turned against him. But the Immortal was just a hair too slow, accidentally catching both ball and player in the ball.

    Luckily, that problem was easy enough to deal with.

    A line of yellow snaked out, grabbing the ball and effectively turning the pair into a giant mace. The Immortal binder twisted his body and launched it across the field and into the waiting hands of the striker, Romelu.

    As if he¡¯d done it a thousand times, Romelu shaped his crimson Light into a bat and swung with every ounce of strength he had. The ball shot towards the goal with the same level of accuracy he¡¯d displayed before.

    ¡°If the Immortals keep surprising me like this, I may just need to buy a season pass,¡± the announcer yelled. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, this team has only been in the big leagues for a year. Before that, they were all members of the AHF and served together in the 5<sup>th</sup> Forward Artillery. If this is what our veterans can do, I¡¯m honestly surprised that we haven¡¯t conquered the universe.¡±

    Between the fast pace of the game and high energy from the announcer, Jack found himself truly having fun. It wasn¡¯t often that he¡ªor any of them¡ªreally relaxed, but this was certainly one of those times. Even in the inquisition¡¯s wake, moments like this made him truly hopeful for the future.

    ¡°Ortiz would have loved this,¡± he murmured, ¡°he would be up here screaming his head off.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and that¡¯s why I intend to bring him back here,¡± Dave said. ¡°Not sure if he can still drink, but he will be right here with us again. It¡¯s been a month, man; they¡¯ve probably already built the body and are just training him to use it. And before you spout that crap about if he comes back, just know that I¡¯ve got an empty bottle and don¡¯t mind hitting you with it.¡±

    ¡°Shit Dave, why don¡¯t you come down a little harder on the guy?¡± Alec quipped sarcastically.

    ¡°He knows just as well as I do that it wasn¡¯t our fault. Sure, you can get blue about it once in a while, but if it hurts us on a future mission, that¡¯s a problem.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Jack breathed. Somehow, the straightforward nature of Dave¡¯s speech was exactly what he needed. Right here, in the middle of a stadium, watching a game with his closest friends, was not the time to lament. In fact, if he was honest with himself, there was no need for lamentation. Moving forward was the only right answer.

    ¡°With only three minutes left on the clock, I have to wonder if the Golems can come back and take the win?¡± The announcer asked after the Immortals had evened the score yet again. ¡°If they don¡¯t break this tie, we will go into sudden-death overtime.¡±

    The teams lined up for one last push at the ball. The usually stoic Golems wore looks of worry and outright hostility. If nothing else, the Immortals had successfully broken their iron mask of indifference and had proven they could be beaten.

    ¡°For the first time in two years, it looks like the Golems are going to lose this match,¡± he continued when the game resumed, ¡°and the Immortals have done it by simply being better than their rival.¡±

    The whistle blew, and a Golem rushed in at full speed, trying to block an Immortal dragoon. Before his fingers could close around the coveted ball, a line of glowing yellow wrapped around the ball and whipped it around the barrier to Crio of the Immortals.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost like they flipped a switch,¡± the announcer continued. ¡°Odsonne is not as quick with those shields and is falling behind because of it. At the same time, Crio is thinking three steps in advance and is very close to securing the game. I can¡¯t remember the last time I saw a match like this one!¡±

    The mystery of the slow midfielder was resolved when an asteroid floated away to reveal a figure in a red uniform, glowing brightly with the indigo Light of the Possession Corps. The player stood with his hands outstretched and took command of the Golem¡¯s armor, actively slowing his ability to react.

    Crio handed off the ball to another Immortal that flew in close. That player wasted no time crafting a sling out of his crimson energy and launching it to a winger further down the field.

    Turning to intercept, the winger sent out a line of power. With surgical precision, the Immortal grabbed the ball and swung it to an incoming striker.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been commentating matches for almost twenty years, and I¡¯ve never seen a team play like this,¡± the announcer shouted, the camera showing him with his face pressed to the glass of his observation box, ¡°Most teams keep their binders in the back and use them defensively, but the Immortals have taken that entire trope and turned it on its head. After today, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised to see teams trying to copy this method.¡±

    As ball and striker met, the Immortal Possessor released his hold on Odsonne and took control of the goalie¡¯s armor with hardly a second to spare.

    Romelu grabbed the ball and ran, crafting small disks of energy under his feet again as he moved. Behind him, a single Golem closed in, but was ultimately stopped by yet another glowing wall of force. Spinning mid-flight to dodge the slowed goalie, the striker shot through the goal to secure the victory.

    ¡°And there you have it!¡± The announcer yelled, trying¡ªineffectively¡ªto make himself heard over the crowd, ¡°The Phoenix Immortals have won this match and broken a nearly two-year winning streak for the Golems!¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 71

    ¡°You want noodles? Then you need Lao Chang¡¯s! They have a menu as large as the cosmos. You can¡¯t get any more authentic than Chef Chang. Traditionally taught by his grandmother, his flavors are outstanding! Try the pork knuckle, you won¡¯t be disappointed!¡± ¨C restaurant review on Phoenix Prime.

    The two halves of Spier squad regrouped late that night at a bar offering a hefty discount to soldiers on leave. Never one to pass up cheap booze, Dave ensured nobody could leave without being dragged through a long and tedious guilt trip.

    ¡°Come on Candice,¡± Dave whined to the girl through his Vis-HUD, ¡°We only have a few nights, and by few, I mean two. Are you really going to bail on us for some stuffy hotel?¡±

    His face dropped into despair as she spoke before eventually morphing into understanding and finally to extreme interest. While Jack was more than capable of connecting a thread to listen to the conversation, he was reasonably certain it was none of his business.

    ¡°Alright girl, go get you some. If you can still walk in a few hours, come buy me a beer and tell me all about it.¡± If the words themselves didn¡¯t give away her plans, the wide grin on Dave¡¯s face most certainly did. ¡°Hey guys, uh¡­ Candice had to make an emergency trip to the uh¡­ toilet. She probably won¡¯t be back tonight.¡±

    ¡°Hey bonehead, we literally just heard you tell her to go get some. Do you really think we¡¯re that stupid?¡± Alec asked.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re not, but you been around me long enough to know my lingo. These guys have only been part of my entourage for two years. They might not be capable of keeping up with my subtle conversational skills.¡± Although the man has lost none of his physical faculties, yet, everyone realized Dave was well past toasted and well on the way to blasted.

    ¡°Hate to burst your bubble, but if you thought that was subtle¡­ you may be just past your limit,¡± Cecile smirked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t blaspheme against the drinking gods here. When there are drinks to be had, bad choices must follow,¡± he said with a finger raised.

    After finding a nearby booth to claim as their base of operations, Dave and Alec wandered off to mingle with the bar¡¯s patrons. The two men had been friends longer than most and knew how to play off one another¡¯s energy. If Jack had to put money on it, he would bet they would take over the stage in a matter of minutes.

    ¡°Well, now that copycat Randy Houser and his best buddy are gone,¡± Jack said, setting his glass on the table, ¡°I think I¡¯ve got some good ideas for training the squad.¡±

    ¡°Go on,¡± Cecile said after the silence dragged on.

    ¡°They used their powers together,¡± he replied vaguely.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°The people, the teams we were watching tonight.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s nice. We do too,¡± Thea said.

    ¡°No, no, no. I mean really together. We work together like part of a military unit, only extending ourselves far as needed to accomplish the next task. They worked in concert to create completely hybrid strategies.¡±

    ¡°Hey Jack,¡± Nessa said, returning from the bar with a round of drinks, ¡°Not that I don¡¯t enjoy imagining new and interesting ways to rip my enemies limb from limb, but do you really think this is the best time to be talking about it? This is our first true day off in nearly two years. If I can find a way not to think about the AHF, that¡¯s what I want to do.¡±

    ¡°But, I-¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Thea interjected, cutting him off before he could reply. ¡°Tonight is about relaxation. Soon, we will be back on the Washington and in soldier mode. You can tell us all about it then, but tonight¡­ I want whatever passes for Chinese on Phoenix Prime.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ You¡¯re not even staying with us? Who is going to control those two?¡± Cecile asked, pointing at the men who were indeed singing on the stage.

    ¡°Hell no, you think I¡¯m going to hang out in a bar¡ªthe same thing we do on the ship, by the way¡ªon the first night Jack and I are on a planet and not being shot at?¡± Thea joked, pointing at the sky, ¡°No, he and I are going to get some real food, the kind we just can¡¯t get up there. Then¡­ who knows, we may even come back here.¡±

    ¡°We are?¡± Jack asked, mouth twisted into a grin.

    ¡°Yes, we are¡­ well, probably not. Either way, slam that drink and let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    Not needing to be told twice, Jack downed the beer and stood. Nodding goodnight to his friends, he and Thea walked out and into the crisp night air of the utopian city.

    ¡°So, Chinese food?¡± Jack asked, strolling down the street with her arm locked in his, the gentle tinkling of the sapphire tree providing a strange harmony to their conversation. ¡°Any particular reason?¡±

    ¡°No, I just needed an excuse to keep you all to myself. I wasn¡¯t kidding about spending time with you,¡± she said, stopping to stare at the majestic city. ¡°I mean, we only have a few days of fresh air before we go back to our tin can.¡±

    ¡°True.¡± Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the sky in wonder. ¡°I can¡¯t believe how clear it is. It¡¯s not the same as the vacuum of space, but it is a hell of a lot better than Earth. It¡¯s just so beautiful.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I wonder¡­ so much about this world. It¡¯s just so¡­ alien. How can we see so clearly despite these lights?¡±

    ¡°Best guess? Lack of elevated pollution levels.¡± As much as Jack loved marveling at what mankind built in this wonderful city, it didn¡¯t stop him from feeling a pang of sadness for Earth. If the people, government, or even companies would¡¯ve put in a tenth of the effort they did here, their ancestral home could once again become a haven for their people, ¡°Why¡­ why couldn¡¯t they do this back home?¡±

    ¡°Take your pick,¡± she said, storm blue eyes staring through the crystalline branches of the tree and into the stars beyond. ¡°There is too much money to be made in pollution? The planet is nothing but a body farm for the military? Any number of things, really. What I don¡¯t understand is your love for a place that was essentially a prison.¡±

    The couple resumed their directionless walk toward a river that sliced through the city. With nothing but whimsy to guide them, the couple simply took joy in wandering aimlessly without needing to worry about their friends.

    ¡°I don¡¯t necessarily love the planet, just a few people on it,¡± he replied slowly. ¡°More specifically, my family. If I could get them away from that barren wreck, I highly doubt you¡¯d ever hear another word from me about it.¡±

    In the distance, a snow-capped mountain range brought feelings of majesty and longing. The wild, untamed hills called to their souls in a primal way. It was a landscape utterly unexplored; they instantly knew it was exactly what they were looking for.

    ¡°We could stay¡­¡± Thea said, unwavering gaze giving life to unspoken words, ¡°We could stay and wander this planet together. Never again being forced to kill a sentient creature simply for the crime of existing.¡±

    ¡°We could, but we gave our word.¡± Jack replied with an unnecessary finality in his tone, ¡°We swore to protect places like this so that one day we can return and know that we are protected.¡±

    Much as he wanted to disappear into the wilderness with her, Jack knew doing so would abandon the people he¡¯d come to call family. They knew what they¡¯d signed up for, and they both knew what it cost.

    But it didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t find peace at the end of this journey.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Thea said after a few moments, conviction on her smiling face, ¡°Not to mention the fact that our friends would hunt us down and kill us slowly with guilt.¡±

    ¡°Nessa would, for sure. But it would be a knife, not guilt,¡± he replied with a chuckle, ¡°But enough of all that, do you have any suggestions for this Chinese food you wanted?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, ¡°I spent that entire inquisition looking up places to eat. If I remember right, I think one of them is just a block or two away.¡±

    ~~**~~

    The couple stepped onto an elevator in the lobby of a hotel that was far out of their price range. Fortunately, being stuck on an all-expenses-paid, two-year cruise through space had the benefit of creating quite the savings account.

    When Thea saw the building, she tried to convince Jack to give up the room and return to the ship for the night. However, he eventually won her over by reminding her how rare these nights on solid ground were.

    ¡°Tell me, tall, dark, and glowing, how did you manage to get us a room?¡± she asked as a nearly opaque blue barrier sprang to life around them and the elevator started rising, its slower-than-normal pace revealing yet another glimpse of the incredible city.

    ¡°Easy. I cheated,¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°I booked the room the moment they announced our destination. In fact, there is one reserved for each member of the squad if they want it.¡±

    ¡°And what made you think I wanted to share a room with you?¡±

    Jack let out a bark of laughter. ¡°Maybe the fact that we share a cabin on this ship? Specifically, the bunk we share in that cabin? Or maybe, just maybe, it¡¯s because I am wildly in love with you.¡±

    The platform came to a stop, and the barrier faded into nothingness. Like any other hotel, the hallway was lined with dozens of doors, each leading to a temporary home for the weary to rest their head.

    The two lovers walked hand in hand, counting off doors until they eventually found the one leading into their temporary home. Through the door, they were astonished to see what they could only describe as the most luxurious apartment either had ever imagined.

    ¡°Even the hotels here are nicer than my house on Earth,¡± she said, dashing through the doorway like a kid in a candy store and throwing herself onto the bed, ¡°If my family could¡¯ve afforded something like this, I would¡¯ve never joined the AHF.¡±

    She¡¯d only joined because her life was directionless. She never had the opportunity to attend college and fail, like Jack. Even with the scholarships she clearly deserved, she would¡¯ve needed to hold a full-time job just to pay the tuition.

    But she never held it against anyone. The idea of pulling yourself up and paving your own way was a mantra for her, and not one she held lightly.

    ¡°The room is nothing without the company,¡± Jack said, as he stepped inside, locking the door behind him.

    She was still in bed, staring out at something Jack couldn¡¯t see.

    Jack jumped into the bed to join her, but only found an enormous pile of pillows and blankets scattered across the softest mattress he¡¯d ever felt. His target had cleanly rolled off the bed and was now staring out of what someone could only loosely describe as a window.

    The outer wall was made of a single piece of glass that allowed for an unbroken view of the city below. Light from the many stores and streetlamps proved it was yet another city that never slept.

    ¡°It really is something, isn¡¯t it?¡± She said, relaxing against his shoulder when she sensed his presence behind her.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied pensively, ¡°This is what we fight for, isn¡¯t it? The idea that we must defend this place?¡±

    ¡°This and every other world home to human life,¡± she leaned her head back, nestling into his neck, ¡°This city, this world, it¡¯s only a small representation of the beauty mankind can achieve through something as basic as freedom to live your life as you see fit.¡±

    ¡°What about non-human life? Is it only ours that matters?¡± It was a question he needed the answer to, but he was always too afraid to ask in the presence of other soldiers.

    ¡°No¡­ but it¡¯s the only life you and I understand,¡± she replied, ¡°and even if we could understand the others, who is to say they could do the same? As much as I would love to see peace in this universe, we have to continue fighting¡­ and praying that we aren¡¯t explicitly wrong for doing it.¡±

    ¡°In hardship,¡± he said, starting the phrase that was so deeply ingrained in who he was.

    ¡°We rise.¡± She finished.

    They stood there, holding each other for what seemed like ages. The passage of time slowed for the lovers, almost as if that moment could last a lifetime. Eventually, she spun, dancing out of his arms and across the floor. ¡°That said, if we are going to rise tomorrow when they call us, we might want to consider getting a little sleep.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really now?¡± he said with a wry smile.

    ¡°Yeah, but first I need to wash up and get the rest of this spa treatment off my skin. I couldn¡¯t get it off with the towel and it has a strong smell, so I need to scrub.¡± she replied, walking slowly toward the bathroom, unbuttoning her uniform jacket, ¡°That and the fact that we have no water limitation makes this shower irresistible.¡±

    Jack simply smiled at the thought and continued to stare out into the city. Behind him, a soft thump of cloth hitting the floor was enough to make him turn and take in the beautiful sight of his best friend.

    ¡°Are you coming, or do I have to wash my back all by myself?¡±

    The words were hardly out of her mouth before Jack bolted across the room and joined her in a similar state of dress. After two years of no true privacy, it was more than time for the couple to enjoy a truly unforgettable night.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 72 (Interlude)

    ¡°It¡¯s always hard to gauge the conditions on a world as backwater as Earth, but recruitment numbers are often the best tool. From what we¡¯ve gathered here at Unified News, most of our new soldiers are not coming from Earth, but from small worlds with high immigration numbers. We know they¡¯re covering something up, but investigative journalists say there is little to find.¡± ¨C From Unified News, The place for UHR news and updates.

    Metallic footsteps echoed down the hall as Benjamin Hargrave made his way along the familiar pathways of the research facility. Unlike other locations, this one was special in that it belonged only to the Unranked Officers.

    Of all the things his position afforded him, this was by far his favorite. The planetoid they¡¯d found and terraformed so long ago was more than just a rock, more than a place to disappear from the insanity that was the UHR.

    It was home.

    He¡¯d always hated politics, and he planned to hold on to that position as long as he lived. It didn¡¯t matter what type of government was in power. Any time a faction put its own needs above those of the people it served always left a sour taste in his mouth.

    When he was in control, he never allowed such foolishness. Yes, he only held the throne of the human Empire for a few short years, but during that time, political corruption was at an all-time low. For perhaps the first time since the Aztec Empire, mankind had a ruling body that only wanted growth and prosperity.

    Sadly, it didn¡¯t take long for the schemes of wicked men to return after the seven gave up their thrones in favor of democracy.

    Ahead, the hallway ended in a vault that he believed was more secure than anything ever before built by a sentient race. If it wasn¡¯t, then he¡¯d spent an incredible amount of time on what was basically a very well-guarded closet. Since the door looked intact and no sensors were tripped, he was reasonably certain testing its limits could wait for another day.

    ¡°Benjamin Hargrave,¡± he said as he approached.

    Voice verification complete, the first door swung open with the barest whisper. Once inside, it closed itself and reengaged the first round of locks.

    In the center of the room, a pedestal with multiple scanners rose from the ground. The first was a handprint, basic security on a good day. In most cases, it was little more than a distraction. Second, the system conducted a full scan of his eyes. Being more machine than man, it was yet another pointless lock. If someone managed to kill him and retrieve his hands, they were most certainly capable of taking his eyes as well.

    The last test was the only one he was certain couldn¡¯t be replicated easily. At the top of the pedestal, a small, glass Light Battery sat empty. He wrapped his hand around the cylinder and poured a constant stream of undiluted crimson energy into the container. If anyone other than one of the seven tried this, human or otherwise, it would kill them on the spot.

    To fill it properly, two tests needed to be passed. First, the incoming power had to fill the entire frequency range of the Corps associated with the person in the room. Next, they analyzed the purity and compression of the Light to identify any discrepancies. Once those two very simple tasks were completed, the locks would disengage and allow a person entrance.

    Unfortunately for anyone trying to intrude, those two feats were only possible if the person had taken a full dose of undiluted Serum. Since there were only seven such beings, it was easy to agree this was by far the most unbreachable vault in all of mankind¡¯s empire.

    The sound of heavy locks echoed through the chamber just before the second door swung open. Inside, an observation room looked down on a prisoner that represented what was possibly the most threatening species in the universe.

    ¡°How is it?¡± Benjamin asked, walking up to the current jailer on duty. Behind him, the locks re-engaged, and the room became perfectly sealed once more.

    ¡°Depends,¡± Frederick Barca said, eyes never moving from his charge.

    ¡°On?¡±

    ¡°On what you want to hear. Is the creature in obvious pain from being bathed in Light constantly for the past six months? Yes. Has it screamed of our deaths several hundred times since being locked in here? No doubt. But if you¡¯re asking if it finally cracked? No, not at all.¡±

    After Benjamin and Tobias captured what they believed to be an enemy officer, they¡¯d promptly imprisoned it here, containing it in one of Tobias¡¯s drones until they completed the construction of a cage specifically to hold a being that couldn¡¯t interact with Light.

    That such intense exposure to Light actually burned the creature was nothing more than a happy accident.

    Inside the chamber, every surface shone with crafted Light. Layers and layers of Frederick¡¯s barriers shaped the walls in patterns that only he understood. Not to be outdone, all objects and furniture inside glowed with Benjamin¡¯s crimson power.

    Almost as impressive as the research station above, this chamber was a very clear representation of what the Unranked Officers could accomplish as a unit. But then again, wasn¡¯t the Serum itself enough proof of that?

    ¡°Restrain it,¡± Hargrave muttered, mentally pushing his weak alter ego out of the way.

    ¡°Going to give it another go?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but this time¡­ it will break.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Frederick tapped out of a series of passwords on a virtual keyboard projected by his HUD. Inside the cell, ropes of yellow Light whipped out from under the bed, reaching for the imprisoned creature. It tried to fight them off, but even splitting into a mass of writhing tentacles did nothing to help it avoid the cords of power. Like a fish caught on a line, they yanked the creature back to the bed and thoroughly bound it there.

    Nodding to his colleague, Hargrave walked into another mantrap and let the doors close behind him. Much like before, this room required multiple levels of verification before the last door would open.

    ¡°Fred, my side is complete.¡±

    Above, Frederick entered yet another series of commands, removing the last barrier needed for entry. Ben entered the room, worried the soulless monster controlling his body would go too far.

    It always did.

    ¡°Creature, let¡¯s get started with something easy,¡± Hargrave said, mechanical eyes burning with intensity as he approached the eldritch mass of limbs. ¡°Can you understand me? A simple nod would suffice, although I would prefer it if you would respond in kind.¡±

    The lump that most often represented the creature¡¯s head shifted slightly before shaping itself into a mockery of Benjamin¡¯s face. It tried this scare tactic every time he attempted to communicate with it, but Hargrave was long past the fear of his own face. He wouldn¡¯t allow the creature to force him to leave. The interrogation would happen, and they would finally have answers.

    ¡°F-f-f-ooooooood,¡± it hissed through a too-wide mouth.

    Hargrave smiled. It seemed the creature did, in fact, remember him. After all, wouldn¡¯t it be hard to forget the someone that peeled the skin from over a quarter of your body?

    ¡°Dear friend, I know you¡¯re hungry, but it seems I¡¯ve misplaced the meal I was bringing. But if you play your cards right, I may be able to locate something to eat.¡±

    The creature growled in frustration. It had made a mistake, given away a secret; it could understand.

    ¡°I want you to appreciate something. I¡¯m sure it is very hard to track the passage of time here, especially considering the lack of anything significant to mark its. It¡¯s been months. Do you know what those are? Almost a year according to the human calendar, if I¡¯m being honest.¡± He leaned closer, allowing the creature to see the madness in his eyes, ¡°In that time, I¡¯ve hurt you, starved you, taken away anything that would exercise your mind enough to stave off madness. In return, you¡¯ve pretended not to understand me. Don¡¯t you see how this tiny revelation is a massive boon to our relationship?¡±

    It was impossible to truly understand the creature¡¯s emotions, but to Frederick, it looked like undiluted fear.

    ¡°Good, I see you understand,¡± the monster in Benjamin¡¯s body said. ¡°Now that I know you can understand me, what is your name?¡±

    The creature sat in silence, unwilling to give its captor anything else. However, after nearly two minutes of waiting, Hargrave¡¯s impatience brought a terrifying crimson energy to his hand. It knew that Light; it was the predecessor to the pain it felt while imprisoned here.

    The Light solidified into a barber¡¯s razor. Its single edge pressed against the creature¡¯s skin, burning its flesh from contact alone.

    ¡°Sacrament,¡± it croaked. The words not forming properly in its mouth. The voice¡ªif it could even be called that¡ªhad a distinct dryness to it. Almost like words made from papers being rubbed together. Whether it was a product of the torture, or its normal voice, was yet to be determined.

    ¡°Sacrament? That sounds¡­ religious? Right¡­ now that I have a name, care to tell me what you are?¡±

    ¡°We are the Cleansing Horde. We are the force sent to wipe away the stain that is Light and free the cosmos from those who wield it. We serve Perpetual Night; God of the space between stars!¡± With more effort than Hargrave had ever seen from Sacrament, he tore at his bindings, trying to free himself, ¡°Those who are not of The People have only one use: to serve and sustain the horde. But you, my metallic jailer, cannot serve. Your kind is a scourge, built by the ones of the stars as a curse upon the universe. You are an abomination!¡±

    Outwardly, Hargrave smiled wickedly to show just how much the creature revealed. But inside, Benjamin had taken control of their shared mind and was actively recording and compiling data at breakneck speeds. Every twitch, every inflection, even the smallest reference might let him dig deeper to find the answers to the rest of his questions.

    ¡°A scourge? Why? Because we learned how to live and fight another day?¡±

    ¡°Your soul did not live on, Beast. You are just too stupid to see it. You¡¯ve joined the ranks of the machines and are thus damned. You are even worse than those who worship the cursed Light.¡±

    ¡°Let me get this straight. You and yours search the entire universe for intelligent life, preferably the kind that lives on planets that orbit a star, and you kill them? No wait, you said we were to serve and sustain¡­ So not only do you murder the planet¡¯s defenders, but you enslave a portion and breed them for food? What¡¯s the next part? Do you destroy the star as some symbolic cleansing ritual? Does that make them pure?¡±

    Sacrament fell silent, refusing to answer anything further. It would be nice if the creature continued expanding Benjamin¡¯s understanding of this holy war, but this was far more information than he expected.

    This time, the creature did not flinch when the razor materialized in Hargrave¡¯s hand, nor did it scream when the madman cut off yet another appendage with careless ease.

    ¡°Frederick,¡± Hargrave called after ten minutes of merciless mutilation, ¡°I don¡¯t think our friend wants the feast we promised. In fact, I¡¯m pretty certain it only wants enough to stay alive.¡±

    Dismissing the blade, the Unranked Officer strode through the first door of the mantrap. Part of him¡ªan incredibly bloodthirsty part¡ªwanted to walk back into the room and finish the job. Thankfully, that uncontrollable monster had stepped back and allowed Benjamin to reclaim the body. They both understood that killing Sacrament would mean losing the knowledge it potentially had.

    Keeping it alive was much more useful.

    And fun, Hargrave said in his mind.

    ¡°So, this entire invasion is religious in nature?¡± Frederick asked once the second set of doors closed behind the Steel Cast officer. From the console, he released the prisoner¡¯s restraints and watched as it crawled toward a small pool of Light infused water.

    ¡°It appears so. Fred, I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ve stepped into a war far older than even the seven of us. For all we know, this grudge may be older than our species.¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t know that.¡±

    "No, but we know they consider us to be unclean worshipers of the Light and think we should be used as food, if possible."

    Frederick turned back to the creature inside. ¡°His story, it almost reminds me of something I read once. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s a myth, but I can¡¯t put my finger on which one. We can dig through the archives. Hopefully, we will come across a story based on truth instead of fiction, if we are lucky.¡±

    ¡°You need to track it down. Meanwhile, I will work on a solution to help the average soldier kill them. A squad fought one recently and could not touch the beast until their optic forced the connection.¡±

    ¡°So, why do our powers work against it?¡±

    ¡°I wish I knew,¡± Benjamin replied, face screwed up in thought. ¡°Whatever the reason, we need to figure it out fast. Otherwise, our people won¡¯t live through what is coming.¡±

    ¡°And what is coming?¡±

    Benjamin turned, looking back into the cell and at the tortured creature inside. The last time a holy war threatened mankind, it ended in more death than either side was prepared for. If these creatures were truly there to bring one to their doorstep¡­ well, it wouldn¡¯t be good.

    ¡°If I¡¯m wrong, nothing. But if I¡¯m right¡­ death.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 73

    ¡°Why did we decide to merge the military into one branch? Tactically, that is a terrible decision. An Army general can¡¯t grasp the nuance of the Navy, and an admiral can¡¯t understand the Air Force. That¡¯s not even touching the fact that nothing exists to counter them should they go rogue.¡±

    ¡°But they are separate. Remember, the Seven Corps are each commanded individually at the top, but operate as a single unit near the bottom. We just don¡¯t see the interactions of the top very often.¡±

    ¡°And the fact that they have no checks and balances?¡±

    ¡°Come on, you and I both know that, if it came down to it, there is no way the Old Earth branches would have turned on one another.¡± ¨C On the efficiency of a single branch, High Ministerial debates, May 14, 3265.

    When he woke up the next morning, Jack realized something incredible; for the first time in two years, he didn¡¯t have anywhere to be. There was no P.T. to rush off to, and there was no formation to be late for. Instead, he could lay here in a pile of intertwined limbs with the woman he loved, and nobody would care.

    Not wanting the moment of bliss to end, he kept his eyes closed, simply savoring the feeling of holding Thea. In that moment, he wished nothing could ever intrude on their life, that he could just listen to her breath and love her more for it.

    He knew if he took that step, if he opened his eyes and got out of bed, it would be gone. The real world would come crashing back in with a vengeance, and there was nothing either could do to stop it. The Senate trial would continue, their leave would end, and their peace would be shattered.

    ¡°You know I know you¡¯re awake, right?¡± Thea mumbled into his chest.

    ¡°Shh, don¡¯t break the illusion,¡± he whispered, desperate not to let go.

    ¡°You also know that we need to get going soon.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t we pretend the message never got to us?¡±

    ¡°Not while still looking responsible, no.¡±

    Groaning in mock annoyance, he pulled away from her and ever so slowly rolled to his feet. In an almost zombie-like trance, he stumbled into the shower. Less than a minute later, Thea joined him. Unlike their activities the previous night, they were both solely focused on getting clean and being ready for the day.

    ¡°Think we have time for breakfast?¡± he asked, checking his HUD as he pulled a freshly laundered uniform from the auto cleaner.

    ¡°Yes, but only if we get it on the way out. I¡¯m absolutely certain your wallet couldn¡¯t handle another round of room service.¡±

    ¡°Touche, it would put a damper on whatever we wanted to do tonight,¡± he agreed, slipping on his boots and straightening his jacket. ¡°I think I saw a little caf¨¦ when we were checking in.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, look at you pulling out the French while admitting you¡¯re broke. Ironically historically accurate you know,¡± she replied, putting the finishing touches on her own uniform, ¡°Well then, my charming beau with the deplorable accent, allons-y.¡±

    The caf¨¦ turned out to be much more than the cheap buffet common in most hotels. No, they¡¯d gone several steps farther and constructed a dining room that gave each table real privacy. The owners of the establishment designed the room in a way that ensured every table had privacy and would not be interrupted by anyone.

    ¡°Have you ever noticed,¡± Jack began, sitting back in his chair while holding a cappuccino that could only be described as divine, ¡°That nearly all the food we¡¯ve had since being away from Earth has been insanely good?¡±

    ¡°In case you¡¯ve forgotten, I was also on Algol.¡±

    ¡°Obviously I don¡¯t mean there. That crap was one step up from gray sludge. Hell, I¡¯m still convinced that part of the training was learning how to gag it down. What I mean is that everywhere civilians have made their mark, the food is beyond outstanding.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ve never focused on this question long enough to actually look it up?¡±

    ¡°What is there to look up? That food is yummy?¡±

    Laughing and taking a sip from her cup of tea, she set it down before explaining, ¡°Most of the food we had back home was artificially manufactured. If you ask him, Dave will tell you the amount of genetic modification done to crops is so extreme, they produce nearly a thousand times more than they¡¯re meant to. At a certain point, scientists needed to make a choice; feed the people or preserve the taste. They chose the former. It wasn¡¯t until mankind colonized multiple worlds that the senate passed a law banning future modification. From there, it was just a matter of taking originals from the Seed Vault on Earth and returning the crops to their natural state.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ How do you ban something needed to increase output? Hell, how do they keep up with the demand?¡±

    ¡°We have entire worlds devoted to nothing but farmland. I think of the fifty-five colonies, they designated twenty as grow worlds. No major city has ever been built on one, and there never will be. Every inch of serviceable land serves the purpose of planting, growing, harvesting, and rotating crops. The only thing that breaks up the farmland is the occasional small community that tends those fields.¡±

    ¡°What you¡¯re saying is that it tastes better because it simply is?¡± he asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Basically.¡± She shrugged.

    ¡°I wonder how much defense these planets have. If they are just farmers, there is a chance they wouldn¡¯t be well protected.¡±

    ¡°Probably not, but why are you so worried about them in the first place? Are you hiding a love for agriculture that you¡¯ve never shared?¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± he laughed, ¡°but I am thinking about what an invading force would do. If I were looking to wage war against humans, I would attack the food first.¡±

    ¡°Good thing there is no war.¡±

    ¡°Who says there isn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Nobody, but I would bet that not being deployed on a suicide mission to protect a tomato is a pretty solid indicator.¡±

    ¡°Unless we were the ones that uncovered the threat in the first place. Think about it Thea, before that mission, nobody had ever seen those things before, and now we are being pulled into meetings with the damned senate? There is absolutely no reason anyone lower than a major should address them. Our protocol is to assume any new alien we meet is hostile. What if we killed an ambassador or something instead of a soldier?¡± he asked, sipping from his mug.

    ¡°Then we are truly and irrevocably fucked.¡±

    ¡°That, my love, is the truest thing either of us could¡¯ve said to describe this situation. If it takes an Optic pushing himself to the absolute limit just to kill one, imagine what it would be like against an army?¡± he asked, tapping on his temple.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t we just call in Albert to fix the problem?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but what happens when the attacks are coming from multiple locations at the same time? The seven are nearly gods, but the key word there is nearly. They are still basically human and can only be in one place at a time.¡±

    ¡°Looks like we need you to focus on training then,¡± she said, plucking a strip of bacon from his plate. ¡°In the end, you need to be able to hold at least three strands of that intensity at once.¡±

    ¡°And if I hit my personal limit long before that?¡±

    ¡°Then you may as well sign a death certificate for every member of our squad. If you¡¯re the only one that can create a weakness, then we have an even larger dependency on you than we did before, and that¡¯s saying a lot.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just hope I don¡¯t reach my limit anytime soon.¡±

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Good morning, Captain,¡± Senator Eliza Peters said after calling the chamber to order, ¡°As you are aware, there was quite a bit of deliberation as to the efficacy of your soldiers¡¯ claims yesterday.¡±

    Not knowing if the senator was waiting for a response or not, Captain Griffin stood quietly. This announcement was for anyone not in attendance the day before. Not that many missed it, but decorum was decorum, and it needed to be acknowledged when working with politicians. Until someone bothered to ask her a straightforward question, she would stand there silently.

    ¡°Some of our number choose to downplay the sacrifice of these brave men and women, outwardly spitting on the price they paid. Men and women of the Senate, need I remind you that not a single one of us was there and has no way to truly dispute their claims? If we claim them liars in the face of video evidence, we deserve to be destroyed by this coming force.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Jack ignored the mostly useless fanfare, looking around the room and to find the snarling face of Senator McDaniel missing from the crowd. It didn¡¯t surprise him. It was a well-known fact that politicians would often disappear when things got tough, then claim glory when all was said and done.

    ¡°Senator, while I appreciate your willingness to bring everyone up to speed with a recap, I do not see how this is a good use of my time. After all, my soldiers only have one more day on solid land, and I would like to let them enjoy it.¡± Captain Griffin interrupted, ¡°If, by some miracle, there is a senator here that has no clue what is going on, they may ask me or mine for elaboration when and if they need it. Otherwise, let¡¯s do away with the pomp and have an actual discussion.¡±

    It was clear by their reactions that the senators were not used to being talked to in such a way. Even the nearly unflappable Senator Peters just stood there with her mouth open, trying to determine if she¡¯d been insulted or not.

    Sure, it wasn¡¯t exactly necessary to recap the previous day¡¯s major talking points, but it was tradition. And in this room, tradition always trumped productivity.

    ¡°Captain, if you¡¯d like to wait outside for a bit, I will continue my update,¡± the senator said, trying to reclaim her dignity.

    ¡°No need,¡± Unranked Officer Mayer said from his alcove, ¡°The Captain is right, we do not need a recap for something that happened yesterday. If it eases your tension, I have already verified that everyone here was also in attendance yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Well, then¡­ I guess we will move on,¡± Peters said, backing down from what she knew was a pointless battle, ¡°Do you have anything to add before we move on, Captain?¡±

    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am. Senators of the UHR, heed this warning; We do not know who these people are, or why they are here. The only thing we truly know is that if the enemy sends an actual fighting force against us in any capacity, we lose. Since Optics are the key to surviving these things, it is fair to say most squads wouldn¡¯t have come back at all. You want proof? Look at the missing spot in Turaspeir¡¯s ranks. Look at the video we¡¯ve provided. Simply put, our weapons will not help us against creatures that are immune to Light,¡± she talked with a passion Jack had never seen from the woman, ¡°Frankly, it took an act of true heroism to take that thing down, and we can not expect that act to be replicated every time we face one.¡±

    ¡°But you just said it yourself. You don¡¯t know if or when you might cross paths with one of these creatures,¡± Senator Greene said like she¡¯d caught the Captain in a grand scheme. ¡°Why should I vote to have more resources devoted to something so fleeting? Better yet, why should I bother taking the advice of a captain?¡±

    ¡°Miss Greene, your family will not see any loss of income from this. So, if you would kindly shut up, I would appreciate it,¡± a voice said from the Unranked Officers terrace, ¡°I know, for a fact, that you don¡¯t care about your people. This mock outrage of yours is just insulting.¡±

    A man with gunmetal gray skin stepped out of the shadows and approached the center of the room. His face was hard, but his eyes held a measure of peace Jack would never have imagined. The crisp white uniform he wore matched Albert¡¯s perfectly. The only two things hinting at his identity were the profound lack of medals on his chest and the thin strip of crimson around the cuff of his sleeves.

    ¡°This captain felt the need to bring this engagement to the attention of both the Senate and the Unranked Corps. That alone should be enough evidence for you,¡± Benjamin Hargrave said, his quiet voice carrying to every ear in the room.

    It was the first time Jack had seen him. He¡¯d watched videos of Unranked Officers as part of his training, but seeing Hargrave in person made him appreciate how impressive the Steel Cast truly was. The sheer air of power emanating from him was something that couldn¡¯t be felt through a video.

    ¡°Private Jack Monroe,¡± he said, coming to a stop beside Albert, ¡°believe it or not, yours is not the first interaction we¡¯ve had with one of these creatures. However, because of the¡­ enhanced nature of our abilities, we were unaware of the immunity you unfortunately discovered. I am sorry we could not predict this. Your squamate¡¯s death is on our hands. If, by some measure of chance, it makes you feel better, I am personally working on the development of a weapon that will harm these creatures without the need for the presence of a strong optic.¡±

    While Hargrave¡¯s attention should have been intimidating, Jack wasn¡¯t afraid. There was a sort of calm in knowing the person in front of you was so adept at killing that if he wanted you dead, you would be dead. At a certain point, fear gave way to acceptance, and acceptance gave way to practicality.

    In the end, the only thing Jack could do was treat this man with the respect he deserved.

    ¡°Officer Hargrave, you will not speak to me or any senator in such a manner!¡± Senator Greene screamed from her desk, ¡°If you don¡¯t sit down this instant, I¡¯ll¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll what, Mary?¡± He said, turning toward her as his body became translucent, ¡°Get irritated at me for ignoring a silly tradition my brothers and I did not create? Or maybe you¡¯ll try to have me thrown out, and I get to prove the corruption of yet another senator today? Even if you try to have me expelled from this room, there is not a single guard in the Senate¡¯s command that could force me to comply, especially when the law says I¡¯ve done nothing wrong.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve betrayed secret information!¡±

    ¡°All I did was acknowledge that he was not the first to cross paths with The People. Ironically, the only thing cementing the knowledge of a larger issue here is your insistence on burying it.¡±

    ¡°We still don¡¯t know if this soldier is telling the truth. As I mentioned to the captain, there is no way for us to know what happened. Until I see it for myself, it is nothing more than the lies of untrustworthy soldiers,¡± she spat, turning the last word into a curse.

    ¡°If that is all it would take for you to sit down and acknowledge your foolishness, we can have that rectified,¡± he said, ignoring the look on her face as she processed what he said, ¡°Turaspeir, would you mind opening your memories to Albert? I know it is a heavy burden to remember that day, but it is easier for him to grab information that¡¯s freely given.¡±

    Feeling as though they were in a fight they had no business being in, Jack and his squad nodded their heads in acceptance. If the Senators wouldn¡¯t believe without proof, there would be no better experience than the one already past. He just hated that it meant reliving those memories yet again.

    A flash of violet was the only warning the Senators had before being forced into nine distinct memories of the same battle. They wouldn¡¯t experience the smell of blood or the feel of a rifle in their hands, but they would experience loss and hopelessness. Perhaps a few would even grieve the loss of a soldier.

    Albert held the politicians prisoner inside a memory of war for nearly ten minutes. At one point, retching sounds echoed around the room as the memory forced the dignified and dainty senators to watch a man die slowly and painfully.

    Even if he didn¡¯t like the tactic, Jack had to admit that Hargrave was right; if these people refused to believe his story because they claimed there was no proof, then why not force them to live through it?

    ¡°Heavy-handed as the approach was,¡± Albert said, releasing the threads and ending the horrific experience, ¡°I think even a room of senators would have to admit it was incredibly effective. Even if the memories are second hand, they are memories. Before someone states that memory can be faked, you need to know I cannot change something as ephemeral as thought.¡±

    ¡°Those things are real,¡± a senator in the back said, falling back into a chair. Closing her eyes, she tried and failed to escape the recollection.

    ¡°Yes, Senator, they are real. In fact, they are the only reason I¡¯ve spent the last two days trying to convince you to mobilize every optics in the corps. Even if they have been flying a desk, they must be reassigned to a combat company. If they already are in a combat company, we will move them out of a support role and into the field. Those lacking the strength that young Monroe showed in that battle will train until their powers have reached the minimum capacity to fight back.¡± Albert explained, clearly expecting the arguments that would come his way.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t Hargrave just say he was working on a way to infuse the weapons with the needed frequency? Isn¡¯t that enough?¡± Senator Greene said, trying to stir up more trouble.

    ¡°IF we can design one that works, IF we can build it, and IF we can distribute one to every soldier, then yes, it would be enough. However, fate is rarely kind. We are working on a fix, but it is always possible that a company of soldiers will run into The People next week,¡± Hargrave replied, ¡°you just watched a soldier being popped like a grape. If you don¡¯t do as I suggest, I can promise you many more will follow in that fate. Your approval, or lack thereof, will not stop us from doing what we must. But I¡¯m certain these men and women would sleep more soundly and fight more effectively if they knew their government stood beside them. Don¡¯t fail these soldiers, and they won¡¯t fail you.¡±

    ¡°You make a compelling case.¡± Senator Peters replied before turning to address the others, ¡°My fellow lawmakers, these people are asking us to give up our near-instant communication. At last count, we use over four-hundred optics as nothing more than errand boys. If these soldiers made it through a gauntlet of pain on that mission, we can deal with the inconvenience of losing a secretary. Cast your votes.¡±

    Conversation amongst the congressmen broke out, shattering the spell of silence that had fallen over them after being forced to experience a true battle. This vote was a question of greed; could the various representatives of the UHR¡¯s many worlds truly make the sacrifice of giving up their optics?

    Some cast their vote quickly, feeling that it was not a question of deliberation or a matter of what they could gain from the situation. Others took their time, unable to decide if they would protect their own interests or those of the people. After nearly an hour, Senator Peters finally revealed an answer.

    ¡°Though the margins on this were depressingly close, the UHR Senate has decided to transfer all optics, regardless of current assignment, into combat units immediately. Further, it has been decided that they will give the Unranked Officers the funds and resources necessary to build weapons that might kill these creatures.¡±

    ¡°Good. Before this session ends, there is one more thing that needs to be done,¡± Benjamin said. ¡°Now that the authenticity of this soldier¡¯s heroism has been proven, I feel the need to honor him personally. Private Monroe, step forward.¡±

    With the unthinking motions of a trained soldier, Jack rose from his seat and approached the Officer. Outside, he was the perfect picture of military decorum as he walked. Inside, however, he was nervous, excited, and if he were honest with himself¡­ more than a touch fearful.

    ¡°Private First Class Jack Monroe,¡± Benjamin said, raising his voice to draw the focus back to him, ¡°The honor I am choosing to give you today is not given lightly. In my thousand years of life, I¡¯ve only seen fit to do this a thousand times. It¡¯s not the most prestigious honor a soldier can hold, but it is one that I hope you will wear with pride.¡±

    The Steel Cast man reached into his uniform and pulled out a small silver box. Nestled atop the back velvet was a medal that Jack hadn¡¯t seen before. A bronze seven-pointed starburst highlighted by the softly glowing crimson gemstone at its heart.

    ¡°I, Benjamin Hargrave of the Unranked Officers, award you the Bronze Nova. It is a poor replacement for a friend lost on the battlefield, but one day you will look back at this day with pride,¡± The Officer pulled the award from its resting place and pressed it into the front of Jack¡¯s uniform. Before Jack could express his stunned gratitude, Benjamin grabbed Jack¡¯s rank insignia and ripped it off.

    ¡°You are no longer fit to wear this rank,¡± he said. ¡°I have never granted this award to anyone lower than the rank of sergeant, and I don¡¯t intend to start now. Because of this, you¡¯re being promoted to sergeant with all the responsibility that comes with it. Can you handle this duty with honor and pride?¡±

    Surprised by the turn of events, Jack nodded in the affirmative.

    ¡°Good. As for your squad, they are being promoted to the rank of specialist for their role in the battle. Without them, you would have gone nowhere. Everyone in this room has watched what happened, and knows what you did.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Return to your post, Sergeant Monroe.¡±

    Jack turned and walked back to his chair in a haze, barely listening to the polite applause from senators that felt the need to be seen. He never expected this, and truth be told, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he wanted it.

    In hardship, we rise.

    His family motto had never felt more appropriate than in that single moment. He may not want it, he may not have asked for it, but he would rise to the challenge and fill the role he¡¯d been given.

    He would lead.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 74

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, Galileo has fallen. The defense grid is down and local AHF personnel are on their back foot. If you are unaware, Galileo is where the UHR produces most of its Serum. Without it, we are defenseless. The question on the mind of reporters here is simple: Who are these invaders? Are they the ones responsible for Earth?¡± ¨C From ZNN Breaking News, June 7, 3265.

    ¡°How does it feel to make it all the way to sergeant in just two years?¡± Captain Griffin asked after they¡¯d left the Senate chamber.

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure yet. If I had to put it to words, I would say that I¡¯m not ready for the rank yet, but there is nothing I can do to change that now,¡± Jack replied, looking down at the insignia on his chest.

    ¡°That is probably the most self-observant answer anyone¡¯s ever given me. It usually takes a few months of screwing up before a soldier recognizes he needs help.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Ma¡¯am. The truth is, I don¡¯t feel like either of these rewards should be mine. Sure, I led the squad, but if it wasn¡¯t for my team, we would¡¯ve all died on that planet.¡±

    ¡°Instead, you and yours rallied against unknown forces and fought, even knowing you were turning your back on a perfectly acceptable escape. You took command and saved not one, but four squads,¡± First Sergeant Summers interjected. ¡°That is why you¡¯re wearing Hargrave¡¯s Bronze Nova.¡±

    ¡°I think the most important part is that we recognized the others for the part they played.¡± Jack said, looking around and realizing he was the only remaining member of his team, ¡°Making everyone specialists was a massive part of that, especially since they played a much bigger role than I did.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you see it like that. Unfortunately, more than a few try to claim the accomplishments of the team as accomplishments of the self,¡± Summers replied. ¡°Between us, we know a squad needs to be led by someone with heart. That¡¯s what you did, and that¡¯s why the Captain and I are proud to have you in our company¡­ It¡¯s why I¡¯m proud to see that nova on your chest. Officer Hargrave wasn¡¯t lying when he said how rarely he awards those medals.¡±

    ¡°If I remember right, he averages one a year. The other Unranked¡¯s tend to be more liberal with awards than their stoic counterpart,¡± Griffin said, ¡°catch up with your squad. We leave at 06:00, you have just over twelve hours left dirt side. Remember to give yourselves enough time to get up the elevator and back to the ship.¡±

    Nodding, Jack saluted the captain and jogged to catch up with his friends. Leaving that early meant spending another night in the hotel wouldn¡¯t be smart, but it also didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t enjoy themselves. If they didn¡¯t take the opportunity they had, he knew it would be a long time before they had another one.

    ¡°Nice to have you back, Sergeant,¡± Cecile mocked when he found them milling about a tourist shop across from the Capitol complex.

    ¡°We have to be on the ship by 05:00, so we have most of the evening and a night left,¡± he said, intentionally giving an earlier time so there would be no reason to be late, ¡°Personally, I want to walk around and enjoy real land as long as possible, but if you guys want to do your own thing, feel free.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll walk,¡± Thea said, sliding up to Jack and slipping her arm in his. ¡°That way we can find somewhere nice to eat, NOT a bar, and you can feed me and tell me I¡¯m pretty.¡±

    ¡°So, I¡¯m nothing more than compliments and dinner?¡± he asked playfully.

    ¡°And don¡¯t you forget it,¡± she shot back with a laugh.

    ¡°As much fun as it is watching you two flirt for hours on end, I¡¯m going to find something to do. I might even take a cab to the beach and stare at the ocean. You in, Dave?¡± Alec said, pulling up his interface and calling a cab after the big man nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Meet at the elevator platform at 04:30.¡± Jack reminded, mentally asking Bob to track the two men.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, you go have fun and we will do the same,¡± Alec waved as he, Dave, and Thomas got in the taxi as it pulled up.

    ¡°And you guys?¡± Jack asked, looking at the girls.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be there. You take care of Thea tonight, and don¡¯t be late to your own meeting,¡± Nessa said.

    ¡°Looks like we have a full night to ourselves,¡± he said after the others were gone.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t happen often,¡± Thea replied.

    ¡°Want to go eat and fall asleep under the sapphire tree?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve read my mind, Sergeant.¡±

    ~~**~~

    The next morning found them standing in the square, waiting for the platform. Overall, the group enjoyed their vacation from military life more than they could describe, and it showed. They¡¯d maximized their experience on Phoenix, and the only thing anyone wished for was more time.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Nessa whispered, leaning into Jack¡¯s ear, ¡°Is that who I think it is?¡±

    Walking away from the elevator was a visage Jack would have preferred to leave in the past. If the breaker hadn¡¯t seen his face, it would¡¯ve been nearly impossible to recognize him. But that smug, self-serving, bigoted face was easy to remember.

    Everything else was different. His uniform hid much, but it did not hide the thin line of metal embedded along the backs of his hands and fingers. Even if Jack could¡¯ve that missed detail, it was impossible to ignore the Nano-Graft webbing that ran from his neck, and below his collar.

    Hoping whatever happened on Algol made him a better person, Jack called out.

    Fast as a snake, Chet whipped his head in their direction. Jack realized in horror that the AHF had replaced his eyes with Li-Tech prosthetics. He wasn¡¯t sure if it had been necessary, or in the name of being a better soldier, but he was willing to bet it wasn¡¯t the former.

    ¡°Oh look, it¡¯s the bleeding hearts club,¡± he said with a sneer.

    ¡°How have you been? When did you get off Algol?¡± Jack asked, ignoring the barb, and trying to start a conversation.

    ¡°I left that hellhole two months after you decided my future. They told me that since I wouldn¡¯t obey, they would find a battalion that fit my particular set of skills. What they forgot to mention was that it has the highest mortality rate of any in the AHF,¡± he said, voice dripping hate with every word.

    ¡°Looks like you survived,¡± Dave said, looping his thumbs into his belt loops and resting his hand on the hilt of the broadsword he¡¯d purchased the night before.

    ¡°Survived? Survived!¡± He screamed, holding out his arm and yanking the sleeve up as far as he could. It was no longer human. The metallic grafts buried whatever was left of the original so deeply that it was impossible to tell what used to be there. ¡°They claimed my anger meant I couldn¡¯t follow orders. So, instead of training me, or even killing me, they kept replacing parts until they could override my free will. ANY possessor can walk up and take over my body. I have nothing left. I am nothing more than a fucking drone.¡±

    Had this confrontation been in the middle of the day, it would¡¯ve caused a massive scene. Luckily, it was early enough that very few civilians were around to witness. The last thing they needed was to be late to the hub-ship because of an old grudge.

    ¡°We made a hard choice, and I¡¯m sorry it happened that way. You know what you did, you know how you acted. Do you really think Roberts would¡¯ve let us send you away if he thought any other answer would suffice?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck about how hard your choice was, Monroe. They tore apart me just so they could watch Light bonding to human cells. I¡¯m not the first, I¡¯m not even in the first million.¡± He spat, pulling down the side of his collar to show a number tattooed on his neck, ¡°I wish I could hurt you, all of you self-righteous assholes. The only reason I didn¡¯t throttle you on sight is because my leash is so short that if I tried to attack, I¡¯d be in a puddle of my own piss. You took everything from me. It¡¯s only right that I should be able to return the favor.¡±

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Growling, the soldier pulled down his sleeve and backed up a few steps, face twitching in rage as he considered his options. Eventually, he decided that full control of his body was more important than trying to murder Jack and turned away.

    Jack simply stood there, watching dumbfounded and stricken by guilt as the man stalked off. Was he really the start of all this, or was it Chet¡¯s fault for not adapting?

    ¡°Jack, we have to go,¡± Thea said, pulling on his arm slightly and pointing toward the waiting elevator, ¡°We can talk about him on the Washington.¡±

    Like snapping out of a bad dream, Jack nodded and allowed himself to be pulled onto the platform. The group just stood in silence, staring at the place where Private Chet Davis had briefly returned to their lives.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, and it¡¯s not ours either,¡± Warren said, breaking the silence.

    Dave raised a questioning eyebrow.

    ¡°Sure, we voted to have him removed from the company, but before you regret that decision, don¡¯t forget why. Better yet, remember what his lackey did to Nessa during our final exercise.¡±

    ¡°He has a point,¡± Alec replied grudgingly, recalling the near fatal beating Nessa had received. ¡°If he would¡¯ve stayed, someone would have died. He was just too¡­ angry.¡±

    ¡°Still can¡¯t believe I hog-tied him,¡± Dave grinned. ¡°I mean¡­ he charged me like a bull, so I treated him like a steer. If he wouldn¡¯a had murder in those eyes, he might could¡¯a fought back.¡±

    ¡°He almost looks like a bond villain now,¡± Warren said, ¡°Except that he has no money or power.¡±

    ¡°Coming from a group of enlisted, we don¡¯t exactly have a lot of room to talk,¡± Cecile quipped, ¡°Look at Alec; he¡¯s only one good grease bath away from being part of the engine.¡±

    ¡°Who said I¡¯m not? Let¡¯s face it, any mechanic worth his salt has greased an engine or two with blood. Don¡¯t even mention the amount we accidentally eat. I¡¯m basically engine oil at this point.¡± Alec replied.

    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting,¡± Nessa said wearily. ¡°I thought I¡¯d heard all of your strange boasts already, but this is new.¡±

    ¡°It gets worse. Ask him what he used instead of lube one night,¡± Dave said, adding fuel to the fire.

    ¡°Dude! There was nothing else left in the garage, and that was confidential,¡± he yelled, giving away the secret to everyone in earshot.

    The comfortable banter helped pass the time as they waited, giving them one last moment of freedom before returning to the military world. Sadly, that time had to end eventually. Before long, the squad found themselves back on the elevator to the ring city of Orasinel.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Damn Monroe,¡± Sergeant Crocker said as the squad walked up the ramp with only five minutes to spare, ¡°First shore leave and you wanna be late getting back? Shame, shame, shame.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for waiting Crock, we got a bit held up, but we¡¯re here now.¡±

    ¡°No problem Private. No, wait¡­ what is that?¡± The shuttle pilot said, pausing when he saw the stripes on Jack¡¯s uniform, ¡°You know you can¡¯t be wearing rank you didn¡¯t earn, right? You think you can just throw on some tiger stripes and get laid? Pretty big trouble for one night on the town.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯m right here,¡± Thea said impatiently, ¡°And he didn¡¯t put them on to get laid.¡±

    ¡°So why the fake rank?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s not fake. They promoted me right after the hearing,¡± Jack answered, sense of urgency gone now that he and his squad were back on military ground.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be¡­ Just head up to the¡­ what the fuck are you doing with a Nova?¡± He asked, surprised for the second time in as many minutes.

    ¡°That was the other half of the promotion,¡± Jack replied with a grin.

    ¡°Well, go sit down and wait for us to get back to the Washington. You nine need to get up to company headquarters as soon as you arrive. They sent the call out just before you showed up.¡±

    ¡°Thanks again Crock. I guess it¡¯s time to get back to real life.¡±

    Turning to the window, Jack watched as a planet he¡¯d quickly come to love shrank away. He would come back and when he did, he and Thea would take those walks through the mountains. They would explore this world and make it their home.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Now that we are all here, we can begin the briefing.¡± Captain Griffin said to the assembled company once the remaining stragglers found their place. The disapproving glare she shot one of the platoon leaders displaying her annoyance at being forced to wait.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me, Cap,¡± a lieutenant interrupted, ¡°We haven¡¯t even had time to wash the city smell out of our clothes, and we¡¯re being deployed again?¡±

    In his time with Charlie Company, Jack learned that many formalities observed in other units were staunchly ignored here. Most Non-commissioned officers¡ªnow including himself¡ªand nearly every officer just didn¡¯t care about Decorum.

    When soldiers from other companies had to interact with his, they were significantly more formal than anything the Optic had seen since basic training. Though he didn''t know it for a fact, he suspected Summers had initially developed his relaxed demeanor in a company similar to this one.

    ¡°Yes Amor, we are being sent out again. I would think with nearly twenty years in this unit, you¡¯d learn that shore leave does nothing but tempt fate into deploying us faster.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth. But Cap, couldn¡¯t you at least give us time to take a dump before calling a meeting? What¡¯s the problem this time, new colony being eaten?¡±

    ¡°Old colony, but yes,¡± she replied, accessing the center terminal and sharing the mission details on the holographic projector. ¡°Unfortunately, it isn¡¯t just a simple target elimination like last year. If it was, I would forgo the meeting and tell you to gear up.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the local battalion be holding the line? Isn¡¯t that the entire reason the planet-rats exist?¡± another soldier called, ¡°New colonies I get, especially considering how long it takes to build the defense grid, but why in the hell would we need to fight at an old one?¡±

    ¡°Because the Raak¡¯Shee bombarded the grid from orbit and dropped on Galileo¡¯s military bases. Considering the number of soldiers stationed there, we estimate nearly half survived and are hunkering down for a long-term occupation.¡±

    The room was speechless. Galileo was one of the UHR¡¯s oldest and most protected settlements. Not only was it a massive hub for human life, but it was also the only planet with enough materials to create the Serum in large supplies. If the enemy had control of it, then not only would mankind lose the ability to create soldiers, but it was just a matter of time before Light empowered Raak¡¯Shee were fighting them at every turn.

    ¡°Well¡­ fuck.¡± Amor said, summing up the feeling in the room pretty accurately, ¡°And they want us¡ªa single company¡ªto take the planet back?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. The rest of the 416<sup>th</sup> will join us, but each company has its own target objective. Ours is to take back Bravo factory. If we cannot, artillery will have orders to obliterate it so the power source does not fall into enemy hands.¡±

    ¡°Well, at least you don¡¯t ask for much,¡± Amor quipped, trying in vain to lighten the mood.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you feel that way. The good news is that since this is a human settlement, we won¡¯t need to drop you. We should be able to gate right down to the surface with no interference. Unfortunately, you will once again be divided by squad, since the factory is so large. And because the AHF loves you so much, you¡¯ll be without aerial support for at least two hours. The equipment they¡¯re bringing is too large for a troop gate.¡±

    The scene on the hologram changed to depict an overhead view of the complex with several areas highlighted.

    ¡°First and second platoons, your assault squads are to handle the outer perimeter. Intel suggests it has a higher-than-normal concentration of enemy combatants, but I¡¯m sure you can handle it. I will not say easily, considering the enemy, but I will say it is doable.¡±

    ¡°Entry points?¡± Amor asked, all joviality gone from his voice. This was information he and his men needed to survive. He would not risk missing it for a joke.

    ¡°Here and here,¡± she replied, pointing to two of the zones.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about First, but I would feel more confident in our abilities if we can be dropped in this area instead,¡± pulling a laser pointer from his jacket and identifying the exact location he wanted the squad to be dropped, ¡°It¡¯s about a kilo farther, but it will allow my long-range fighters to cross this ridge and provide cover fire. If you put us any closer, my snipers won¡¯t be able to get where they need to be.¡±

    ¡°What about you Singh?¡± Griffin asked, turning to First Platoon¡¯s Lieutenant, ¡°Any issues with your drop point?¡±

    ¡°No, ma¡¯am,¡± she replied tersely. ¡°Our quartermaster will load them with heavy gear. That will give us three Wyverns and three Juggernauts. The other four will just have to play second string.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Third Platoon, your objective is to locate and disarm the building¡¯s security measures. There are three security posts located here, here, and here,¡± she explained, moving on to the next squad and highlighting both their objective and drop zone. ¡°Your drop is non-negotiable. Out of all potential areas, this one is not only the most direct but also provides the most cover with the lowest chance of discovery. Pack light and move fast.¡±

    ¡°Roger that, ma¡¯am,¡± the slight form of Lieutenant Valentine said, falling silent as she so often did during these briefings. No matter the mission, she never fought back or argued with the details. Her platoon had an excellent reputation for infiltration and she¡¯d learned a long time ago that if a plan needed to be changed, it would change on the ground.

    ¡°Finally, Fourth Platoon. Your objective is to break into the building and locate the Serum vault. If the building is too well guarded, you are to locate the master control room and initiate a meltdown sequence in each of the four production machines. Search and destroy is the name of your game. Any creature in that building that is not human must die, preferably with extreme prejudice.¡±

    ¡°And if we clear the building and secure the vault?¡± Hawkins asked.

    ¡°Then you have accomplished the primary mission. So long as the other platoons do their part and wipe out the invading force on the outside, we can keep the factory and refrain from destroying one of our few sources of Serum. Either way, I want your squad to locate and secure at least one case of Serum in case things don¡¯t go according to plan.¡± She explained, gesturing to the hologram and changing the image to a list of names.

    ¡°Unfortunately, the brass has decided that you will also have a secondary objective. The Raak¡¯Shee have taken several people into the mountain. Locate these prisoners and assist them in whatever way possible. If that means slapping a locator beacon on their forehead and allowing us to Gate them up, fine. Frankly, I would prefer that, but I¡¯m not the one in the field,¡± she finished with a sullen expression.

    ¡°Understood. Where is our drop zone?¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± she said, changing the hologram back and pointing to a peak far from the front entrance to the factory, ¡°Any closer, and you risk being seen on entry. There is an emergency door at the top of the peak that any Possessor or Dragoon should be able to open without triggering an alarm.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    ¡°This will not be a simple mission, but it needs to be done. I¡¯m sorry it has to be us, but I know you can pull it off. Come home in one piece. Dismissed.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 75

    ¡°Your predecessor claimed election fraud every time they beat him at the polls. As you¡¯re well away, we have the expanded electoral college for a reason. If you lose this race, will you accept defeat graciously, or will you embrace Vadim Agoston¡¯s unfounded claims?¡± ¨C From the High Ministerial debates, three weeks prior to the election.

    ¡°Anyone want to share with the class?¡± Jack asked the room full of soldiers as they donned their equipment, ¡°I¡¯m willing to take anything here: info on Galileo, what in the hell a Raak¡¯Shee is, how we kill them, anything.¡±

    ¡°If you want the textbook answers, you¡¯ll have to drag them out of Hawkins. But if you¡¯re just looking to kill the suckers, you¡¯ve got the right folks.¡± A soldier said as he stepped into his armored exoskeleton. ¡°Basically, they got real thick skin and are very tall, even taller than Johnson over there,¡± he described over the sound of his armor locking into place. ¡°They¡¯re thin for their size, but don¡¯t let that fool you. If you get within melee range, you¡¯re already dead.¡±

    ¡°Gotta kill ¡®em from far away. They can¡¯t see worth a shit, and I¡¯ve never seen one carry a gun,¡± Johnson chimed in.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they use guns? Melee isn¡¯t always an option,¡± Dave stated, curious why a space-faring race wouldn¡¯t carry firearms.

    ¡°They don¡¯t need it. Once, I saw one close a two-hundred-foot gap before Nicky could even get his barrel up. Just fill it with Light from a distance and hope it doesn¡¯t get close,¡± the first soldier finished, collecting his weapons from the table beside him before walking out of the room.

    ¡°Well, this sounds¡­ fun?¡± Alec said with more than a little trepidation in his voice.

    ¡°It is. Between you and the Aegis, you should have more than enough time to kill them before they kill you,¡± Johnson said, turning to finishing his gearing up.

    ¡°Right,¡± Alec replied, looking at the weapons depot and suddenly feeling the need to carry many more guns. ¡°I guess guns and ammo are the name of the game here. I wonder if 50 thousand rounds will be enough¡­¡±

    ¡°The right answer is that there is never enough ammo. But load yourself down with as much as you can comfortably carry and you might not run out,¡± the Captain said, walking into the room. ¡°Finish up and get down to the Gate room, we jump in five.¡±

    All talking ceased as the soldiers grabbed last-minute gear and exited the room with their helmets hanging from pauldrons.

    Standing in a now-empty armory, Captain Griffin took the moment to worry about her men. Should she don her armor? She knew Summers would, but he always did, just in case.

    If things went south, could she even make a difference?

    She often asked herself these questions before the company deployed, but she couldn¡¯t shake the impression that something would go horribly wrong today.

    Staring into her reflection in the faceplate of her helmet, she came to a decision.

    If someone died, it wouldn¡¯t be because she didn¡¯t step up.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Spier squad,¡± Lieutenant Hawkins yelled, ¡°Prepare to move!¡±

    The four platoons assembled in Charlie company¡¯s gate room. The pre-battle tension was so thick, it was almost like Jack could cut with a knife. Every soldier had a thing that helped them get ready for a mission, usually formed from years of superstition that eventually morphed into tradition.

    Unfortunately, Jack¡¯s squad was far too green to have built up beliefs of their own. Instead, they simply stood there, continuously feeding the unease that came before every mission.

    ¡°Alright Monroe, I¡¯ve watched your training enough to know how you fight,¡± Staff Sergeant Smith said, pulling a pistol off Jack¡¯s armor and replaced it with another pair of hilts, ¡°You prefer up close and personal, so I¡¯m loading you down with two daggers, four sabers, and a polearm. If you decide you don¡¯t like the feel of one or the other, let me know when you get back and we can try something different. As far as ranged weaponry is concerned, I¡¯m equipping you with the standard LT-27 on your back and a sidearm in your hip compartment. You¡¯ll also have several high-density magazines in your armor storage. With your squad, I don¡¯t see the need for many grenades, but you¡¯ve got the standard load out, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Jack replied, shrugging his shoulders to let the equipment settle comfortably, ¡°but if the mission is just to reclaim a factory, do you really think I¡¯ll need all of this?¡±

    ¡°Did you need all the firepower I gave you last time? The fact that you¡¯re even asking proves to me you need it. The other squads are loaded down just as heavily, if not more so. You¡¯re going to need every advantage you can get.¡±

    ¡°Company, attention!¡± Summers yelled, calling the room to silence, ¡°Support, Aerial Assault, Artillery, fall out.¡±

    Soldiers broke away from their squads and moved toward the back of the room.

    ¡°Ready, Gate!¡±

    In the front of the chamber, four separate rings of twisted metal came to life, white Light spun through metallic seams before eventually shooting inward. The view of the wall shattered, each broken portion showing somewhere new as it locked in their destinations.

    ¡°Ready, arms!¡±

    Jack pulled his helmet from a hook on his shoulder and slipped it over his head. With a quick command to his AI, it locked into place and completed the hermetic seal. Once the armor was fully engaged, his Vis-HUD deactivated, and the helm¡¯s faceplate took over.

    Unlike basic training, they never handed a soldier an uncharged weapon in a combat unit. Quartermasters equipped each item in their kit with a fully charged Light Battery capable of performing at maximum capacity for twenty-four hours before needing to be recharged. While it wasn¡¯t a perfect solution, it allowed the soldiers to use their abilities to the fullest instead of worrying about recharging gear.

    With a minor exertion of will, Jack forged a link with his squad, closing the circuit on himself so that he wasted no power maintaining the connection. While each set of armor included a radio, his communication was simpler to use and much more reliable.

    ¡°Turaspeir Squad ready,¡± he said over the command channel.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Copy that loud and clear, all units are go,¡± Summers said, replying over comms before addressing everyone, ¡°Good luck and godspeed. You may proceed through the Gate.¡±

    The clatter of metallic boots on the steel deck easily drowned out all other sounds as the four squads ran. When Turaspeir charged through the portal, the unnatural feeling of being shattered into billions of particles didn¡¯t faze them in the slightest as their bodies reformed on a snow-covered mountaintop.

    ¡°Bob, give me a readout of each soldier¡¯s vitals on the upper left-hand corner of my faceplate,¡± Jack said, running to the nearest rock and diving behind it for cover against the unknown.

    ¡°As you wish, Master. It¡¯s almost like we don¡¯t talk unless you are on a mission anymore,¡± the AI complained as the requested information populated.

    ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t be so snippy all the time, perhaps I would talk to you more.¡±

    ¡°How rude. It¡¯s not like I flood your vision with distracting images while you¡¯re trying to work. Did you ever think that I¡¯m snippy because you ignore me?¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve acted like this since the day I picked up your module,¡± he said distractedly, casting his senses toward the distant mountain.

    Through a security camera across the ridgeline, he pinpointed the location of the door and a pair of hulking, gray-skinned figures. Shifting his perspective, he groaned when he realized getting there would mean crossing two mountains and dealing with at least a three-hundred-foot climb.

    All while trying to avoid the view of the guards.

    Hopefully, that veteran wasn¡¯t wrong about how bad their eyesight was.

    ¡°Also, putting distracting things on my HUD is exactly what you do, and you know it. What is the status of the other squads?¡±

    ¡°All squads have landed successfully at their drop point. Once your team is in place, you are to wait for confirmation.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Jack replied before switching to squad comms. ¡°Guys, I need Neilson and Alexander to find a good place to establish a nest. The rest of you, find temporary cover and avoid being seen until we have the ok to proceed.¡±

    ¡°Roger that,¡± Cecile said, climbing to the peak with Warren in tow.

    They waited for what felt like hours, the mountain snow covering them in a white blanket as they slowly became part of the landscape. Above, the two long-range soldiers took their task a step farther and submerged themselves in the snow, leaving only a small tunnel and a pair of rifle barrels visible.

    ¡°I have a Vixen and a swarm of Wasps in the air now. They will be your aerial eyes,¡± Warren announced as the drones spread out to get a better view of the landscape.

    ¡°And I¡¯m going to have Crawlers with the assault group. Let me know how you want to use them,¡± Jenkins said as two spider-like drones detached from his kit and disappeared into the woods.

    ¡°Understood. Warren, keep that Vixen high, but not out of firing range. Not sure how we can use the Wasps, but if you see a good use, do not hesitate. Jenkins, the same goes for you. Drones are not my expertise, so I¡¯m relying on you to use your best judgment when we get into a fight.¡± Jack ordered.

    ¡°You guys need a drone that can gate us out if things get too bad,¡± Alec said.

    ¡°What, you want them to just swoop in and pull us out when shit hits the fan?¡± Nessa asked sarcastically.

    ¡°Yeah, a little. At the very least, it could gate the enemy into a nearby star.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ both brilliant and brilliantly stupid in its simplicity.¡±

    ¡°Spier squad, this is Command,¡± an unknown voice said, cutting off the banter, ¡°All squads are in place and ready for action. Begin moving toward your objective. Once you¡¯re within a hundred meters, hold for further instruction.¡±

    ¡°Copy that, Command.¡± Jack answered, rising from the ground, and setting off along what he hoped was a decent path.

    Not long after, he realized the snow-covered landscape would spell disaster if even one misplaced step dislodged too much snow. ¡°Bob, please plot the safest path and share it with the squad. There is no actual trail here and without some kind of guide, we will die horribly.¡±

    ¡°And yet you still do not recognize the number of times you¡¯d already be dead if not for my guidance,¡± the AI remarked as a golden line showing the safest path appeared in the Sergeant¡¯s vision.

    Jack walked across the deep snow, careful only to step where the AI instructed. While not an easy hike by any stretch of the imagination, having a trail plotted by a computer that could predict the snow density based on micro elevation changes made things significantly easier.

    ¡°If we weren¡¯t here to kill a bunch of people, this view would be breathtaking,¡± Thea said as they came to the first mountaintop. ¡°But then again, if we didn¡¯t need to kill a bunch of people, we wouldn¡¯t be here in the first place.¡±

    ¡°How romantic,¡± Heather said, staring out across the space between peaks.

    Upon closer inspection, the two rock formations weren¡¯t separate mountains at all. While Jack certainly did not have the science to explain it, it seemed as if someone had split a single mountain in half with a cleaver and allowed them to drift apart for millions of years.

    ¡°Any idea how we get across without having to scale two separate cliffs?¡± Jenkins said, staring at the gap with more than a little trepidation, ¡°I mean¡­ I can fly a vixen over, but it can¡¯t carry anyone.¡±

    ¡°Give me a second,¡± Jack said as a pulse of violet Light rippled out from his body, ¡°The good news is there are no hostiles in the gorge nor on the other side. However, I agree that climbing all the way down and back up is a colossal waste of time and would suck¡­ a lot. Any suggestion?¡±

    ¡°I can send a few strands across the gap at an angle, and we can zipline across.¡± Candice offered, ¡°If you tell your AI to take over, the gauntlets should be able to act like a sheave.¡±

    ¡°I have a climbing strap and some anchors in my rappelling kit. I think we all do. Can we use those?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°We can try, but we may want to hold on with the gauntlet as well. If you move too fast, you¡¯ll melt the eye and drop like a rock,¡± she explained, taking out the climbing gear and securing it to her armor.

    As they prepared, she activated three threads of power and twisted them together like a stranded cable before looping them through her carabiner. She knew a single string would be enough to hold both the soldiers and their gear, but being over-prepared never hurt.

    She wound the cable through the squad¡¯s equipment, extending it across the gorge and anchoring it to a tree. Once secure, she stepped back and tested the angle before finally accepting that it was good as it was going to get.

    ¡°Who¡¯s up first?¡± She asked, not surprised in the slightest when Jack stepped up, ¡°Alright then big boy, grab on to that line and tell your AI to regulate speed. Just like the drop pods, let it control your armor.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Jack replied, stomach-turning in fear from the sheer insanity of what he was about to do. ¡°Bob, can you take over? Grab the rope and, for the love of the stars, don¡¯t let go.¡±

    ¡°Understood. But just for the record, I just told the other AIs that you want me to grab your rope and never let go. They laughed for a whole second¡­ do you know how long that is for us?¡± Bob said, mirth clear in his voice.

    ¡°Asshole,¡± Jack replied quietly, ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

    The moment the words left his mouth, Candice lifted the cable high enough to force him to move. At first, it wasn¡¯t so bad. It was almost like riding a Ferris Wheel, except it had no chair. Unfortunately, his speed quickly went from nice and smooth to fast and terrifying. In that moment, he understood why she called it a zipline, and he was not amused.

    A primal part of him wanted to wrap his arms around the cable and hold on with all his might. If he could get his legs up and onto the line, he would be safe. He knew, he KNEW, the carabiner would snap at any moment and his AI wouldn¡¯t be able to hold on. If that happened, he¡¯d be nothing but a smear on the rocks below.

    His heart raced, and his breathing quickened. He would die here, and he knew it.

    ¡°Jack, calm down,¡± Thea said over the comms, ¡°The more you move and thrash around like that, the worse it will be. Relax.¡±

    ¡°Bite me!¡± he yelled. ¡°Crazy ass binder is going to get me killed.¡±

    ¡°Hey¡­ don¡¯t go threatening me with a good time. Oh, and in case you forgot¡­ you volunteered to go first,¡± she replied, trying to distract him, ¡°You won¡¯t fall, but even if you do, I will put you back together. I made that promise long ago, remember?¡±

    He did remember, and somehow that knowledge helped him come to grips with what was happening.

    An outcropping of rock finally replaced the open air below. He¡¯d been so worried about dying, he¡¯d missed the entire experience. Yes, it was terrifying, but it was also exhilarating.

    ¡°Can the rest of us have a pretty speech like that? I really liked that part about having a good time,¡± Alec said, stepping up to the edge and clamping on with his gauntlet.

    ¡°Too bad. The only people that get to bite me are Jack and the alien that will eventually kill me,¡± she replied, shoving the dragoon with a smile as he cursed his way across the gorge.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 76

    ¡°In breaking news, a man broke into Senator Peters¡¯ home last night with the intention of seriously injuring the politician. She was not on the planet at the time, which seems to be a pretty major oversight in the attacker¡¯s plans. Quick thinking by her husband¡ªTom¡ªhelped him stall until authorities could arrive on the scene and take the intruder into custody.¡± ¨C Eleven O¡¯clock news, Khepri Channel One.

    ¡°Turaspeir is in position,¡± Jack stated through the command channel.

    After crossing the gorge, the squad quickly traversed the second mountain. It was still treacherous, but with Bob¡¯s help and a solid dose of luck, they reached their destination with little excitement. Unfortunately, the need to wait for the OK from command meant huddling in a small mountain cave while watching the nearby entrance to the facility.

    ¡°Understood. The other squads are in place and will begin their part of the op soon. Wait five minutes, then proceed as you see fit. From here on out, you have full operational command,¡± Griffin said in her typical short and sweet fashion.

    Unfortunately, that was the one thing Jack didn¡¯t want. Being in control of every small part of a mission was more than a little daunting, especially considering someone had always held his hand through past operations. With the notable exception of their last mission, Jack never had this much rope to hang himself with.

    It was terrifying.

    ¡°Alright Speir, we have our orders. Alexander, I need you to begin a sweep of the area and make sure no other guards are waiting in the wind. You have five minutes.¡± Jack said, putting his fears aside and focusing on the task at hand.

    ¡°On it,¡± the Possessor replied.

    ¡°West, I need you to make the rounds and ensure that you top off everyone on Aegis Light. The rest of you do the same with your weapons and armor. We won¡¯t have access to natural light down there, so whatever you have stored up is all you¡¯ve got.¡±

    Nodding, Dave got up and walked around the cave to channel Light into everyone¡¯s equipment. Before long, others were doing the same with anything that could hold a charge. They knew preparedness was the name of the game, and failing to prepare properly could end in tragedy.

    Wanting another look at the field, Jack cast his sight into the Vixen Warren was flying overhead. As he flew a loop around the mountaintop, both he and Warren saw the first moments of far-off skirmishes. If nothing else, they were at least able to confirm the operation''s status.

    ¡°I only see the two from before,¡± Warren said, positioning the drone in a place with a clear shot at a target. ¡°My assumption is that any other guards have been pulled away, or just weren¡¯t here in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Great work. Jenkins, you¡¯re up. I want you to take a crawler and lure one of them away from the door.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± he said, falling still as he retook direct control of the active crawler.

    Outside the cave, a flash of indigo temporarily broke the drone¡¯s active camo before settling back into the mottled white of the snow-covered mountaintop.

    ¡°Neilson, how sure are you of your shot? Think you can take one of them out?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± she asked flatly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about my aim. I¡¯m going to drop my load directly in its eye. Let¡¯s see how it enjoys the pirate treatment.¡±

    ¡°Hey, we save that for Tuesdays,¡± Warren remarked.

    ¡°Go for it and be ready for another.¡± Jack said, trying to ignore Warren. ¡°If this goes sideways, you¡¯re going to need to take down number two as well.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she won¡¯t have to,¡± Jenkins said as his crawler snuck in with weapons raised.

    With a mental push, the drone launched three rounds into the target¡¯s chest. Seeing minimal damage, it turned and skittered away at high speed to draw the creature from its post.

    The rhino-like guard screamed in rage and raced after its attacker. Jack now understood why maximum force was the preferred method of killing a Raak¡¯Shee. In seconds, the alien creature crossed the snow and was easily gaining on the lone crawler.

    Before it could figure out why its partner had abandoned his post, the remaining guard¡¯s head exploded in a burst of red light. True to her word, Cecile had deposited the strike directly into its eye. Unable to continue fighting without a brain, the alien sunk to the ground, screaming in reflex as it died.

    The first Raak¡¯Shee heard the explosion and whipped around, tearing through the snow in defiance of his partner¡¯s death. Finding nothing but a rapidly cooling corpse, it searched frantically for a target. Its rage was so all-consuming, Jack literally watched the world turn red for the creature.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°One more,¡± Jack said, worried they would be discovered.

    ¡°It¡¯s moving too fast. I can¡¯t line it up,¡± Cecile replied.

    ¡°Can you see it?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Can you see it?¡± he repeated more insistently.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Casting his vision into the Breaker, he moved out from cover and allowed himself to be seen by the creature. In predictable fashion, it charged the young optic. Jack raised his weapon, enabling the laser on both rifles while trying to aim.

    He wasn¡¯t going for fancy. Hell, he was barely even qualified to pull the trigger when compared with Nessa or Cecile, but if he hit the targets, the Raak¡¯Shee would die.

    Center mass, that was his target, and he was sticking to it.

    On Neilson¡¯s faceplate, small arrows helped guide her barrel to its target. She couldn¡¯t get a clear shot, but when an Optic and his AI told her where to aim, she took it seriously.

    A light on her HUD flashed, and she pulled the trigger. A round flew toward the creature at high speed, reaching out to touch the enemy from a mountain away.

    Jack had a front-row seat from multiple points of view as the incendiary round pierced its hide and released every ounce of latent heat stored within.

    Time seemed to slow as the creature drew closer. Its rhino-like face contorted in a mixture of rage and pain as heat consumed its body. The crimson glow of hellfire poured from its wounds and orifices until it screamed its last protest.

    Before it could take another step, the burned husk fell to the snow-covered ground and crumbled like a log roasted from the inside out.

    ¡°You see this shit?¡± Alec shouted, ¡°Neilson just turned this thing into an overcooked marshmallow, and we¡¯re just supposed to keep fighting?¡±

    ¡°I kinda cheated,¡± she said. ¡°Jack was guiding the shot.¡±

    ¡°I just want to know why you didn¡¯t use the Vixen,¡± Warren groused. ¡°It was closer than either of you and I had a better angle.¡±

    ¡°Who said I didn¡¯t use its vantage as well?¡± Jack asked, stepping out from cover and beginning the climb to the door. ¡°Besides, the camera is nice, but nothing compared to eyes.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, whatever.¡±

    Close inspection of the door showed it wasn¡¯t designed to open from the outside, which was yet another thing Alec used to constantly reinforce his certainty that the mission would go off the rails. If he were to be believed, things started going sideways when they crossed the gorge and had only gone downhill since.

    ¡°Would you just shut the fuck up?¡± Nessa exclaimed, ¡°I understand you enjoy complaining, but the rest of us are trying to think. So please, shut up and help us figure it out instead of insisting they should¡¯ve designed a fire exit with us in mind.¡±

    ¡°Which means things have gone off the rails and we can¡¯t get in, right?¡± Alec shot back.

    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t. Some of us have the keys to this particular castle.¡±

    ¡°Oh really? And who would that be?¡±

    ¡°Me and you.¡±

    ¡°Well damn, it appears I left my magic keys back in my cabin,¡± he replied, patting his armor like he was searching for something, ¡°I guess I should just pop back up to the ship and get them, silly me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, for fu¡­ move,¡± she growled, shoving the Dragoon away from the door. ¡°How the hell does he not remember that he has powers to handle this sort of thing?¡±

    Grumbling curses in a language none of them understood, Nessa flicked a wrist, and a hilt dropped from her armor to rest comfortably in her hand. With a thought, she sparked the weapon to life in the shape of a short knife and slammed it into the frame.

    ¡°So when you said you had the key, you were just being a smartass?¡± Alec asked as the Breaker cut.

    ¡°No shit Sherlock.¡±

    ¡°How do you figure I could¡¯ve gotten in?¡±

    ¡°You have a pair of punch blades in your suit, do you not? Better yet, the door is a mechanical device and falls within your scope of control, right?¡± She said, stepping back from the smoldering portal.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to know about those blades. They are kind of a last resort thing.¡±

    ¡°Well, when you ask the quartermaster about them in front of us, it¡¯s kind of hard to miss,¡± Jenkins said, recalling his crawler.

    ¡°Not only that, but we know you well enough to know you¡¯d never be caught without a melee option. After the last mission, I¡¯m pretty sure most of us brought at least one toy,¡± Warren chimed in. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if one or two of us even have a few non-Light-based weapons.¡±

    ¡°Cut the chatter, guys,¡± Jack interrupted. ¡°Command, this is Turaspeir. We have breached the door and are entering the facility.¡±

    ¡°Copy that Turaspeir. Remember; secure if you can, destroy if not.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    Dropping his connection to the command channel, Jack looked at his soldiers. The last time they dove into the belly of the beast, they¡¯d walked away with a loss. He was absolutely determined today wouldn¡¯t be a repeat performance.

    They were highly trained and highly motivated. They were AHF soldiers, ready to take on anything.

    Unfortunately, they were once again entering a place where Light was in short supply. And this time, he was terrified of what that meant for his squad.

    ¡°Alright boys and girls, let¡¯s get after it.¡± Jack said, fingering the rifle in his hands.

    ¡°When you don¡¯t have a choice, why not?¡± Dave replied, stepping up to pull on one of the convenient handholds recently carved into the surface of the door, ¡°But even if we did, these bastards took one of our worlds. They¡¯re gonna regret that decision.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Alec said, suit flashing orange with a fresh infusion of power.

    ¡°Neilson and Alexander, I¡¯m leaving you in the comms channel. If the enemy tries to flank us, your job is to eliminate the threat quickly. If you can¡¯t, let us know so we can prepare.¡± Jack explained, questing out with his senses and into the cavernous factory.

    Fortunately, the facility had cameras that would enable him to see from virtually every angle. Their lifeless eyes didn¡¯t provide the same feeling as looking through mortal ones, but they were easier to loop into a single frequency.

    Jack picked once frequency to act as surveyance and threaded it through every camera he could find. Effectively turning himself into a mock security hub.

    With a nod from his squad leader, Dave activated a low power shield and stepped wordlessly into the hallway beyond.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 77

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly my point. How can we trust these soldiers if they have no civilian oversight? Do you realize that one of those Phantoms could walk up to both of us right now and kill us?¡±

    ¡°I do, but do you realize the number of illnesses we permanently wipe out of existence because of the same group?¡± ¨C From Race to the Senate, Senatorial Debates 3265.

    ¡°What do they use this place for?¡± Alec asked as they crept down a reinforced stone hallway as quietly as possible. Occasional roughly cut offshoots led into meandering depths and gave more than a little support to his belief that this structure had been here long before humans claimed it.

    ¡°To manufacture the Serum,¡± Nessa replied, brushing gauntleted fingers along the wall, ¡°Though, why the tunnel of a factory has so many doors is beyond me.¡±

    Jack almost would¡¯ve preferred if the hallways were dark, mysterious things filled with shadows that seemed endless in their depths. Instead, every inch was well lit to an almost unnatural degree. So bright and sterilized, it reminded him of Algol and the building titled ¡®medical.¡¯

    It was a comparison with no pleasant memories.

    He scanned through various viewpoints, expecting more of the same empty corridors he¡¯d seen before. Unlike previous checks, this time he found an injured enemy combatant resting fitfully.

    The enemy soldier was lying on a pile of haphazardly stacked mattresses, injured and unable to fight. Jack didn¡¯t want to attack the sleeping Raak. Killing an enemy that could not defend itself was cowardly. Unfortunately, he understood that leaving an enemy alive and at their backs was stupid and would almost certainly cause issues down the line.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got him,¡± Nessa said after Jack told the group about the Raak¡¯Shee. Motioning to Candice, the pair crept silently into the room. ¡°Just keep an eye out and make sure nothing hears us.¡±

    As they approached, threads of power snaked out from the Binder¡¯s armor and around the creature¡¯s body. The cables tightened, constantly adding pressure to the already injured alien.

    Nessa drew her weapons and shaped the blades into combat knives before placing them against its throat. Receiving a nod from Candice, she struck.

    They cut deep, slicing through skin, muscle, and bone as they made the quick journey through its neck. Not to be outdone, Candice¡¯s threads of yellow energy tightened well past what its skin could withstand. In a matter of seconds, the two women had torn the creature apart.

    ¡°Guys, come check this out,¡± Alec said, interrupting the silent yet brutal scene. ¡°Is any of this standard issue?¡±

    Across the hall, the dragoon stood in a room absolutely stuffed with half-finished gadgets and weapons. Inside, Jack noted a workboard with a complex drawing of each spectral frequency and how it related to each specific power. Under the image, the word ¡®Crossover?¡¯ was written in bold letters with an extremely complex mathematical formula beneath.

    ¡°Actually, no¡­ none of this is standard. At least, it isn¡¯t standard yet,¡± Alec said, flipping through a holographic schematic in the air and answering his own question. ¡°This must be where they make the new toys. Look at this one. The outer casing seems like it attaches to someone¡¯s armor.¡±

    Digging deeper into the drawing, he continued, ¡°What¡¯s really odd is this one. These symbols represent multiple frequencies of Light. It proves that the math for processing Aegis Light is much different from the math of a Phantom.¡±

    ¡°So, what am I compatible with?¡± Dave asked, poking at a machine, trying to understand its function.

    ¡°According to this, it should be possible for you to layer your power on top of mine and Thea¡¯s,¡± Jenkins stated, ¡°But I¡¯ve never seen anything that suggests it is possible before today.¡±

    They cut the conversation short when the sound of heavy footfalls pounded outside the chamber. Within a heartbeat, silence spread across the group like a blanket tossed on a campfire. With as much stealth as they could manage, they moved out of the potential field of vision.

    Grabbing a half-finished machine from the workbench, Jack flung it across the room. The resulting clang created an avalanche of sound that caused the invaders to charge into the workshop to investigate.

    When a pair of Raak crossed the threshold, they didn¡¯t notice the blue barrier that sprang into existence behind them. But even if they did, they wouldn¡¯t have cared. It was time to fight, and they believed wholeheartedly they could win against seven human soldiers.

    The first alien threw its head back and screamed in rage, not noticing the lines of power whipping through the air. Its lack of situational awareness was quickly rectified as one of those lines coiled around its throat like a predatory snake.

    Before the garrote could tighten, the second guard grabbed a red-bladed hand-ax from its hip and threw it at Candice.

    An instant before the weapon hit her, a shield of blue light sprang into existence. The weapon clattered to the ground and Nessa dashed in with both weapons drawn, blades forming even as she readied to strike.

    Enraged that its partner was still bound and choking, the second guard swung a fist and forced the Breaker to flip backward to dodge. Dropping a weapon, she sprung back up from the impromptu backflip with her free hand and away from the creature.

    Alec raised his weapon and fired a mini-Gatling at its chest, further distracting the Raak¡¯Shee. The rounds penetrated its hide, but the thick skin stood up well against the Dragoon¡¯s barrage.

    Covering his eyes with one hand, the alien reached down to his belt and unhooked a large double-bladed ax that glowed red with heat as it reached armor-melting levels.

    Armed and pissed off, the Raak¡¯Shee attacked.

    Nessa dropped to her knees to avoid a horizontal chop that would have probably cleaved her in half. When fighting an opponent this size, the secret was finesse, and that was something she had in spades.

    Inside the enemy¡¯s guard, she sprang to her feet. If she didn¡¯t kill it now, she risked trading her body for a single attack. She slammed the knife into its side and commanded the blade to elongate.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    It gasped in pain as the foreign blade grew, carving a path through its body. Before it could react, the tip of Nessa¡¯s weapon exploded from its opposite shoulder, deadening the limb from further use. But even if it hadn¡¯t, the fight was long gone from the Raak. It slumped down to the floor, its organs a mess of bloody ribbons as it sighed its last agonizing breath.

    She breathed heavily as the adrenalin faded and left the faint taste of copper in her mouth. Across the room, one of Jenkins¡¯s Crawlers dragged the body of the first alien away from the door. Apparently, she had missed the other half of the fight.

    ¡°Come on, Walker, help me pull this one away from the door,¡± Jack said, grabbing one of the Raak¡¯Shee¡¯s feet. ¡°If they catch wind of what happened here, we¡¯re screwed.¡±

    With the help of their armor, the two soldiers dragged the two-thousand-pound beast out of the immediate field of view. There was nothing of value to the Raak in this room, and so there would be no reason for the enemy to go inside.

    ¡°Does anyone actually know what the Serum producers look like, or are we just shooting in the dark?¡± Alec asked, glancing into another doorway.

    ¡°Not really, but I assume our HUD¡¯s will let us know when we see it. Can¡¯t be too easy to hide something like that,¡± Dave said, holding the point position as they worked their way down the hall.

    What he said was both true and unsettling. How were they supposed to know what they were looking for if they didn¡¯t know what to look for? While Jack felt he would instinctively know the machine without Bob¡¯s help, that was not a guarantee.

    Dave jumped back in alarm after turning down a poorly lit hallway, signaling for everyone to step back and retreat to the last room they¡¯d found. Once inside, he raised his faceplate and spoke without his armor¡¯s radio.

    ¡°Jack, why in the hell didn¡¯t you catch those two guards up there?¡± He hissed through his teeth, ¡°I about shit myself when I saw them. Hell, if they¡¯d seen me, we would have the whole building on high alert right now.¡±

    Surprised and ashamed he¡¯d missed not one, but two enemy combatants, Jack focused on a camera angle that looked down the hallway in question. What he saw was a pair of hulking Raak¡¯Shee standing guard over a door.

    The reason they hadn¡¯t seen Dave was immediately apparent as he watched both guards tap distractedly on handheld tablets. When Jack dropped into their vision, he was amused to find one guard playing some sort of game while the other was occupied with a video.

    ¡°Neither is paying attention right now,¡± Jack said, reaching over and sliding Dave¡¯s faceplate shut, ¡°But you¡¯re right, I screwed up. Any suggestions on how to move on from here?¡±

    He looked around and found nothing but confusion. It seemed that, embarrassingly, nobody planned for this eventuality. And sadly, that number included himself.

    ¡°I can send in one of my Crawlers as a distraction again,¡± Jenkins said, already funneling Light into the spiderlike machine.

    ¡°Too much noise. If we start the fight like that, we will have the whole building on us, like Alec on beer,¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°We can strangle them,¡± Candice started. ¡°I could send in a pair of lines to tie them up and if they survive, Nessa can go and murder the shit out of them.¡±

    ¡°That could work,¡± Nessa replied with a grin, ¡°But I think the whole question is about to become moot. Notice anyone missing?¡±

    With a start, Jack whipped his head around to do a quick headcount. Sure enough, a member of their squad had gone missing; Thea.

    Immediately focusing on her vison, Jack watched in silent horror as the woman he loved moved silently through the shadows. She hugged the wall as she traveled, ensuring the active camo in her armor had something to copy. While the camo feature was available to everyone, only the Phantoms could use its fullest potential.

    Motioning for everyone to hurry, they stacked up against the corner of the hallway. He fully believed she would be safe, but it didn¡¯t stop the primal fear running through his veins. As he nervously flicked between viewpoints, he watched her progress in tense anticipation.

    ~~**~~

    Ten more steps. Thea thought as she closed the distance to her targets. Ten more perfectly silent steps toward a pair of rhino things that could rip me limb from limb. On the bright side, if I die, I won¡¯t have to listen to Jack complain about how reckless this was.

    She hoped beyond hope Raak¡¯Shee soldiers were just as easily lulled into complacence as humans during the mind-numbing assignment of guard duty. If they were, their attention would be on almost anything other than the task at hand.

    As it turned out, they were exactly like human soldiers.

    The guard on the left grunted to his partner and held up his device to show what was on the screen. Apparently, it was so interesting, the guard on the right looked away from his device and immediately shoved a hand into his pants.

    One more step.

    Her foot scuffed, and she froze in fear. Thankfully, the sound was not as loud as she thought, or perhaps the two soldiers were much too interested in the device to worry about such an insignificant noise.

    Standing behind them, she drew on the well of power inside her and reversed the healing nature of the ability. If Jack were there, he would say that she was using the low end of her spectrum of Light rather than the high, but the science didn¡¯t matter to her.

    In her mind, the power of a Phantom was like a coin; impossible to use both sides simultaneously, but still two parts of a whole. When she wanted to heal, her ability to harm was nullified.

    But if she needed to kill¡­

    A sickly green Light danced between her fingers as she reached for the exposed skin at the two warrior¡¯s necks. Standing at that angle, she caught a glimpse of what was distracting the pair. Unsurprised, yet still disgusted, she saw two naked rhino-like things wrestling in a pit of mud.

    Well¡­ that lives in my head forever now.

    Her hands shot forward, grabbing both creatures and sending her power¡ªand mind¡ªinto their bodies.

    The first and most important task was to find the tangled web of electrical impulses that passed for a nervous system in this species and sever it. In her training, they made it very clear that most bipedal creatures had similar physiologies, and it turned out that the Raak¡¯Shee were no exception to that rule.

    The nauseating green energy took shape as countless microscopic scalpels and began the grim task of slicing through their spinal cords. A year ago, she believed a process like this one would take hours. And while that belief still held true for healing a creature, execution was much faster.

    The newly branded paraplegics slumped to the ground under their own massive weight. Not willing to leave an enemy alive, or in a state of permanent disability, she became an angel of death and took their lives. With another exertion of will, she found their hearts and cut each artery from the organ in question.

    The entire process took less than five heartbeats, but in that time she came to understand, for the first time, why she and others like her were called Phantoms.

    ~~**~~

    Jack watched in grim fascination as Thea killed the two guards. He always understood what her Corps did in concept, but this was the first time he¡¯d seen her power used offensively.

    It was terrifying, and it was impressive.

    ¡°Alfson, that was more than a little reckless,¡± he chastised, ¡°But¡­ you solved a problem and you did it without revealing that we are here.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Someone had to do the dirty work. Since you guys were just standing there arguing over why different methods wouldn¡¯t work, I took care of it,¡± she shot back, refusing to be scolded for something that was successful, ¡°Now, if you don¡¯t mind getting off your collective asses, we need to stash these bodies and figure out what they were hiding¡­ other than the rhino porn.¡±

    ¡°Oh, gross!¡± Nessa exclaimed, reconnecting her comm at the exact wrong moment. ¡°I turn my radio off for one second, and you sick assholes start talking about rhino porn? Come on Alec, where is the line?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t us!¡± The Dragoon defended. ¡°Dave and I were watching regular porn.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ so¡­ like two straight people wearing socks and doing it missionary?¡± Warren asked.

    ¡°Nah,¡± Dave said, grunting as he started dragging a body, ¡°Alec is into this thing where one dresses up like a pig and the other like a frog¡­ it¡¯s weird¡­¡±

    ¡°That frog girl had her social media on the truck stop door. Am I supposed to just ignore such a golden opportunity?¡± Alec asked.

    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s what reasonable people do,¡± Nessa said. Casually chopping an arm off one corpse, she turned to throw it through a nearby door and froze. ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    On an elevated table in the middle of the room was something they recognized immediately.

    The unmistakable body of Unranked Officer Benjamin Hargrave.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 78

    ¡°Sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing. These people are fools who can¡¯t see the forest for the trees. Do they not realize what the men and women in the military provide for them? Or do they just despise them because it is convenient or popular? Truth be told, they have no clue just how far our soldiers go to keep them safe. After all, the best military presence is one you don¡¯t even know you need.¡± ¨C From an interview with Albert Mayer.

    ¡°Is he¡­ dead?¡± Jenkins asked, closing the door behind him. Remembering they were technically in enemy territory, he took a moment to possess the control panel and engage the locks.

    At first glance, it felt like the portal had entirely too much protection, but considering the room¡¯s occupant, they understood.

    ¡°He¡­ Can¡¯t be. He¡¯s an Unranked Officer. Shit, he¡¯s THE Unranked Officer,¡± Nessa said, staring slack-jawed at the head of her corps. ¡°How in the hell is this even possible? We saw him yesterday.¡±

    She walked up to the table and stared into the unseeing eyes of a corpse. She¡¯d only met him a few times, but each interaction left her feeling like he was like a supernova contained inside a thin sheet of metal. How someone, or something, could have not only killed him but left the body intact, baffled her.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a prison. It¡¯s another workshop.¡± Alec said, opening his faceplate to allow in the cool, fresh air.

    Along the walls, various workbenches were home to more non-standard equipment. Unlike the last room, every module here was complete and labeled with its function. In all, it was clearly the workspace of someone extremely organized.

    A primal part of Jack wanted to take some of the special weapons, hoping they would somehow make him more powerful. However, either from fear or respect, he knew doing so would have horrifying results.

    *click*

    On one wall, a hologram of the deceased officer sprang into being as a shocked Candice backed away. Before anyone could turn it off, it started talking:

    ¡°October tenth, 3260. The reconstruction of my body is as slow a process as always, but I believe this one to be far more formidable than the current model. With the help of the others, I¡¯ve been able to push my control from the Shapers Light into the Controller spectrum. I¡¯ve always had some innate ability to make the body I inhabit follow my commands regardless of the modules used, but with these new components, I¡¯ll be even stronger¡­ Perhaps even strong enough to use¡­¡±

    Jack explored as the recording played and eventually finding himself in front of a well-kept toolbox. Unlike every other set of tools he¡¯d ever seen, this one was nothing more than a series of rods that ranged in size. Upon closer examination, he saw the telltale gleam of a Light emitter buried in each base.

    ¡°Alec,¡± Jack called, walking over with a tool held out for the Dragoon to look at. ¡°Aren¡¯t there generally supposed to be tools at the end of tools?¡±

    ¡°Unless something has gone horribly wrong, yes. Usually, a Li-Tech tool has a little more frame¡­ maybe it¡¯s a screwdriver?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Lately, it¡¯s become more difficult to hold the monster back. He pushes at the bounds of my mind every day. If I had to give a comparison, I would call myself a modern-day Dr. Jekyll. However, unlike the tragic life of that tortured soul, my worse half holds the power of a god¡­¡±

    ¡°How often do you need thirty screwdrivers? The only things here are just handles. Despite the age of this recording, this place has need used recently.¡± Jack pointed to their footprints in the layer of dust, then toward a pair of Raak¡¯Shee-sized prints scattered throughout the room.

    Almost like they had been looking for something.

    ¡°This place it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s basically an operating room,¡± Thea said, peering into the empty chest cavity, ¡°But instead of being brought here to heal, Hargrave looks like he was torn apart.¡±

    ¡°-Seventeenth, 3262. Albert just got back from another meeting with the Xan. They claim to have information on our power¡¯s origin. If they are telling the truth, we might even be able to meet the progenitors of our strength. Whether that is good or bad has yet to be seen¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not being torn apart. If someone had taken them out, the screw heads would be scratched,¡± Alec noted, inspecting the exposed inner workings with a critical eye. ¡°Maybe this is a new Hargrave?¡±

    ¡°Why in the hell would we need a second one?¡± Nessa scoffed. ¡°The man is by far the greatest threat to the AHF. Building a second one is just asking for trouble.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, Turaspeir, listen to me.¡±

    Jack¡¯s blood ran cold. The voice changed in cadence and called them by name.

    Turning to face the recording, the face remained impassive. However, even though the picture stayed the same, a recording from years before he even joined the AHF just addressed his squad.

    ¡°Albert helped me touch Light that would one day be here with you. So, listen to me closely. The threat we face is unlike anything we¡¯ve seen before. I have a few crossover weapons here, but not many. Grab what you can use, but do not use them unless you absolutely need to. We cracked the code, and I was able to force Optical Light to merge with most others. I¡¯m sorry, young binder, but yours is the one that I couldn¡¯t finish. You must protect this facility, you must protect the remains.¡±

    The hologram glitched briefly, then the voice resumed its previous cadence.

    ¡°What fascinates me most is the way life has adapted to some of these environments. I know it¡¯s not right, but we don¡¯t tell the Senate about every inhabited world we find. Just fifty years ago, the seven of us found intelligent life on a planet made of¡­¡±

    ¡°What the actual fuck was that?¡± Dave exclaimed.

    ¡°A sign that we need to keep moving,¡± Jack said, shaken but refusing to let it show. ¡°Look for something with the squad name on it. Apparently, he had that, but not our individual identities.¡±

    ¡°Well, they say time is a fickle mistress,¡± Nessa said, searching for the promised equipment.

    ¡°Resume Light Comm¡¯s only. No more open faceplate until we are back in a secure area. We have a mission and, apparently, it¡¯s much worse than we previously thought,¡± Jack reminded, sealing his helm before joining the others in the search.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    It didn¡¯t take long to find the equipment. Unfortunately, none of it was usable. Whoever found this room before them had also heard the recording and understood what it would mean if the soldiers got their hands on the gear in question.

    Everything was broken, bent, or some combination of the two.

    ¡°Well shit,¡± Dave surmised, accurately vocalizing the general mood.

    ¡°It is what it is,¡± Jack said, walking toward the door and motioning to Jenkins. ¡°We just have to make do.¡±

    He¡¯d taken pictures of the lab and would return if Command decided the information inside was of any genuine concern. The squad wouldn¡¯t torch a room full of equipment just because they could, especially if they didn¡¯t have to.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Hey Monroe, any Rhinos down there?¡± Dave asked, prying open the doors of an elevator shaft.

    There hadn¡¯t been any more sightings of the creatures, but there was ample evidence the building had many more inhabitants than they¡¯d found. The creatures had nearly destroyed the kitchens and tossed mattresses to the ground with no regard. Truth be told, the scene was closer to that of a crack house than an organized invading force.

    ¡°Just the two. Remember, drop one level and get to the stairwell ASAP. We will be waiting on the other side.¡± Jack replied.

    ¡°You realize this is damned near suicide, right?¡±

    ¡°Make a bubble of force to protect yourself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ oh whatever. If there are more than two waiting for me, I¡¯m blaming you.¡±

    The Aegis leaned back into the shaft, hoping beyond hope this little binder girl could hold him and his gear as well as she claimed. Sure, she¡¯d handled the canyon, but she was basically letting him fall at that point. Crossing his fingers and toes, he nodded to Hayward and took the first step down.

    He¡¯d repelled before, but it was always in a controlled training situation and with equipment he knew he could trust. This was different, sure he thought he could trust Hayward, but there was a nagging voice in his ear that kept telling him he was going to fall.

    ¡°Unclench your butthole Dave, I¡¯ve got a pretty solid track record for not dropping the people in my care. I know you don¡¯t believe me, but I have full control of this line,¡± she said, accentuating the point by pulling him away from the wall and dropping him the remaining ten feet.

    Her ability to stop on demand was perfect, but he couldn¡¯t deny that his armor was a little more¡­ moist from the experience.

    ¡°Unless, of course, you want to take the express train to the bottom? I can let you meet the shaft floor in about ten seconds if you don¡¯t start trusting me,¡± she finished, sending another pair of strands down to stabilize him further.

    ¡°No, no. I trust you, but if you drop me, I¡¯m going to drop you.¡±

    ¡°Been a long time since a cowboy offered me that particular treatment. You can¡¯t threaten me with a good time.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, that¡¯s not¡­ wait, hush up for a minute,¡± beyond the door, the big man could hear the rhythmic grunting of the Raak¡¯Shee language, ¡°Get ready for breech. Monroe, is everyone in position? You¡¯re going to need to punch through when I make the distraction.¡±

    ¡°And the fact that the door is locked?¡± Alec asked.

    ¡°Do we need to go through this again? Didn¡¯t you just find out that Nessa is a master locksmith? If you can¡¯t figure it out, let her pick the lock.¡±

    Dave waited¡­ in the dark¡­ hanging from a basket made of glowing yellow string that looked like it couldn¡¯t hold a kitten, much less him. If he fell, the entire mission would change.

    If he failed, he would be the one needing protection.

    ¡°West, we are in position and Walker has cut the hinges.¡±

    Jack¡¯s voice broke through the fog of self-pity and brought him back to the present. Yes, he¡¯d failed Ortiz. And yes, he would probably fail again one day. But for now, he would charge in like a pissed-off bull in a china shop.

    He pulled a skeletal greatsword from his back and called on his power. As if it were second nature, he funneled twenty percent of his energy into the weapon. Balling the other hand into a fist, a nearly invisible field of energy wrapped around his arm like the armor of a Roman Gladiator.

    The others talked about how easy it was to use their energy with rifles, but that had always been the toughest part for Dave. This power didn¡¯t want to harm, and he often found it very difficult to charge a firearm with his Light. Almost like the power itself knew what he was about to do.

    But this sword was a trick. The glasslike Light receptors in the hilt felt like the other receptors in his armor. However, the blade moved Light so that when power flowed through it, the tiny hexagrams that made up his shields turned on their side to create something like a saw.

    The Quartermaster explained it to him several times, but no matter how many times he broke the science down, Dave still couldn¡¯t understand how it worked. Apparently, those tooth-like protrusions were on a track that would spin when energy flowed through the blade. The more power he gave, the faster it would spin.

    Frankly, he bought it because it looked cool, and everyone knew that cool was the most important part.

    ¡°Get ready, I¡¯m breaking through in 5¡­ 4¡­ 3¡­¡±

    He left the last two numbers silent since he figured his squad knew how to count well enough. If Alec had an issue with it later, Dave would just buy him a beer to smooth it over.

    As delicately as he could, he created a small shield between the doors. When the timer hit zero, he pushed the field out with incredible force, slamming open the doors and exposing the hallway beyond. So far, every fight down here had been all hush-hush.

    But this time was going to be much different.

    Candice flung him into the clearing and into the center of three Raak¡¯Shee guards that were still in shock from the elevator exploding open.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± he cursed over the comm.

    Landing in a crouch, he raised his shielded arm and pushed the energy outward in a burst of force. Like a traditional shield bash, the attack was primarily to stun the enemy. Dave could personally attest that being struck by a translucent wall of force was not something most opponents could quickly recover from.

    The attack was so unexpected; it staggered two and knocked a third Raak¡¯Shee off his feet entirely.

    Dave sprinted toward the downed enemy, re-wrapped his arm in energy, and switched to a two-handed grip. With a powerful chop, he cut through the creature¡¯s foot¡ªand the floor beneath it¡ªlike a hot knife through butter.

    Nessa always chided him about his lack of speed or grace, but she didn¡¯t wield the equivalent of a five-foot chainsaw. Luckily for him, the barrier for entry on a weapon like this was incredibly low. While he could become truly dangerous with time and training, he was effective with almost none.

    The Raak¡¯Shee roared in pain and retaliated with a backhanded fist that should have crippled the puny human. Instead, all it could do was pound against the blue barrier of force. From the outside looking in, keeping up the barrier took no effort at all.

    If only the creature could see through his faceplate, it would know just how tough maintaining the barricade truly was.

    With a grunt that sounded like Raak¡¯Shee¡¯s speech, Dave tore his blade free from the ground. With an overhead chop, he repeated the cut and cleanly removed the arm that had so recently tried to break through his shield. Orange-tinted blood sprayed from the two grievous wounds as the alien fumbled for a weapon.

    Dave would be truly impressed if it survived the encounter.

    A wave of heat washed over his armor and caused his shield to flare to life. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw a twisted hole where the door into the hallway once stood.

    ¡°What the fuck did she use?¡± he yelled.

    Turning his back to his allies, he took a step backward and expanded the shield to protect the members of his squad. Ahead, the stunned aliens came to their senses while their injured comrade struggled to stand.

    ¡°She mixed concussion and incendiary disks,¡± Jack said, looking around the doorframe with his rifle raised.

    ¡°Good enough. Alec, use those punch blades of yours and help me take down these overgrown bulls,¡± Dave replied, turning his attention to the next enemy in line.

    ¡°Why not guns?¡± The Dragoon asked, spinning up the left Gatling. ¡°I got those in spades.¡±

    ¡°Can you take out a limb with it? If not, bladed weapons.¡± Nessa said, darting through a gap in Dave¡¯s shield on her way to face a creature. The breaker flowed like water as she danced to avoid various attacks while gripping a pair of un-energized hilts. On her back, a small drone clung tightly to her armor, taking shots where it could.

    As if to magnify her point, Jack placed three useless rounds into the alien¡¯s torso. Unsurprisingly, the bullets cut through the creature¡¯s skin, but its hide was so thick that the energy dissipated before it could do any real damage.

    ¡°Jenkins, Alfson, and I have backup on Walker. I need you to get that crawler over to the first target and execute it. Once done, focus on helping West and Morningwood.¡± The Sergeant ordered, sending a near-constant stream of fire at Nessa¡¯s target.

    ¡°Copy that.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 79

    ¡°Can anyone explain to me why we¡¯ve started working with these aliens? Yeah, you heard that right folks. The Unranked Officers created an alliance without the consent of the Human population. I say it¡¯s time we throw off the mantel of tyranny they cover us with and become our own people again.¡± ¨C From the Bucker Jarlson Tonight, July 8, 3265.

    The Crawler jumped off Nessa¡¯s armor and landed with a thump. Luckily, neither the landing nor the accompanying skitter of steel on stone were loud enough to be heard over the sounds of battle that filled the passage.

    What made a possessors¡¯ drones so impressive was their adaptability. Sometimes, a drone could be six feet tall with limbs to match. Other times, it could be tiny and capable of infiltrating the smallest of places.

    The best-kept secret about the Possessors was that it was often the same drone.

    Years ago¡ªand with science Jenkins could only dream of understanding¡ªOfficer Tobias integrated the drones with alien tech that allowed machines to absorb nearby raw materials quickly and efficiently. While it was a blatant theft of another civilization¡¯s technology, it was also the key factor behind a Possessor¡¯s ability to carry a significantly larger number of drones.

    With his mind cast into the Crawler as completely as he dared while in combat, Jenkins commanded the small machine to sprint across the floor. As it moved, he activated the absorption feature, setting it to draw from the world around it.

    The crawler reached its target and the knife-like legs pierced tough Raak¡¯Shee¡¯s skin, clawing its way up the alien¡¯s neck to begin its gruesome work. Jenkins pulled his mind out of the drone, leaving it with one last command before turning his attention elsewhere.

    He didn¡¯t want to watch what came next.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°I said Punch Blades!¡± Dave shouted, shield bashing through an opponent¡¯s defense. After the initial shock of his attack, the two remaining enemy soldiers quickly recovered and were trying to defend themselves against the greater numbers. He knew if this wasn¡¯t done and over with soon, the fight would become more and more costly for the humans.

    Sadly, the alien was ready for the bash and dodged just before it could land. While he could expand the field to hit the Raak anyway, it wasn¡¯t worth the time he would be unprotected while the barrier reformed.

    The Raak¡¯Shee growled and attacked in retaliation, its ax carving a wicked line of heat through the air as it hurtled toward Dave¡¯s chest. Seeing this, Jack swung his barrel and fired three rounds into its gut before returning to his previous target.

    Dave pulled the blanket of Light across his chest, thickening it with hardly a moment to spare.

    The ax drove into his shield, forcing the Aegis to take a step back from the sheer weight of the attack. Unfortunately, Dave¡¯s concentration was so consumed by the blow, he wasn¡¯t paying attention to his allies.

    With Dave distracted, the Raak¡¯Shee grabbed a hand ax from its belt and threw it at Alec with all the power it could bring to bear.

    The bladed weapon tore through the air and buried itself in the Dragoon¡¯s shoulder. As the burning metal tore through armor and flesh, he screamed and staggered back in pain.

    Angry that it hadn¡¯t killed the soldier, the enemy redoubled its efforts and pounded on Dave¡¯s shield repeatedly, not giving the Aegis the heartbeat he needed to recover his wits or his footing.

    ¡°And how the FUCK are punch blades going to drop this thing?¡± Alec yelled, retracting one cannon and replacing it with the small energy weapon.

    ¡°Do I look like I know? I block, you stab. Just find a way to kill it,¡± Dave replied, taking a chance and opening a hole in the shield just enough to swing upward and through the beast¡¯s forearm. The problem with bringing a big, metallic sword to a Li-Tech fight was that the weapon¡¯s core could not pass through the barrier unhindered. Light could pass freely, but anything with more mass than his shield could not.

    ¡°Alec, stab where I shoot. I¡¯ll make sure you have an opening,¡± Jack said, plugging the creature with another round. As much as he wanted to keep helping Jenkins and Thea against the injured enemy, he had to trust in their ability to handle it by themselves.

    Well past the point of rational thought, the Raak¡¯Shee kicked a severed arm at Alec as it continued trying to break through Dave¡¯s defense.

    ¡°Care to speed it up a hair? Every hit drains me just a little more.¡±

    In response, the Dragoon rushed past the alien¡¯s defense and swung his gauntleted hand up and into its throat. When it connected with the scorch mark left by Jack¡¯s weapon, a blade of orange Light exploded out from his fist.

    The weapon was only there for a second, but the harm was done.

    A burbling waterfall of sickly orange blood poured from the wound as the Raak¡¯Shee¡¯s expression twisted from rage to horror. It dropped its weapon and grasped at its throat, desperately attempting to staunch the bleeding.

    ¡°Move!¡± Thea shouted, hands glowing as she grabbed Alec by the shoulders and moved him out of the way. Finally reaching the dying creature, she slapped her palms against its torso and a torrent of energy passed into its body.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Dave wasn¡¯t exactly sure what she was doing, nor did he particularly care. All he knew for a fact was that they¡¯d won all three fights, and the final enemy combatant would be dead in a few short seconds. He stumbled toward the wall and slid down, nearly passing out as the adrenaline left his system.

    ¡°Alfson, care to explain what you¡¯re doing?¡± Jack asked, the voice a bare echo in Dave¡¯s mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m stabilizing him,¡±

    Dave perked up. He¡¯d worked so hard to kill the thing and now she was bringing it back?

    Looking at the bodies, he saw one had its head sawed off. Apparently, Jenkins¡¯ drone had done its part and done it well.

    The other was in a similar shape. Instead of the damage coming from a drone, the crimson glow of Nessa¡¯s power slowly faded from what remained of the large body. When he really thought about it, the fact that these abilities let humans go toe to toe with creatures of nightmare was truly amazing.

    And terrifying.

    ¡°If I can bring him back from the edge of death, we might get some information.¡±

    Why wasn¡¯t she tending to Alec? He¡¯d been wounded, and she was just letting him sit there. Why in the hell would that damned Phantom focus on the enemy instead of healing his friend?

    It was to teach Dave a lesson, wasn¡¯t it? It was to prove he wasn¡¯t good enough to protect anyone, and she was taking it out on the guy that never stopped supporting him.

    He deserved this.

    ¡°And when he tries to rip off our heads the moment he isn¡¯t actively dying?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t¡­ Well, a better way to put it is that he can¡¯t. I¡¯ve already severed all the muscles and tendons in his extremities. The only thing he can do is talk.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a translator?¡±

    Dave slowly climbed to his feet and half walked, half fell toward his friend. Alec had fallen after delivering his final blow, but the short distance felt like miles between the two friends.

    But Thea was right there. And instead of healing his friend, she was saving the enemy.

    ¡°I do,¡± Jenkins said, placing a small flat module on its chest.

    The Aegis didn¡¯t give a shit about healing his enemy. Kneeling down beside Alec, he tried to form a barrier inside the wound to hold in the remaining blood.

    It wasn¡¯t flowing out¡­ was Alec already dead?

    A wave of dizziness washed over him as he fell to the ground with a clang. He¡¯d never felt like this before. Had he overdone it? Every part of him was tired and sore, but he wasn¡¯t done.

    He had to keep fighting; he had to keep¡­

    ~~**~~

    ¡°What the hell were you doing?¡± Jack asked Dave when he woke up nearly an hour later.

    He looked refreshed, but his physical appearance had very little to do with how much energy he used in active combat.

    ¡°She left him, so I tried to save him¡­ Please, is Alec still alive?¡± he said, levering himself into a sitting position.

    ¡°Yeah, I patched him up before getting to the Raak. Did you really think I would let one of our own die?¡± Thea asked, sitting on a stool a few feet away.

    ¡°Kinda, I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not sure what I thought.¡±

    ¡°You pushed yourself too hard. Are you ok?¡± Jack asked, quickly casting his vision into the Dave¡¯s and checking his vitals.

    Physically, there were no broken bones or ruptured organs. Hell, Thea had even removed his bruises before he woke up.

    But the toils of battle are often far from physical.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright. Alec, you got a beer?¡± He said, trying to perk up enough to hide his inner turmoil.

    They were resting in yet another empty room along a hallway. The mission was mostly predictable at this point, but the break was needed. For his part, Jack was constantly casting his vision throughout the building, trying to stay out of harm¡¯s way, but that clearly wasn¡¯t always possible.

    The two country boys talked quietly as Jack walked out into the hallway and down another. At the end of the corridor sat a plain steel doorway, perfectly identical to all the others in the complex.

    However, unlike the others, this one felt¡­ wrong.

    He couldn¡¯t tell what unnerved him so much; was there something about the hallway itself, or was it simply his mind playing tricks on him? Everything about the passage seemed to radiate fear and sorrow in waves.

    Jack reached out with his power, searching in vain for anything inside that could take in Light.

    ¡°Is it time to go?¡± Dave asked, walking over to the Sergeant with his helmet under his arm.

    ¡°Do you feel that?¡± he replied, raising his faceplate.

    ¡°Feel what?¡±

    ¡°Anger, fear, betrayal, pain¡­ Hate.¡±

    ¡°Not towards you, or anyone else on the team,¡± he said, pointing a thumb toward the room of soldiers behind him. ¡°I might say those things about an ex or two, but this crew is my family.¡±

    ¡°Right, you¡¯re¡­ right. Go get everyone ready to head out, and put your damned headgear back on,¡± he instructed, resealing his own and trying to put the uneasy feeling out of his mind.

    As he walked, a faint but putrid odor invaded his air system. It wasn¡¯t strong, but as he got closer to the door at the end of the hall¡­ it grew much more noticeable.

    ¡°Monroe, is everything ok with your squad? You haven¡¯t moved in nearly an hour.¡± Hawkins said, not so subtly requesting an update.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine, just taking a breather, sir. We were just about to investigate something.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Check back in thirty.¡±

    With the squad gathered behind him, Jack pushed the portal open. The stench that was so faint before rolled out in a wave of putrescence that only a freezer full of meat left to rot in the sun for several days could match.

    Inside was utter carnage.

    The room was home to a single, now deceased, occupant. In its center, all that was left of the unrecognizable victim was down held on a star-shaped table. A dry silvery substance, probably the creature''s blood, covered the floor, walls, and parts of the ceiling.

    ¡°Oh my god, what the fuck,¡± Dave gagged, turning away in search of fresh air, retching as the smell worked its way into his ventilation.

    ¡°Looks like a prisoner,¡± Jack replied, looking around to confirm there were no enemies nearby.

    ¡°Was this us, or them?¡± Nessa asked, stepping in and activating the lights.

    ¡°No clue,¡± Jack whispered, following her into the grave of a being he¡¯d never met.

    The skin¡ªwhat little remained¡ªwas the color of tarnished silver. He could see the glint of metallic bones in places where muscles were ripped away from flesh. A cart to the side of the table held various surgical instruments and bowls containing the dry remains of organs.

    There was no convenient recording that might explain what happened here, but it didn¡¯t take a genius to spot a scene of torture.

    ¡°Bob, what species is this?¡± Jack asked, trying to gather information for command.

    ¡°The lack of a face makes this more difficult, but the physiology points toward the XanRai¡¯d. Although, why there is a prisoner from a race that we are supposedly recent allies with, I haven¡¯t the foggiest clue. Jack, you need to leave. Let the tortured dead lie.¡±

    If the room hadn¡¯t already been screaming for him to do so, the fact that even the AI was asking made it clear it was time to go. Now, the wrongness made sense. An atrocity did indeed happen here, and it was truly horrifying.

    They weren¡¯t disturbing a prison cell; they were disturbing a grave. This sight¡ªeven if it was an enemy¡ªsolidified his conviction. If he hadn¡¯t been convinced of the need to destroy this place before, he was now.

    He didn¡¯t care who it was or what race this person belonged to. He didn¡¯t even care if his captain thought he was out of line. This was wrong, plain and simple. That someone had inflicted this level of pain on a sentient being told him everything he needed to about this place.

    If turning this factory into a crater meant the dead could finally rest, so be it.

    I will rise. Above this, I will rise.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 80

    ¡°We first encountered the Raak¡¯Shee on a dry world with about one and a half times the gravity of Earth. Based on our research, they evolved from some sort of theropod with an incredibly dense epidermis. Their long limbs and wide body structure provide further proof that the Raak''Shee homeworld has always been a desolate rock.¡± ¨C From ¡®The Universe and you; an in-depth look at known intelligence,¡¯ by DR. Theresa Kos

    Warren and Cecile lay under the snow on top of the mountain. As much as it sucked, neither would dream of refusing this duty, especially since they both understood the most strategic location for a pair of long-range fighters was in the open where they could best use their reach.

    But knowing why you were on a specific part of the battlefield didn¡¯t make it any less boring. Sure, there was the occasional check-in to confirm everyone was still alive, but the rest of the time was nothing more than staring at the same mountain for hours on end.

    Neither particularly wanted to be on the ground. Laying in the deepening snow while the cold slowly crept in wasn¡¯t the definition of a good time for anyone.

    ¡°How long do you think they¡¯ll be in there?¡± Warren asked for the third time that hour. He didn¡¯t physically move, but the plethora of drones scattered around the valley twitched in nervous energy every time he started getting antsy.

    ¡°As long as it takes,¡± she replied, ¡°If you¡¯re that bored, you can pull the thumb out your ass and try to hunt down a few more Raak.¡±

    ¡°No thanks, you¡¯re doing a wonderful job of killing our enemies. If I joined in, you would lose out on the incredible amount of fun you¡¯re having in that category.¡±

    She really was doing a fantastic job of picking off any enemy that dared show its face. They only needed his drones to act as an early warning system and to help pinpoint her exact shot. In the few brief hours they¡¯d been up there, the Breaker had killed at least twenty Raak¡¯Shee of various sizes.

    Could that number be higher if he was actively searching for the enemy with his vixens? Probably, but their mission wasn¡¯t to hunt down aliens. It was to make sure Jack and the rest of the squad didn¡¯t have to deal with any surprises from behind.

    ¡°Fine¡­ Could you at least send a drone to check on the status of the other squads?¡±

    ¡°Why? I have a better solution,¡± he said, switching from the local comm to the platoon channel. ¡°Sergeant Smith, this is Alexander. Requesting an update on the other squads? We would like to know how things are going and if we should redirect to help them.¡±

    Breaking her almost statuesque position of cheek to rifle stock, Cecile glared at him with a look that would shrivel the testicles of most men. He supposed he would be on that list too, if he cared that much about what she thought.

    ¡°Alexander, this is Smith. Do not break location for any reason. The other squads are veterans. You don¡¯t need to worry about them,¡± Smith said, closing the line and leaving the pair in silence.

    Warren¡¯s smug grin faltered when he saw that her resolute stare hadn¡¯t faded in the slightest.

    ¡°Fiiiine, I¡¯ll send out a Vixen and see what I can find, happy?¡± he said, rolling his eyes.

    Dropping his mind fully into a drone, he pulled away from a remote corner of the valley and into a search pattern of the surrounding area. Idly, he wondered if the enemy had sensors that could detect the small aircraft through the heavy snow.

    As long as nothing could pin down their location, whether or they could see his drones didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°The drone is searching in a spiral pattern from our supposedly secret factory door,¡± he said, increasing flight speed by powering down the weapons. ¡°I love how the secret door was so easy to find. I mean, think about it¡­ we knew about it because of the blueprints, but how long did it really take for these giant rhinos to find it? A week? A month? There is no way they spend more than a month inside the building with no clue it was there.¡±

    ¡°I hear you. It makes me glad we are out here pushing our environmental controllers to their max instead of walking into the obvious deathtrap¡­ See anything?¡±

    ¡°No human squads, but I see a small trail of Raak to the west. Best case, they are out for a little camping in the snow, worst case¡­ they are about to find our newly modified door.¡±

    ¡°Heading?¡±

    ¡°West-Northwest, 310 degrees. Elevation minus thirty-eight. Wind speed four miles per hour.¡±

    ¡°ETA?¡±

    ¡°At current travel speed, you will see them through the clearing at 312 degrees in five minutes. Total time till arrival, ten minutes.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°Even they take longer than the guy last night.¡±

    ¡°Do tell?¡±

    ¡°Maybe later. Right now, we have to lie on our bellies and be good.¡±

    Warren¡¯s laugh died in his throat as he got a better look at the group¡¯s leader. ¡°CC¡­ It¡¯s one of them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know. I didn¡¯t think you would warn me about humans.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ One of THEM. The things that killed Diego.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± fumbling through menus, she swapped back to squad comm. ¡°Jack, Jack! No, shut up. We don¡¯t have time for the formality crap. One of those things is closing in on the entrance.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Can you distract it?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°Do you remember what it did to the last human soldier that tried?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we killed it.¡±

    ¡°Not without losing Diego!¡± Warren shouted, tired of his friend missing the point. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you plan to get out of there, but you better hurry the hell up. This one has taken the shape of a Raak and it looks like it¡¯s ready to kick ass.¡±

    ¡°You have two mountaintops between you and it. Do your best to take it out by burying it in the terrain. If it sees you, run. Look for somewhere to hide where it can¡¯t find you. Neither of you is dying today.¡± Jack promised, racking his mind for a plan.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of promise from someone who isn¡¯t here,¡± Warren said, bringing the drone closer to the small group of enemy soldiers to better mark them on Neilson¡¯s HUD.

    ¡°If you can¡¯t kill it with the snow, you need to distract it by any means necessary. It can¡¯t reach us; we need more time. We¡¯ve found some¡­ disturbing things.¡±

    Warren switched back to their local channel and dug into the task at hand, ¡°Ok CC, no more playtime. I¡¯ve taken over your HUD and outlined the enemies. There are six just about to crest the ridge, not counting the big bad. I¡¯m going to take one, two, and three. Hopefully, killing its entourage will convince it to retreat.¡±

    ¡°You really think that?¡±

    ¡°No, but I can sure as shit hope.¡±

    ¡°Well then, sunshine, let¡¯s get to work.¡±

    Waiting for the aliens to walk into her line of sight, Cecile topped off the charge on several Light batteries. She knew each creature would take a significantly charged shot to take down. The only way to be fast enough between rounds was to ensure the power was already waiting for her. While molding large quantities of Light wasn¡¯t half the chore it was a year ago, she knew channeling that much power in a short time would really take it out of her.

    She watched Warren¡¯s drone through her scope as it flew from point to point, attempting to find the best firing angle. As much as they poked fun at each other for being in the rear of the battlefield, this man had taken his craft to the next level. He was so fully immersed in his equipment, impossible maneuvers were nearly commonplace.

    If she could spare the glance to look at his face, she knew it would be completely blank-¨Ca wall of nothingness. There was no part of his conscious mind inside his body, and the way he flew his drones proved that theory beyond a shadow of a doubt.

    ¡°They will be visible in thirty seconds,¡± he said, the robotic cadence suggesting he was synthesizing a voice rather than using his mouth, ¡°I have two more Vixens enroute. Targets selected, I¡¯m prepared to use every ounce of power I have to take them out.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got this. If we think the creature knows where we are after we kill the guards, we will move.¡±

    Numbers appeared over each of the alien¡¯s heads as they reached the clearing in the far-off distance. The moment the last of the seven figures broke the tree line, Cecile fired.

    Count your breaths, she thought to herself, falling into harmony with her rifle. With the first target squarely in her sights, she shaped the round and squeezed the trigger.

    An incredibly dense explosive round flew from her rifle at a speed that regular weapons could only hope to achieve. But the sharpshooter didn¡¯t have time to ponder her weapon or admire her handiwork. She simply had to know that both she and the rifle were one, and the first enemy was dead.

    Changing targets, she drained the remaining power from her first battery and part of a second, funneling it into the chamber of her rifle. Across the valley, enemy troops panicked and ducked for cover. Apparently, having your squad mate explode mid conversation was cause for alarm.

    Wimps.

    She loved the thrill of catching a moving target. Back home, she¡¯d been responsible for protecting her family¡¯s government-mandated farm from the things living in the wastes, and she¡¯d been damned good at her job.

    Having never broken her cycle of breathing, she squeezed the trigger once more.

    Before the second creature even hit the ground, she was sighting her third target.

    ¡°How are yours looking?¡± She asked in a tone she rarely allowed others to hear. Its flat, dead cadence expressed no emotion, and it was something the Breaker prided herself on. Unfortunately, the utter lack of passion scared the shit out of people.

    ¡°One down, two to go. The other Vixens missed their shot and need a moment to recharge.¡±

    Of course. The thought wasn¡¯t intentional, but when she pushed emotions from her mind, her tolerance for failure all but disappeared. It was part of the reason she tried not to talk when she was like this, but when faced with seven beings with a tendency to shake off damage, it was necessary.

    She wouldn¡¯t have any more fully charged batteries after the next shot, but a quick inventory of her remaining Light showed her last two cells were each at about half capacity. It sucked that she had used so much energy in those first two shots, but the idea of making her power stretch was worse.

    Should she reduce the power of the next round or use it all and be sure to punch through the enemy?

    Focused entirely on her targets, she didn¡¯t see how the shapeshifter reacted to the attacks. As she swung her muzzle in search of another target, she glimpsed the inky creature.

    Her blood ran as cold as the snow she lay on.

    It was staring at her.

    Lining up one last shot, she pumped as much power as she could into the round and squeezed the trigger. Knowing Warren¡¯s drones were more than capable of eliminating the last guard, she pulled her armored face from the weapon stock. Getting to her feet, she shook off a thick layer of snow and clipped her rifle to the mag-holster on her back.

    Sergeant Smith had nearly shit a kitten when she¡¯d asked for these toys. The number of times he repeated that ¡®a sniper had no use for landmines¡¯ was almost funny now that she thought back to it. Initially, he was right. She¡¯d only requested the instruments of destruction because she could.

    Unfortunately for her, he¡¯d been wrong.

    ¡°Take out that last rhino and let¡¯s get moving,¡± she said, unclipping the first mine from her armor, ¡°The big bad saw us. It knows where we are.¡±

    ¡°What are you about to do?¡±

    ¡°Set a trap.¡±

    Minutes later, the pair hiked along a game trail that led away from the valley. In total, Cecile laid four mines, strategically placing them with the help of her AI so the mountainside would drop when they detonated. If the creature got anywhere near their original nest, there was no way it could get to safety before being lost in the snow.

    For a second, she considered that she¡¯d gone a hair overboard. Then she remembered what happened to Ortiz and wondered if four were enough.

    ¡°There is a cave about two clicks away,¡± Warren said dreamily, his voice giving away the lack of attention he paid to the world around him.

    ¡°What about our tracks? Surely this thing is smart enough to follow some marks in the snow.¡±

    ¡°It will be a few hours before it gets here. Hopefully, our tracks will have faded by then. Smith says we should have more than enough snowfall for that.¡±

    She listened to his comforting bullshit and chose to go along with them. There was no way he felt as confident as he was trying to let on, but if it helped them escape¡­ it was worth it.

    ¡°Perfect,¡± she said cheerily. Now that the fighting was over, it was time to put away the murderer that lived in her head and bring back the girl that just wanted to survive. ¡°How deep is the cave? Can we actually get away from the cold and raise our visors, or is it basically a hole in the ground?¡±

    ¡°Big enough that someone could obsess over a ring for a while. I have wasps exploring it now, but the first chamber opens up to a much larger complex beneath.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to take it,¡± she said, falling quiet while Warren explained the plan to Jack. The squad leader wasn¡¯t happy about them being seen, but it was part of the game, and they knew it. If a sniper ever got discovered and had the chance to escape, that soldier had a responsibility to disappear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go find our precious,¡± Warren said, stepping onto the path and beginning their trek to safety.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 81

    ¡°Distinguished congresspeople, I¡¯m here today to talk about our new LT-N.O.V.A. This high-speed, high-powered attack vehicle can be operated by only two soldiers. With this tool, your army can rain pain on the enemy from above. Equipped with a full array of Light receivers, it can recharge itself in combat with no issues.¡±

    ¡°You do know that soldiers also fight at night, right?¡± ¨C Sales pitch to the senate, Phoenix, The Capitol

    ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve found something that is, well¡­ disturbing is the only way to put it. But that¡¯s not even our biggest concern at the moment. Our spotters are being hunted by another of the creatures that killed Ortiz,¡± Jack explained to his Platoon leader after getting the information from Warren and Cecile, ¡°They found temporary cover in a system of caves, but truth be told, they need extraction.¡±

    ¡°That can be arranged. How¡¯s your progress reclaiming the control room?¡± Hawkins replied after of few moments, ¡°We need an ETA, the other teams are close to mission success and you need to be ready when they are.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just part of the process, sir. We are systematically working our way down into the building.¡±

    ¡°We? Are you moving as a single group?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. For an enemy like this, concentration of force is best practice.¡±

    The radio, yet again, went silent as the Lieutenant presumably spoke with Captain Griffin privately. A few moments later, he returned with new instructions.

    ¡°Divide into fireteams, we are too close to the wire for you to search every room as a group. Do you at least know the target location?¡±

    ¡°As long as it didn¡¯t move from the schematics, yes. However, a Raak we¡­ convinced to talk, told us that neither was under guard, but the pathway to get there is.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes I wish all you optics could pull off Officer Mayer¡¯s memory trick to brain jack the best path forward,¡± Hawkins sighed. ¡°Well, make the best of what intel you have and finish securing the building. We will have your spotters back on the ship within the hour.¡±

    The command channel disconnected without waiting for a reply. It wouldn¡¯t be long before Warren and Cecile were safe, and that thought relieved a significant amount of worry.

    Unfortunately, that was where the good news ended.

    The order to split into fireteams was stupid at best, suicidal at worst. While he could ignore the order and deal with the consequences later, the bottom line was that the Lieutenant had a point when he said time was running out.

    ¡°Command wants us to split up and cover more ground,¡± he said to the squad. ¡°We will make two teams and work our way to the two control rooms. One group will be me, Alfson, and Hayward. The other will be Walker, West, Jenkins, and Mornin-¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Thea interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but that¡¯s just not wise and you know it. We can¡¯t risk being more worried about protecting each other than we are Hayward.¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°But nothing, you know damned well that if we go as part of a trio, we will end up prioritizing each other over her, and I¡¯m not having that. We get away with it most of the time because we feel safe in a large group. This is one of those times where the smarter option is for me to go with the other crew. So Nessa and I will switch. If you get injured, Candice can tie a tourniquet around anything your armor can¡¯t stabilize,¡± Thea said, laying out a solid argument he couldn¡¯t refute.

    ¡°Alright then. You guys head toward the southern command center. According to the blueprints, it should be a few levels down. We will head to the northern command room four levels down. If you find prisoners, protect them until they can be extracted. We will send them up to the ship and let Command handle them.¡±

    ¡°How are you supposed to lock down the controls without a Possessor?¡± Dave asked. ¡°Without Alexander, we only have two people that can jump into machines, and they¡¯re both with me.¡±

    ¡°Jenkins, can you leave a drone on someone¡¯s armor like you did earlier?¡± Jack asked after a few moments of thought.

    ¡°Yeah, but like I¡¯ve said before, Warren is better than me at complex machines.¡±

    ¡°I know, but we don¡¯t have him around. Send the drone with us and use it to piggyback into the command center if we get there first. All you need to do is activate the lockdown protocol. Worst-case scenario, we¡¯ll have to try forming a long-range connection with Alexander back on the ship and let him do his thing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can,¡± the Possessor said hesitantly.

    Objectives confirmed, the two fireteams broke apart. As much as he wanted to keep a constant eye on Thea, he recognized that desire was the core of the point she was trying to make.

    A short time later, Jack¡¯s sub squad found themselves down four levels of stairs and staring at yet another locked door. Luckily, their team was well equipped to remove such obstacles.

    After using Jack¡¯s ability to confirm the portal was clear on the other side, Nessa drew a hilt and summoned a blade. Not bothering with finesse, she buried it into the metal barrier and carved a fist-sized hole around the lock. Stepping back to admire her work, she holstered her weapon and kicked the door in one fluid movement.

    When the group stepped onto the catwalk beyond, they finally saw proof of the factory¡¯s purpose. Below, massive vats of a white, semi-viscous liquid bubbled, and steam rose to fill the room. Jack watched as a line of egg-like objects traveled along a conveyor belt to be filled and sealed before continuing their path out of the room.

    In a flash of memory, he saw himself locked inside one of those pods as the fluid came to life and drowned him. He remembered waking up and believing the nightmare was over, only to be subjected to the Serum¡¯s ministrations a second time.

    As powerful a tool as it was, the price of pain and terror inflicted on those forced to endure it without having their senses dulled and their memory wiped was hard to justify.

    But apparently, I¡¯m the only one to survive a double dose.

    The morning after that disturbing experience, Summers explained that it was almost common practice for UHR scientists to use a recruit for experimentation. Most of the time, the Drill Sergeants could stop the process before it began. Unfortunately for Jack, the doctors had gone out of their way to keep their plans for him off the books.

    The control station sat in the far corner of the room, its dark silhouette blending with the shadows, almost as though the factory was designed specifically to hide it. The near thirty-meter stretch of dark windows left a sense of foreboding, but the group knew they were staring at their objective.

    ¡°There,¡± Jack said.

    No matter how stupid he felt for pointing out the obvious, it was better than allowing the uncanny silence to continue. As they walked, the only sound echoing through the room was the slight gurgle of boiling serum and the muffled tapping of boots against steel.

    Jack figured at least one Raak¡¯Shee would be on guard. But apparently, the aliens were so confident in their security, they didn¡¯t even bother posting a watch.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    What a wonderful mistake to have made.

    Jack approached the embankment of windows and tried¡ªunsuccessfully¡ªto cast his vision into the room. While the lack of cameras concerned him, Nessa mollified that feeling by shining her armor¡¯s spotlight through the glass windows to verify its emptiness.

    ¡°Door, ten meters down,¡± Candice said, pointing her spotlight at the metal reinforced barrier at the end of the wall.

    Unfortunately, they quickly discovered the facility¡¯s love of locked doors extended to this one as well.

    ¡°Nessa, would you mind?¡± Jack asked in a poor attempt at nonchalance. A mixture of excitement and nervousness sent chills down his spine. The mission was so close to being complete without injury, he could taste it.

    The Breaker drew a hilt and summoned a polearm from the ambient Light around her. Driving the weapon through the door, she carved a hole large enough for them to enter with relative ease.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t the lights turn on?¡± Hayward said, following the others into the room, ¡°Every other room in this facility is motion activated.¡±

    ¡°Probably just busted, not like the maintenance man can get to every room while the rhinos are running amuck,¡± Nessa said, reshaping the polearm to give it a tripod base. The blood-colored Light didn¡¯t allow for much, but it was at least a source of illumination.

    ¡°Jenkins, it¡¯s your time to shine,¡± Jack informed, letting the squad know they¡¯d gotten to the control room.

    A small crawler drone dropped from Nessa¡¯s armor and skittered up to the control panel. Perched on the interface, it could activate the bank of monitors, but instead of possessing the machine through proximity, the drone kept dancing around in search of a network interface.

    ¡°Jack, I¡¯m going to be all but useless here,¡± Jenkins said after nearly five minutes. ¡°The security is too high for me to just jump in, and I¡¯m having no luck finding a physical port.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Drop out of the drone and focus on your mission up there,¡± the Sergeant said, switching to the command channel. ¡°Command, it looks like we¡¯ve hit a bit of a speed bump. Is Specialist Alexander there?¡±

    Staring at the wide array of information, Jack was astounded to see how much data was being piped into this room. It would be nearly impossible to try controlling this facility without Li-Tech.

    ¡°He is, why?¡± Hawkins replied.

    ¡°I need his help to complete the mission. Alexander, can you find somewhere comfortable? I need your mind for a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°You got it, bud.¡± A loud thump suggested the Possessor had chosen that very spot as his ¡°somewhere comfortable.¡± It wasn¡¯t surprising. He would often do things in ways everyone else found odd, but his friends found it endearing, ¡°Take me there.¡±

    Jack reached into the Light spectrum, following the single thread that led all the way back to the ship currently hanging in orbit. Searching for the familiar presence of his friend, he found the Possessor and pulled. Everyone thought optics were nothing more than radios, but the truth was much more utilitarian.

    This wasn¡¯t a trick any two people off the street could do. It took a significant amount of trust on both ends. For the optic, the person they took with them could hear every bit of information passed to and from while the link was in place. While not a bad thing, it could create awkward questions at the end of a mission if someone said the wrong thing.

    The possessor took a much greater risk in this situation. Breaking the link before establishing control of the system posed significant risk of the soldier losing his or her mind to the infinite depths of space. It wouldn¡¯t take long, but the risk was always there.

    Back in the control room, Jack built a link between the ship and the console and ensured that Warren¡¯s mind was securely in place before cutting himself from the circuit completely. In theory, the thread would remain long enough for Warren to take over the system and perform the needed work.

    ¡°Jack,¡± Nessa said, turning back to the ruined door, ¡°You¡¯d better be finishing up over there. We have a bit of a problem.¡±

    A mass of black, formless tentacles dropped from the ceiling, twisting as it dragged its body together. Instead of taking the form of the now-familiar Raak¡¯Shee, its flesh molded into a gross approximation of an AHF soldier in full armor.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t know what our bodies actually look like.¡± Candice said, raising her rifle and firing shot after pointless shot into the creature.

    Jack dove back into the Light spectrum, knowing what would happen if the creature got its bearing. This next part would hurt¡ªbadly¡ªbut he refused to allow another friend to die.

    He grabbed a strand from the tapestry of Light at random and punched it into the creature with a ferocity he didn¡¯t know was inside him. Instead of reacting with indifference like the last one, the creature screamed in pain, momentarily losing cohesion before trying to reshape itself again.

    He took a deep breath and prepared for the worst before completing the circuit. Expecting the same as before, it shocked him to find that the herculean effort was simply gargantuan. Clearly, this creature was significantly weaker than its predecessor.

    Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he pulled the connection back into himself, tied in the squad frequency, and gave the orders to shoot. Raising his weapon, he changed to three-round burst and let loose a near-constant stream of Light as the enemy lost its composure a second time.

    Within heartbeats, a sharp pain formed behind his eyes as the stress of holding the thread inside the creature mounted. Sadly, he knew the longer he held on to the connection, the worse it would get.

    ¡°Fuck this,¡± Nessa grunted.

    To his left, she holstered her pistol. Never one to bring a rifle to a sword fight, the lithe warrior grabbed the polearm from the floor and dashed forward. In one hand, the weapon reformed into the familiar saber she so often preferred. With her other, she flung a small red disk at the enemy.

    On impact, the thermal grenade exploded in a three-meter radius of heat. Inside the virtual inferno, they could hear thousands of screams overlapping one another like the voices of the damned begging for release.

    Near the brink of death, the creature could no longer hold on to its form. The pile of wriggling tentacles responded to the attack the only way it could, considering its present state.

    From inside the fiery orb, black tentacles struck out wildly, desperately trying to find something to retaliate against.

    By pure chance, one found Nessa¡¯s leg.

    Finally knowing where to focus its anger, every limb left to the creature shot out and latched on to her armor. Her shout of surprise quickly morphed into shouts of pain as the appendages constricted, slowly crushing the reinforced armor as if it were nothing more than cloth.

    Those shouts of pain became screams of terror and anguish as saw-like teeth extended from the creature and tore through skin, muscle, and bone.

    When the two threads of yellow Light wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her away from the dying creature, her throat was so raw, simply couldn¡¯t scream any longer.

    Not even when she noticed a familiar armored leg being pulled into the dimming sphere of heat.

    ¡°Is it dead?¡± Candice pleaded, refusing to turn away from the charred lump of flesh that had been their enemy.

    Smoke rose from the motionless pile, proving that a forced connection to Light and a blast of heat were more than enough to kill its kind. Sadly, the alien¡¯s last attempted act before dying had been to cripple their strongest warrior.

    It worked.

    A groan of pain brought the attention back to the situation at hand. Candice dropped to the ground, fingers searching for the emergency release right above Nessa¡¯s thigh. Fingers tightening around the lever, she pulled and stripped back the armor and exposed a ragged, torn, and bloody wound that left nothing to the imagination.

    ¡°Command, we were just attacked. We have injuries.¡± Jack said, dropping to his knees beside the Binder, looking to help however he could.

    Reaching for Nessa¡¯s first aid kit, Candice pulled out a can of instant coagulant to staunch the blood.

    The blood kept flowing.

    ¡°A Raak caught you off guard like that? How? They move like a rockslide.¡± Hawkins asked incredulously.

    ¡°I feel like you¡¯re focusing on the wrong thing here. LT, Nessa has no leg.¡±

    Tossing the can to the side, she grabbed a handful of gauze and tried to apply pressure.

    The blood kept flowing.

    ¡°Oh, I heard you, Sergeant, but with Alfson there, you should be fine.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, sir, you made us split up. It¡¯s just me and Hayward.¡±

    Desperation was setting in. They could see the exposed skin of Nessa¡¯s leg turning pale. They were running out of time.

    ¡°Hayward is there. Have her tie a tourniquet.¡±

    Realization dawned on them as Thea¡¯s words played through their minds.

    Jack grabbed the stump, lifting it while Candice brought a thread of power to life. Not wanting to cause further damage, the binder wrapped a wide strip of medical cloth from the kit around the leg before securing it in place.

    Praying to whatever God might be listening, she tightened. Slowly increasing the pressure until the flow of blood finally slowed and eventually stopped altogether.

    Not ready to sit back in relief, Jack grabbed the bloody, discarded can of coagulant and sprayed the stump until there was nothing left. Finally comfortable that Nessa wouldn¡¯t die, he pulled a long cloth bandage from her kit and gently wrapped the exposed flesh.

    ¡°Thank you, sir. You saved her life. To answer your question, it wasn¡¯t a Raak. It was one of those¡­ things. We killed it, but it effectively removed Nessa from the fight.¡±

    ¡°Can she hobble well enough to get out?¡±

    Jack looked down at the unconscious form of the red-haired woman and almost laughed.

    ¡°Sir, there is nothing left past about mid-thigh. Not only is walking out of the question, but shock and blood loss completely knocked her out. The only way she¡¯s coming home is by you gating her there.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°Was Alexander able to finish his connection?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was. I¡¯m working on breaking through the various security layers right now,¡± a disembodied robotic version of Warren¡¯s voice said, ¡°and you better not let Nessa die.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she is stable.¡± Jack said, leaning back and taking a deep breath, ¡°Oh and Alexander¡­ please hurry.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 82

    ¡°I¡¯m calling foul. Right here, right now. These liberal fanatics have stolen the election and are getting away with it. We have video evidence of ballots being dropped off by the ton to skew the results.¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see it then.¡±

    ¡°Well, uh¡­ I don¡¯t have it here.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because.¡±

    ¡°Bucker, data transmission in the UHR is so fast you would only need a nanosecond to get the proof. The reason you don¡¯t have it is that your proof doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    ~Live feed cut due to technical difficulties~ - From Bucker Jarlson Tonight ¨C June 3, 3265.

    Thea hated when the squad had to separate. Last time they did, Candice had gotten shot on what was supposed to be a simple patrol mission. If a veteran Phantom from another squad hadn¡¯t been there, she would have died. Too much time in the field was not a good excuse for losing a life, and that was a hill she was willing to die on.

    One of the smaller, less important things Jack had yet to master was remembering to cut out the rest of the squad when talking to Command. Most of the time, it was a boon that gave insight into what the higher-ups were thinking. Because of that, Spier Squad had unilaterally decided not to let the young optic know that his ¡®private¡¯ conversations weren¡¯t so private after all.

    More information was good for the group, right?

    It was because of this oversight that everyone knew Command was splitting them up and it was not Hawkins¡¯ idea. The number of times the LT stopped the conversation to confer with the captain proved just how much he opposed it.

    But in reality, what other choices were there?

    While the other three squads were almost finished with their missions, Spier was falling behind in the basement of some old factory. If the prior pace held, it wouldn¡¯t be long before the enemy¡¯s retreat turned this building into a last-ditch defense point.

    She wasn¡¯t one for planning or tactics, but when you were in a squad composed of mostly planners, it didn¡¯t take long for them to try explaining why the choices made were tactically sound.

    It was very annoying.

    ¡°According to the map, we¡¯re going to cross two more floors before reaching our target,¡± Dave said. ¡°I say we check them for goodies¡­ and prisoners. Worst case, we find someone and let them out.¡±

    The group strolled along without a care in the world, faceplates up as a map projected on the ground guided them. It was easy to mistake it as carelessness unless you saw the faint blue tint of a shield surrounding them.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear Command? We don¡¯t have time for bullshitting around,¡± Jenkins pointed out.

    ¡°I did, but I also saw you go into your little trance and come back when Jack found the control room. The fact that we¡¯re walking right now tells me you had some trouble. So now it¡¯s Warren¡¯s turn, and it¡¯s only a matter of time before he has the security back in place.¡±

    ¡°Then shouldn¡¯t we meet up with them and be ready to leave?¡±

    ¡°Pfft, no? We need to find something big enough to justify splitting the group. That means finding possible prisoners or a supply of Serum. If we can¡¯t help locking things down, securing as many assets as possible is the next best thing,¡± Dave explained, making very valid points.

    Thea could understand why Jenkins would want to rush to rejoin the others, but trusting your fellow squadmates was a big part of being a soldier. If a person couldn¡¯t lean on the other members of their squad, who could they lean on?

    Thea cleared her head with a shake and rejoined the squad chat. ¡°Monroe, we are on the second to last floor now. I¡¯m expecting at least a few prisoners.¡±

    ¡°Copy that,¡± he replied, sounding strained.

    How odd.

    Upon opening the next door, they were greeted by the sight of a well-lit hallway with doors evenly spaced along the wall. Tasteful paintings proved it was either the nicest prison in history or sleeping quarters for factory workers held late into the night.

    ¡°Jenkins, you¡¯re with me on the left. West and Morningwood, you take the right. Leave nothing unsearched,¡± she said, pushing past the Aegis and through the first door. ¡°Let¡¯s get this finished so we can go home.¡±

    ¡°You really miss Jack that much, huh?¡± Alec asked suggestively.

    ¡°Not really, but I do want to get done with the assignment so that I can take my armor off.¡±

    The first twelve rooms were identical: small, with a bed at the center, and a bathroom off to the side. If the hallway didn¡¯t scream hotel before, this more than confirmed the thought.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    When she opened the door to the thirteenth room, Thea saw something that would haunt her dreams for months to come.

    A woman hung from the light fixture by torn, bloody, and manacled wrists. Thea¡¯s eyes followed the streaks of dry blood that curled around her arms. It was clear they had held this poor human in these horrific conditions for quite some time.

    Look at the eyes.

    No, no, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to meet the unliving gaze of the damned.

    Instead, she looked down at the naked and beaten body, starved so badly she was barely more than skin and bones. How they¡¯d managed this much suffering in such a short time, she¡¯d never know.

    The eyes.

    But she wouldn¡¯t. Couldn¡¯t. Seeing those eyes would tear into her soul, and she knew it.

    It was incredible that she¡¯d held on for as long as she did, especially considering the number of lacerations covering her body. Thea looked at the woman¡¯s feet and saw several missing toes, each in different stages of healing.

    Or decay.

    Whoever had done this was sick beyond anything she¡¯d ever seen, and that was after being exposed to two years of desensitizing training just to get her ready for this day. But being trained to see horror and actually experiencing it were two very different things.

    The eyes.

    There was nowhere else to look.

    Thea swallowed her revulsion; well aware she wouldn¡¯t sleep for the next several months. She examined the body, bracing herself for the moment her gaze met those dull, lifeless eyes.

    A moan escaped lips that hadn¡¯t seen moisture in days.

    Reacting on training alone, Thea rushed in and pulled the small Li-Tech knife she carried for when¡ªnot if¡ªshe needed to carve her way into an ally¡¯s armor. Bringing it to life with the green Light of the Phantoms, she cut through the woman¡¯s bonds.

    Dropping the knife, the medic caught the tortured woman before she could hit the floor.

    She was light, lighter than an adult human had any business being, and it made carrying her emaciated frame sickeningly easy as she moved to set the injured woman on a bed in the corner. The stark contrast of the white linens did nothing to make the situation any easier to stomach. In fact, watching blood stain the sheets felt like an apt allegory to the way this woman¡¯s jailers had stained her soul.

    If Thea was going to save a life today, she had to act fast and with no hesitation.

    She called on her power, pushing her mind into the woman and healing the most grievous wounds first. Her chest and stomach had been flayed, peeled like an orange, and left to wither away. If that wasn¡¯t enough, Thea found alarming levels of salt in the woman¡¯s bloodstream.

    The sick bastard had peeled her skin away and literally rubbed salt on the wounds. Almost like they were trying to stop the inevitable infection before burning the raw tissue in a crude cauterization attempt. While it may have kept her alive, that much raw flesh exposed to the air for an extended period guaranteed illness.

    That she was still alive was nothing less than a miracle.

    Thea surged her power and encouraged new skin to grow over the burns. Even sped up by with Light, it still would cost too much in internal vitamins and minerals to fully heal her body.

    She could do so much with a fresh wound, but healing a body this broken took time and resources.

    Reaching into her med kit, Thea pulled out a pill so densely packed with various elements it could probably regrow a hand if the situation called for it. Without giving it a second thought, she shoved it into the woman¡¯s mouth and forced her to swallow.

    It wasn¡¯t pleasant, but was saving a life ever easy?

    Moments later, burned flesh gave way to a fresh layer of pink skin as the damage to her torso was slowly undone. Shifting her focus to other injuries, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her as she pushed more Light into the woman, healing multiple broken bones and repairing nearly every internal organ.

    With the skin regrown and organs restored, she started treating a deeply ingrained infection that¡ªif left alone¡ªwould kill the woman just as effectively as the injuries themselves.

    It took every ounce of willpower she had not to fall over and give up on the patient. The sheer volume of Light channeled into this poor woman was more than anything Thea had ever used in a day, much less on a single person.

    After this, she was going to buy herself a drink, and if Jack was too busy with sergeant stuff to join her, too bad.

    An eternity passed while she worked on the victim. When Thea finally took a wobbly step back, she was shocked to find the entire ordeal had only taken ten minutes. With a deep breath, she looked at the girl¡¯s uninjured face.

    She was pretty, but her eyes were still dull. If she walked away from this without severe mental trauma¡­ well¡­ there was no use hoping for what would never happen.

    ¡°Wa-ter?¡± she gasped, still unable to speak clearly.

    ¡°Right here,¡± Jenkins said, opening his faceplate and handing over a canteen. He hated being unable to do anything and was glad for the chance to help however he could. ¡°Drink slowly. Who did this to you?¡±

    The girl took the offered beverage and drank deeply, completely ignoring the advice to take it slow. Several moments and an empty flask later, she focused her gaze on Thea, staunchly refusing to meet the Possessor¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°A man. I never saw more than an outline¡­ he never turned on the light,¡± she whispered, rolling to her side and pulling her knees to her chest, ¡°I only ever got flashes when the door opened, but I know he was human.¡±

    ¡°What is your name? When were you born?¡± Thea asked, trying her best to focus on finishing what little triage she could remember.

    ¡°Evee¡­ No. My name is Evelyn. My friends, they called me Evee,¡± she replied, breaking into a fit of coughs. ¡°I don¡¯t know the rest. Are we getting away from here? From¡­ him?¡±

    Responding to the coughing fit the same as she would any other illness, Thea used her power to push Light back into the freshly healed woman. As much as she wished to help more, the young Phantom just didn¡¯t have the talent or knowledge to remove a curse as nebulous as Asthma.

    ¡°Good job Evee. We can figure the rest out together in a little while. Can you stand? We need to get out of here. This is still a hostile zone.¡±

    ¡°Ok,¡± she answered simply, but Thea could tell the knowledge of being in what was basically a war zone terrified her.

    As well, it should.

    She pulled herself to her feet and turned to Jenkins. ¡°She¡¯s coming with us. Did they find any others?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been right here with you,¡± he replied, ¡°I honestly don¡¯t ¨C¡±

    ¡°Three,¡± Dave interrupted, ¡°But they are all well past saving. I¡¯m honestly surprised she was in good enough shape for you to bring back.¡±

    ¡°It was close, but I¡¯m confident Evee will make a full recovery in time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss Evee, but I must¡¯ve left my manners on the ship,¡± he said, tipping an imaginary hat, ¡°But we got no time to wait around here for you to get better. We¡¯ve gotta move.¡±

    Dave walked to the bed and helped the dirty woman to her feet. With a surprising amount of care, he gently wrapped a sheet around her shoulders in a poor attempt to give her something to wear. He could tell she was scared and tired, but unfortunately, finishing the mission came first, and comfort came long after.

    He could apologize when they were all safe.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 83

    ¡°Some call the other races barbaric; others insist they¡¯re advanced. From what I¡¯ve been able to gather after years of journalism is that other species are simply different. The hard Right in the Senate call for a never-ending war, but not a single one will join the fight. I say we go another direction altogether. We should form a galactic coalition of races that works together for a common good.¡± ¨C From: At this hour with Dianna Robertson.

    From her place at the back of the formation, Thea watched with suspicion as the middle-aged woman stumbled along. While she had sympathy in spades, she also knew there was no reason for Evee to still be in pain. She¡¯d healed every wound the woman had, plus some. Was the tender way she walked an act to hide something more nefarious, or was it the result of mental trauma?

    ¡°So, Evee, do you have any clue how long they held you?¡± Thea asked, picking up her pace to walk alongside the woman.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m not sure. A few days at most? They took me on Monday if that helps.¡±

    It didn¡¯t. Today was Tuesday, and the state of her wounds suggested the torture had gone on for much longer than a single day. However, loss of time recognition was common with prisoners, so the idea that she truly didn¡¯t know was plausible.

    ¡°Yeah? You hid from the Raak for quite some time. That¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Raak? What is that?¡±

    ¡°Big, scary gray things, about three meters tall, kinda looks like a rhino on two legs. Completely taken over this planet¡­ you¡¯re not following.¡± Thea realized when Evee¡¯s clueless expression got deeper.

    ¡°You mean the man¡¯s bodyguards?¡±

    She almost laughed, but caught herself before she made light of Evelyn¡¯s pain. ¡°If that creature is what we think it is, it didn¡¯t need a bodyguard. Not even one as formidable as a Raak¡¯Shee.¡±

    Evelyn shook her head as she tried to reconcile the events of recent history, ¡°I remember the sirens going off, and the police telling everyone to stand their ground. I just¡­ grabbed my knife and walked out in my apron. Some people tried to fight them, but they were mowing through us like seniors at an early bird special. The ones they didn¡¯t kill, they took¡­¡±

    If her story was true, it meant the AHF contingent was much less prepared on this planet than they¡¯d feared. Someone was going to get demoted when Command found out¡­ if they were still alive.

    ¡°You were at home?¡±

    ¡°No, work. I am a chef downtown. I tried to leave¡­¡± she said, her voice trailing off into a jumbled mess of memory.

    If what this woman said was true, she¡¯d been in enemy hands for over a month. With the torture she went through, it was very possible that she¡¯d turned.

    Thea would have to watch her.

    She hated it came to this, but it was better to be safe than sorry. And when you¡¯re dealing with a torture victim, it was always best to assume they¡¯d cracked under pressure.

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad we found you and we can bring you home,¡± Thea said, simultaneously sending a quick text message to the group outlining her fears.

    ¡°I think anything is better than being back there¡­¡±

    The group walked in silence while discussing Thea¡¯s worries via text.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Thea, but I can¡¯t see this woman being some kind of spy,¡± Dave sent, his heavy boots echoing off the walls as they descended the stairwell.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying that she is. But her story seems off, and we need to be careful.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but what would be the point of hurting a spy that much?¡± Jenkins asked.

    ¡°To garner sympathy. The worse we feel for her, the less we look at her behavior.¡±

    ¡°I could see that, but it still doesn¡¯t make me happy.¡± Alec said, mirroring everyone¡¯s feelings with one statement.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make us happy either, bud, but it don¡¯t mean we have the option of just ignoring it,¡± Dave replied, finally seeing it from Thea¡¯s point of view.

    ¡°Everyone, just be cautious. I would love to laugh about this later, but for now¡­ well, a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone.¡± Thea concluded.

    If the map was accurate, they would find their final objective at the bottom of this stairwell. If they were lucky, there would be a series of experimental devices and a cache of serum hidden inside the secondary control room.

    Luckily, scorch marks outside the vault suggested the enemy had failed to gain entrance to this most secure location, but not for lack of trying.

    On the wall beside the vault door, someone had smashed the hand scanner to bits, enraged at being denied entrance. The input device was hanging by a single wire and shards of glass were scattered beneath. A screen set in the wall was the only part that mostly survived, but even it was cracked and hard to see.

    ¡°Tom, Alec, can either of you unlock this door?¡± Dave asked, addressing the two tech-based soldiers while stepping back and forming a half-dome around them, just in case.

    ¡°We¡¯d better be able to,¡± Alec replied, stepping up and placing a gauntleted hand on the door.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    A pulse of orange Light shot down the Dragoon¡¯s arm and into the mechanism. A second later, the interface used to control the locks was part of him. Normally, opening a door was child¡¯s play, but this was not a normal door.

    ¡°Jenkins, I have the hardware, but they designed this thing to fight off people like us. Can you to jump into the computer and release the lock?¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± indigo Light flashed along the back of his neck as the Possessor cast his mind into what little remained of the computer, ¡°You¡¯re right, they designed this thing so that if the interface got broken, it would take at least two Li-Tech users of different Corps to get it open. In fact, there is a provision here that requires the use of two spectrums for manual override. Go ahead and try the mechanism. I¡¯ve got the actual lock disengaged.¡±

    Thea could only watch as the two men worked. As much as she wanted to be useful, her power made it so that she was damned near useless with machines.

    The glow in Alec¡¯s arm intensified as he located seven different bolts and retracted them one at a time. It was a slow process, but eventually, he opened them all. With that out of the way, both men dropped their connections.

    Alec stumbled back from the door breathing heavily, the Light expenditure needed to open the vault draining him more than he was comfortable with. Especially in a hostile zone.

    Dave pulled, and the door swung out silently to reveal a massive warehouse that went far beyond their expectations. Fog poured out, the negative temperature of the vault creeping into the hallway now that it was open.

    It was like they were about to step into a place frozen in time, just waiting to give up the secrets of a bygone era.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go in there. Please don¡¯t make me. I¡¯ll freeze and they¡¯ll find me ¡­ I can¡¯t live through that again,¡± Evelyn panicked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Thea replied, raising her faceplate to talk with the woman, ¡°Specialist Jenkins and I will stay right here with you while the boys finish the mission.¡±

    ~~**~~

    Alec and Dave strode through countless aisles of experimental equipment with one thing in mind: completing the objective. The pair had been through the worst life could throw at them, so they figured it was only fitting to spend most of their missions together.

    That¡¯s not to say they considered themselves a private duo with nobody else to rely on. It meant their family had grown to include people they didn¡¯t expect. Hell, a little over two years ago, Dave was sleeping on Alec¡¯s couch after a hard day¡¯s work, trying his damnedest to get his house back.

    He wanted to hate the government for that, but this wasn¡¯t the time nor the place for a pity party about losing his home. Besides, he should thank them. If not for the corrupt politics on Earth, neither man would have joined the AHF and gotten to see what the universe was really like.

    So far, he¡¯d discovered that it was fighting, or drinking, or both. And he could deal with that.

    Each item they passed was labeled, numbered, and cataloged in a directory at the front of each aisle. Beside them were small-¡ªbut lengthy¡ªexplanations about what each one was and why experimentation stopped. Some were amusing, like the Light-powered hair dryer that should have dried hair in five seconds, but instead produced a heat so great, it instantly burned the hair off.

    Others were much, much worse. So far, they¡¯d seen several projects simply labeled World Killer no less than a dozen times. Alec repeatedly attempted to gather more information, but the warehouse AI repeatedly kicked him out of the interface for trying.

    ¡°What do you think this one does?¡± Alec asked, picking up yet another of the items labeled World Killer.

    ¡°Based on the fact that it¡¯s called a world killer, I assume it kills a world.¡±

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s probably not finished. They got to a point where they couldn¡¯t make it work and just put it on the shelf,¡± he said, putting the cylinder back. Seconds later, he picked up a ball-shaped one labeled [Li-Tech Bio Grenade ¨C Dragoon only] and started tossing it into the air.

    ¡°Cut that shit out before you get us both killed,¡± Dave scolded. ¡°You know this ain¡¯t the place to screw around with this stuff¡­ right? If we stay in here too long, our beers are liable to freeze.¡±

    ¡°Oh damn, you¡¯re right. I forgot about the beer.¡±

    Alec stopped tossing the bioweapon and slipped it into a compartment at his waist, fully intending to return it on their way out. Glancing to the side, he found that he¡¯d lost his best friend a few meters back.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just tell me off for playing with the shiny new toys? What the hell are you doing?¡±

    Dave responded by simply pointing at a device that laid harmlessly on the shelf, its label announcing it as [Experiment F-43918.] Below the name, the object''s description quickly clarified why Dave was tempted to take it.

    [Experiment F-43918, {Codename ¨C Achilles}: I designed this module as an addition to the standard Aegis load out. Its more compressed design allows for a stronger, more efficient barrier with half the cost. Unfortunately, there were several issues in the design from the early stages. First, it was not capable of projecting a field more than six inches from the user¡¯s body without losing cohesion, making it wonderful for the user, but not the squad he or she is protecting. Second, and more importantly, it requires a much more dense flow of Light than average. The only method most soldiers can use to approach that target output is by using Experiment T-80081. Sadly, most soldiers aren¡¯t willing to become test subjects to accomplish this goal.]

    Project viability ¨C high.

    Officer FB

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Alec exclaimed, reaching for the armor module. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta take this. It even says it would probably work!¡±

    ¡°Yes, but only with whatever Experiment T-80081 is. How do we even find that?¡± He replied, giving in to the temptation and attaching it to his armor. When it integrated, the lines of power on the exoskeleton deepened to a darker blue for a single moment before returning to their previous shade.

    ¡°Ask your AI?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can take this stuff, right? I mean¡­ that creepy recording Jack found said we could use whatever we found,¡± the Aegis said, walking along the line his AI had plotted to find the other experiment.

    ¡°I see nothing wrong with your logic. After all, we have to stay alive too.¡±

    A few moments later, the pair found yet another armor module. As before, a label explained its purpose and viability:

    [Experiment T-80081, {Codename ¨C Venom}: This module houses what could be the greatest boon and the greatest threat to mankind in the history of our race. ¡®Venom¡¯ can increase a human¡¯s capacity for Light absorption and redistribution by 75%. Users of ''Venom'' have done remarkable things, surpassing what was previously achievable by only an Unranked Officer. The effect only lasts about two hours before breaking down, but when used as a last resort, it could be the difference between life and death.

    However, it is incredibly addictive. Most have experienced extreme withdrawals rivaling those of heroin with detox symptoms lasting nearly a month. I believe that with further testing I can remove the addictive nature, but there is a not-insignificant part mentally driven by a carnal lust for power.]

    Overall, the viability of ¡®Venom¡¯ is very high, provided I can break this last barrier and make it safe for use.

    Officer TK

    ¡°So maybe it has a few drawbacks,¡± Alec said after reading the plaque, ¡°Screw that¡­ a lot of drawbacks. You can still probably take it and see what the eggheads up top can figure out.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to depend on this thing. Yeah, a bump in power would be nice, but at what cost?¡± Dave said, shaking his head and walking away, ¡°It ain¡¯t worth it. I¡¯ll find another way to get strong enough for this shield.¡±

    ¡°I honestly can¡¯t blame you. I think we are almost there.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 84

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can hear us. I don¡¯t know if there is anything left to be said. You left us here to die, and we are doing exactly that. You abandoned us on a planet with no remaining infrastructure and expected the few of us that remained not to die. We hate you, we hate the UHR. If you come back to this world, it will be as enemies to the people you forgot.¡± ¨C Transmission from Earth after the fall.

    ¡°The man that hurt me tried over and over to get into that vault,¡± Evelyn said, breaking the silence that settled over the trio. ¡°He brought me down here once. It hurt so much¡­ this is where he started peeling my skin. I¡ªI remember him asking why ¡®our collective¡¯ wouldn¡¯t stop the pain. I didn¡¯t understand what he meant¡­ I just wanted to stop hurting.¡±

    ¡°Evee, that man wasn¡¯t human. If I¡¯m right, he¡¯s from a race of beings that have been kicking the AHF¡¯s ass at every turn. Granted, it was only once, but it still sucked,¡± Thea replied, lowering her guard in response to the girl¡¯s pain, ¡°The fact that it referred to a collective probably meant it isn¡¯t too familiar with humans or our biology.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ I guess I should¡¯ve caught that. Honestly, I just tried to tell him whatever he wanted to hear. As long as the pain stopped, I didn¡¯t care what he did or what he knew.¡±

    ¡°What else did it ask?¡±

    ¡°Why do you keep saying ¡®it?¡¯¡±

    ¡°Because she doesn¡¯t want to assign humanity to something she is going to kill,¡± Jenkins said, setting his drones to autopilot so he could pay better attention to the conversation. ¡°Please try to answer her question.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ stuff like who I take orders from, my name, my function, anything really,¡± she said, fiddling with the makeshift dress to avoid making eye contact.

    ¡°What did you say?¡±

    ¡°I told him everything, that my orders come from the servers and that I was just a chef,¡± she whispered. ¡°If I would have just stayed at work, maybe I could¡¯ve escaped the invasion¡­¡±

    ¡°Did the local AHF detachment even try to help?¡±

    ¡°I always thought the AHF was a myth until I saw you,¡± she trailed off, as if listening to something only she could hear. ¡°He¡¯s coming¡­¡±

    Evelyn backed into the corner, staring wide-eyed at the stairwell as a man made of inky shadows slowly descended. Behind him were two Raak¡¯Shee guards in dark gray armor, carrying the telltale double-sided ax so common among their kind.

    ¡°Evelyn, my pet. Were we not good to you? You ran away from your masters,¡± the creature said, its voice a discordant harmony that made the hair on Thea¡¯s neck stand up. Raising a hand to gesture to the guards, it continued, ¡°You two, collect our property. We don¡¯t care what happens to the soldiers.¡±

    The soldiers sealed their faceplates with a thought and took a step back in anticipation of the coming battle, ¡°Alfson to all Turaspeir personnel. We need help or immediate extraction. I repeat, we need help or immediate extraction. We have multiple hostiles at the entrance to the vault.¡±

    ¡°We want to thank you, human soldiers, for opening the door that has vexed us so. Now that we have access to your weapons and the ability to create more of you¡­ the subjugation of humanity will begin, and blessed darkness shall reign,¡± it said, an evil grin spreading across an unseeing blank sphere of a face.

    The two Raak approached, moving with the air of people who thought they couldn¡¯t lose. In their hands, the double-sided axes glowed bright red as heat flowed through the blades.

    ¡°This is Monroe. We have control of the structure. Are West and Morningwood with you?¡±

    ¡°Negative, they are in the vault securing objective bravo.¡±

    ¡°Not true,¡± a familiar twang said as a barrier formed between the humans and their attackers. ¡°The second objective is secure. We have four cases of the Serum ready for redeployment.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Morningwood, can you re-seal the vault?¡±

    ¡°I can try,¡± Alec said, swinging the portal closed and pulling its interface into himself.

    Across the room, the cocky Raak¡¯Shee tested the barrier with the back of a hand. Instead of the normal glasslike effect of hardened Light, it sparked and cracked, weakening from just a touch.

    ¡°Jack, we still need that extraction like¡­ yesterday. These guys are breaking my shields.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± a familiar voice demanded. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be possible. Are you gassed out?¡±

    Jenkins deployed several drones to help with the fight and provide much needed backup before dropping back to the locking panel. Without pause, a Vixen and two crawlers began attacking the Raak with fury, but unless they struck an unarmored part of the body, it rebuffed the attack with almost nothing to show for it.

    ¡°Possible or not, Cap, it¡¯s happening and I¡¯m not gassed. Apparently Jenkins¡¯s drones ain¡¯t going to help much either,¡± Dave drew his sword and stepped into the line of fire. He wasn¡¯t sure how to fight when his powers were useless, but more than willing to try.

    ¡°Gate, get a lock on West¡¯s location now. Alexander, bring up those defenses ASAP.¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    The two Raak stepped in, trying to flank Dave and attack from either side. Bolstered by a sense of duty, the Aegis parried a series of blows and countering with a wild slash.

    An abnormal amount of resistance met his strike, only carving a mark in the enemy¡¯s armor less than a quarter inch deep. When Dave stepped back to avoid the retaliatory parry, he got a good look at his weapon and was more than a little afraid.

    The saw-toothed cutting edge of the greatsword was damaged. A dark spot stained the rotating blade and required that he pump in more Light to make up for the loss.

    ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t get a lock?¡± Griffin said, obviously too focused on the big picture to mute herself, ¡°Fine, is there anything down there that MIGHT help?¡±

    Thea stepped in behind the creature, hands glowing a sickly green as she tried to find purchase. Out of habit, she grabbed its shoulder and shoved her power into it, only to find that it was like working through a strainer. If any Phantom energy reached the target, it was far too diluted to do any actual damage.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, there is a Steel Cast shell of Officer Hargrave. I don¡¯t know if you can use it, but if it has a tenth of his power, we can save them,¡± Jack said, sending his captain the location of the workshop and a video still of the room.

    ¡°And at ten times the cost,¡± she muttered, voice trailing off as high above the battlefield, the base of her neck glowed with the indigo Light of her corps.

    It was time to do her duty.

    ~~**~~

    In the upper levels of the mountain complex, Unranked Officer Benjamin Hargrave¡¯s eyes opened. Unlike their normal green, they shined brilliant indigo as the shell came to life under the power of a person incapable of using it to its fullest potential.

    Fighting against firewalls stronger than she¡¯d ever experienced, Captain Griffin desperately searched for anything that could save her soldiers.

    A miniature dwarf star roiled inside the body, coming to life only when called to action. As disconcerting as it was to see her chest open to the elements, she knew how to stave off the psychosis of controlling something too¡­ human.

    As systems continued to boot up, an unexpected module turned green in her interface.

    ¡°Monroe, how many are down there?¡± she asked in the metallic false voice used by Possessors.

    This wasn¡¯t her specialty. She was a pilot. The insanity of even considering this was beyond her wildest imagination.

    And she didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°I have four members of Spier squad and one civilian.¡±

    ¡°Who is the most resilient?¡±

    ¡°The best chances of survival are West and Alfson working in tandem.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    [Gate module: Engaged]

    ~~**~~

    ¡°Monroe, please tell me someone is doing something to help us?¡± Alec cried, firing a constant stream of rounds into the enemy.

    ¡°Help is on the way. Lock on to the following targets and don¡¯t die,¡± he said, highlighting the few weak points in the armor that he could identify.

    So far, the four soldiers had killed one of the two armored monsters, but it was far from enough. They¡¯d spent more Light against one enemy than during the entire mission. Fortunately, they weren¡¯t under as much pressure now that one attacker was dead, but Dave¡¯s constant dodging was taking a toll.

    The Aegis had nearly lost his life several times already, and it was only because of swift action on Thea¡¯s part that he was still standing and in the fight. Luckily for her, most of his injuries hadn¡¯t been too severe, especially since she was still weak from bringing Evelyn back from the brink of death.

    On the stairs, the ink-black creature watched in macabre delight like a Roman Emperor at the Colosseum as gladiators fought for their lives a mere twenty feet away. Its inhuman smile served as a constant reminder that if it joined the battle, they were dead.

    Beside Alec, the air shattered. Individual shards growing and merging as they pulled together in a heartbeat. Before he could process what was happening, the deconstructed body of Unranked Officer Hargrave stood in the room.

    ¡°Soldier, is that door sealed?¡± The captain asked, dragging a foot as the body fought against her possession.

    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am,¡± the young Dragoon replied.

    ¡°Good. Jenkins, get the civilian and a case of Serum.¡±

    Moving quickly, Jenkins dragged the hysterical woman over to the impromptu drone.

    ¡°Ready.¡± He said, taking the metallic hand she offered while swaying slightly.

    ¡°Hold on.¡±

    The world shattered, rebuilding itself a heartbeat later on the bridge of the company ship. Letting go of the Officer, he immediately noticed the body of his commander beginning to convulse from the strain. Before he could look back at her drone, it shattered into Light once more.

    ¡°Monroe, Hayward, and Walker, the bridge has a lock on you and will Gate you out. When it opens, do not wait, move.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am.¡±

    ~~**~~

    Back in the stairwell, Hargrave¡¯s body solidified once more. Its imposing figure was somewhat lessened by the unfortunate fact that one arm was obviously dead.

    The drone stumbled toward the Dragoon as the captain prepared for another blast of pain.

    ¡°Morningwood, grab two more cases of Serum, all three if you can manage.¡±

    Not bothering with a verbal response, Alec set his turrets to auto, hoping to provide a few more seconds of cover. Firmly gripping all three remaining cases, he closed the gap to his captain.

    The drone¡¯s remaining hand sparked as it moved, slowly closing on Alec¡¯s shoulder, and activating the Gate. Once again, the world shattered into nothingness.

    When they reformed on the ship, the first thing Alec saw was the crowd of soldiers surrounding the prone form of Captain Griffin. Running toward her, he found himself without the mind or will to make a quip.

    ¡°She is killing herself for them,¡± Jack breathed, still trying to process what was happening.

    Alec stared into his commander¡¯s face as blood dripped from her nose and eyes under the strain of controlling the body of a god.

    ¡°Worry about me later,¡± she said, the drone body once again shattering into nothingness.

    ~~**~~

    Dave¡¯s armor was in bad shape; dented in multiple places, outright missing in others. It was clear he couldn¡¯t hold out much longer.

    Unfortunately, Thea was in much the same situation. During the fight, she¡¯d taken several hits to protect the Aegis from attacks that would have otherwise killed him. She¡¯d partially healed herself from time to time, but pain still radiated through her tired muscles.

    Thea was exhausted. Not only was her body ready to give out, but her ability to craft Light was also far past the point where it was safe to continue.

    ¡°Soldiers, I can¡¯t move this thing anymore. You¡¯re going to have to break contact and grab me.¡± Griffin said, the nearly ruined body of the Unranked Officer kneeling on the ground with nothing left to give.

    Knowing the risk, Thea distracted the armored Raak¡¯Shee and shoved Dave toward the center of the room. Barely able to maintain his balance, the Aegis practically fell onto Griffin¡¯s drone as his armor finally locked up from the excessive damage.

    Dodging a wide swing, Thea dove for the center of the room and wrapped her fingers around a limp arm. Behind her, the creature roared in frustration, charging in with its weapon raised. On the stairs, the faceless figure made of darkness looked concerned that its prey would escape.

    The ax came down in an arc that would easily cleave through her armor.

    She closed her eyes in anticipation of the pain.

    And the world shattered.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 85

    ¡°Their bodies are distinctive. The strange smoky texture of their flesh gives it away. They can change, molding themselves into whichever shape best suits their needs. If you see one, you¡¯re already dead. Your body just doesn¡¯t know it yet.¡± ¨C Data-net post concerning the creatures that attacked Earth.

    ¡°Lieutenant Singh, report.¡± Lieutenant Colonel Moran commanded from Capitan Griffin¡¯s place in the center of the briefing room. It had only been a few hours since the last squad returned to the ship, after which a non-stop tornado of activity consumed every member of Charlie Company. When things finally slowed down, an unknown officer showed up out of the blue to demand an After-Action Report.

    When a deployed vessel returned with injured ground troops, people acted fast to get them taken care of with an admirable sense of urgency. The routine was so common, the soldiers expected to see a small contingent of Phantoms ready to operate the moment the company ship was reattached to the hub. When a mission with a comatose captain, a near fifty percent injury rate and a recently tortured civilian, that urgency was significantly greater.

    It even came with a debrief from the senior brass.

    Jack felt like every Phantom on the hub-ship was waiting for them. The moment the airlock sealed, about fifty soldiers rushed through and immediately began healing injuries as quickly as possible. Fortunately, they only had to carry a few off on stretchers; the rest could be treated with relative ease.

    As one of the more grievously injured soldiers, Nessa was the second to be taken away on one of those stretchers.

    The first was Captain Griffin.

    ¡°Yes Sir,¡± the leader of First Platoon said, casting several images to the holographic projector, ¡°Overall, First Platoon¡¯s mission was a success and can be recorded as such. However, intel greatly underestimated the number of enemy forces. To put it mildly, they were significantly higher than reported. This mistake nearly wiped out my assault squad.¡±

    ¡°Striker squad eliminated nearly forty Raak¡¯Shee before the enemy tried to retreat. However, as is evident from the holes in my squad, three injuries were severe enough to warrant emergency surgery. Those soldiers are currently with the Phantoms and should be back to fighting shape within a few months.¡±

    The images cycled as she spoke. First showing a photo of a soldier¡¯s face, then changing to a detailed explanation of their injuries. Of those, two had multiple broken bones that needed to be re-knit by a Phantom. Sadly, the third was undergoing extensive reconstruction after being ground away by the gears of battle. It was so severe; he was currently under the direct care of one of the highest-ranking Phantom Corpsmen on the hub-ship.

    ¡°Equipment losses were higher than expected, which we all know is a sticking point with battalion. Overall, I call this mission a success,¡± The Officer returned to her chair, wiping the pictures with the projector as she did.

    ¡°Would anyone from the First be willing to provide a statement that points out the failings of today and how to make them better?¡± Moran asked.

    As much as he hated taking after-action reports, the Colonel knew that allowing soldiers a moment to provide feedback usually ended up saving time and money down the line.

    ¡°Well, not to state the obvious, but everything woulda gone better if nobody got hurt,¡± Sergeant Sanchez stood. ¡°But that should go without saying. Those overgrown rhinos had the weight of sheer numbers on their side. Luckily, we occasionally punched them back enough to retrieve our injured. But it¡¯s like the LT said, you¡¯re lucky there is even a squad standing here right now.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± the Colonel said patiently, ¡°What exactly would you change?¡±

    ¡°Breakers. We need more of ¡®em. In total, we only have what¡­ two or three at most? I can¡¯t remember what Smith is. He doesn¡¯t really like talking about himself much.¡±

    ¡°Man, we¡¯ve fought together for eleven years, and you still can¡¯t remember that I¡¯m a breaker?¡± A voice¡ªpresumably Smith¡ªsaid from the formation.

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s like he doesn¡¯t even want to help,¡± he continued, his amused smile reminding everyone to laugh in the face of pain, ¡°Anyway, long story short; we need better heavy armor in a bad way. Not to mention more options for blades. Those Raak take entirely too many rounds to kill with rifles.¡±

    The Lieutenant Colonel, already tired of listening to the report, responded with a slight nod before turning to Second Platoon and signing for the Lieutenant to begin.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Lieutenant Amor started, his rich tenor accented by his French heritage, ¡°Second Platoon, more specifically Nebula Squad, was successful in their mission today. While I tend to agree with Singh that the higher number of targets threw off their game, they pulled through quite nicely.¡±

    ¡°Any injuries?¡±

    ¡°None that require your attention or intervention. Our wounds were small enough that most should be combat ready by the end of the day.¡±

    ¡°Rose, do you have anything to add?¡± The Battalion Commander asked, turning to the large black man.

    He stood to address the officer, ¡°Yes Sir, I want to congratulate Turaspeir publicly. They pulled off a major mission that frankly should have never come to our company, and they did it with minimal issues. Compared to how my squad got started, these cats are squared away at a level we only dreamed of.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for that. But as you know, we will get to Turaspeir when we get to Turaspeir. Do you have anything else to add?¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir. Truthfully, we could have probably done better. We are a heavily defensive squad best prepared for long, drawn-out battles from an entrenched position. Like First; we can defend for days, but have very few close combat options.¡±

    ¡°Good to know. I will let the Battalion armorers know that Charlie Company will be requesting new armor loadouts,¡± Moran replied, turning to the next Platoon Leader, ¡°Valentine, you¡¯re up.¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir,¡± she said, standing to address the room with her fast-paced speech, ¡°Blackrock Squad was successful in our mission, but we have several casualties. Of those, only one was injured mortally. He is being transferred to the Re:Birth server as we speak.¡±

    ¡°Is he joining the Steel Cast? Do I need to call for backfill from Algol?¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir, he didn¡¯t retain enough organic tissue for Li-Tech to provide life support. As you know, it can easily take several months for a soldier to be fully comfortable in their new skin. Even when he recovers, we know he will be reassigned to the Steel Brigade. If possible, we request a replacement Possessor.¡±

    The Lieutenant stopped talking but did not take her seat.

    ¡°Well, spit it out. We don¡¯t have all day.¡±

    ¡°Sir, the only reason we suffered such heavy injuries is that one of those black creatures Monroe¡¯s team found on our last deployment attacked. These soldiers are only alive today because someone had the bright idea of hitting it with a broken pipe instead of using Light. It wasn¡¯t exactly effective, but it distracted the creature long enough to get the Possessor¡¯s memory imprint. For the sake of everyone¡¯s stomach, I will only share the photos with you personally.¡±

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Stars¡­¡± Moran said softly as he went over the damage, his demeanor softening for the first time.

    ¡°That¡¯s about what I said as well. We need a way to fight these things, especially since Fourth has the only deployable optic in our company.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll begin training with Monroe to get an understanding of how to fight them so I can teach the non-combatant types. But I will be ready to deploy if need be,¡± Summers said, interjecting himself into the conversation.

    ¡°Thank you, First Sergeant. Eventually, Blackrock took the security terminal in the mountains and re-armed the system. Based on my observation, it was only a matter of minutes before the planetwide defense grid was back up and ready for action. Even if Light-based weaponry cannot harm those¡­ things, the orbital network will eliminate any of their Raak¡¯Shee lackeys that dares to surface.¡± Not waiting for a reply, the Lieutenant promptly took her seat.

    ¡°Sergeant Scott, anything else to add?¡± Moran asked.

    ¡°No Sir. The LT gave you everything you needed to know. If I could give a better report, I would be in her place,¡± the Sergeant replied from his chair.

    ¡°I would still like to know your take, and I would like you to do it while standing.¡±

    ¡°Sir, no offense, but if I could stand on my own, I wouldn¡¯t be in this room with you right now. I would be in the infirmary, waiting for my people. I get paid to kill things. I do not get paid to write reports.¡± Scott said, gesturing to his bandaged thigh.

    From what Jack gathered, this mission had nearly destroyed third platoon. In order to get close enough to the security control center, they were forced to fight their way through a veritable army of Raak¡¯Shee.

    All in all, they eliminated somewhere around eighty enemy soldiers, but the victory was not without losses. Nearly all their soldiers were wounded badly enough for an extensive stay in the infirmary. If not for some well timed aerial support from a last-minute cavalry deployment, there wouldn¡¯t be a single soul standing in their place.

    It was the unfortunate price of battle.

    ¡°Lieutenant Hawkins, report.¡± The Lieutenant Colonel said, turning to Jack¡¯s platoon.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Hawkins said, getting to his feet and falling into attention, ¡°Turaspeir did much better than anyone expected. Especially considering the unforeseen circumstances they were in, I doubt anyone else at their skill level could¡¯ve pulled it off. They broke in, killed enemy soldiers, and completed the mission. They only fought when needed, quickly deducing the most efficient method of dealing with the enemy when they did. Most of the time, they handled the enemy with stealth rather than brute force.¡±

    ¡°And the secondary objective?¡±

    ¡°They successfully recovered four cases of undiluted Serum. However, I don¡¯t suspect that will be a major setback much longer. But either way, those cases have already been serialized and sent to Algol via remote drone.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± he said, motioning for Hawkins to sit. ¡°Monroe?¡±

    ¡°Sir, those creatures were in the factory as well. All in all, we ran into three of them. The one hunting Alexander and Neilson, the one that took Walker¡¯s leg, and the one at the end of the mission.¡±

    ¡°Did you kill them?¡± Moran asked.

    ¡°We killed one, and we did it the same way as before. I was able to tie a single thread to its body and strip it of the natural immunity to Li-Tech they seem to have. If Command needs a more detailed explanation, I would be glad to forward the helmet recordings. That said, the one from the slope, and the one the Captain helped us escape from, remain alive.¡±

    ¡°And the civilian?¡±

    ¡°Apparently, she was captured early in the occupation, but the timeline doesn¡¯t line up. As much as I hate to say it, keeping a constant watch on her would be prudent. From what I gather, her jailer was the enemy leader. Again, the only reason half of my team survived is because of the Captain¡¯s sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°I can appreciate that. Will Turaspeir continue to question her?¡±

    ¡°In time, but right now we need to lick our wounds and forget that the military world exists,¡± Jack said, knowing he was walking a fine line of insubordination with the comment.

    ¡°Ha! I¡¯ve been there, Sergeant. I can¡¯t tell you the number of times I¡¯ve had to reconstitute myself after a mission.¡± The Colonel laughed, his irritation draining away in the face of such a bold statement, ¡°What can an old soldier do to make these fights less one-sided?¡±

    ¡°Create more Optics.¡± Jack replied with a shrug.

    ¡°Which is pure chance. What are your injuries?¡±

    ¡°Specialist Walker lost a leg, and I¡¯m not entirely sure how long it will be until she is back in fighting shape. West sustained several injuries, but Alfson healed him in the field. Unfortunately, the power drain on everyone was so intense that I¡¯m all but certain they will pass out in this chamber.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Moran said, turning back to the company. ¡°You all did incredible work out there, soldiers. I hate to bench a company in wartime, but if anyone has earned it¡­¡±

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± a Georgia twang filled the room, cutting the Colonel off, ¡°I hate to interrupt, but this will just be a second.¡±

    The look of irritation returned as Moran glared at Dave in annoyance. After a long minute, he motioned for the Aegis to continue.

    ¡°Sir, while we were in the Vault, we ran across some neat toys. We left most of them on the shelves, but we brought a few home with us.¡±

    ¡°You just¡­ took equipment that you knew wasn¡¯t complete? Under whose authority did you raid those shelves?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ Officer Hargrave?¡±

    The room went quiet. While the Colonel could make him turn everything over, anything considered a gift from one of the seven Unranked Officers was the sole property of the recipient.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And I strapped one to my armor. It is a shield-boosting module. I want to volunteer for the experiments, even if it only results in a short boost of power.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not. Not even if the researcher was Hargrave himself,¡± the Colonel snapped.

    ¡°Well¡­ it wasn¡¯t Officer Hargrave,¡± Dave said sheepishly.

    ¡°Who was it?¡±

    ¡°The initials on the plaque were FB, and there was a reference to another module with the initials TK. The one on the shield module hinted he had a way to make everything safe, but couldn¡¯t find volunteers,¡± Dave answered. ¡°Sir, if these two technologies can make me strong enough to save just one life, it is worth it. If they prove successful and can eventually be used by any Aegis, we could save countless lives.¡±

    ¡°You can save lives by perfecting your craft,¡± he replied, giving no ground.

    ¡°You know what I think?¡± an obnoxiously loud voice interrupted the conversation.

    The disturbance broke what little remained of their military decorum. All eyes turned toward the source of the noise and found an almost comically large Latin man leaning against the back wall of the chamber. His deeply tanned skin, massive size, and long unruly hair instantly gave away his identity.

    ¡°I think that if a soldier is willing to undergo an unknown quantity of tests on the off chance that he might save a life, we should allow it.¡±

    ¡°Officer Barca,¡± Moran replied, irritation dripping from his tone.

    The Colonel showed clear annoyance at the man''s presence, but the rest of the company was visibly shocked.

    ¡°Sir, I¡¯m surprised. Usually, my office notifies me when one of you is onboard. Something as menial as an after-action report rarely draws the attention of an Unranked Officer.¡±

    ¡°I know I¡¯m breaking protocol, Lieutenant Colonel. I simply don¡¯t care. Just as a little secret between you and me¡­ and apparently Charlie Company, Toby removed my name from that protocol years ago. He said it was getting far too tedious to track my comings and goings,¡± he replied, ignoring the Colonel¡¯s tone as he walked to the center platform with a laugh, ¡°but we don¡¯t have time to talk about what once was. If this young man wants to volunteer for amplification experiments, who are you to stop him? At best, he will turn the tide of battle when things are going south. At worst? At worst, he has to endure a few weeks of detox while Theresa removes the mental pathways that lead to addiction.¡±

    Silence lingered as Barca fell quiet. While thinking about his response, Lieutenant Colonel Moran caught Dave¡¯s gaze. Was it smart to allow this soldier to play fast and loose with his own life? No.

    But was it really that risky? Did Moran even have a say in this transaction?

    ¡°Specialist, do you understand what you¡¯re signing up for?¡± he asked, breaking the quiet.

    ¡°Honestly, no. But if I¡¯m going to be responsible for my team¡¯s safety, I have to try.¡±

    It was the response Moran both expected and feared. It was the short-sighted answer of someone who hadn¡¯t trained enough but still expected power to be handed to them.

    ¡°And is that not something that training can help rectify?¡± He asked, slipping a small dart into his hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it can, but will training alone be enough to fight back?¡±

    Moran struck while Dave was busy looking at his platoon for reassurance.

    With a flick of his wrist, a dart flew on a direct path for the Aegis¡¯s right shoulder. It was a test. One that would cost the trust of this soldier. That was something he was willing to live with if it meant forcing this child to understand.

    ¡°What the hell, man?¡±

    That¡­

    That was not the response Moran expected.

    Pulling the Specialist¡¯s vision into his own, it shocked the Colonel to see the dart hanging in the air a quarter inch from Dave¡¯s flesh.

    ¡°That was a test,¡± Moran replied. ¡°if I would have hit you, I wouldn¡¯t have allowed you to take place in these trials. Again, do you understand the danger of what you¡¯re signing up for?¡±

    ¡°Sir, pardon my bluntness, but what part of my previous statement was unclear? No, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m getting into, but I¡¯m willing to try anything to keep my friends alive.¡±

    The disrespectful tone grated on him, but Moran recognized it was his own fault.

    ¡°Very well. Officer Barca, I will pass this on to Captain Griffin when she is back on her feet. You may approach West for these experiments, but I ask that you wait until Turaspeir is on the road to recovery.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Barca said, clapping Moran on the shoulder, ¡°I¡¯m not a monster. West, I¡¯ll be coming by your cabin to talk about the process before we commit to anything.¡±

    ¡°Company, fall out,¡± Moran said, turning on his heel and walking out of the briefing room.

    The things that happened to Charlie Company brought back memories that were better left forgotten.

    Fortunately, he knew just how to forget those memories again.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 86

    ¡°The Steel Cast program is simply too easy to abuse. I don¡¯t really care how many we make as much as I care about how many we could avoid. How many times has someone gone missing during an operation only to show up as a Cast six months later?¡± ¨C Overheard in the NCO club, speaker unknown.

    Jack stood outside the operating room and watched through a layer of glass as Phantom doctors slowly put his friend back together. The AHF wasn¡¯t able to throw their best at this surgery, but limb replacements were so common almost any Phantom could do it blindfolded.

    That didn¡¯t make watching it any easier.

    Thea worked tirelessly; her strong shoulders hunched as the reconstruction reached its seventh hour. She¡¯d originally intended to get some sleep after the briefing, but instead made a beeline for Nessa after hearing the procedure was still in progress.

    She was past the point of hurting herself, but didn¡¯t care. Even if it nearly killed her, Thea would be there until the Li-Tech leg was properly integrated with Nessa¡¯s body.

    Sadly, despite as far as he¡¯d come in the last two years, all Jack could do was watch.

    And watch, he did.

    He was deep in his power, forcing himself to watch the medical procedure needed because of his incompetence. It wasn¡¯t healthy to obsess over something like this, but how could he not? Wasn¡¯t he supposed to care about the people under his command?

    In another wing, he watched the doctor record a note that Captain Griffin may never regain her prior capabilities. Every moment of glory had a cost. It just turned out the cost today was potentially her future in the AHF. A person couldn¡¯t just take over the empty shell of Benjamin Hargrave and walk away with no repercussions.

    Back in the operating room, Thea and the doctor worked hard to fuse bone and metal.

    He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt this experience would affect Nessa more than she would ever admit. Even without knowing her past very well¡ªher extremely traumatic life left her more than a little tight-lipped¡ªhe knew she was always seeking the next level of physical perfection.

    ¡°How does she look?¡± Warren asked, walking up with Candice in tow.

    ¡°Rough,¡± he said, ¡°but knowing her, she will just act like it¡¯s another day in the office.¡±

    ¡°We can only hope. Nessa is far more complex than you guys know, and she does her best to hide that fact from anyone.¡±

    ¡°Why? Does she think we will judge her for something?¡± Candice asked.

    ¡°She does. She thinks the moment we saw weakness in her, we would lose respect and kick her out of the squad. So, she wears the mask: She¡¯s mean because she cares, her anger fuels the inner fire, and she¡¯s reserved because most people in her life have done everything possible to show her how worthless she was,¡± Warren explained sadly.

    ¡°But she¡¯s the most skilled person in our squad,¡± Jack said. ¡°She shouldn¡¯t be so hard on herself. Doesn¡¯t she know we are all here to stand with her?¡±

    ¡°Yes Jack, don¡¯t you know we¡¯re all here and we stand with you? You have the same problem as Nessa, but not for the same reason. You¡¯ve convinced yourself that every shortcoming is your fault,¡± Warren replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

    ¡°But it is my fault. If I were a better lead¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh, cut the crap. Not everything that happens is because of you. Ortiz didn¡¯t die because of you, Nessa wasn¡¯t hurt because of you,¡± Candice said, cutting him off, ¡°We all survived because of Ortiz¡¯s sacrifice and your quick thinking, Nessa survived because you made the right call and left her on the ground while we finished killing that bastard.¡±

    ¡°But the Captain,¡± Jack started.

    ¡°The Captain got hurt because she made the choice to save our squad when nobody else could. There is nothing, not a damned thing, you could¡¯ve done better in that scenario,¡± Warren said.

    ¡°Thea looks like she¡¯s about to collapse.¡± Candice said, changing the subject.

    ¡°She¡¯s close to it. Her HUD has been yelling at her to stop channeling Light for about an hour now. Each time, she has an orderly bring her some food, and she gets right back to it,¡± Jack said. ¡°She really is amazing.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s really going to get hurt like Griffin if she doesn¡¯t stop. There are more Phantoms on the ship,¡± Candice said, a look of worry etched on her face.

    ¡°That¡¯s what makes them such a solid couple. Neither one knows when to step back and let others take the reins. Meanwhile, they complain that nobody else is helping,¡± Warren replied, drawing a glare from Jack, ¡°What? You know it¡¯s true. Even the slightest amount of introspection would tell you this.¡±

    ¡°Is this your way of telling me to take a rest?¡± Jack asked.

    ¡°Yes, it is. But before you do, go get that Viking girl out of the O.R. and drag her back to your cabin. She¡¯s visibly drained, and I know for a fact you¡¯re still maintaining three threads. How long is this now, fourteen hours?¡±

    ¡°Closer to twenty.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to blind yourself if you don¡¯t quit. The injured will be fine without your presence,¡± Warren said, tapping on the glass to get a nurse¡¯s attention and motioning to Thea.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Jack conceded after seeing the gaunt look on Thea¡¯s face. Warren was right, he could barely maintain the threads anymore, and Thea was closer to becoming another patient than she wasn¡¯t. It was time to get some food, and then some sleep. Warren was right, continuing to push themselves like this would only end in more people getting hurt.

    It was good advice, and not worth wasting.

    ~~**~~

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°How¡¯s the leg?¡± Warren asked, stepping into the recovery room with an obnoxious smile plastered on his face.

    ¡°Down the throat of some bastard right before he died,¡± Nessa replied in a mockingly chipper voice. She never felt like she could talk to the others like this, but Warren was a different matter entirely. He knew what her layers of protection concealed, and he knew why she had them.

    After all, he¡¯d been right beside her, living a waking nightmare for years.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a real bitch when that happens. At least it¡¯s not as bad as when I got my dick stuck in a toaster. Do you remember that?¡±

    Nessa snorted at the memory. It happened during a dare on one of the few nights they¡¯d been able to escape their constant watch. And, with typical teenage stupidity, they immediately found the worst ideas possible and did all of them.

    ¡°I remember that one. You¡¯re lucky I had my pocket knife with me, or you would have been trying to explain something quite embarrassing to those parents of yours.¡±

    ¡°If I recall, the only reason I did it was because you tried to call my bluff. I think I said: ¡®I¡¯d rather have sex with a toaster than a woman?¡¯¡± he replied, sitting at the foot of her bed.

    ¡°Yeah, well, you proved how little attraction you have for women,¡± pulling herself to a sitting position, she took her first look at her newly attached limb, ¡°Before I went out, I asked them if it was possible to make it match my skin tone¡­ I saw Roberts, and I didn¡¯t want to look like that.¡±

    ¡°I get it. Just because you¡¯re a cyborg now doesn¡¯t mean you want the entire universe to know. Wait¡­ Does this mean your kind hides among us humans?¡±

    ¡°Not sure, but I have the slightest inclination to throw this tray of food at you. Do you think that¡¯s the machine directive to kill you?¡± She said, picking up a plate of cold spaghetti and moving as if to throw it.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d imagine the plan is a little more involved than covering your friend in cold pasta.¡±

    ¡°Nope, that¡¯s the directive, and I¡¯m sticking to it.¡±

    They laughed, and she set the plate of truly unappetizing food back on a tray. When they met each other¡¯s gaze again, the jokes were gone. Only the faces of people who¡¯d seen far too much in far too short a time remained.

    ¡°Did they fully integrate it yet?¡± Warren asked, grabbing her calf and feeling the new leg.

    It was almost perfect. The skin was soft yet pliable like real human flesh. The doctor camouflaged it well, hiding the specially crafted woven titanium polymer from all but the keenest observer. If he didn¡¯t know better, Warren would¡¯ve never known that cables and servos had replaced muscle and bone.

    But neither of them was untrained. The leg was flawless, and they both knew the number of scars that covered her body like a woven tapestry. Each one was both a lesson from her father and the physical manifestation of her weakness.

    ¡°It¡¯s only connected to my HUD at the moment. The doctor says they need to wait to implant the interface once my body has recovered enough to handle it. Until then I¡¯m a slave to this stupid thing,¡± she said, waving to her HUD, ¡°Without it, I can¡¯t even walk.¡±

    Nessa pulled the knee to her chest and prodded the material where flesh met tech. On one side, it was her own familiar skin, cool to the air, yet warming the longer she touched it. Beyond that, the material had an unnatural heat. Unlike her true body, it radiated a perfect, steady temperature.

    Perfect, but alien.

    ¡°They also claim that I¡¯ll start feeling it again after the implant, but I¡¯m not so sure about that. Will it feel like my old one? The doctor claims it has just as many nerve endings as a human leg, but I have my fears about that. Will I be able to move like myself? It¡¯s going to be attached to my brain, so the answer should be yes¡­¡± She lifted her leg, stretching it out like a dancer getting ready for a show, ¡°Will I ever be able to truly unplug, or will I be reliant on my power to live in any recognizable fashion?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Right now, you only have one thing to go on, and that¡¯s what they decide to tell you. They claim you¡¯ll have everything you lost and more, but who knows how true that really is? I imagine the tech has to match the level of danger out there, but how many Breakers are like you? How many learned to wield a blade before they could walk?¡± Warren said quietly, laying down beside his oldest friend and holding her.

    It wasn¡¯t the grasp of a lover, it never would be, but something even more precious to Nessa. Every time that bastard hurt her, Warren had been there to bandage the wounds. Every time her father had torn her down to a shadow of herself, Warren made her believe she could grow stronger. Warren was like a brother to her. It was a bond that was formed over many years, and it was one that would last a lifetime.

    ¡°What I can tell you is that no matter what, I¡¯ll be right here with you. Until you¡¯ve regained yourself in both body and mind, I¡¯ll be here. If that means being your punching bag, again, I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, taking comfort in his presence. She was glad that he was here just to be here and not because he was looking for something she could never give. It was something most men didn¡¯t understand, but he did. ¡°But right now, I need a beer and something dead to eat. I don¡¯t really care what kind of beer, and I don¡¯t much mind where the meat comes from.¡±

    ¡°Well then, I guess we¡¯re on our way out of here. You sure the Phantoms won¡¯t beat me with a stick if I smuggle you out?¡± Warren asked, hopping off the bed and offering his hand.

    ¡°That would make you far too happy.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say they would beat my stick, but if that¡¯s the direction we¡¯re going, there are more than a few that look like they could fill that hole rather nicely.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just go,¡± she said with a dejected sigh. ¡°The doctor said the recovery time was nonexistent, but I will need to use you as a crutch.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t use me as your stick. That would make you far too happy,¡± he said, smiling as he grabbed a fresh set of boots from the corner.

    ¡°That makes no sense¡­ at all.¡±

    Slowly pulling a new boot over new skin, she silently lamented the loss of her old pair. Sure, standard-issue boots would shape to the wearer within moments of first being put on, but like her leg, they felt alien. There was still a strong sense of loss for the old leg, and she suspected it would be this way for a while. Without the brain implant, the new leg was just an extension of her armor. It barely reacted to her commands, and when it did, it was like her thoughts were being processed through a strainer.

    Wrapping an arm around Warren¡¯s shoulder, the pair hobbled out of the room and down the hall. They were almost home free, but an orderly turned a corner right as Warren gave the command for the elevator doors to open.

    ¡°Hey! Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± the man shouted, making a scene in the hallway, ¡°Specialist Alexander, I know you¡¯re not trying to take this soldier from my sick bay. She just had a limb re-attachment and is still in recovery.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Corporal, we figured it wouldn¡¯t be a big deal,¡± Warren said. ¡°Doc said she would be fine after surgery long as she didn¡¯t overdo it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not taking my patient!¡±

    ¡°Our medic will be with her all night. If something happens, Alfson will be on the scene faster than you could get to her room from wherever it is you spend the night jerking off. But you need to check yourself. No ¡®re-attachment¡¯ happened today. Her leg, the real one, got eaten by an entity you¡¯ve only heard stories about. So unless you¡¯re prepared to go down to the planet, find the puddle of goo that was the creature, take Nessa¡¯s charred stick of a leg back, and sew it on, you really need to watch what you say.¡±

    The orderly went pale. He knew many soldiers were injured during the most recent mission, but hearing even those tiny few details made him want to be sick.

    ¡°She needs rest,¡± the orderly said quietly.

    ¡°This woman is a hero to her squad and her company. I know that proper rest would do her some good, but so will good food and the presence of her friends. Now, please move before she decides to test how far she can shove a foot up your ass.¡±

    Taking a cautionary step back, the orderly played his next card. ¡°What about the integration chip? It still needs to be done.¡±

    ¡°What about it? They can¡¯t install it without her. And since she can¡¯t remove her HUD without losing the ability to walk, I promise she won¡¯t miss the message to come down here.¡±

    ¡°Please move, Corporal,¡± Nessa said tiredly, ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±

    The pair moved to sidestep the orderly, and he let them. Trying to try one last time, he asked, ¡°What happens if you can¡¯t work the thing?¡±

    ¡°Well, that would really suck, wouldn¡¯t it? Luckily, I¡¯ve got a squad at my back, both on the field and off. At the very least, we have a Possessor that can help me back, and at worst we have a Dave.¡±

    ¡°A Dave?¡± he asked with a confused look on his face while holding open the elevator doors.

    ¡°Yeah, a Dave. If I can¡¯t walk back here, he¡¯ll carry me,¡± she smiled, pushing his hand away from the doors and allowing them to close, ¡°I¡¯ll be back for the implant, don¡¯t worry about me too much while I¡¯m gone.¡±

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 87

    ¡°We, as a society, don¡¯t put nearly enough stock into the effects of combat on the human mind. So many of you immediately assume that soldiers want to kill babies and whatnot. Do you want to know the truth? The truth is; most soldiers couldn¡¯t care less. They don¡¯t know the enemy, nor do they hate the beings the senate forces them to fight. But yet, the average civilian treats soldiers like dirt. It¡¯s embarrassing.¡± ¨C From Star Talk in the Morning with Joe Braddish.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how we all made it through today,¡± Jack said, collapsing onto the bed in their cabin. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure we all passed our limits at least once. Some of us might never recover fully¡­¡±

    The mission took its toll on every member of Spier squad. It chewed them up and spat them back out as a shadow of what they once were. Thea¡¯s face was gaunt. She¡¯d given everything she had and was now paying the price of overusing her power.

    ¡°No, they will recover. If I have to spend a month healing them, they will recover,¡± she said, removing her blood-soaked jacket and throwing it in the laundry chute.

    ¡°You need to recover first. Pushing yourself that hard won¡¯t help anyone if you¡¯re overworked when we really need you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s crap and you know it. The combat types get to rest¡­ medics never get to see the end,¡± she lamented while removing the rest of her uniform.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. Thea, you have to take a moment for yourself. Other Phantoms can step up if you¡¯re too tired.¡±

    She whirled and threw a soiled boot at his head. ¡°Yeah, they can. But then what? How do I look Ness in the eyes and say that I was just too tired? How do I look at Evee and say ¡®sorry for the torture, I need to take a quick nap.¡¯ I know I¡¯m doing my best, and I¡¯m ok with that. But you know phantoms don¡¯t have the luxury of slowing down.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you do. You¡¯re still human with human limits. You¡¯re not Steel Cast, and you¡¯re not Officer Kos. You¡¯re Thea Alfson and, as much as I believe in you, you have limits.¡±

    ¡°Are they greater or less than yours?¡± she asked, retrieving the boot and shoving it into the cleaner with her jacket.

    ¡°Yours? Much greater. The amount of Light you channeled today was more than I¡¯ve used in the last two missions. But even if I could have kept going, Warren stopped me before I blinded myself,¡± he said, stripping off his uniform, ¡°Thea, we aren¡¯t immortal.¡±

    The tough fa?ade cracked, and all the pressure of the day finally spilled out. ¡°Why? Why do we have to see these horrible things? Do you know how many dead civilians I found after Evee? Fourteen. They tortured fourteen people for information they probably didn¡¯t have. Hurt them so badly that even if I found them alive, I would have been forced to choose who to save and who to let die.¡±

    ¡°The universe is a truly horrific place. The only thing we can do is hang on to each other,¡± he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

    ¡°But why does it have to be so bad? Why can¡¯t we come to an agreement with the other races? Why do we get to claim land for ourselves if we¡¯re stealing it from everyone else?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t have those answers.¡±

    ¡°Will it ever end?¡±

    ¡°One day¡­ maybe.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight forever. This isn¡¯t what I expected when they told me I would see the stars,¡± she said, pulling away to step into the shower.

    She was right. That¡¯s not why either of them joined, but it was all they¡¯d seen. Ever since leaving Algol, it had been mission after mission, battle after battle.

    Today she was washing off the blood of a friend that was still alive. But it was only a matter of time before it was the blood of a friend¡­ just like Ortiz.

    Pulling up his HUD, Jack searched for a place they could one day call home. There was no way that dream would come true anytime soon, but even the idea of having a place of their own was alluring. If and when they were free of the AHF, they could put down their weapons and enjoy life once more.

    ¡°Can I assume the others are already waiting for us?¡± She asked, scrubbing every inch of her body to cleanse it of the mission, ¡°I want to raise a toast for the Captain. Without her, I would be dead.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re already there. She really did something incredible today, didn¡¯t she?¡± He replied.

    ¡°She really did, and she is paying the price for it now.¡±

    She stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and Jack took her place while she got dressed. Neither had many clothes that were not part of the uniform, but the loose-fitting T-shirt and jeans she slipped on were among her favorites.

    Not covered in blood, his shower was more to rinse off the layer of sweat that had accumulated under his armor. But like her, it was only a few minutes before he, too, was ready to leave.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Jack,¡± she said, ¡°Thank you for being there. And thank you for trusting me to handle myself. I heard what you said to Griffin. You made the hard choice instead of the one that made you comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Making that call killed me, but what I said was true. You and Dave are the number one pair for staying alive,¡± he replied, ¡°But saying it was hard is an understatement.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Thank you,¡± she repeated, staring at her feet. Looking up, she plastered a smile on her face, ¡°but now it¡¯s time to find the others and eat.¡±

    ~~**~~

    Even after a year of living on one, Nessa still had a hard time processing the sheer size of a hub-ship. If it wasn¡¯t for the intricate lift network, there was no way a person could get from point A to B in a reasonable amount of time.

    When the AHF designed these monstrosities, they¡¯d taken great care to include everything a soldier could need, or want, on long-term deployment. Each one had its own economy and would often trade goods and services with others in the fleet.

    It was almost like they went out of their way to ensure that every person stationed on the ship would have little to no desire to disembark for any measure of time.

    Back when the AHF started, the Unranked Officers put their foot down and told the government that it would not break families up just because a person was serving in the military. After arguing for nearly a decade, the first HUB was brought into service.

    ¡°You know, as much as I wanted to punch that orderly for trying to stop us¡­ he may have been right. I¡¯ve got some serious pain where my leg should be,¡± Nessa complained as the pair made their way to one of the many restaurants on board.

    ¡°Then why the hell did we leave? If you¡¯re still hurt, I should drag you back to sick bay and have the doc look you over,¡± Warren said with an exasperated sigh.

    ¡°Sure thing, right after we sit down to a meal. By the way, where are we going?¡±

    ¡°There is a place that just opened up on the upper decks. A guy from Nebula told me they make a solid fish and chips,¡± Warren said, possessing the lift to open the doors, ¡°But if that¡¯s too far, we can go ba¡­¡±

    ¡°You better not finish that sentence. How long has this place been open?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ a few weeks?¡± He replied cautiously.

    ¡°And how long have you known it was there?¡±

    ¡°Since the day after¡­¡±

    Her eyes turned dark, and a crimson glow encased her hands. ¡°You mean to tell me we¡¯ve had a real Irish place for weeks, and you never mentioned it?¡±

    Any onlookers watching the scene unfold would have thought Warren was about to die for the crime of hiding good food, but then Nessa broke into a huge grin and let go of her power. ¡°You asshole. I thought we were friends. How are you going to hide something like that when you know how much I love food from home?¡±

    ¡°If you recall, we¡¯ve been a bit busy lately. I was going to take you when we got back yesterday, but someone had to go and get a leg eaten off,¡± he said, stepping onto the lift and selecting their destination.

    ¡°Yet another thing I wish I could kill that bastard a second time for,¡± she laughed, ¡°hey, do you think I¡¯ll be able to kick a hole through walls and stuff now?¡±

    ¡°You could before. What changed?¡±

    She kept up the lighthearted banter as they traveled, but inside she was still a whirlwind of emotions. The constant reminders of her handicap stung in ways that were hard to explain. The fear and worry concerning her ability to perform flooded her mind and sent her into a spiral of recent memory.

    The doctor claimed she wouldn¡¯t feel any pain after the implant was done. Citing that because they bonded the new limb to her nervous system, her brain would learn to cope with the loss. It would almost be like nothing ever happened.

    But she still remembered the last moments of that fight.

    The pain as the tentacles wrapped around her, squeezing her leg like a starving boa constrictor.

    The sharp points of stone that were the creature¡¯s teeth sawed through the armor like butter. Grinding and tearing metal right before ripping through flesh and bone.

    She could feel¡­ She could feel¡­ She could¡­

    The doors opened, and the unmistakable scent of fried haddock filled the compartment. Across the walkway, a restaurant looked like someone had plucked it right out of downtown Dublin. Every inch screamed Ireland, from the bright red fa?ade to the swinging double doors.

    A sign hanging above the door erased any doubt this place was owned by one of her countrymen.

    The New Temple Bar

    It was like someone had taken the memory directly out of her childhood and built it board for board. In the few places where the endless racks of whiskey weren¡¯t on display, they darkened the wood to match the color of its progenitor back on Earth. Hand carved stools surrounded small tables, dotting the softly lit room like mushrooms in a forest.

    In a dimly lit corner was a large table with seven figures, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for something. Nessa watched as one lifted a glass in toast, laughing as she spoke. In one fluid motion, the woman tipped the mug to her lips and took a deep pull that was echoed amongst the others.

    ¡°I thought this meal was supposed to just be the two of us,¡± Nessa said, looking at Warren as if he¡¯d done something wrong, which in her eyes, he had.

    ¡°It was, and then I saw you trying to cover how you really feel in that elevator and ignoring what your body was telling you. Unfortunately, telling you to relax has never worked, so the next best thing was to bring your family here,¡± Warren replied.

    ¡°They¡¯re not my family,¡± she said sternly.

    He knew how touchy she was about that word. The notion of family had only ever meant pain to her. Now that she had people who cared enough to risk their lives to protect her, she didn¡¯t know how to feel or react. These people were not her father, and she needed to understand that.

    ¡°Yeah, you keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. But these people are your brothers and sisters in arms just as much as I am. We care about you more than literally anyone else in this universe, and you know that for a fact. So, how about you knuckle up, stop being so damned thick-headed, and listen to what they say?¡±

    ¡°And if I want to leave instead?¡±

    ¡°Too bad.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit, I¡¯ll leave if I want.¡± Trying to walk away, her new Li-Tech leg stopped responding to her commands. Turning a burning gaze on her friend, she demanded that he release his control of it.

    ¡°Too. Bad. You¡¯re going to sit down at that table and listen to what they have to say. If you still have a problem with them or me, I¡¯ll help you file a change of unit request tomorrow.¡±

    He¡¯d gotten to her with that last one. There was no doubt in his mind that she would jump through fire for these people. After this, she would be unable to deny that Turaspeir would do the same for her.

    Looking at the ground, she amended a thought she wasn¡¯t ready to speak. These people were her family, and in a deeper way than her own ever was. If it meant losing another limb, she would cut it off herself to keep her true family safe.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 88

    ¡°Hello? Is anyone out there? If you are, if you¡¯re alive, know that you¡¯re not alone. We are few, but according to Vandre, we are enough to restart society. If you¡¯re out there, know that Earth still stands. We have sick, we have wounded, but we are alive.¡± ¨C Message received after the collapse, recording of questionable value.

    Nessa walked hesitantly to the table, nervous they would say something about her defeat at the hands of an enemy. But this, this wasn¡¯t a battlefield, was it?

    When she really thought about it, it was ironic that she was always willing to charge into battle with nothing more than a light suit of armor and a sword. But social gatherings, especially ones where she was the center of focus, required significantly more effort for her to stand up and be seen.

    ¡°So, you bastards came to an Irish pub without me?¡± she said, plastering on a false smile.

    It was a face she¡¯d worn her entire life, and it was one she would continue to wear until she was as comfortable with these people as she was with Warren.

    ¡°Not at all. In fact, we picked this place for you,¡± Jack said, motioning to an open chair, ¡°but I think we¡¯re all just a little surprised you left sick bay.¡±

    ¡°Having a leg eaten off is not the same as being sick. And besides, the doctor said everything went as well as can be expected.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but that doesn¡¯t mean you should leave the second you can stand,¡± Thea said, raising her eyebrows.

    ¡°There goes mom. Ness, I wouldn¡¯t piss her off too much or she just might drag you back to the hospital.¡± Dave said, his customary wide grin beaming like the sun, ¡°Granted, I¡¯m pretty sure we would all eat in your hospital room if it meant keeping you from doing something stupid.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve no desire to go back to that damned place until they are ready for the implant. Until then, I want to have a meal with my friends and sleep in my bed,¡± Nessa replied, ignoring Warren¡¯s glare and waving for a drink. ¡°So, how did the after-action go?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, better for us than others,¡± Jack replied, drawing nods from around the table. ¡°One squad had a death, and others had a few on tables like yours.¡±

    ¡°So, my leg wasn¡¯t the big news we thought it was?¡±

    ¡°In terms of raw numbers, no. But that doesn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t have done a better job of leading us through that mess,¡± Jack said, taking a deep pull from his drink.

    ¡°Stop that,¡± she said sharply, ¡°I¡­ we don¡¯t need you taking the self-deprecation train to sad-land. I plan on doing enough of that for everyone. No one on our team died, and that is a win. But even if someone had, it¡¯s part of the job, isn¡¯t it? You would have gone through fire to get the memory print if one of us fell, and we know it. It¡¯s not your fault that I did the stupid thing and moved into melee range when bullets were doing well enough. Injury and loss are parts of being a warrior. It¡¯s fortunate that my loss is just a limb.¡±

    The table fell silent. They were used to Nessa chastising what she saw as pointless behavior, but this was a whole new level for her. She was a firm believer in the reality that a harsh truth didn¡¯t stop it from being true.

    ¡°The part that sucks is that you get cool robot parts before I do. In what world does the infantry chick get cybernetics before the mechanic? That breaks like¡­ all the rules!¡± Alec said, lifting the mood in a spectacularly insensitive fashion.

    The outburst helped break the tension, but didn¡¯t stop her introspection.

    She could say this ordeal didn¡¯t bother her, but that wasn¡¯t true. The loss of a leg was something she wished no one would have to live through, but she knew they would, despite her desire. A small part of her would¡¯ve preferred to die. At least then, they could¡¯ve brought her back as a Steel Cast and she wouldn¡¯t have to stare at the mark of her failure.

    The image of her leg swam through her memory. The place where the scars ended felt like fate taunting her, telling her she could have been reborn completely instead of just one stupid leg. Being an android was better than this mish-mash of parts, wasn¡¯t it?

    Interrupting a story she¡¯d heard Dave tell a thousand times, she raised a pint filled with a dark liquid. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting to say this since finding out there was an Irish bar on this boat. To friends, to comrades, to family, Sl¨¤inte!¡±

    The whole table raised their glasses and clinked them together, shouting the phrase into the night. Taking a good long drink from hers, Nessa hoped she could fake her happiness long enough for it to become real. If nothing else, having people by her side would help to drive away the demons¡­ wouldn¡¯t it? Nessa saw these people cared about her in a way that was deeper than anything she¡¯d known before. The fact that they were here with her proved it.

    It wasn¡¯t perfect, but was perfect really a thing?

    She would overcome this pain. She would force herself out of the shadows of her mind and into the light, forever refusing to let go. She wouldn¡¯t back down, she wouldn¡¯t give in.

    To steal the phrase Jack was so fond of; she would rise.

    ~~**~~

    ¡°There you are!¡± Sergeant Sanchez shouted. His voice cutting through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking all over this stars-cursed ship. If it wouldn¡¯t have been for Alfson, I would¡¯ve never found you.¡±

    Jack broke off his conversation with Thea to look toward the unexpected voice in confusion as a Latin man cut through the crowd and grabbed his shoulder, ¡°Eh hombre, you better not be too borracho or this night is about to get a lot less memorable.¡±

    ¡°Sanchez!¡± Jack said excitedly, clearly more than a little drunk. There wasn¡¯t a single member of Spier Squad that wasn¡¯t already there, but Jack and Thea were so far down that hole, it would truly be an ordeal to get home. ¡°You guys got pretty banged up, huh? How¡¯re you, you good?¡±

    ¡°Hombre, you¡¯re in for a rough ride tonight. Specialist Alfson, I need to commandeer your sergeant for a while¡­ he will be back in the morning,¡± he said, ignoring Jack¡¯s questions.

    ¡°Umm, where are you taking him?¡± she asked, trying to maintain her focus.

    ¡°To the NCO club. Now that he is one of us¨Chowever recently¨Cthere are certain traditions he needs to be part of.¡±

    ¡°Which are?¡±

    ¡°For him to know and you to find out when you¡¯re an NCO,¡± he said dismissively, pulling Jack toward the exit, ¡°I¡¯ll have him back in your cabin tonight, though I can¡¯t promise what kind of shape he¡¯ll be in.¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Before they could go too far, Thea reached out a hand to grab Jack¡¯s. Green Light danced across her fingertips and sank into his skin. Satisfied, she waved goodbye to Jack and turned back to the group.

    ¡°What did she just do?¡± Sanchez asked, walking toward the elevator.

    ¡°Healed me. She forced my body to metabolize the Alcohol and sober me up. But the better question is why I¡¯m being pulled away from the people that need me most tonight?¡± Jack explained, straightening the cuff of his sleeve and forming an audio Link to his group.

    ¡°Quite the skilled specialist, odd to think that you were all privates just a few days ago.¡±

    ¡°If it would¡¯ve meant not seeing the crap we have already, I would gladly have stayed a private.¡±

    The Latin man chucked, ¡°Man, you have no idea how many times I¡¯ve thought that exact thing during my career.¡±

    ¡°Why is war so terrible?¡±

    ¡°Because we tell the lie that it¡¯s fun. We hide what it¡¯s really like so the outside world can pretend that we have fun out here. Sometimes it is, but most of the time¡­¡± he said, stepping onto the platform and leaning against the far wall.

    ¡°After Ortiz, I just wanted to drink until I couldn¡¯t feel the pain anymore. How are you still sober knowing that you lost a guy?¡±

    ¡°Because he died, but I didn¡¯t lose him. Sure, one guy became Steel Cast today, but that just means he has another chance at life. Albeit in a different form than he once knew. The only difference between him and Specialist Walker is that she will still have an organic existence for a while.¡±

    ¡°A while?¡± Jack asked, eyebrows raised.

    ¡°Yeah, a while. Breakers tend to end up in the Steel Corps a lot more often than others. Mostly because combat specialists like them get killed more often.¡± Sanchez explained.

    ¡°That¡¯s a helpful thought.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I never said you would like my answers.¡±

    The platform eventually stopped to reveal a deck Jack had never seen, much less heard of. Until then, he never imagined that parts of the ship were inaccessible to everyone. In fact, he¡¯d always assumed the ship was an open book as long as you wanted to learn it. But now he was learning there were many places you couldn¡¯t go unless you met certain rank requirements.

    The entrance to the NCO club was a shrine to the soldiering profession, and exactly what he expected from a group of battle-hardened veterans.

    A large vault door¨Cprobably taken from an armory somewhere¨Cstood open as if waiting for guests. Above it, a plaque was emblazoned with the three most important words in an NCO''s career.

    This We¡¯ll Defend.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Jack asked, listening to the cheerful voices inside.

    ¡°This¡­ this is why we fight. This is why we drive our soldiers to be better every day, why we push for them to grow, and why we push ourselves to do the same. Inside that room are the faces of honor and sacrifice, the reminder of what we fight for and what it means to lose. Those words,¡± Sanchez explained, pointing to the plaque, ¡°Are part of the promise we make to the civilians that depend on us. It¡¯s a promise to deploy at a moment¡¯s notice, and to run to the fight so they don¡¯t have to.¡±

    Sanchez stared at those immortal words for a moment before walking through the door and leaving Jack behind.

    He was giving the new sergeant a choice; leave now and prove that he wasn¡¯t a true brother in arms, or walk in and accept the burden of responsibility. It should have been easy, but it was a decision that would either mark a turning point in his life or haunt him forever.

    For the first time, he thought he understood the why behind what they did.

    The idea of the AHF was to defend mankind, but what did it mean when they were attacking a planet with no humans on it? How were they defending? Was he just supposed to trust they were in the right? He knew there would be times when they were the bad guys. But that didn¡¯t mean he would do it alone.

    Walking slowly through the doorway, he made his decision.

    Immediately inside, he saw a wall lined with helmets. Below each was a small engraving that explained who the soldier was and why they¡¯d earned a place here. Approaching one covered in drawings clearly done by children, he read:

    SFC Andrew Baxton, Aegis of the Seventh Mechanized Infantry¡ªdied defending a school from an invasion of Malektor on New Avalon. His sacrifice saved 156 children. On his death, he was awarded the Golden Sun of Valor.

    ¡°The Wall of the Fallen,¡± a familiar voice said behind him.

    Turning, he saw First Sergeant Summers staring with a serene expression. His eyes were on the wall, but his mind was far, far away.

    Falling into Parade Rest, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, First Sergeant, I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±

    ¡°Would you just relax? I didn¡¯t like you doing that crap on Algol, and I don¡¯t like it here. When we are in this room, my name is Karyl,¡± the First Sergeant said, blinking away a memory. ¡°This is your first time here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ we haven¡¯t exactly had a lot of time since my promotion.¡±

    ¡°About a day, right?¡±

    ¡°Give or take,¡± Jack replied, trying to get used to this level of familiarity with Karyl. ¡°Why do we need to honor the fallen if they are reborn as Steel Cast? There shouldn¡¯t be any fallen.¡±

    ¡°On one hand, yes. However, this wall is for those who died in such a spectacular way, there is no coming back from it.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    In typical Summers fashion, he just pointed to the engraved plaque and waited for Jack to put the pieces together.

    ¡°The death was so traumatic, the mind couldn¡¯t survive,¡± Jack muttered, realizing for the first time that it was very possible to die in service to the AHF, ¡°but doesn¡¯t this just remind everyone of their eventual fate?¡±

    ¡°For some, maybe. For me, no. It reminds me that we fight for something greater than ourselves and that we are all heroes. Sure, it¡¯s a memorial, but more than that, it is inspiration.¡±

    They walked down the line of helmets, each one telling the story of the soldier who wore it. At the end of the row hung a large metal sheet with an inscription carved into its surface.

    ¡°The NCO creed. Your creed, now that you¡¯re one of us,¡± the older Optic said before reading aloud:

    I am a Non-Commissioned Officer,

    No one is more professional than I.

    I am a leader of Soldiers and a member of the military backbone,

    I will conduct myself at all times to bring honor to my title, my service, and my republic,

    I will never use my grade or position to attain pleasure, profit, or personal safety.

    Competence is my watchword,

    My two most basic responsibilities will always be at the forefront of my mind.

    I will accomplish the mission and ensure the welfare of my soldiers to the best of my ability.

    I will strive to remain technically and tactically proficient,

    I am aware of my role and will strive to fulfill the responsibilities inherent to it.

    All Soldiers are entitled to outstanding leadership, and I will provide that leadership.

    I will always place the needs of my Soldiers above my own,

    I will communicate with them constantly and never leave them uninformed.

    I will be fair and impartial when recommending both reward and punishment.

    I will earn the respect and confidence of both the Officers in my unit and my Soldiers.

    I will be loyal to those with whom I serve,

    I will exercise initiative by taking appropriate action in the absence of orders.

    I will not compromise my integrity, nor my morality.

    I will never forget that I am a leader, and I will always strive to be a better one.

    Silence lingered long after Karyl finished reading. It was more than just a jumble of words slapped together by someone with a grandiose vision; it was a promise to be the best leader¡ªand soldier¡ªyou could be. This creed wasn¡¯t something you could understand fully in passing. It took time to sink in.

    Time Jack would¡¯ve had if he¡¯d risen through the ranks like other soldiers.

    Sadly, the powers that be compelled Jack to assume the burden of responsibility long before he was ready.

    But that didn¡¯t matter. His job as a leader demanded he learn how to step up and be an example for his squad.

    ¡°It is so much more than the surface words, isn¡¯t it?¡± Jack asked, seeking confirmation of what he already knew. ¡°And the truth is; not a single person in this room can say they understand it fully. These words, they take a lifetime to achieve, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re more insightful than I give you credit for,¡± Karyl replied, walking toward a group of soldiers standing around a table. ¡°And yes, they take a lifetime. Luckily, a lifetime is what you have ahead of you.¡±

    Reaching the table, the first sergeant slammed a hand down to grab everyone¡¯s attention, ¡°Hey guys, we have a brand new sergeant here tonight and he¡¯s never been introduced to The Seven.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve met quite a few of them,¡± Jack said, immediately regretting the words as the room burst into laughter.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the same seven we¡¯re talking about, bud,¡± a big man said when the noise died down.

    The bartender set out seven shot glasses and filled them with brightly colored drinks that matched each of the corps. In the back of his mind, he hoped they were not terribly strong.

    ¡°Welcome to the ranks of the NCOs.¡± Summers said, ¡°It¡¯s time to show us what you¡¯re made of.¡±

    His hope was severely in vain.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 89

    ¡°Were you injured and can no longer work because of lasting pain? If so, then I have news for you! Soli-tech has developed an ¡®in home¡¯ Serum formula for the everyday joe. This does more than infuse you with Light; it will allow you to get Li-Tech replacements for spinal injuries, amputations, and more! Ask your doctor for more info!¡± ¨C Medical advertisement on the Mars colony.

    ¡°Ah, finally,¡± someone said when Dave opened his cabin door late that night to find none other than Frederick Barca sitting in the recliner across from his bunk. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡±

    The head of the Aegis Corps would only visit him in the dead of night for one reason. Until proven otherwise, though, he would assume it was for something bad and try his damnedest not to confess to something he might have done.

    ¡°Sir, not that I mind you visiting and all, but why are you in my room?¡± he asked, getting right to the point without beating around the bush. It was how his mama raised him, and it was how he was going to go through life.

    ¡°Because sitting on the floor in the hallway got uncomfortable about two hours ago.¡±

    Unfortunately, that raised more questions than it answered, but it didn¡¯t stop Dave from asking another, ¡°And how did you get in?¡±

    ¡°By being friends with Tobias and Sarath. Doors tend to open for you when those two are just a phone call away.¡±

    Noted. He thought, filing away the remark for future use, ¡°That makes more than a little sense. Hell, I woulda probably done the same in your shoes. What can I do for you, sir?¡±

    ¡°I thought you were the smart one in your group?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far. My team is pretty quick on the uptake,¡± he replied. In his limited experience with officers, he¡¯d learned to expect the unexpected. And when an officer wanted something, they almost always tried to flatter you before asking.

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about the others in your squad,¡± Frederick said, taking an almost comically long pull from a wooden tankard in his hand. ¡°I am here to talk about you. More specifically, the enhancement modules you¡¯ll be trying out. You know, the ones you so freely liberated from the vault.¡±

    ¡°The recording of Officer Hargrave told us to take what we needed,¡± he replied, worried that he was going to be brought up on charges or something.

    ¡°I know, but it doesn¡¯t make it a good idea. Please, sit,¡± he said, waving to Dave¡¯s bed. ¡°Would you like some ale before we get started? I brew it myself.¡±

    Confused and off balance, the Specialist shrugged his consent. Barca¡¯s hand took on the features of Gate travel, then the hand simply shattered.

    The only other time he¡¯d seen localized FTL travel was just a few hours ago when the Captain saved him and his fire team while using Officer Hargrave¡¯s body. Being able to witness something like this without being actively attacked really allowed him to grasp just how amazing it was.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me. I had a few friends over last night and haven¡¯t had time to clean up. Finding things blind from a few hundred light-years away is tough enough, but when they¡¯re not in the right spot ¨C ah-ha!¡±

    The Officer stopped talking as his hand reformed, holding a frosty mug filled with a dark amber liquid. Handing the drink to Dave, he repeated the process and sank back into his chair.

    ¡°You know, you really ought to get a better chair. Don¡¯t we pay you enough to get nice things?¡±

    ¡°I ¨C¡±

    ¡°No matter, this is your home. Next time I¡¯ll bring my own,¡± he said, leaving Dave to wonder if this would become a normal occurrence. ¡°Now, take a good deep drink and tell me it is not the best beverage you¡¯ve ever had.¡±

    Obeying the odd man, the quality of the ale and its incredibly rich flavors left Dave pleasantly surprised.

    ¡°What is this taste? I don¡¯t recognize it,¡± he asked, relaxing more than he cared to admit.

    ¡°It¡¯s from a berry only found on Domum. After we restored the atmosphere, seeds that were dormant for thousands of years woke up and grew. To me, it tastes like a sweet blackberry soaked in honey.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s amazing!¡±

    ¡°If you like that, you¡¯ll love the mead!¡± he said excitedly. ¡°It goes down so smooth; you¡¯ll swear it was just water. We drank it all last night, but I¡¯ll make more and leave it in your room, ok?¡±

    ¡°Ok¡­ You make your own drinks?¡± Dave asked incredulously, taking another pull from the mug.

    ¡°What else was I supposed to do in my free time for the last thousand years? Knit? Though¡­ I suppose I could¡¯ve mastered that by now,¡± he said, voice trailing off as he lost his train of thought.

    Draining the cup and placing it on a small table in the center of the room, he said, ¡°Well then, Dave, I didn¡¯t come here just to drink and shoot the bull. If you want another round, I¡¯ll be happy to oblige, but that is not our primary focus.¡±

    Barca stretched his arms and rolled his neck, popping it several times before continuing, ¡°You see Specialist, you are about to use something purely experimental. Everything I know about it comes from a point of failure. At best, we are working with educated guesses.¡±

    ¡°Ok,¡± he replied slowly, apprehension rising.

    ¡°The enhancement project Theresa and I worked on was canceled a long time ago, and for good reasons. Bottom line, we saw how much damage we could do if left unrestrained. If there was an entire battalion with our power, even if for only a moment, it could destroy worlds. Second, and more important to you, it seriously hurts the subjects. Many that used her enhancement serum became so addicted to its effects they couldn¡¯t live without it.¡±

    ¡°So why even offer it to me?¡±

    ¡°Because we all have to make our own choices in this world,¡± he said, reaching through time and space to retrieve a sandwich, ¡°and because she swears it¡¯s fixed.¡±

    ¡°Could I be as strong as you?¡± Dave tried to ignore the big man¡¯s strange behavior, but pulling a sandwich from the other side of the galaxy in the middle of a conversation was, frankly, weird.

    ¡°Honestly, probably not. No member of the Seven remains mortal in the slightest. As long as you are at least partially human, you can¡¯t reach our level, but you can get close,¡± the Aegis leader explained around a mouthful of bread and meat.

    ¡°You¡¯re not mortal?¡±

    ¡°Not really. Our DNA no longer has any characteristics of mortality, and we haven¡¯t aged since we took the serum. Honestly, we are basically solid Light-made flesh.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ so you¡¯re telling me you¡¯re nothing more than a big ball of sentient Light?¡± Dave asked, more than a little confused.

    ¡°Eh¡­ kind of.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­ I don¡¯t really know what to say to that. Can we talk about these experiments instead?¡±

    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°You said there is a chance I¡¯ll become heavily addicted to this stuff. What is the plan if that happens? Am I just screwed, or can we fix me?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± the Officer began slowly, ¡°It¡¯s a bit like heroin if you know anything about that. The first injection will hook you if the mixture is wrong. But don¡¯t worry, we will put you in a Light proof room for several weeks while you go through the withdrawals, and afterward, we will make sure that you can¡¯t get anywhere near it again.¡±

    Dave cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. ¡°So wait¡­ you throw me in a windowless room and wait. That¡¯s the entire plan? What about flashbacks, cravings, relapses, the whole nine?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you will have those. "But you won''t receive the enhancement serum again,¡± he said straight-faced, ¡°so you will likely seek other means of gratification until you fall in battle and are rebuilt as a Steel Cast.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a real shitty deal, you know that?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± he replied, taking another bite of the sandwich.

    ¡°Can I have another ale¡­ I need to think about this.¡±

    Reaching through space yet again, the Unranked Officer pulled out another frosty mug full of the amber liquid and handed it over.

    ¡°Any other drawbacks to this nightmare of a drug?¡±

    ¡°That one is interesting. The test subject we had the most success with lost his ability to craft Light for a day when it wore off. But while the drug was in his system, he could craft shields right about sixty percent of my maximum.¡±

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°And what can I craft now?¡±

    ¡°Maybe a tenth of one percent?¡± he shrugged.

    ¡°Holy hell, but losing my power for an entire day¡­ that is going to be risky in the field.¡±

    ¡°Learn how to be smart?¡±

    ¡°Thanks, I would¡¯ve never guessed that.¡± Dave said flatly.

    ¡°So, are you willing to give it a try?¡± Frederick asked.

    ¡°Yeah, I need to be stronger to fight these things. If I can¡¯t, there¡¯s no point in me even going on the next mission.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hard on yourself. The People are very tough enemies. Even Ben could only make one talk for a few moments.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Dave said, holding up a hand. ¡°You people have one of these things captive?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ No?¡± Frederick lied unconvincingly. ¡°Anyway. I figured that you¡¯d still be game. If this works for you, we can restart the experiments for all seven corps. You might just be the catalyst that makes the AHF truly unstoppable.¡±

    The two men fell quiet as they thought about what Frederick had just said. It implied that forces capable of matching¡ªand potentially surpassing¡ªhumanity¡¯s power were out there waiting in the shadows.

    What would happen if humanity had that level of power at its disposal? Would the ever-hungry human republic plunder and demolish even more worlds to make room for a growing population?

    ¡°Would that really be better for humanity?¡± Dave asked, breaking the silence. ¡°I mean, we would probably use that power to steamroll every habitable planet we find. Are we sure that¡¯s the right move for the universe as a whole?¡±

    ¡°No, in fact, I suspect it will be very bad for everyone that isn¡¯t human. Unfortunately, we have to look at the future. And right now, that means finding a way to defeat the enemy without endangering more lives than we already do.¡±

    ¡°If this works, and we can make a variation for every corps¡­ what about people like Jack?¡± he asked, taking a sip of ale.

    ¡°What about him?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s already had a second dose of Serum during our initial transformation. Would it work on him?¡±

    ¡°Depends. How strong is he now?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to judge Optics, but he can take people with him and act as a bridge for Possessors to reach further than normal.¡± He explained, tapping a finger on his temple as he thought, ¡°and he can already hold four or five separate links.¡±

    ¡°The first is impressive, but four or five is not so much. It doesn¡¯t even cover your squad.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean four or five full circuits. He can cover the entire squad with one,¡± he clarified.

    ¡°That¡­ is a different story altogether,¡± Frederick said, ¡°But I won¡¯t step out of my corps. That is for Albert to evaluate, not me.¡±

    Grabbing the empty mugs and pushing them back through his miniature Gate, the Unranked Officer stood and walked toward the door, ¡°Think about it. Ultimately, it is your decision, but I want you to consider the good it might accomplish. I have it on good authority that your company will be grounded for quite some time ¡­ but don¡¯t wait too long. If you go through with this, you will need to train with the new power.¡±

    Without waiting for a response, the head of the Aegis Corps walked out of the cabin door. As the cold steel door whispered closed, Dave found himself all alone with only his thoughts for company.

    ~~**~~

    This shite will be the end of me. Nessa thought, limping her way down the dimly lit hallway toward her cabin. It was embarrassing that a warrior of her stature couldn¡¯t stand on her own two feet, but here she was, carried like a sack of corn by Warren and Thea. They pity me. They know I¡¯ll never fight again. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Command gives me new orders to join the artillery tomorrow.

    ¡°Ness, you really need to learn your limit. This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve had to carry you back to your room when you got too dru¡ª¡±

    ¡°Piss off.¡± She interrupted. The man hadn¡¯t shut his hole since they¡¯d left the pub, somehow keeping an unbroken stream of dialog running without the response¡ªor interest¡ªof anyone else. The worst part was that he did it stone sober. Not a single drop of liquid fortitude in his body, yet he somehow had the confidence of a college student out on a Friday night. ¡°I know my limits. I¡¯m Irish and I-¡±

    ¡°Drink however much you damned well please. If I¡¯ve heard it once, I¡¯ve heard it a thousand times. Unfortunately for you, we¡¯ve been friends longer than we haven¡¯t. This is not your norm, no matter what you try to tell me.¡± He said, cutting her off just as abruptly as she did a second earlier.

    ¡°She needs to rest and maybe even talk about what happened,¡± Thea said, reminding the two bickering friends she was there.

    ¡°I can¡¯t be having you on my back too. Just get me to my cabin so you both can piss off and I can sleep. Hopefully, the med-bay will have my interface ready by morning.¡± Nessa said, venom dripping from her words.

    ¡°I know the leg is bothering her. Hell, we talked about it before we even went into the pub¡­ but apparently, she is letting it overwhelm her better judgment,¡± Warren replied to Thea as if the Breaker wasn¡¯t there.

    ¡°My fuckin¡¯ leg had scars,¡± Nessa spat. ¡°They were memories of what it cost to fail; marks from where that bastard beat me, gouges from my mistakes with a blade. Even the lingering pain from the time I tore a tendon a few years back is gone. I don¡¯t get those reminders anymore. The only place those lessons live on is my head, and we all know how fickle a thing like memory can be. Tell me, what kind of warrior has no scars?¡±

    Oblivious to Nessa¡¯s pain, the door to her cabin slipped open quietly and allowed the trio to stumble inside.

    This damned leg wouldn¡¯t listen to her. Logically, she knew it was because she lacked the implant, but in her heart, it was like her father was trying to screw her over from the grave. Losing her agility would have made him laugh in delight as he forced her to fight with the handicap. Would he go easy on her in this state? Never.

    Why the hell wasn¡¯t someone else cursed with the damned cybernetic limb? Were the rest of them forced to learn the sword from the day they could walk? Did they still train day in and day out, only taking breaks to sharpen the mind?

    Were they punished with pain when they made mistakes?

    No, but that was neither Warren nor Thea¡¯s fault.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, lowering herself onto the bed and turning her eyes away, ¡°You didn¡¯t deserve that¡­ I¡¯m in a really dark place and need to work through it.¡±

    ¡°We know,¡± Warren said, sitting down next to her and unbuttoning his sleeves, ¡°Which is why Thea and I will be staying with you tonight and not returning to our rooms. I didn¡¯t let you sleep alone when your father died, and I won¡¯t do it today. You can stay¡­ right Thea?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± she replied, drawn back into the conversation. ¡°I¡¯m the team healer, right? Mental health is just as¡ªif not more¡ªimportant than physical health. My job doesn¡¯t end when we step off the battlefield. Most of the time, that is when a Phantom¡¯s real work begins.¡±

    ¡°Thanks¡­ both of you,¡± Nessa said quietly. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders before letting it out, plastering a smile to her face. ¡°But neither of you better use this as a convenient excuse to see me in my skivvies.¡±

    ¡°Oh please. You don¡¯t have the parts to make my trouser snake dance, you can¡¯t even make him wiggle. Also¡­¡± He said, raising a finger while pulling off his boots, ¡°I call bed with Ness! Thea, you can have the extra mattress she keeps underneath.¡±

    ¡°On second thought¡­ You don¡¯t need to do this,¡± Nessa said, secretly hoping they would remain as stubborn as always. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine by myself.¡±

    ¡°What, so you can wallow in self-pity? Nope, that¡¯s not happening. We are going to get all cozy and talk about the things that make us happy. Not a word about your dad, your leg, or how you think you¡¯re not good enough for combat anymore. You don¡¯t get to be sad and mopy¡­ not tonight.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right you know,¡± Thea smiled, somehow making it feel like a high school sleepover, ¡°I want to hear about you; What you¡¯re reading, what you watch, how you relax, who you date¡­ or want to date. And if you¡¯re not getting lucky at least once a week, why the hell not?¡±

    ¡°Well, the last one is easy. I don¡¯t date. I mean¡­ we¡¯ve been kinda busy the last couple of years with all the soldiering we do.¡± Nessa said, trying to find an excuse.

    ¡°Not all the time. Jack and I manage to go out at least once a week. We aren¡¯t on missions day in and day out. We all know that for a fact. So, what is the issue?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got¡­ odd preferences,¡± Nessa dodged again while slipping out of her clothes and sliding under the blankets.

    ¡°Boys? Girls? Anatomically incorrect Steel Cast with strategically placed tentacles?¡± Thea asked, sliding the spare mattress out from under the bed.

    ¡°The idea of a relationship with someone has never really been at the top of my list. I just prefer to stay focused on my craft.¡±

    ¡°So relationships are not your thing. What do you like? What do you do when you¡¯re not working?¡± Thea asked, changing the direction of the conversation. ¡°Me, I like to draw. I must spend a quarter of my income on supplies and programs, and another quarter on whatever literature I¡¯m interested in that day.¡±

    ¡°Mostly she just looks at swords and stuff,¡± Warren answered, taking the wall side of Nessa¡¯s bunk. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how many times I¡¯ve caught her looking up historical weapons and how they were used.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s my secret,¡± Nessa joked, steeling herself for what she was about to say, ¡°Honestly Thea, the reason I never bother with a relationship is that I just am not comfortable in that kind of situation. I don¡¯t like people touching my skin¡­ well, most people. I know Warren wants nothing sexual from me, and he¡¯s been in my life for so long he¡¯s practically my brother. I¡¯ve occasionally had a random hookup, but after the uh¡­ pleasure portion ¡­ is over, I have no desire for anything else. I don¡¯t even take off all my clothes. That way, they can¡¯t touch my skin¡ªor my scars. If I meet someone, they need to be capable of sympathizing with my past. I need to understand how they pushed through the pain, but I hope I never meet someone like that.¡±

    Thea nodded her understanding and changed the subject again. She could tell these were very rough waters for the girl, and tonight wasn¡¯t about that. It was about relaxation and bonding. If Nessa opened up more in the future, that was on her.

    ¡°Well then, I think we need to talk about how we relax and not who we relax with. So, I¡¯m going to do what I like best and order a pizza. I would get wine, but honestly, I¡¯m all drinked out.¡±

    Nessa wanted to argue, she really did. She wasn¡¯t worth this much trouble from people that surely had other places to be. But if she listened to her heart¡ªand not the voice of her father that so often echoed through her mind¡ªshe knew this wasn¡¯t something she could just let pass her by.

    These people cared about her so much, they would put their own lives on hold just to spend time with her. Like it or not, these were her brothers and sisters in more than just arms. Even the ones that weren¡¯t here¡­ they still meant more than she could say.

    Her guard was down, and that never came easy. But they had dismantled her armor one piece at a time until there was nothing left but raw emotion. It was exhausting, but the laughter they drew out of her left her able to truly sleep for the first time in years.

    The next morning, she lay in her bunk and stared at the painted steel of her cabin ceiling. Normally, waking up after such a hard night of drinking would leave her with a pounding headache. This morning was no different, but it came with more self-reflection than the usually allowed herself.

    Her father hadn¡¯t been a good man. If the courts were to be believed, he wasn¡¯t even a sane one. The only reason she¡¯d met Warren in the first place was because his mother had been the maid for their estate. When they were young, they would play together on the strange jungle-gym her father had commissioned.

    It took until her tenth birthday to understand that it wasn¡¯t a playground at all, but an obstacle course meant to sharpen her physical capabilities.

    He¡¯d hired the best teachers money could buy, but it wasn¡¯t really about giving either child an excellent education as much as it was to keep law enforcement from asking too many questions. Schools asked uncomfortable questions if you showed up covered in cuts and bruises, questions her father didn¡¯t want to answer.

    She still remembered the bastard¡¯s funeral. It was funny; the man hadn¡¯t even died by the blade he so adored. As much as he deserved to die at the hand of the daughter he had broken so completely, he didn¡¯t have that much decency.

    No, the man died in the manner of old men across time. Quietly, peacefully, and in his sleep.

    In fact, she¡¯d only gone looking for him because he was late to morning drills.

    These people are not like your father.

    It wasn¡¯t their fault she couldn¡¯t open up like an actual human being. It was his.

    It wasn¡¯t their fault the only friend she¡¯d ever had before the military was the son of a servant. It was his.

    Most importantly, it wasn¡¯t their fault she was so terrified of losing a fight,  she¡¯d sacrificed her leg to speed up an already assured kill.

    It. Was. His.

 The Prisoners Throne - Journal Entry 1

    The chilly edge of the seat dug into Jean Lemoux¡¯s back as gravity took hold of the prisoner transport once more. Their descent from the orbital watchtower was short, but it was always the worst part of traveling to and from the planets that served as their prison after the attack. If the politicians of days-gone-by had taken the potential threat to Earth seriously, they could¡¯ve prepared. Instead, they were more concerned with gaining votes than gaining safety.

    But none of that mattered anymore. Those politicians were far away, and the humans taken from Earth on that fateful day only survived because of the supposed charity of their captors. Their leaders claimed benevolence and desire to free mankind of the Light that plagued the universe. Their actions said something completely different.

    A pocket of turbulence caused the shuttle to drop suddenly and resulted in mumbled curses from along either wall of the transport. Across the aisle, Jean watched in amused disinterest while illness violently overcame another prisoner. There was no way to help the man¡ªshackles on his hands and feet prevented nearly all movement¡ªbut even if he could, he wouldn¡¯t risk being seen as weak by his fellow inmates.

    At least the poor bastard could move his hands and cover his own mouth with the sick tube. The guards didn¡¯t trust Jean nearly enough to allow him to scratch his own nose. They¡¯d made that mistake once during the initial quarantine in the Stygiboran system, and paid for it with the lives of two guards before being able to restrain him. But that¡¯s what happens when you take Sensation away from an addict, confine him to a containment unit swarming with alien overseers, and inform him he would pay for the crime of being born to the Light.

    Whatever that meant.

    The Scaladorian courts had decided his fate and had sent him into the mines. They pretended like his actions on Earth were the cause of his imprisonment, but why would an invading army care about crimes committed under the old government? Jean Lemoux was certainly guilty of eco-terrorism, but considering what the enemy army did to the planet, it was a moot point.

    Jean tried to drum his fingers against the inside of the specially designed restraints encasing his hands and chuckled to himself as he remembered how thoroughly they¡¯d bound his hands.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny, 87?¡± the Scaladorian guard demanded, stomping down the aisle to stand directly in front of Jean.

    The guard¡ªlike all the handlers the captured humans dealt with¡ªwas a black-shelled insect-like creature that reminded Jean of a beetle. His face was stiff, unable to show emotion because of the interlocking plates that covered his body.

    ¡°Smoke and mirrors¡­ smoke and mirrors,¡± Jean smirked, leaning his head back against his collar.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± his fingers tightened on the handle of the electric baton on his belt.

    ¡°Your entire society is based on a lie. You don¡¯t think the people of Earth understand that we are nothing but cattle to your Stygibora masters? I will be truly surprised if your government ever plans to treat the people of Earth fairly. You want us for cheap labor, yet openly despise our very existence.¡± He emphasized his rebuke by spitting on the guard''s feet. It wasn¡¯t much, but considering the state of his extremities, it was the most he could do.

    In a flash of movement, the baton was out and falling toward Jean¡¯s shoulder at full force. The twisted rage in the guard''s eyes confirmed Jean¡¯s understanding of the social sentiment toward humans. They saw humanity as weak and impetuous and refused to see Earth¡¯s apex predator as anything but cheap slaves.

    While there was nothing he could do to prevent the attack, the knowledge that he¡¯d gotten under the guard¡¯s shell with nothing but perceived truth gave him the strength to hold his glare while enduring the beating.

    As if he¡¯d planned it, the shuttle hit another pocket of turbulence that knocked the guard off his feet and induced a round of laughter from every prisoner on the aisle. Embarrassed but unwilling to risk another fall, the Scaladorian guard clambered to his feet and returned to the cockpit.

    Jean¡¯s shoulder throbbed with pain, but if he showed weakness in front of the other criminals, there was a high likelihood of waking up in his bunk, covered in blood, and waiting for his heart to give its last beat. To survive in this den of thieves, madmen and the unlucky, he would need to be sure they saw his strength for what it was.

    A distraction.

    The shuttle shook harder as they broke into the low atmosphere. Beside him, Jean¡¯s partner glared at the other prisoner as the sounds of his illness echoed through the cabin. Her hands were also bound, but not encased in the same metallic restraints. Monique met his eyes and scratched her nose in a blatant attempt to mock him.

    Jean closed his eyes and smirked. He¡¯d worked with Monique for a very long time and appreciated her barb for what it was. It wouldn¡¯t be long now. The shuttle would stop shaking and the guards would lead them to their new home. At least here they weren¡¯t lying about what the humans were; they were free labor that didn¡¯t require being paid. Even if the greater United Human Republic found them, the chances of being rescued were slim. In the grand scheme of things, the humans brought here were comparatively few.

    Why risk an army for a few civilians that were already dead?

    Eventually, the shuttle stopped rattling and the familiar sensation of being taxied to the gate told the prisoners they were finally back on solid ground. For the less observant, they found this out when a guard stomped his way down the aisle, unlocking their bonds one at a time.

    Finally, having enough freedom of movement to do more than glance around. Jean looked out of the window at the dusky landscape. According to the orbital station, it was just after noon on a perfectly cloudless day. Instead, he found a world trapped in near constant darkness, the only light provided by thermal reactions of the gas giant in the near distance.

    ¡°Welcome home,¡± the guard who struck Jean said. ¡°You¡¯ll never leave this place, despite what you think. Nobody escapes the jaws of Narax. Even if you had the right tools, you¡¯ll never bribe one of the Black Guard to ignore their post.¡±

 The Prisoners Throne - Journal Entry 2

    ¡°Inmates, toe to heel. If you have even one inch of space between you and the person in front of you, it¡¯s too much. You are a number here. Numbers do not deserve personal space.¡±

    The guard''s voice grated on Jean¡¯s ears and filled him with an icy rage that demanded retribution for their treatment. Back on Earth, the staff of a prison would at least lie to the inmates. They would claim the prison existed to rehabilitate criminals rather than punish them. It rarely worked, but at least the lie gave them hope to cling to. Here, they were told escape from hell only came in one flavor: Death.

    Jean was in a unique situation among prisoners. His status as highly dangerous meant it was impossible for the Scaladorian guards to just shove him in line with the others. But he was of a lesser species, and that meant he had to go through a certain level of medical examination before they would release him into the mines.

    Sadly, it also meant he would be the first human to run the gauntlet of ¡®In Processing.¡¯ When the humans were first taken by the Stygiboran Empire, the alien kidnappers ran experiments on them until they mastered human anatomy. Now, they were little more than cattle.

    Jean found he no longer cared what they did to him. If they decided he wasn¡¯t worth the nutrition they used to keep his body in working condition, he would end up face down in a shallow grave. If his fellow inmates were lucky, they would get an hour or three away from work. But it was more likely the Stygibora would just drop his body in a field and pretend they never saw it.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Prisoners of the Narax Complex, listen up because I¡¯m only going to say this once. You are in prison. The amenities you¡¯ve become used to on Earth do not exist here. There is no entertainment to melt your brain. No drink to addle your thoughts. And no books to transport you to another world.¡± The guard explained, slapping his cudgel against his chitinous palm. ¡°You will wake when we tell you, and you will mine the material we desire. At the end of every successful day, you will return to your cell to eat and sleep.¡±

    ¡°And what happens if we do not acquire this material?¡± Monique asked, head bowed low and masking her French accent so the guard couldn¡¯t tell where the voice came from. ¡°Will you starve us, or will you treat us like war criminals?¡±

    ¡°Starvation is a wonderful way to ensure you meet quotas, don¡¯t you think? If we¡¯re lucky, you might just run out of strength and never return. That would be just as acceptable to us.¡±

    ¡°Does our government know what you plan to do?¡± her voice echoed from across the room. Monique had mastered the ancient art of ventriloquism years ago. With wireless speakers so easily accessible, it was a skill many had forgotten.

    ¡°When I blow this whistle, you will strip off your clothing and walk through the decontamination chamber. It will sting like hell, but that¡¯s ok because your comfort doesn¡¯t matter to us.¡± The guard said in a predatory tone. ¡°Then you will enter the warehouse and grab enough clothes for three days. We will replace them as time goes by, but we do not allow our prisoners any individuality.¡±

    Jean glanced at his old friend, knowing she would itch to rip the cudgel from the guard¡¯s hand and beat him into submission. He met her gaze and gave a small shake of the head. It wasn¡¯t time to spring their trap, there was still entirely too much to do.

 The Prisoners Throne - Journal Entry 3

    Jean stepped into the decontamination area without a stitch of clothing as instructed by the guards. Beneath his feet, the floor of the shower radiated cold and caused a wave of discomfort to crawl up his spine. When the door sealed, he noticed dark recesses along the walls that would soon ensure he brought no sickness into the prison. He wanted to react; he wanted to hammer at the door with all his strength until they either let him out or let him die.

    It would be perfectly ironic. These creatures had taken humans across the untold vastness of space so they could become slaves. If they killed him, the inconceivable amount of money and resources they¡¯d spent to get him here would be wasted. They would have nothing to show for the investment, and he would be free of whatever hell they would soon put him through.

    Jean¡¯s hand tightened into a fist and the metallic fingers of his right hand dug into the flesh of his palm. The guards tried to take the prosthetic, but one look at the looming figure told them it would be in their best interest to forget the digits were artificial.

    He¡¯d lost the fingers years ago after being thrown in prison for an act of eco-terrorism. It was justified, but the judge had ruled that he wasn¡¯t allowed to take the law into his own hands. Jean¡¯s lawyer tried to make the case that since local law enforcement was turning a blind eye to illegal dumping activity by several chemical companies, it was not surprising that a concerned citizen chose to stand up for his home.

    Jean destroyed four factories with a string of bombs, putting a stop to the dumping. His fingers paid for the act, but sometimes sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good.

    Liquid splashed against his face and dripped down his body in rivulets, washing away the taint of the outside world. It wasn¡¯t hot, but the slightly acidic fluid didn¡¯t need heat to wash away any contaminants. It ripped off the top layer of his skin and washed it down the drain.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    But he knew he couldn¡¯t show pain. The other prisoners could see him through the glass partition, and showing any form of weakness in this place would have dire consequences. Instead of reacting, he stoically took the beating until the acidic solution stopped and water took its place.

    A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower and into the warehouse beyond. Inside, he located a bin with clothing his size and donned his new uniform. If they insisted on humans wearing white to signify how weak they were, he would embrace it and allow them to hold that misconception.

    ¡°Merde.¡± Picking up the shoes they provided, he spat in frustration. They¡¯d provided him with extremely thin-soled shoes that were more like slippers than anything else. He was certain he wouldn''t last more than a month in the mines without a major injury while wearing them.

    ¡°Keep it moving, 87,¡± an armored Scaladorian guard spat, pointing his baton at the prisoner. ¡°More of you miserable bastards will be here soon, and you need to be headed to your cell by then.¡±

    ¡°We need better shoes. These are hardly more than paper and will fall apart after a few days at best. This is unacceptable, even for people you see as expendable.¡±

    ¡°Move along.¡± The guard stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder, shoving him toward the door. ¡°Follow the signs and report to your cell. If you want better shoes, you¡¯ll need to earn them.¡±

    Jean gritted his teeth and walked toward the door. Before leaving the room, he glanced back and saw Monique also undergoing the decontamination process he had just been through. If they made her take off the processors for the implanted devices that granted her hearing, she wouldn¡¯t be able to hear the threats or warnings cast her way.

    Without the devices, she lived in a world of silence.

    The guards only spared his fingers because they were surgically attached to his hand. Monique''s hearing aids were easily removable. Jean couldn¡¯t tell if she had their protective case, but without it, life would be even harder in this place.

    These guards, these Scaladorians, were going to abuse every ounce of power they had. Someone would need to step up and put them in their place. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, but if Jean could unify the prisoners into the beginnings of a crew, he stood a chance of taking over and providing a better life for all humans trapped in this miserable system.

 Tempered by Pain - Chapter 90 (Interlude)

    ¡°We pretend we are powerful, and the public believes us. We pretend humanity is running the show, but that¡¯s only because we haven¡¯t crossed into the wrong territory. We pretend to be the most advance species, and yet so many humans do not know we were created and engineered by a senior species that is long extinct.¡± ¨C From the diary of Sarath Wells, June 3265.

    ¡°Any luck?¡± Tobias asked, stepping onto the bridge of the Shaka, ¡°I feel like we¡¯ve been at this for weeks.¡±

    ¡°We have. Unfortunately, it is like searching for a needle in a haystack the size of a galaxy,¡± Albert replied, dropping thousands of Light threads and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

    The pair had led the search for this nebulous enemy, and so far they¡¯d come up empty. The one and only time they¡¯d found an enemy garrison had been one hundred percent unbridled chance. And they only found it¡ªa human asteroid mine near the far edge of their territory¡ªbecause the entire facility had gone dark and attempts to make contact went unanswered.

    Among the Unranked Officers, it was common knowledge that the enemy despised any form of light and would take any opportunity to block it out or destroy it entirely. Sadly, that meant they probably turned the mine pitch black and were using the human workers as food.

    Clearing the mine had been relatively easy. Between Albert¡¯s ability to force their bodies to accept Light and Tobias¡¯s ability to control more drones than any reasonable ship carried, they made quick work of the invaders.

    ¡°What about searching for blind spots? I thought that gave them away.¡±

    ¡°It does, but there is a not-insignificant fact that you¡¯re ignoring,¡± Albert said, rising from his chair and selecting a destination from the navigation panel.

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°How far we¡¯ve spread ourselves across this universe. Frankly, humanity was stupid in claiming so many worlds so far apart. Why the senate refused to just stick to the Milky Way, I¡¯ll never understand.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s mostly because humans think they need to be as widespread as possible. It costs more to ship something to Phoenix in transportation, protection, and supplies than it does just learning to build the product right there.¡±

    Tobias walked to the command console and called up an information panel. In a ring around him, holographic projections signified his total control of all ship functions.

    ¡°Why do you have that set as our destination?¡± he asked, dismissing the ship-level view and pulling up a star map.

    ¡°Because The Reservoir hasn¡¯t sent a return beacon in five months, and I can¡¯t find any signs of life.¡±

    ¡°That place is massive. How do you propose finding one encampment on a floating ball of ice 140 trillion times the size of Earth?¡±

    ¡°I will worry about how we find the facility. You worry about getting us there,¡± Albert replied with his characteristic nonchalance.

    Just looking at him, Albert didn¡¯t appear to be anything special. The pressed uniform and sidearm screamed figurehead more than it did soldier. However, like all of them, Albert Mayer was an unstoppable force when he joined a battle. That he did it unarmored with only a pistol for a weapon, made him terrifying.

    ¡°Alright then, but I get the next one,¡± Tobias said, activating the Shaka¡¯s Gate and pushing them through space with a thought.

    ¡°My brother, you only wish you had my level of efficiency. Though I find myself envious of those drones you so freely use.¡± Albert replied, checking the pistol one last time after they reformed.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only thing I have on you,¡± Tobias laughed. The age-old points were the same as they were decades ago.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. You and the others are much more combat effective than I will ever be, but you lack the vision, the insight that I have.¡±

    Walking toward the Gate projector on the wall of the bridge, he picked up the quantum beacon he¡¯d made for this purpose.

    ¡°I will update the map as I go. Open the Gates when you see the ping, please.¡±

    ¡°I always do.¡±

    Securing the beacon to his wrist, Albert Mayer once again lamented his inability to match Benjamin¡¯s raw Light output. But there were worse ways to get around than having a friend lock on to your beacon and open a Gate.

    Nodding, he stepped through the Gate and shattered into motes of Light.

    ¡°Can we really afford to have someone of your caliber on prison detail?¡± Benjamin asked upon seeing Theresa Kos sitting in a comfortable chair with a blanket over her legs and the ever-present book in her hands.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Can we really afford for one of us not to take watch?¡± She countered.

    ¡°You know what I mean.¡±

    Approaching the window, he stared at the pitiful creature they¡¯d held for close to a year. The inky black of its body had grayed drastically under the prolonged exposure to the intense Light of its prison, but Hargrave barely cared.

    Ben had starved, beaten, cut apart, and even burned the creature, but he had nothing to show for it. He even tried going the other direction as well. Feeding it every day, soothing its wounds, even occasionally reducing the Light intensity. Nothing had broken the creature, but Hargrave knew it must be near the end of its rope.

    ¡°You know I haven¡¯t slept in centuries. The same things that haunt your waking life haunt my dreams. Fortunately, I can heal the exhaustion and refresh myself without those memories ever invading my thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Really? Centuries? Theresa, you can¡¯t keep going like this,¡± Benjamin replied, refusing to take his eyes off the prisoner.

    ¡°Says the living weapon?¡±

    ¡°And what are you reading today?¡± he deflected, knowing this argument had no end.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little number I picked up from the archives. A story about superheroes from the time when we lived on Earth. It¡¯s about a kid who¡¯s never had control of his powers, but with a little help he becomes one of the world¡¯s strongest saviors,¡± she smiled, patting the tome in her lap.

    That had always been the quickest way to distract her; ask about a book, and all remnants of the previous conversation were gone. She was nearly the opposite of Albert in that regard. That man would remember what you were talking about long after you¡¯d forgotten why you were there.

    They both saw through the deflection. The difference was that Theresa recognized when you didn¡¯t want to talk and would allow the distraction.

    ¡°It must truly be fantastic, then. I¡¯m not sure there is such a thing as a hero anymore,¡± Benjamin said, glancing into the cell. ¡°I can say for a fact that I¡¯m not his hero.¡±

    ¡°But you are the hero to so many others. Ben, you save lives that don¡¯t even know they need to be saved. You protect people by making the hard call, even when that call is painful.¡±

    ¡°You make me sound like a tyrant,¡± he replied, walking to the first door and beginning the entrance process.

    ¡°You were. You could be again, but you choose to be the hero instead of the villain.¡±

    ¡°Heroes don¡¯t do what I do,¡± he said, ending the conversation and entering the cell.

    Approaching the table, he formed a small dagger and released two of the creature¡¯s restraints.

    ¡°Sacrament, how are you doing today?¡±

    ¡°We¡­ hurt. But you know that, don¡¯t you, Benjamin,¡± a raspy voice replied.

    The fact that it knew which personality was in control unnerved him, but he was used to it by now and had learned to roll with the punches.

    ¡°Would you like to stop hurting, my friend?¡±

    ¡°We are not friends!¡± Sacrament screeched, shaping one of its limbs into a blade and attacking the Unranked Officer.

    In a flash, Hargrave had taken over and reshaped the knife into a set of claws. Dodging the weak strike, he cut a long furrow down the length of Sacrament¡¯s arm. Before it could pull back, he grabbed the limb and shoved a Light battery deep into the wound.

    Screaming in pain, it tore at its skin. If anyone else had prepared the battery, Sacrament could¡¯ve ignored it. Sadly, someone almost as powerful as a Starborn had charged it.

    ¡°Please! Stop!¡± the creature screamed.

    Reforming the weapon, Hargrave cut off the injured limb.

    ¡°I only stop the pain for my friends,¡± Hargrave said, the unnerving smile wide on his face.

    ¡°We want to talk to Benjamin,¡± they pleaded.

    This was new.

    It had never requested the weaker inhabitant of this body. Did they really believe that crap about being friends? Did Benjamin?

    ¡°I¡¯m here, Sacrament. What do you want to talk about?¡± The Officer asked, his expression shifting as Benjamin regained control.

    Part of their mass undulated as a new arm pushed its way out of the vaguely humanoid lump of tentacles.

    ¡°You know our mission is to bring Blessed Darkness. But you don¡¯t know about our enemies, the Starborn. They are the ones whose power you wield so freely.¡±

    ¡°Is that why your people are here? To find and fight these beings?¡± he asked, walking around the table so Sacrament could clearly see him.

    The creature let loose a short, gravelly laugh. ¡°We cannot kill one of the Starborn with the force we have. We are but a scouting mission in search of the vile creatures.¡±

    ¡°When and why did this war begin?¡±

    ¡°The when is easy, nearly thirteen billion of your years ago. We were cave dwellers and still worshipping the Starborn as gods,¡± they explained.

    ¡°This feud is nearly as old as the universe itself?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What caused it? Why did it start?¡± he asked, releasing a third limb to prove his intentions.

    ¡°We cannot say.¡±

    Benjamin paused; the knife still held in his hand. A battle was taking place inside him. Hargrave wanted to punish the insolent being for its defiance, but Benjamin wanted answers.

    ¡°Not because we don¡¯t want to, but because the collective purged it from our consciousness billions of years ago.¡± Sacrament panicked, trying to shy away but still pinned by several restraints.

    ¡°Are there other races that might know the complete story?¡± Benjamin said, controlling himself and his inner demon.

    ¡°Yes, several, but most have already fallen to The People.¡±

    ¡°You know Sacrament, we¡¯ve been friends for so long yet I still do not know what your people are called,¡± Benjamin said, putting away his weapon and offering a hand to the creature, ¡°But I think we¡¯ve finally come to an understanding.¡±

    ¡°Why did you hurt us?¡±

    ¡°Because your people have taken two-thirds of Earth¡¯s population and overthrown several of our planets in the name of your jihad. Compared to what the collective did to our people, they should be happy you¡¯re still alive.¡±

    ¡°So far from home, we needed food,¡± they tried to explain.

    ¡°So you take sentients?¡± Benjamin roared, barely maintaining control, ¡°How could a people so old, so numerous, be so evil?¡±

    "We hope you know, Benjamin Hargrave, those slaves will feed our people for generations," they said, changing their voice and posture abruptly, as if a switch had been thrown. ¡°We will use the women as breeding stock, and milk the men for their seed. Those that are too old, or refuse to provide children for the herd, will serve our people as slaves. If they refuse yet again, they will become food for our young. We will wipe out your worlds one by one until all is Sacred Darkness. You will fall, but first, you will despair! The People¡ªThe Stygibora¡ªhave come, and there is nothing and no one that can stop us!¡±

    Falling silent, Sacrament seized as the color drained even further from its body. Liquid poured from its many wounds as it deflated like a waterskin. When it was done and all motion had stopped, Benjamin was left staring at a dead, eyeless face cut through with a wide, toothy grin.

    Mankind¡ªit seemed¡ªwas in much more danger than expected.

 The Prisoners Throne - Journal Entry 4

    Pain reverberated up 0087¡¯s arms as the tip of his pickaxe struck a hard vein of stone. He dropped to his knees and pulled at the loose rocks with cracked and dirty fingers. Desperately hoping it was a piece of Gravitrum ore, he wrapped his fingers around the hard stone and pulled it free.

    In less than six months, he¡¯d lost the bearing of an ecological warrior willing to sacrifice everything to save a piece of what mattered. Instead, he was just prisoner 0087. His skin was covered in rashes from lack of nutrition and cuts that wouldn¡¯t heal. The mechanical digits on his right hand no longer fit properly and a gap was forming between the prosthetics and the stumps of his fingers.

    The guards hadn¡¯t lied about replacing the uniforms. Any time the white material was too stained or ripped by the rigors of the mines, a new one would appear on his bunk the next day. They cared about maintaining an appearance of caring for their prisoners, but that was all it was.

    Appearance.

    Prisoner 0087 stared at the lump of stone in his hands as if he could see through the grime to the deep violet stone beneath. Carefully, he scratched at the dirty surface, hoping to see the telltale glow that would buy him food for the first time in days.

    He no longer cared about maintaining a threatening aura. In hell, a sense of superiority did nothing but lead a prisoner into an early grave. Even pulling himself out of bed to relive his day of purgatory took everything he could muster.

    A soft violet light fell across his thumbnail, proving it was one of the stones that would mean food. His mouth salivated at the thought of finally eating a meal, but a voice in the back of his mind reminded him he wasn¡¯t the only one starving down here. He shoved it into his pocket, glancing around to see if anyone noticed the movement.

    Luckily, he¡¯d chosen a dark tunnel that few prisoners ever dared to venture down. The passage was not well lit, and many of the fixtures that once held precious light were now dark from decades of neglect. There were divots in the stone floor that were easily navigated in the light but were invisible in the patches of shadow.

    Prisoner 0087 found this hallway weeks ago and decided it would be a nice place to die when his body no longer possessed the strength to return to the surface. Most days he only brought his pick down here as a token effort, but rarely used it. It was far easier to just sit and wait for death.

    He was so disconnected from reality that he didn¡¯t even notice when the light beside him flickered and plunged him into darkness. Although, he did notice when a faint glow across the hallway filtered through small cracks in the stone, sparking hope for the first time in weeks. The pick felt heavy as he climbed to his feet and stumbled to the opposite wall. With trembling hands, he brought the instrument down on the stone, expecting nothing.

    Now the key to his survival weighed heavily in his pocket, pressing against his emaciated leg and digging into what little muscle remained. The stones around him glowed, proving that his was not the only one in this corridor. Prisoner 0087 needed to remember where he was, and how to get back to this place without being watched.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    It would be suspicious if he returned with large chunks of ore too often. To preserve his secret and extend his life, he would need to break it into smaller pieces and nurse himself back to health. Perhaps he might even give a shard of the stone to Prisoner 0088. She needed food just as much as he did. If the tunnel held even a fraction of the gravitrum he thought it did¡­

    Prisoner 0087 stumbled down the hall, back toward light and the other densely populated area. The pitted stone around him threatened to steal his footing several times, but within an hour, he found 0088 and convinced her to follow.

    ¡°88,¡± he cracked, the words unfamiliar on his lips after such a long time. ¡°88, I have some of the ore. You shared with me, it''s only right that I repay you in kind.¡±

    They sat in a dimly lit cell. 0087 remembered claiming this room for himself in the past, but there was nothing special about it. The small room was nothing more than four walls, and slabs of cold metal bolted into the wall to serve as bunks. At the foot of each bed, a single folded white blanket waited for its owner to return from the mine.

    ¡°No need, Jean.¡± she said, turning away and producing a small shard of stone the length of a fingernail. ¡°I found some and was going to search you out. When was the last time you¡¯ve eaten?¡±

    Jean? The name sounded familiar to Prisoner 0087, but it did not belong to him. Why would this woman assume his name was anything other than 0087?

    ¡°Days. I gave my last piece to that child they brought in. I couldn¡¯t let a child starve in the depths of hell.¡± He hadn¡¯t used his voice this much in a long time. For the past several weeks, he¡¯d communicated through little more than grunts and nods.

    ¡°Do you have something to break it?¡±

    In response, Prisoner 0087 wrapped the stone in a piece of cloth and slammed it into the ground repeatedly. With each hit, he felt a shard break away under the cloth. If he turned in the entire stone, he would only eat for a day. The prisoners learned that lesson early on; the guards did not care how large the piece of gravitrum was, each piece only bought enough food for a single day.

    It was clear how the Scaladorians saw the human population in their care, and it was not favorably. They were second-class citizens capable of nothing more than menial labor. These mines were a perfect example of that feeling, and their refusal to feed the unproductive doubly so.

    ¡°How big does it have to be?¡± Prisoner 0087 mumbled while crushing the stone again. Overpaying for a meal was bad, but underpaying was worse. If he didn¡¯t meet the bare minimum payment, he would lose the ore and food.

    Carefully unwrapping the stone, he removed a small shard less than the length of his smallest fingernail. It was thin, almost like chipped obsidian. Unlike the volcanic stone from Earth, this one did not drink in the light of its surroundings. Instead, the strange ore seemed to bend the light as if natural light was afraid to touch it.

    Prisoner 0087 slipped the small stone into his pocket and handed the bundle of cloth to Prisoner 0088. It was hard to think through the fog of hunger, but he knew it was important that he did not know the location of the entire stone. Even interrogation would be useless. If he didn''t know the stone''s hiding place, he couldn''t expose its existence.

    ¡°Give a shard to anyone near death. They need to eat just as much as you and I.¡±

    ¡°Jean, you¡¯re being unreasonable. You can¡¯t give away your ticket to survival. You are too weak as it is.¡±

    ¡°No. I will not become the animal they wish me to. They want us to fight and kill over this stone, but I say no. We won¡¯t become like them. We won''t become the monsters of the stars.¡±

    The discovery of a simple stone had renewed the hope he thought he¡¯d lost.

    Prisoner 0087¡­ No, that wasn¡¯t right. Finding the man he¡¯d been so long ago, even if only for a moment, brought back a level of lucidity he hadn¡¯t felt in a very long time. He wasn¡¯t Prisoner 0087; he was Jean Lemoux. A man branded a criminal by a justice system that knew no justice, and sentenced to slavery by a people that didn¡¯t care about his life.

    If it took until his dying breath, he would know true justice. Even if he had to create it himself.