Faria Prime

  9,023 meters above Sklanak District

  1,338 likals from the capital

  32 minutes after arrival of Republic Fleet

  “Oh shit!”

  Seeing the Farian anti-air flak munition being tracked on the HUD that looked like it was heading directly for him, Lance Corporal Anson Balkus flicked his right hand, activating the thrusters of his combat suit and veering sharply to the right.

  Shifting his left hand downwards, he felt himself dropping sharply as he continued to watch the path of the Farian munition being highlighted on the HUD. The blinking red circle around it finally turned yellow, and he exhaled slowly, his body trembling from a combination of fear and sheer relief as the Farian munition passed by him over a hundred meters away.

  A strident alarm began to buzz in his helmet, and the HUD switched to the rear camera view as his suit AI categorized the new threat. His stomach clenched in fear as he saw a small object rapidly closing in behind him, and he whispered frantically to the AI.

  “Alix, deploy countermeasures!”

  Alix beeped in acknowledgement, and he felt the suit shuddering slightly as the rear chaff was deployed before Alix veered the suit sharply to the left and then the right, trying to break the target lock of the small missile still coming to kill them.

  The suit shuddered again, and Anton tried his hardest not to throw up as Alix put the suit into a roll before veering sharply to the left again. The insistent beeping increased in tempo, indicating the missile was still locked on and getting closer, and he felt his fear threatening to overwhelm him as he saw the missile pass the two-hundred-meter mark on the HUD.

  “Alix, do something!” He gasped out as the missile passed a hundred and fifty meters. Alix beeped again, and he felt himself being thrown forward with tremendous force as the spare battery pack on his back was violently ejected by the explosive bolt system.

  ~ Prepare for im- ~

  Alix never finished its warning as Anson felt himself bucking wildly before a bright light and then pain overwhelmed his senses.

  Sklanak District

  1,359 likals from the capital

  412 meters from Farian military outpost

  “Mushy! Get your fucking head out of your ass and reload me!”

  Alixa heard Ayoub screaming at him, but he couldn’t move as he continued to stare at the PIP screen in the corner of his HUD that had been tracking his best friend’s passage through the atmosphere. He saw the missile icon closing in on Anson, and now his beacon was no longer transmitting as his limp body tumbled wildly towards the ground.

  A blinding flash of light erupted in his head, followed by pain. He felt himself being knocked off his feet, Ayoub’s rage-filled roar filling his ears as he fell heavily to the ground and alerts appeared on the HUD highlighting the damaged areas of his helmet. None of it mattered to him as he felt an unbearable grief gripping his chest, and Anson’s name escaped from his lips in a whimper. Anson...no, please. Ayoub’s voice, filled with cold fury, filled his helmet again as he felt himself curling up into a ball.

  “Get the fuck up, Specialist Alixa! Get the fuck up right now and do your goddamn job!”

  The order pierced through his grief, anchoring him to the moment as he felt Alixa the warrior come back to the forefront and push aside his crippling sorrow. Do your job. The mission comes first. You are a drop trooper. You are part of a team. You are the tip of the spear. The brutal training he had endured, the warrior ethos that had been hammered into him by his instructors—all of it came rushing back in and took over.

  Without thinking about it, he was back on his feet, and his hands were shoving a missile magazine into the empty port on Ayoub’s back three seconds later. Of its own volition, his left hand tapped on the massive sensor dome, signaling to his battle buddy that she was loaded. Alixa the warrior was in charge now, and he turned into a killing machine, no longer filled with grief and sorrow, but hate and fury. He was now death itself, and every mortar, every missile, every heavy cannon sliver he loaded was personal.

  Twice, the Farians charged at their position, and twice, he had to be pulled back by Ayoub as he forgot how to be an Eleani. He forgot what it meant to be a Republic drop trooper who fought with honor and followed the laws of war. He turned into a beast, a brutal and merciless bringer of death to those who took Anson from him.

  Soon, his sleek, black combat suit was covered in violet blood, and the HUD displayed multiple damaged sections of the suit, but he cared not; all he wanted was more blood. He wanted to keep seeing the fear in their eyes as he ripped limbs off and punched his gauntleted hand into chests to crush hearts into a pulp.

  The sound of flesh tearing and vertebrae cracking as he ripped Farian heads off their necks did not satiate his vengeance, nor did the fearful begging of the enemy as they pleaded for mercy still his murderous hands as he took their lives from them.

  After repelling the second charge, no more Farians came, and now he was standing behind Ayoub, his whole body trembling as he struggled to breathe. At some point, the sounds of battle died out around them, and he had a vague memory of Ayoub ordering him to cease fire. All around their fighting position were the bodies of over almost two hundred Farians, some of them brutally dismembered by him.

  After the Farian outpost issued a surrender and they were ordered to stand down and hold their positions by Major Franklin, the BioSynth turned around to face him and pivoted slightly at the waist joint as she activated the private channel, Ayoub’s shocked voice filling his helmet. “Alixa, what the fuck is going on? What has happened to you?!”

  He didn’t answer the question right away; he was too ashamed to acknowledge what he had done as the full import of his unlawful conduct began to penetrate his mind. He was a murderer, and he had dishonored the regiment. Ayoub waited for him to answer for a few moments before she spoke again, this time in her command voice.

  “You will answer the question, Specialist Alixa. I saw you murdering Farians after they threw their weapons down, and you better tell me now why you did that.”

  Now looking down at the ground, Alixa felt his throat becoming a painful lump as he remembered the sight of Anson’s body falling through the sky. “I... I saw my best friend get hit by a missile and his body falling. He was my best friend since boot camp...” Alixa’s words became unintelligible as a choking sob erupted out of his throat.

  Ayoub did not move or respond for a few moments before gently placing one of her massive hands on his shoulder as she spoke again, quietly this time. “I see. I am sorry you saw that, Alixa, and I am sorry for your friend dying. Where is he?”

  Alixa pointed to the right of their position before he answered. “He is in the 101st, Staff Sergeant. He was dropping with the second wave in sector 4 to support our assault on the Farian outpost and the anti-air batteries. I was so happy to hear from him; I didn’t even know he was with the fleet until I received a comm request from the El Alamein while we were coming here. We haven’t seen each other in almost a year, and he bet me a hundred credits he’d get to the outpost before...”

  Alixa couldn’t finish the sentence, and Ayoub lightly tapped his right shoulder joint to let him before replying. “Alixa, I understand, and I really am sorry; I know what you are going through. Is his beacon still active?”

  Alixa shook his head in the negative like the humans did, and she took her hand off his shoulder as she activated a holo screen between them. “What is his name, rank, and unit?” She asked as she inputted her codes to access the command-and-control network.

  “Lance Corporal Anson Balkus, 1st Battalion, 327th Infantry Regiment. The Bulldogs.”

  After a few moments, a topographical map appeared, and she traced a large finger from their current position to where the spy drones in the area had calculated Anson’s body would have impacted based on his speed and trajectory.

  Alixa couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small, blinking red dot that was estimated to be where Anson’s body impacted, and he barely registered Ayoub contacting their superiors and asking for permission to join in search and rescue.

  Only when she gently shook him did he return to reality, and he climbed onto her back in a daze-like state, holding on tightly while she began to lope in the strange galloping stride of the ATS suits as they went to retrieve Anson’s body 6.3 kilometers away.

  He craned his head up to look at the squadron of starfighters currently flying over them as they headed towards the outpost behind them, and he found himself hoping for the Farians to violate the cease-fire so the starfighters would wipe them from the surface of the planet. He wanted them dead; they were the ones who targeted and killed Anson.

  They were both silent until halfway to their destination when Ayoub activated the private channel between them again and spoke again, her voice filled with both understanding and disappointment.

  “Alixa, I am only going to say this once. If you ever dishonor yourself and the drop troopers like that again, you are done. I will bring you up on charges before the war crimes tribunal, and you will be dishonorably discharged before spending a long time on a lunar penal colony. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir. I am sorry, Staff Sergeant, I...don’t know what—”

  Ayoub cut him off. “You said all I needed you to say, mushy. I understand, and I will make sure the video evidence is corrupted so it doesn't get seen by command. Just don’t do it again, Alixa. What you did will be with you for the rest of your life, and that is punishment enough.”

  Alixa didn’t reply, realizing that she was right about him having to live with himself and what he had done, and the way she said it seemed as if she personally knew what it felt like. They crested the small hill, and he felt his heart jumping up into his throat as he saw multiple gray suits with red circles around the arms and crosses on the shoulder joints in the distance.

  They were search and rescue medics, and he almost lost his grip and fell off Ayoub’s back as he saw multiple body bags on hovering grav sleds scattered around. Ayoub reduced her speed as she muttered curses, and Alixa forced himself to keep hanging on, though he wanted nothing more than to jump off and run away.

  Farian military outpost

  Force leader Jarlit stared down at the gagged and struggling Fourth Prime being held down by six soldiers as he listened intently to the First Prime’s voice coming over the comm unit.

  “Do you understand my command, Force Leader Jarlit?”

  “Yes, First Prime, I will obey. What do you want me to tell the humans? They are demanding access to the outpost and the anti-air batteries to disable them. We are concerned that they will seek revenge and kill us for shooting them down even though we have declared our submission to them.”

  “You will allow them access, Force Leader. If they wanted you all dead, you would not be speaking with me right now. You will comply with all directives given to you by the humans, and you will make it clear to your soldiers that any who break the cease-fire will be personally flayed by me. Let them watch what you do to the Fourth Prime to remind them of the consequences of disobedience.”

  “We will obey, First Prime.”

  “You are now responsible for their lives, Force Leader Jarlit. May the Maker watch over you and your soldiers.”

  “I understand, First Prime.”

  The comm unit beeped after the First Prime closed the channel on his end, and Jarlit struggled to reattach the unit to his harness, his hands shaking badly at what he had just been ordered to do. He finally got it hooked and looked around at the few remaining soldiers staring at him, looking for one with a stunner.

  “You. Come here!” He said a little too loudly as he spotted a young soldier in the back with a stunner in his waist holster and pointed at him. The soldier visibly blanched, but to his credit, he hopped forward immediately and came to attention a moment later as he reached Jarlit.

  “You will set the stunner to a frequency of 1.873 cycles and shoot the Fourth Prime twice.” The soldier immediately drew the stunner and fumbled with it for a few moments, not used to changing the settings. After a few moments, the stunner was ready, and the soldier pointed it at the Fourth Prime before looking at Jarlit with wide eyes.

  “Two times only, Sixth.”

  The young soldier flicked his head and looked back down at the Fourth Prime for a moment before depressing the triggering mechanism so fast that the two stunner blasts almost seemed like one.

  The traitorous Fourth Prime grunted before arching his back, and the six soldiers holding him down almost lost control as he tried to squirm out from under them. Jarlit reached down to his left hip and drew out the blade slowly, not wanting to do what he had been ordered but not having any choice but to obey.

  He was loyal to the king, and the First Prime was his proxy in all things. He crouched down slowly, holding the blade against his chest to prevent the soldiers from seeing how bad his hands were shaking. This one is a traitor, Jarlit. Because of him, almost two hundred good and loyal Farian soldiers are now dead, he whispered to himself in his mind as he stared into the dead fish eyes of the traitor.

  It was only then that he realized that the eyes were not blinking, and a shudder of revulsion passed through Jarlit as he finally understood what the First Prime meant when he said the Fourth Prime was not a true Farian anymore.

  The stunner blasts had taken effect by now, and the traitor did not move as Jarlit reached out with his left hand and used his long fingers to pull the flesh up from the Fourth Prime’s ribcage. He brought the blade to the strip of flesh and winced internally as he felt the sharp edge easily piercing through the skin, and a moment later, the entire blade squelched as it was forced under the skin.

  His instincts took over, as he had spent many years hunting the horned Irlak mammal of the forests, and his other hand pressed against the flesh on top of the blade as he began to use feel to guide the knife and separate the skin from the bony ribcage. It was just like skinning an Irlak, and his hands stopped shaking as he began to expertly flay the traitor.

  The outpost was deathly silent except for the grunting and whimpering of the immobilized Fourth Prime, and Jarlit worked quickly and efficiently, his long years of experience allowing him to completely skin the traitor in under three Farian minutes.

  Standing back up, Jarlit stared down at the bloody and quivering mass of exposed muscle and bone that used to be the Fourth Prime. He had been ordered by the First Prime to let him suffer, but the First Prime would not be the one to judge his soul and decide if he was worthy to enter The After. This order he will not follow, no matter the consequences of his disobedience.

  “Put him out of his misery.” He ordered quietly, directing the command to all within the room. One of the soldiers that had been holding the Fourth Prime down stepped forward and pointed a plasma pistol at the exposed skull and fired, the entire head exploding into tiny fragments of bone and flesh.

  A fine mist of purple blood and brain matter splattered Jarlit and the surrounding soldiers, causing all but Jarlit to flinch in disgust. It was done, and now it was time to follow the second order.

  “Clean this up and place the skin and corpse into a death bag. The First Prime wants it to be sent to the palace, and I do not want the humans to see what I have done. You will all disarm and place your weapons in a pile in the middle and then take stations along the wall. I am going to tell the humans to come, and the First Prime has said that any who disobey the cease-fire will suffer the same fate as the Fourth Prime.”

  As he took the comm unit off his harness, all the surviving soldiers began to quickly disarm and toss their weapons into a rapidly growing pile in the middle of the command center. Two soldiers came back with a death bag and began to gag as they shoved the flayed skin into the bag first before grabbing the corpse of the Fourth Prime, struggling to place the skinned body into the opening as it continuously slipped from their hands.

  Jarlit, sickened by the sight and what he had done, waited until the deathbag had been sealed before opening a channel to the Force leader commanding the waiting humans surrounding the outpost. “This is Force Leader Jarlit to the force leader of the humans surrounding us: The First Prime has ordered us to comply and grant you access. We are disarmed and await you.”

  It took a few moments before a human responded, and a voice that sounded like a bag of tumbling rocks responded.

  “Force Leader Jarlit, this is Captain Franklin. We are sending spy drones to verify that you are disarmed, and I respectfully request that you exit the outpost first after the drone has scanned the interior before we come.

  We have received reports of Farian units lying to us and ambushing us after declaring submission. I want to trust what you say, but I cannot risk the lives of my soldiers; I hope you understand.”

  Jarlit felt an overwhelming sense of shame coursing through him at what the human force leader had just said, and though he bristled at the insinuation of being a liar, he did understand. No doubt, the reports were true, and the Farian units had unknowingly dishonored the king and themselves because of traitors like the Fourth Prime that had ordered them to commit such sacrilege.

  “Force Leader Fran-klin, I am ashamed to hear of such dishonor being committed by our soldiers. I repeat my declaration of submission to you, and I will comply with your directives.

  Send your drones, and I will ensure the compliance of my troops when you order us to exit the outpost. You have my oath, Force Leader Fran-klin, though I understand if it means nothing to you.”

  A long moment passed before the human responded, and Jarlit could feel the regret in his voice as Force Leader Franklin replied. “I believe you, Force Leader Jarlit, and I have no reason to doubt your oath, but I cannot risk the lives of my people, and I am sorry it has come to this. Two drones are heading towards you now; please do not interfere with them, or they will self-destruct.”

  “We will obey, Force Leader Fran-klin.”

  “Acknowledged. They will arrive in thirty-seven solar seconds.”

  The comm unit beeped, and Jarlit quickly looked around to ensure all were fully disarmed before speaking loudly to be heard by them. “The humans are sending two spy drones to verify we are disarmed. Our brethren in other outposts have issued declarations of submission, only to fire on the humans when they came.”

  Shocked murmuring and scowls of anger and disbelief met his words, and he raised both hands to silence them as he continued. “No doubt, they were led to commit such dishonor by traitors like the Fourth Prime. You will remain still and not interfere with the scans of the drones, or they will self-destruct and kill us. They will be here momentarily.”

  All the soldiers quieted down and came to attention, their faces clearly showing nervousness as they tried not to fidget. A few seconds later, his comm unit beeped, and the human force leader’s unique voice carried clearly across the now silent command center. “The drones are outside; one on the sunward side and the other on the southern polar side. Are you ready for them to enter, Force Leader Jarlit?”

  “We are ready, Force Leader Fran-klin; send them in.”

  The comm unit beeped, and a moment later, the faintest of humming sounds could be heard as Jarlit suddenly found it incredibly difficult to remain completely still. Moving his head slightly, he cursed himself for his stupidity for not reorienting himself properly before having the drones enter so he could see both of the two doorways they were coming through.

  As it was now, he could only see the sunward side doorway, and he saw the semi-translucent drone as it hovered just past the opening at a height of two galactic meters. The stealth field surrounding it dropped, and now he could see the sleek black drone with its variety of sensors and cameras covering the entire surface.

  It had a vaguely insectoid quality to it, reminding him of the large blood-sucking insects that inhabited the northern swamps, and he forced himself to maintain eye contact with it as it began to slowly rotate while casting a narrow, blue scanning beam.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  It was maddening to remain completely still while the drone carefully scanned its immediate area, and he could see his soldiers beginning to fidget and slightly shifting on their feet. He flinched as the comm unit beeped again, and he almost ducked as the drone spun quickly towards him from the noise and bathed him with the blue scanning light.

  “Force Leader Jarlit, please tell your soldiers to relax and stand at ease, and please do so yourself. There is no need for them to be so rigid, and it is making the drone AIs suspicious. Just...tell them to remain where they are and not to move too much, but they can at least relax and breathe normally, for Christ's sake.”

  Some of the terms the human used were confusing and unable to be properly translated by the comm, but he understood most of what the human force leader was saying, and he called out softly to the others. “Remain where you are, but be at rest. The human says we are being too still, and the drones don’t like it. Just don’t move too much.”

  Setting the example for his soldiers, Jarlit exhaled deeply and relaxed his whole body, and the others quickly followed his example, which seemed to make the drone less suspicious as it began to rotate faster and focused its scanning beam on the pile of weapons instead of them.

  It then moved towards the deathbag and scanned it for several seconds with its blue beam before turning to face him. The comm unit beeped again, and the human’s voice came over it again, sounding hesitant. “Uh... What happened to him, Force Leader Jarlit? The scans are indicating this Farian in the body bag has been flayed and is missing his head.”

  Jarlit stared at the drone and answered truthfully, careful not to allow any of his shame to bleed into his voice as he did so. “The Fourth Prime was a traitor. He was the one who ordered our soldiers to attack you, and he is the reason why they are dead. The First Prime ordered me to flay him for treason against our king, and I obeyed.”

  The comm unit was silent for a long moment before Fran-Klin finally responded, and Jarlit was sure he heard a measure of respect in the strange, rocky voice. “I see... thank you for telling me the truth, Force Leader Jarlit; I appreciate it.” The drone turned away and continued its scans, and Jarlit felt the burden of what he had done becoming less, as if confessing it to the human had somehow made it more tolerable.

  The second drone finally came into Jarlit’s viewing range, and he watched it carefully as it began to scan each soldier from top to bottom before moving on to the rest. Now that he wasn’t struggling to remain completely still, the scanning seemed to go much faster, and before he knew it, the drones turned off their beams and hovered against the ceiling before the comm unit activated again.

  “All done with the drones, Force Leader Jarlit. Please have your men exit the sunward side opening one by one and have them form a line. I want them to place their hands on the walls above their heads. I will have the drones show you what I mean.”

  Jarlit felt relief at that, because he couldn’t properly envision what the human was ordering them to do, and he watched as the drone displayed a screen showing a mockup of Farians exiting the command center and facing the wall with their hands placed high up in a line that stretched away from the opening.

  “We will obey. I will come out first, and the rest will follow.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Do exactly as the drone showed us; nothing more.” He ordered the soldiers before turning to face the sunward opening.

  Jarlit kept a careful watch on the still hovering drones and proceeded to slowly walk towards the opening. One of the drones rotated to keep him in view, but it did not move from its position, and he reached the opening and stepped out, his eyes watering from the overly bright, ruddy light of the sun that he had not seen in many hours.

  He squinted as he tried to see the surroundings, and in the distance, he could see many small shapes of humans and their much larger machine fighters behind one of the berms they had built when they first landed.

  All in front of them were the bodies of many Farians that were sent to their senseless deaths by the traitorous Fourth Prime, and he forced himself to look away and face the wall, his anger threatening to make him do something that would cost him his life if he let it.

  Placing his hands as high up as they would go, he leaned forward slightly and placed them against the prefab walls before calling out loudly to be heard by the soldiers still inside. “Come. Do as I am and do it quickly.” The young soldier with the stunner was the first one out, and he saw him squinting against the light as he tried to look for the humans. “Get on the wall, now!” He hissed, startling the soldier, who then quickly moved to obey.

  The rest quickly followed, and he could feel his blood rapidly approaching the upper tolerable limit of warming as the red giant’s light beat down on his back and neck, drying out the moist first layer of his skin.

  A few moments later, he could hear approaching footsteps coming from behind, and he called out again to the soldiers. “Do not resist. Whatever they want you to do, you do it. I want you all to go back to your mates and your hatchlings, and the only way to do that is to obey the humans, understood?”

  They murmured in agreement, and he hoped the humans would get them back inside or under shade as quickly as possible before they started becoming severely dehydrated.

  Embassy of the Republic of Humanity

  Kovacs whooped loudly as the BioSynths gracefully leapt back over the walls and used their jump thrusters to make soft landings in the inner courtyard, elated that Durand had made it back with not even a scratch as far as he could see.

  The Farians were continuing to withdraw, and the first wave of reinforcements was almost on the ground, with a second wave now barely visible in the sky. Turning to the Pathfinder eight meters to his right, he flipped up his face shield and called out to her. “Ruiz, I’m going down to debrief the Biosynths; keep an eye on the froggies for me.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Peering off the edge of the parapet landing, he estimated the fall height and stepped off gracefully, falling the nine meters before landing on his feet and tucking into a roll to spread out the impact. He came out of the roll gracefully and sprang back up onto his feet, hoping Durand was watching him as he spun around to see if she was looking.

  She was, and his elation was crushed as she pointed a large hand at him and began to laugh, her speakers loudly broadcasting it across the courtyard. “What the fuck is so funny, huh?” He called out as he began to stalk towards her.

  It was only then that he realized he could feel air around the posterior section of the suit, and he stopped abruptly as he reached down and behind with his right hand and felt his hard, gauntleted fingers touching the translucent skinsuit covering his ass.

  “What the—” He never finished what he was saying as Durand and the other BioSynths lost it, all three of their external speakers blaring with laughter as he awkwardly struggled to close the posterior panel back up and get it to magnetically seal.

  “I told the armorer that this damn thing is malfunctioning like three times!” He shouted angrily as it finally locked in place. He could feel his face flushing in embarrassment as he forced himself to keep walking towards them, not willing to admit defeat and let them see his embarrassment.

  “That’s an interesting ass tattoo, Kovacs!” He heard from behind him, recognizing the voice. It was Ambassador Salazar who had said it, and he spun around, taking advantage of the opportunity to save some face as the now suited ambassador jogged towards him.

  “Of course, it would be you who would be looking hard enough at another man’s ass to discern that, Ambassador!” He replied hotly as he waited for the ambassador to reach him. Trying to act casual, he reached onto his waist pouch and pulled out his almost empty bag of chew, the sound of the BioSynths still giggling behind him grating on his ears.

  “Nice try, Kovacs. I don’t think you’ll be able to deflect this one, buddy.”

  “I’m not trying to deflect shit, Marco. I told the armorer three fucking times that there was something wrong with that damn panel, and now I just mooned the whole damn courtyard.” Kovacs complained before shoving a huge wad of chew into his mouth and moaning gratefully as the taste filled his mouth.

  “Yeah, okay. So, it looks like we made it after all, huh?” Marco replied as he finally reached him and held out a fist. He bumped it, a little harder than needed, and nodded in agreement as he noisily worked on hydrating the chew with his saliva.

  Marco looked disgusted, which made him happy, and he began to spitefully chew even louder as they both turned towards the waiting BioSynths and walked over together. “Your people did good, Marco. They held their positions with the rest of us, and I’m sorry about Graham. That fucking froggie sniper was good; he got two of mine as well.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too, Kovacs. I’m just glad we nailed the son of a bitch before he could get any more of our people. Nice headshot on that heavy weapons team, by the way.”

  They had reached the BioSynths while the ambassador said that, and Durand pivoted to face Kovacs, no longer giggling. “That was you?” She asked incredulously. He acknowledged the shot by curling his right fingers and blowing on the tips before wiping them on his chest plate. “Yep, that was me. I told you I had your back, Mon Ch- mmgh Durand.” He finished hastily, hoping they would think it was just him mumbling because of the chew.

  “Nicely done, Kovacs.” Durand said as she held out a massive fist. He bumped it with his own fist, which looked like a child’s compared to hers. “So, what’s the word, Kovacs? What is going on with the Farians and us?” Durand asked as Marco and the three BioSynths stared at him with eyes and cameras.

  “The chain of command is a little screwed up since there are so many players coming down to the surface. We have been ordered to hold tight for now, and there is a Captain FitzMartin in the second wave that is going to take over when he gets here. That’s all I can tell you for now.” He answered truthfully, though he was a little pissed about having his command taken from him.

  “That’s some bullshit, Kovacs. You should remain in command after successfully holding the embassy; it’s not right that some captain is coming to take over.” Durand said angrily as her speakers blared a little louder than necessary. The other two Biosynths thumped their chests in solidarity, while Marco nodded in agreement.

  “Thanks, guys, I appreciate the vote of confidence. I’m just a staff sergeant, though, and there’s what? Over two hundred reinforcements coming here? I don’t want that much paperwork to be responsible for; that’s what officers are for.”

  There was shouting behind them, and Kovacs spun around, expecting to see Farian plasma bolts passing over the parapets again. Instead of bolts, dozens of shiny black combat suits appeared out of thin air as they dropped their shrouds after jumping over the walls and expertly landed on the ground inside the courtyard.

  As the first group of reinforcements fanned out, more kept coming over the wall and dropping their shrouds before landing, and they saw one of the suits changing color around the arms as a rank band appeared. It was the captain, and Kovacs saw one of the Pathfinders pointing towards him.

  The captain looked in his direction and began jogging towards him, and Kovacs groaned inwardly as he spit out the juice in his mouth before fishing out the precious wad of tobacco and tossing it to the ground. He was almost out, and he had no idea when he would get another pouch.

  Quickly wiping his fingers on the thigh panel of his right leg, he flipped his faceplate back down and came to attention as the captain got to within five meters and slowed to a walk before finally stopping a meter away. He became acutely aware of how beat up and filthy his own suit was as he looked at the spotless and unmarred suit of the captain standing before him.

  Kovacs saluted him, and the captain returned it before stepping forward another two paces and reaching a hand up to toggle the faceplate. It hissed as it flipped up, and Kovacs found the lightest blue eyes he had ever seen in his life peering at him, framed by pale skin and a heavily freckled face with a short-cropped, bright red beard.

  He was surprised by the sing-song quality of the captain’s accent as he spoke into his comm unit, and he couldn’t place it; it was like Scottish but different, and it took him a moment to get used to it as the captain informed command that he was in the embassy before closing the channel and looking back at him with his piercing eyes.

  “Staff Sergeant Kovacs? I am Captain FitzMartin. I have been ordered to take control of the embassy defenses by command. I have also been told to pass along the congratulations and praise of both command and Fleet Admiral Thompson on your successful defense of the embassy against such overwhelming odds. Nicely done, Staff Sergeant, and my condolences for your losses. Respect for the fallen.”

  Kovacs flipped his faceplate up and mirrored the captain, kissing his two fingers and placing them over his heart before responding. “We thank you for your condolences, and we are very happy you are here, sir. We did not expect reinforcements to arrive here so quickly. How’d you get here so fast, if you don’t mind me asking, sir?”

  “We were already on our way for reasons that cannot be revealed right now, Staff Sergeant. I am just grateful that circumstances aligned in such a way that we were able to get here in time. What is that, Staff Sergeant?”

  As Captain FitzMartin was answering the question, his eyes had been roaming around the courtyard and finally settled on something behind and above Kovacs's head, and he quickly spun around to see what it was. The original battle flag was a scorched mess from the froggies shooting at it, and the same Pathfinders that had made the first one were currently raising a brand new one that was almost an exact copy, except some of the colors were different, probably because they ran out of the original paint ink they used.

  “That’s our battle flag, sir. As you can see, the Farians didn’t like it so much and tried their damned hardest to destroy it, and I gave permission to raise the second one when they started to retreat. Do you want me to order them to stop, sir?”

  The captain looked back at him and then back at the battle flag several times before the faintest hint of a smirk touched his lips as he answered the question. “No, Staff Sergeant. That’s your battle flag, and you and your people have earned the right to display it. It will stay right where it is until I receive an official order to remove it from command.”

  Stepping closer until they were almost face-to-face, the captain lowered his voice before speaking again. “I do not like having to take your command away from you, Kovacs. You did a fine job here, but you know how it is. I would appreciate it if you would debrief me and let me know the lay of the land.

  I don’t know shit about what’s been going on here, and I am not going to come in here and pretend like I do. You and your people have been here for a long time, and you fought hard to hold this embassy; as far as I am concerned, it’s still your house.” As the captain stepped back a single pace, his estimation of him rose considerably, and he felt his initial hostility fading away.

  “Of course, sir. I can bring you to my command post and get you situated. Please follow me, sir.” Kovacs pointed first towards the embassy annex and waited for the captain to step to his side before proceeding towards the small command post he had set up.

  They continued in silence as more reinforcements continued to jump over the perimeter walls, and Kovacs felt his heart quicken at the sight of a low-flying formation of reconfigured starfighters on the horizon as they flew towards the embassy.

  “Oh, here.” Captain FitzMartin said before stopping and reaching into a waist pouch. Kovacs stopped and waited, wondering what he was looking for, and his eyes widened as he saw the captain pull out an unopened shiny foil pack with the label of his favorite brand of chew on it.

  The captain held it out to him, and he took it reverently. “Wow, thank you, sir! How did you know what brand I chew?" He asked in surprise as he turned it around in his hands. There was handwriting on the back, and he looked back up at the captain as he answered.

  “An Operator Durand connected with BioSynth Regimental Command after we arrived and requested that the relief forces coming to the embassy bring a pouch for a Staff Sergeant Kovacs. The word was passed through the fleet, and this was the only pouch of your brand that could be located right away. Luckily, it got to me before I got on the drop pod. There was quite a relay involved in getting it to me, and a message written on the back for you.”

  He looked back down and began to read the handwritten words on the back.

  For Staff Sergeant Abel Kovacs, 4th Pathfinders, Republic Embassy of Faria

  Sorry, this is the only one we could find on such short notice. If we find more, we will send it down to you. Nice job kicking those froggie asses.

  Lt. Alvarez Pvt. Jameson Sgt. Bosco PO3. Smith SCPO. Johnson MSG. Carlson Cpl. Nyugen 2Lt. Simmons CPT. FitzMartin

  Courtesy of Operator Elyna Durand, 2nd BioSynth Regiment

  Kovacs felt his heart swelling with love for all who were involved, but especially for Durand. Looking back up at Captain FitzMartin, he smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Captain. This means an awful lot to me. Maybe when we are settled in, you can help me figure out who was involved in the relay so I can thank them personally.”

  “Sure thing, Staff Sergeant. Let’s get to the command post, shall we?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  As they started heading towards the embassy annex again, he looked around to see if he could spot Durand, but he couldn’t see her within his visual range, and he made a mental note to find her and personally thank her as soon as he was able to. A smile came upon his lips as he thought of the smoking, sultry French woman he had manufactured in his mind.

  I knew she liked me; who could blame her? You’re a goddamn stud, Abel.

  Sklanak District

  1,352.6 likals from the capital

  Alixa lingered on the periphery of the scene, keeping careful tabs on Ayoub’s suit as she searched the area with two SAR medics. He felt like a coward for not joining, but he knew in his heart he would not be able to handle seeing Anson’s broken body, and Ayoub’s gentle insistence that he stay there only reinforced it.

  His heart stopped as he saw Ayoub’s large hand go up before pointing at the ground in front of the group, and the two medics rushed forward as Ayoub spun around to face him. He heard the private channel being activated before Ayoub’s gentle voice filled his helmet. “We found him, mushy. The medics are looking him over now.”

  He didn’t respond to her. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to; his throat became a painful lump again, and he puffed his cheeks out twice as he tried to get control of his breathing. An unbearable amount of time passed before she spoke again. “Come over here, mushy.” She wasn’t asking him this time; she was telling him, and he found himself walking over without realizing it until he was almost halfway there.

  Once he realized what he was doing, his breathing became fast and shallow, and his knees felt like they would give out any second now. Forcing himself to keep going, he began to count his paces to keep himself focused, just like Anson taught him to do when they first started going on forced marches during book camp.

  By the time he counted to thirty-seven, he was almost upon them, and Ayoub held up a hand before her voice filled his helmet again. “Wait one, mushy.” He obeyed her and stopped, and he could see the two medics opening a cover between them before they laid it down on the ground out of his view.

  “Come.”

  His feet moved him forward, and he counted another nine paces before he stopped, unable to go anymore. On the ground in a shallow crater was the cloth covering most of a body, with only the top of the shoulders and a helmet with a badly cracked faceplate visible.

  He stared at the shape under the cloth, and he could see that the legs and arms were wrong immediately. It was becoming really difficult to breathe, and he reached up with his hand and flipped up the faceplate, disgusted with the damage assessment the HUD scans were displaying.

  “Is he—”

  “He’s somehow still alive, though he won’t be for much longer, Alixa. He will not be waking up again.”

  As Ayoub’s words stabbed into his heart, he felt pure hatred boiling up inside of him, and he glared at her back as he screamed. “Why did you make me come here to see him like this, Ayoub!? Why would you do this to me?”

  The chassis swiveled around on the waist joint, and now Ayoub’s front cameras were pointed at his face as she spoke over the private channel again. “You will be speaking to me with more respect, Specialist Alixa. You will do well to remember your place before you talk to me in such a way again.”

  Her response was more than he could bear, and he looked down at the ground as he stopped trying to hold his tears back and finally let them come. He could see them splashing on the ground and getting absorbed by the parched, yellowish soil as it greedily drank his sorrow, and he heard Ayoub asking the two medics to give them some privacy as he continued to grieve for Anson.

  After a while, Ayoub’s voice filled the helmet again, soft and gentle again. “Mushy, there is not much time left. You need to come here and decide your friend’s fate.” His head shot up, and he stared at the primary camera in confusion as his grieving mind tried to make sense of what she had just said.

  “What do you mean? You said he doesn’t have much longer.”

  “He doesn’t. The medics say his AI has confirmed that he signed the paperwork to be bottled in case of his imminent death or catastrophic injury, but to do so requires permission from family or an assigned medical proxy. He has listed his mother, his uncle, and you as his medical proxy, and he will die before his mother or uncle can give permission.”

  He ran forward until he was standing beside the covered body of Anson, and he knelt, staring at the badly cracked mirror faceplate. “What do I do!? What needs to be done?” he asked frantically as he looked back at Ayoub, who was swiveling her chassis back to face him and Anson. She raised her hand, loudly calling the medics back over with her external speakers, and they came rushing back with a bunch of bags and equipment.

  One of them knelt next to him and stared at him with a datapad held up between them. “Are you listed as a medical proxy of one Anson Balkus?” Alixa nodded his head, and the medic shook the datapad. “You need to verbally confirm for voiceprint verification and legal reasons. Let’s start over, okay?”

  “Are you listed as a medical proxy of one Anson Balkus?”

  “I am.”

  “Please state your name and rank for the record.”

  “Specialist Alixa Lak Nimto, Lak Arlia.”

  “Do you give the Republic Medical Corps permission to begin the bottling process for one Anson Balkus?”

  “I do.”

  “Please place your thumb on the scanner.”

  Alixa did as he was told, missing the small thumbprint a couple of times as his frayed nerves made his hand shake violently. The datapad beeped twice as it scanned his thumbprint two times. Once that was done, the medic tapped on the screen a couple of times before holding it back up.

  “Please repeat after me. I, Specialist Alixa Lak Nimto, Lak Arlia, do give permission as a designated medical proxy for one Anson Balkus to be bottled by the Republic Medical Corps in an attempt to save his life.

  I assume all rights and responsibilities for my decision, and I swear that this decision was made of my own free will without any outside influence or interference from any military or medical personnel.”

  It took Alixa two times before he got all the words out right and the datapad accepted his declaration, and the medic placed his hand on his shoulder when it was done and stared at him intently as he whispered to him. “You did good. You are trying to save your friend’s life, and I promise you, we are going to do our best to make sure this works, okay?” Alixa nodded gratefully, and the medic shot up with incredible speed as he began to bark at the other medic. “Let’s go! Inject him with the stabilizers, and let’s get him into a stasis medpod. Move!”

  As the other medic ran forward with his bag and threw off the blanket covering Anson’s body, Alixa finally saw how badly disfigured his friend truly was as he stared at the broken form in shock.

  The entire pelvic section was busted open, and a mass of ruptured flesh and internal organs was exposed through the shattered openings, surrounded by a massive patch of dark red ground that was already dried. One of his legs was only still connected by some wires, and the other one was bent backwards and under Anson’s lower back with the white bone of his shattered hip joint already covered in small insects.

  He cried out and spun around, wishing he could tear his eyes out as the image remained in his mind even though he wasn’t looking at Anson anymore, and he felt Ayoub grabbing him gently and moving him away. “Come, Alixa.” He let himself be guided away as he heard the medic who had taken his statement yelling into a comm unit for an emergency pickup, and he started hyperventilating as all the emotional turmoil and panic he had been subjected to since landing finally overwhelmed him.

  He fell to his knees and leaned over, gasping as his desperate lungs tried to take in air but couldn’t. I am dying. I am dying. Anson, I’m sorry. I’m sor-

  “Breathe, mushy, breathe. Remember your training. I am ordering your suit to give you an anxiolytic now; just keep breathing for me.”

  He felt a sharp prick in his neck as the autodoc injected him with something, and his lungs immediately felt more open as he struggled to remember the proper combat breathing technique for hyperventilation. After what felt like forever, he finally was breathing normally, and he let Ayoub help him back up on shaking legs before leaning on her chassis for support.

  He watched silently as the efficient medics got the stasis medpod carrying his best friend onto the retrieval boat, and he watched it climb until he could no longer see it anymore. The same medic came walking over to them, a small box in his hands, and he silently held it out to him. He took it and opened it, his eyes tearing up as he saw the quantum crystal that housed Anson’s AI within it. He looked back up at the medic. “Thank you for this.”

  The medic nodded and turned away without another word as he walked back to where Anson’s body was and started gathering the scattered equipment back up. Staring at the crystal, he felt an overwhelming urge to talk to it, and he placed it into the secondary port under his right ear before flipping his faceplate back down.

  “Anson, I am going to activate the other chip for a minute, okay?

  ~ Affirmative. ~

  Using his eyes, he activated the menu and selected from the drop-down options being displayed on the HUD before clicking on the one he was looking for by blinking his right eyelid. After receiving confirmation, he hesitated for a few moments, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

  “Hello?”

  ~ Hello, Specialist Alixa. How may I be of assistance? ~

  “I... just wanted to hear your voice. Anson was my best friend, and you are his AI. What is your name?”

  ~ My name is Alix, short for Alixa. I was named after you, and he speaks of you frequently. I am deeply concerned for Anson; do you think he is going to survive? I cannot bring myself to calculate his chances of survival; I feel as if I calculate it, it will make it true, and I do not wish to do so if the results are not favorable. ~

  The question hurt him deeply, but knowing the AI was sharing in his grief also made it easier to bear, and Alixa felt a strong desire to console the AI that was named after him.

  “Yes. Anson will be okay, and you will be with him again someday soon. He will be in a bottle, and you will be even more connected to him than... before.”

  ~ Thank you. I am glad to hear you say so, and my neural nets are no longer so... discordant. ~

  “You are welcome, Alix. Do you wish to remain active?”

  ~ Yes, please. I do not want to be alone right now. ~

  “Okay, Alix. Please plot a course back to our previous position in front of the Farian outpost.”

  ~ Affirmative. ~

  As a map with waypoints came up on the HUD, he dimmed it and looked at Ayoub before nodding slowly to let her know he was ready to go. She reoriented so that her back was facing him without saying anything, and he quickly climbed on before lightly tapping her sensor dome to let her know he was ready.

  As she entered the loping stride and picked up speed, he connected to the Milnet and activated silent mode before beginning to dictate. He would follow human tradition and send a letter to Anson’s mother, informing her of what had happened.

  Anson made him promise to do so if anything happened to him, and he intended to keep that promise.