by Dan O'Brien
“I figured that Richards would have crushed him. The Box is ancient, isn’t he? Didn’t he used to be a security agent?” Daeken replied.
“We better get back to our rounds before the boss catches us goofing off,” replied the other, as he started to walk off. He stopped after a few footsteps and turned back toward Daeken. “You know why we’re on a level-two security alert?”
“I overheard the boss talking to the general about it. There is supposed to be some sort of attack on the reactor by some covert State team, but I doubt anything will become of it. Our fleet was ready for them.”
Mela grimaced, feeling the news like a physical blow.
* * * * *
There was an air of dismay on the bridge of The Hawk’s Eye, and Admiral Roberts stood alone watching the worthless slaughter of his fighter pilots. The thought of their collective deaths weighed heavily on the aging admiral.
“Admiral, we are receiving a transmission from the council,” called a helmsman from his post on The Hawk’s Eye bridge. “Shall I patch it through, sir?”
Roberts nodded and focused on the view-screen. The cruel face of Welvon appeared. His emotion rose to his voice before he could contain it. “Where is the Supreme Council?” questioned Roberts.
“I am Supreme Council now,” replied Welvon, his face controlling the rising laugh of triumph.
Roberts hid behind a mask of confusion, his emotions fighting to take control and tell this worm before him what he truly felt. “I do not follow you, Councilman Welvon.” Roberts’ words bit against the rising fear that was forming in the pit of his stomach.
“Councilman Damon has been relieved of his position, and I have been chosen to stand in his place,” replied Welvon, an evil smirk across his face. Welvon’s broad face and sagging chin occupied the entirety of the view screen, obstructing all behind him.
“What do you wish of us then, Supreme Council Welvon?” asked Roberts, his voice wavering in defeat.
“You are to withdraw your forces from the Baldorian sector and return to Verdule immediately.” Welvon’s voice took on a tone of pure elation, as if telling them to diminish all hope and return in defeat made his day complete.
Roberts looked down at his crew and sighed heavily, knowing that democracy was at an end. “Understood. The Hawk’s Eye out.” The screen faded to static, then blanked. “Helmsman.”
“Awaiting orders, Admiral.” Tason sat quietly in front of the control board that was now flashing bright colors and blinking from one to another in an indiscernible flash of information.
“Have all remaining fighters dock immediately, and lay a course for Verdule. We are withdrawing from here.” No sooner than Roberts had uttered the words, the last storm exploded in a shower of sparks against the stars. Roberts turned and stared into the vastness of space.
* * * * *
The Roseblade crew watched as The Hawk’s Eye warped from the sector in an explosion of thermal gases. Reckson stood on the walkway overlooking the control stations and watched her foes run in defeat. For less than a moment she allowed emotion to well up inside, and let it pass just as quickly.
“Lieutenant, open a frequency immediately,” ordered Admiral Reckson. The view-screen quietly conveyed static before Xzin’s face appeared glowing in anticipation of the news. Reckson’s face gave no indication.
“What news do you bring me, Admiral Reckson?” questioned Xzin with a smile spread across his broad features, his eyes black spheres burrowed deep in his skull, never allowing the light to infect them.
“The State’s forces have withdrawn. They have failed. We have triumphed. What are your orders?” replied Reckson. Always at attention, her eyes reflected her unwillingness to fail.
“You have dispatched all of the State’s attacking vessels?”
“Of course, my lord.” Reckson’s face showed no pleasure, but she felt a certain satisfaction from carrying out her mission to the letter.
“Remain where you are in case of any other form of attack on the sector. You impress me as usual, Admiral Reckson, and you will be rewarded for your success,” replied Xzin.
The screen went blank. Reckson could finally return to her eternal home: space.
* * * * *
Wei moved stealthily along the rooftops, his sword drawn and held at his side, the crimson color illuminating his path. He could see the reactor in the distance and stole his way across the remaining rooftops with small, short bursts, landing without a sound. He stopped at the final building and peered down to see if there was anyone below guarding the entrance.
He spotted only five guards in the entire area. Wei leapt across the gap and landed on the walkway above the guards, drawing along the long coil of his plasma line. The guards started to circle around the building, and Wei seized the opportunity to fire a line down around one of the guard’s necks. He pulled, hanging the guard off the walkway, the body twitching violently without sound.
Wei leapt to the ground and moved around the reactor floor, making sure to tread lightly, leaving no footprints for an unlikely guard to follow. He grabbed another guard by the base of the neck and swung him around in the opposite direction, snapping his spine. The third guard turned at the sound of the body hitting the ground, his rifle coming in line with Wei’s frame.
Wei sidestepped and slashed forward with the blade, slicing at the man’s waistline, spilling his intestines onto the ground. The last two guards charged Wei while his back was turned, and Wei fell to the ground to make himself less of a target. In one smooth movement two projectiles flew from his hand. The guards fell to the ground in convulsed movements.
The reactor-core tower lever stood out among the mechanisms. It was spherical, a mixture of constant colors flowing through it. Wei rotated the sphere until it shone black. The tower’s hum slowed and then stopped, indicating the manual shutdown. Wei turned on his heels and leapt back up the terrace above. He then sat cross-legged in the confines of the shadows, awaiting the other members of Alpha Zero.
* * * * *
Rider did not have the patience, or the tact, to go the covert avenue. He merely made his way down the main cargo entrance and acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Several guards were milling around the entry. Rider drew his plasma staff in anticipation. The first soldier stepped forward and placed a hand on Rider’s shoulder in an attempt to impede his progress.
“Stop. You are not authorized to be here,” began the leader, his gaze shifting to the Spacehawks emblem on Rider’s suit and then back up in panic. His brow began sweating at the realization of who stood before him.
Rider grabbed the leader’s arm and snapped it around his back, pushing the man into the laser fire of the other security troops. Steaming and burnt, the body fell to the ground. The troops stopped in astonishment, their rifles falling to their sides.
He took advantage of the opportunity and brought his leg across, kicking the nearest guard in the chest, crushing it immediately. He used his body momentum and spun his other leg in a high arc, bringing his boot around and striking the other stunned guard at the base of his neck. The head fell limp and the body crashed to the ground in a disjointed heap.
The remaining three came at Rider with their weapons blazing, the red laser sight fixed squarely on Rider’s chest plate. Rider’s now energized armor deflected the fire and he drew his plasma staff, spinning it in concentric arcs. The energy lashed out in waves upon the remaining guards. He used the diversion to charge the lead guard and lift him into the air with his staff. He brought the dead body crashing down on the next guard’s skull, crushing it instantly. The remaining duo tried to escape, but the explosion from Rider’s flame cannon stopped them dead, literally.
Rider felt no satisfaction from their deaths, but he knew it was necessary to protect the State. Rider made his way along the dusty path to the reactor core, his mind nagging at the possibility of having been betrayed.
* * * * *
She took post intermittent with t
he taller buildings on the compound, keeping herself hidden from sight. Mela sighted Wei at the reactor from where she stood upon the roof of the general’s building, her armor disengaged so that she wouldn’t attract thermal scans from the ground troops. She raised her arm, the armor trickling forward in waves of energy as she ran her hand over the sensor eye to facilitate her actions. A shot of plasma line flew to the top of the reactor, her body flying forward when she activated the release.
The sky was beginning to darken.
She removed a sight enhancer from her suit and surveyed the area, detecting no security guards within one hundred meters. She peered down at her chrono, shading her eyes from the setting sun; one hour till rendezvous at the reactor core. She walked around the catwalk and climbed down the security ladder, searching for a way in. Her internal scanners provided no warning when the figure crept up behind her, its features hidden by the flickering shadows of the setting sun.
“Freeze, intruder,” called a voice from behind.
Mela, caught completely off-guard, stopped in her tracks and slowly raised her hands into the air in a gesture of compliance. A guard poked a rifle into the small of her back, the muzzle warm from recent firing. Mela spun quickly and kicked the guard square in the stomach, knocking the rifle from his hands.
She dropped his lifeless body off the edge of the terrace. She bent to pick up the assault rifle, but flinched when she felt a numbing pain in her side. She fell to the ground; her arms limp at her side. Her eyes fluttered as she began to fade out. Before the blackness enveloped her, she saw the attacker’s uniform. It bore the insignia of Xzin.
* * * * *
Wei’s eyes opened suddenly, as if the life had been sucked out of him. He looked out across the field, his plane of vision falling upon Mela. He picked up his sword and sheathed it harshly. Leaping from building to building, his feet finding holds among the walkways and beams that surrounded them, his boots finally clattered against the terrace where Mela lay.
He drew his sword instinctively, expecting a trap.
His eyes continued to search for his unseen adversary as his hands found the fabric of her uniform. Not bothering to glance at the face below him, he pulled the body closer. He heard a cackling, and his eyes swept quickly to the body before him. It was not his comrade, Mela, but another wearing the uniform of the Spacehawks.
“Not your friend, hero,” laughed the man as he kicked Wei in the stomach and knocked him against the reactor wall.
The sword fell from Wei’s grip, skirting across the metallic walkway. It came to a stop at the far edge, threatening to fall to the ground below. Wei’s hands moved concisely, striking his attacker in the face with tremendous ferocity. The figure tilted back, and Wei rolled forward quickly, gathering his sword from the edge and brandishing it against his opponent.
“You will not take me so easily, scum.”
Wei’s words were low and belligerent.
“Heroes and your valiant pride. You cannot win. My master has told me to eliminate the threat that infects our moon, and that is what I will do.”
The gruesome figure’s mouth was twisted with an evil sneer, rows of razor-sharp teeth gleaming beneath his thin, green lips. Wei flicked the sword forward and slashed in a series of precise, penetrating strikes, but none connected. The figure moved quickly and grabbed Wei by the arm, bringing his leg around and striking him across the back.
Wei fell to the ground, his spine erupting in pain.
The figure produced a long, cylindrical pole and jabbed it into Wei’s back. The stick erupted in static electricity, the wave causing his body to fall motionless. Wei was hoisted upon the attacker’s shoulder and carried toward the terrace wall.
The wall dematerialized.
Lugging Wei, the victor walked down a corridor and into a storage room. He opened the door allowing light to enter the enshrouded quarters. Mela was tied up in the far corner. He tossed Wei next to her and returned to the hunt. His prey was the final Alpha Zero, Lieutenant James Rider.
* * * * *
Rider’s footsteps slowed as he neared the entrance of the reactor. The surrounding corridor was dark, and a film of gas residue slickened the walls. He lowered his visor, and the field was covered in green beneath his enhancers. His hand rested on his assault rifle. A small hiss sounded when he disengaged the safety.
The green field darkened, and Rider reached out with one of his gloved hands, running his fingers over the slimy structure. Rider pushed on the door panel, and it slid open with a disgusting, squashing sound. He stepped into the darkness. The hallway burst into a crimson rain, the floodlights gleamed, and an alarm rang out in the distance. The familiar crashing of boots on sludge echoed through the hallway.
The soldiers stopped in formation opposite Rider in the narrow corridor. Rider drew his assault rifle and unloaded random bursts upon the squadron in the vain hope of disorienting them. He engaged his suit and flew across the corridor, his plasma staff drawn at his side and charged. In one subtle movement he discharged a wave of green energy.
All in range were consumed.
The bodies collapsed in a series of coordinated thumps, and Rider lowered and powered down his armor. He reached out and pushed the door open, allowing the luminance from the other room to cast a glare across the mayhem.
It was a sickening sight.
The bodies lay in random heaps, their limbs contracted in strange shapes and forms, their blood splattered across the walls. In the darkness, the shadows seemed to have a will of their own, demons prowling in the dank, dead air.
Rider turned away from the grotesque sight and focused on the path ahead, not wanting to dwell on the meaningless deaths of people who knew no better. The air was calm with the kind of silence that accompanies death. The only real sound was the dripping of the coolant leaking from the inner core chambers.
Drip. Drip. Drrrrippp.
The sound brought a chill to Rider’s skin. The air slipped past him like a snake through weeds. Eeriness sent vivid images of death careening through his mind. The shadows stirred, and a form revealed itself from within, taking shape as it crawled through the darkness, its eyes shining like a feral animal prowling in the moonlight. Rider energized his armor, the emerald aura illuminating the darkness and casting shadows across Rider’s set features.
“Lieutenant James Rider,” called the dark silhouette from the shadows. The boots echoed in the storage containment, and the walls resounded with their misery.
“Who are you?” Rider’s words came out jumbled and in haste. The two circled, tracking each other like hunters.
“Rodar.” The name rebounded in the hollow area.
Rider could feel the evil radiate, the pale gray and black aura seeping from Rodar’s being, dissipating into the luminance of the body armor.
“I have been sent to destroy Alpha Zero. The rest of your team, I have already dealt with. Surrender now and your death will be quick. ”
“How did you know we were here?” questioned Rider, as he powered his weapons systems and drew his plasma staff.
“Lord Xzin had a mole within your council, and he informed us of the attack ahead of time. By now, your pathetic fleet is defeated and you are abandoned on this moon to die,” he replied, mocking Rider as he twirled his sword.
Rider’s face flushed, his anger rising to the surface. “Welvon. It’s Welvon, isn’t it?” he spat. “You have been misinformed. We are not quite so easy to dispatch.”
Rider leapt in the air and came down hard on Rodar’s forearm, the plasma staff striking true, but with no damage inflicted. Rodar merely pushed Rider back against the retaining wall, knocking the plasma staff from his grip.
“You know that woman I caught is delightful. I may have a little fun with her before I rip her heart out.” Rodar’s face was contorted in a grimace, his lips tucked inward against the rows of sharpened teeth.
“Never.” The word split the air and the oxygen grew thin as Rider’s aura darkened, his blue eyes cloud
ed, and his hate pushing forward into his foe. A roar of rage escaped Rider’s mouth, and he dove at Rodar with everything he had, his body armor extending blades far into the path of his destruction. Rodar was caught off-guard, and Rider hit him before he had a chance to defend himself.
The blades slashed at his forearms, drawing blood to the surface. Rodar fell to the ground panting and brought his hand up to his mouth. He tasted his own blood. Rider brought his plasma staff back to center, its glowing length reflecting Rider’s hatred.
Rodar leapt up quickly and kicked Rider in the chest, knocking him back, but Rider spun and side-kicked Rodar, smashing the attacker’s face into the slick, hard enclosure. The blood smeared thickly and ebbed slowly down the wall, the light giving it a chilling appearance as if the blood itself was a purely evil entity.
Rodar brought his sword across in response and slashed Rider across the chest, drawing blood through his armor. Rider felt the blood run through his fingers when he wiped his chest.
“How did you do that?” asked Rider in disbelief.
The amazement blanketed his face.
His eyes glazed for a moment.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” laughed Rodar as he leapt at Rider again. Rider blocked and turned, bringing his plasma staff in a high arc and cutting at the last moment. Rodar screamed as his arm slid to the ground. He coughed up blood as he tried to speak. There was a horizontal slash across his chest where the staff had found its mark.
“You should never anticipate the outcome of battle, but rather allow for the fates to take their course. You were a fool to come here,” breathed Rider.
He decapitated Rodar with one slash of his plasma staff, the head rolling effortlessly to the moist floor. Rodar’s eyes stared blankly up toward the heavens, and Rider bent close and ran his hand over them, shutting them for all eternity. Rider brushed his sleeve along his face, wiping away the blood that was congealing.