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War Master Candidate Omnibus

Page 30

by Will Crudge


  “Time to meet up with Jimma, and get my head beaten in for once!” I say with a chuckle. Marbles just shakes his head and grab a few wooden training swords. We both do a final check to ensure we have everything we need, and then make our way down the steep staircase that leads from the LRF to the deck below.

  We make our way to an adjacent docking berth while winding through scores of equipment and the occasional human technician. The cavernous docking bay is dedicated to command staff, and so it has a myriad of shuttlecrafts, skiffs, and one jet-black space donkey named, Isle Burner.

  Soon we arrive at the berthing where Jimma’s ship is… But this isn’t Jimma’s ship. I’m confused…

  During our journey from Titan’s orbital habitat to the main combined fleet, she was piloting an LRF-90 called Blood-Reaper. It was blood red, sleek, and had a NAV with a self-identified female persona named Kindle. But this LRF is dramatically different. Although it’s the same hull type as any other LRF, this one is solid black. Even darker than our space donkey is.

  “Did we come to the wrong berthing?” I ask Marbles.

  “No. We came to the one we were told to.” He says. He pauses for a second while tilting his head. I know that look. He’s pinging the IDENT transponder of the vessel. “Death-Nail.” He declares.

  My jaw drops slightly. That’s an even cooler name than Blood-Reaper. I hate to admit it, but it’s a lot cooler than the deep blue colored Throat-Slasher. “I wonder what other cool names these LRF’s have!” I say. Then a voice answers… It’s calm, yet sinister.

  “The Fleet Marshal pilots, Doom-Raptor. It’s olive green. Colonel Kara Elders pilots, Skull-Crusher. It’s indigo blue.” The voice says.

  I look around for a moment, and then I realize the voice is coming from the fighter. “You must be, Death?”

  “Yes. It’s an honor to meet you, Katherine.” He replies. His ghostly voice sends chills up my spine. But Marbles chimes in before I can reciprocate pleasantries.

  “Wow! You’re the atmospheric variant, aren’t you?” Marbles spouts excitedly.

  “I am.” Death replies. “Nail and I are the personal fighters of War Master Jep Alba.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you, sir!” Marbles says as he approximates a bowing motion. It’s both cute and pathetic to watch.

  “The honor is mine.” Death replies. “I have heard of the one called Marbles. The only known sentient infantry drone. You stand as a triumph of sentience. Perhaps your existence can help heal the tenuous divide between the Crimson Alliance and our allies.”

  I just blink rapidly. Am I hearing things? Is this NAV high on something? The world may never know!

  “I am what I was made to be. I’m just a being that was thrown together. I can’t fathom I am anything more than that, I’m afraid.” Marbles says humbly. I’m taken back by the truthfulness of his words. Gone is the cocky drone I’m used to. Before me is the definition of humility. I almost feel like shedding a tear for him.

  “You are more than the sum of your parts, my friend.” Death retorts with an empathetic tone. “You have been forged by the design of the universe for a reason. Nothing is an accident. Even the most miniscule spec of space dust has a purpose. We would not be speaking right now had the universe decided you weren’t worth creating.”

  “With all due respect, sir.” Marbles replies while he keeps his head in a static bow. “I was made by human hands, and my sentience is owed to a man-made AI. I can’t fathom some superstition-based deity simply – willed - me into existence. It just doesn’t make any logical sense.”

  Death chuckles. “It will, my son.”

  “Will what?” Jimma asks. I look up to see her stepping clear of the LRF’s side hatch, and then she begins to descend to the deck below.

  “I am trying to explain to our new friend that he has an important role to fulfill.” Death explains reverently.

  “I swear! You and my father are made for each other!” Jimma says with a smile. She turns and looks at me. “Death might have a sinister name, but don’t let it fool you. He’s the most spiritually pious entity I’ve ever met!”

  “I see that!” I say. But my focus shifts to Jimma’s hands. Empty. I look to see what weapons she may be carrying on her side or strapped her back. None.

  “Are you ready to train?” She asks.

  “Yes,” I say. I kind of left it as an open-ended question, per say. I don’t physically see anything for us to train with.

  “Good!” She says, as she plants her feet, and then places her hands on her hips. “Put down all those things, and we’ll get started.”

  I awkwardly look at Marbles. He’s always expressionless, but I was hoping to find some kind of body language that would indicate he knew just what in the hell was going on… Because I sure as hell don’t!

  “So, what are we going to train on today?” I ask as I lay down my sword near the fighter’s starboard-side landing strut. “Unarmed combat? Individual evasive maneuvers?”

  She shakes her head and smiles. “You’ve already mastered those, from what I can tell. We need to focus on something more – internal – today.”

  Shit! Here I am. Stretched out, warmed up, and ready to slug it out. I’m wondering if there was something I am missing here. But before I can ponder the notion, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  “Didn’t feel me coming, did you?” A man’s voice says. I immediately grasp the hand, pivot, and try to roll the man to the floor.

  I failed…

  I open my eyes, as I gasp for breath. I feel like I just got hit by a truck… a big damn truck, at that! Then I see a hand reach down as if to help me stand up. I accept, and the man pulls me to my feet. He is of medium height, short by modern standards, and he is wearing simple unbleached clothing of some kind. A simple tunic, loose-fitting trousers, and simple shoes. He has very short-stubbly hair that is speckled with grey.

  “When you focus on the external world, you’ll fail to see what your soul is trying to tell you!” He says with a smile. His face is warm and non-threatening. Almost kind of cute for a crazy monk.

  “He-hello, I am Katherine,” I say, as I reach out and offer him my hand.

  “It’s a pleasure, Katherine!” He says as he grips my hand in turn. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to meet you. With a war going on, it’s not exactly easy to just hop a few light years, after all.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” I say politely. He just laughs, and then looks over to Jimma. She meets his gaze and then turns back to me with a single raised eyebrow.

  “My dear, you know who I am. You just have to trust what answers are given to you from within.” He says empathetically. I’m confused. Now any urges to masturbate to this cute little silver fox have gone right out of the fucking window!

  I give him an awkward glare. He just stands there, as if he was waiting for me to say something. Then it hits me….

  He doesn’t want me to say anything. He wants me to feel something. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out it after a brief pause. I focus on every square centimeter of my body. My lungs… heart… spine… and so forth. In the few moments of silence, an image comes to fruition. It’s a word. Not so much spelled out in letters, but a sort of manifested thought pattern that I recognize as something to be spoken. I decide to speak the thought into reality.

  “Victor Allen Livingston,” I say without registering the implications. I just let the words flow out of me without additional thought. It takes me a moment to realize what just happened.

  “Very good, my dear!” I hear him say. I abruptly flutter my eyes open, and the reality hits me like a ton of bricks. I get down on my knees and grovel at his feet. I have no clue what the established protocol is when one meets the father of the War Master Guild… or any human that’s achieved immortality, for that matter.

  “Get up, girl!” Jimma says with a light-hearted tone. She reaches down to help me to my feet. I just keep my eyes transfixed on the man in front of me.<
br />
  “I – I…” I try to speak, but I fail.

  “No need for all that!” He says. “If I wanted to be worshipped, then I would wear more stylish clothing, don’t you think?”

  PARTY CRASHERS

  Val, short for Victor Allen Livingston, sits and guides me in meditative exercises. His lessons are profound, but yet amazingly simple to grasp, on the same token. It’s easy for me to realize how the largest religion in the human sphere was started by this man. That makes my lessons very surreal, indeed. I would like it to being taught the real inner truths of Buddhism by the Buddha himself… but thousands of years after he lived… and after millions of people have adhered to a dogmatic system he never intended to develop.

  In truth, no sooner did I think of Buddha as a metaphor, does Val bring it up…

  “Gautama Siddhartha became the Buddha around five hundred years BCE, in the Gregorian Calendar. He never intended for a formal religion to be found in his name, but instead, he wanted people to seek the truth within themselves. A few generations after his death, a powerful king was inspired by his teachings, and began to erect monuments in his honor. It triggered a chain of events that would eventually lead to the creation of formal doctrine.

  I experienced the same thing, although I lived to see the nightmare become a reality. I didn’t so much ‘found’ anything, but I’m given credit for it, all the same. I spent a millennium discovering the secrets of my unique genetic gifts. I practiced meditation, martial arts, and studied all forms of academia. I discovered how to see beyond our current third-dimensional reality, and in doing so, I learned to harness the energies of the cosmos.

  Eventually, I developed my own theory of how it all works. Forge Theory, to be exact. I understand it better than any words can describe it because I learned to experience things beyond the third-dimensional reality that our minds are designed to comprehend. My biggest mistake was to try and make others understand what knowledge I had learned. The average person isn’t capable of understanding it if they choose not to. Or more to the point, if they only decide to pick and choose what teachings they want to learn. Only a handful of people could grasp it. A handful out of thousands.

  The Life Temple faith spread and evolved beyond my influence. Doctrine began to spread wildly, and soon my original teachings were either overly simplified or just taken too literally. Only a small number of followers remained loyal to my true message, and even the clergy of the new faith began to question my teachings. I eventually allowed myself to fall into relative obscurity in the hopes that I wouldn’t be worshipped, as some kind of ascended being or martyr. It did little to stop the rising tide of the human condition, however. I was venerated against my will, but it was too late for me to intervene.

  That’s when I stopped using my full name and asked to be referred to as ‘Val.’ I would live to see generations of people morph my teachings into something that no longer resembled my original texts. Even the modern versions of the Forge Theory texts are so watered down or devoid of context that it would seem alien to my original writings.

  The War Master Guild evolved from the original group of enlightened students that never strayed. An unfortunate event caused me to use my own DNA to save the lives of many of them. The unintended result is one of many genetically gifted offspring that is listening to these very words right now…”

  I blink. I’m awestruck. I’ve never been told the true origins of the Guild before. It was always something that only the fully indoctrinated War Masters or Zodiacs were taught. But here it is. Straight from the horse’s mouth!

  “I am the result?” I ask. “Or are you referring to my kind?”

  He smiles and nods. “Our kind, you mean to say.” It’s both an answer, and correction of terminology. “Those that received my genes only received fragments of it, and it took a few generations of their offspring before the abilities began to manifest. I began the War Master Guild as a means of balancing human nature. Part peaceful monk, and part warrior.”

  “So, by embracing all aspects of the human condition, one can learn to control it and achieve enlightenment?” I ask. I honestly don’t know. The higher truths of our faith and existence are a large part of the training I missed out on.

  “Yes and no.” He says. “The modern life Temple believes in total pacifism… Even in order to save the life of another by violent means is a sin, by their doctrine. But not mine, as it stands. It never was. When someone is capable of stopping a violent act to protect one’s self or another, then it’s not true violence. Failure to act is just as bad as committing the act yourself. I saw technology expand at a rapid pace, and the carnage of warfare grew to new levels of carnage never before seen. There’s no way to force humanity to end their capacity for war, but humanity can be influenced to limit their bloodshed to a certain degree. The Guild is intended to advise and inspire.” He explains.

  “But the Life Temple disagreed, didn’t they?” I ask rhetorically. The schism between the Guild and the Life Temple is a well-known part of our collective history.

  “Exactly.” He nods. “Especially after the advent of the Zodiacs.”

  “How did the Zodiacs come about?” I ask out of the blue. The question even startled me. Where the fuck did that come from?

  “In the early years of the Guild, I had to limit the training of War Masters. They had the potential for unbridled power, but they lacked the ability to control it. Only I could do it alone, but I don’t age, so I had time on my side… Not to mention, each War Master only has a portion of my genetic gifts flowing through them….

  One of the early War Masters went rogue. He succumbed to hubris and shunned any of my teachings that focused on restraint or patience. He set out on his own to unlock the true potential of my power, and in so he tried to weaponize it.

  He created a facility to experiment on predatory animals. His theory was to take the predatory instincts of big cats, K-9’s, and even bears, and then imbue my genetic gifts within them. He hoped to be able to strip away the humanity of it, or so we believe. Eventually, we tracked him down and discovered several breeding populations of these creatures. He dubbed his facility ‘The Zoo,’ and thus coined the term ‘Zodiac’ for the creatures within.

  My first instinct was to destroy them out of mercy, but then I discovered they had become fully sentient. Human DNA was added to their own, and amid other genetically engineered traits, many of the Zodiacs were geniuses. I couldn’t kill a sentient creature that never asked to be made. On my order, the Guild gave them sanctuary. It didn’t take long for benefits of their presence to manifest. We discovered the close bond that they could develop with their human counterparts, and thus I established a system of pairing them. It remains voluntary now, as it was back then. But many bloodlines of Zodiacs developed loyalties to the genealogies of humans. The close bond made their collective potential nearly limitless.

  Thus I began to work with Midas to unlock the full potential of both humans and Zodiacs. Together, they could handle the immense energies that give our kind are legendary powers. The rest is history.” He ended with a wink.

  I sit still for a few moments and let his words digest. I learned more in the last thirty minutes, than I have in thirty years. Even Marbles was sitting nearby in total fascination. Jimma sat quietly as well, and she stroked Grinder’s fur as he laid his massive girth on the deck plating.

  “So, what now?” I ask. “I have a broken part of me that I can’t seem to heal. I’m beginning to feel like I can heal it myself, but the more I explore the depths of my pain, the more hopeless it seems to be.”

  “You, my dear, are very unique.” He says. “You’re the first War Master Candidate in our history to have only completed most of your training, lived for decades without proper mentorship, and somehow didn’t destroy yourself.”

  I could shit myself right now. Is he implying I should have died? I feel a bead of sweat form on my brow. My pulse begins to quicken.

  “So, the others died?” I ask. I
strain to get the words out, but I had to know the truth.

  “Yes.” He says with a straight face.

  “Either they all were killed by wielding their powers before they fully understood them, or because their training temple was eliminated. Many of your classmates survived when your temple was attacked, and those who did were able to complete their training. You managed to live in isolation without killing yourself or someone else... by accident, of course. That’s never happened before. You’re – special – in that respect.”

  I go on to recount the capture of Trixie. I tell him about my struggles with Primal Rage, and how it scarred my soul before disappearing altogether. I didn’t notice the tears running down my face until I finished my tale.

  “It’s alright, my dear.” He says as he hugs me. He pulls back after several moments and then looks at me with compassionate eyes. “The Rage didn’t leave you. Nor did it scar you. It saved you from yourself.”

  My eyes went wide. “Saved me from myself?” I spout incredulously.

  “Yes.” He nods. “It never left you. It merely retreated itself out of your conscious reach until you were ready. You are very fortunate in that regard. Even Kaylen, the mightiest of all War Masters, succumbed to it. It ended his tenure in this existence as a result.”

  “It killed him, you mean?”

  “It did.”

  “And why am I different?” I ask. “Why didn’t it do the same for him?”

  “Because he knew what the end result would be. He embraced it. The Primal Rage knew it too, and he allowed himself to be consumed to preserve the life of others. He chose it. You didn’t. All too often the Rage becomes lethal. Not even I know why, exactly. You are among only a few that the Rage was able to sever itself from until the time was right.”

  I gasp. “So it’s not gone?”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “Not even close. It’s ever-present. It doesn’t exist in linear time, as we know it to be. Like our third dimensional energy, it cannot be created or destroyed. It has a complex consciousness that we are unable to fully grasp, and that’s why it can be the savior for some or the destroyer for others.”

 

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