Burden of Sisyphus bod-1

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Burden of Sisyphus bod-1 Page 7

by Jon Messenger


  Keryn would give anything to find that herself, especially the longer she spent as an outcast in the Academy. The constant mocking of Sasha and her friends was unbearable. Every day, it was a challenge not to drive her fist through the fragile Avalon’s face. Putting that behind her and being part of a greater good was just the escape Keryn wanted.

  She continued admiring the Cair even as Victoria went on to describe the weapons platform, a bulky contraption that consisted of little more than a cockpit, a single pilot, and a dozen massive plasma missile tubes ready to launch a devastating barrage against any Terran vessel unfortunate enough to get within range. Idly, Keryn switched her image back to the Cair ship, rotating it, drinking in the ship from all angles.

  “Finally,” Victoria said, finishing her talk about the weapons platform, “what most of you with real ambition truly desire-I give you the Alliance cruiser.”

  The image of the Cair faded from Keryn’s console, replaced by a dominating image of one of the Fleet’s main battleships. Zoomed out as it was, Keryn could hardly make out any details. Still, the cylindrical ship bristled with forward and aft missile ports and rail gun openings.

  “The Alliance cruiser serves every major purpose within the Fleet. Transport between galaxies, berth for squadrons, or devastating weapon system, the cruiser offers endless possibilities. Regardless of the ship you’re assigned, every one of you who graduates from this program will be assigned to a cruiser, either as a crewmember or part of the onboard squadron.

  “However, for those of you with the ambition to advance far within the Fleet, you’ll want assignment as part of a cruiser’s crew. The openings onboard a cruiser are nearly limitless for young pilots. In most instances, you’ll begin service as one of the navigation officers, piloting the unwieldy vessels. Eventual promotions include communications officer, tactical officer, and, eventually, captain of your own ship.”

  Victoria fell silent, as the class examined the cruiser, magnifying different aspects of the ship. Keryn spun it once absently, as she sought the hangar bay doors on the cruiser’s belly. Though she heard Victoria’s advice about the best advancement being through assignment on an Alliance cruiser, Keryn found the magnitude a bit daunting. Since she was from the small communities spread throughout the Wyndgaart home world, it was hard to imagine being responsible for so many lives.

  No, she thought. My comfort lies more within the confines of a team.

  If she had her way, she’d be a member of the squadron, her ship docked among the dozens of others within the hangar on the belly of the ship. Flipping back through the images, she once again let a Cair transport drift before her eyes.

  “All right.” Victoria’s voice broke the silence. “I want everyone to take a ten-minute break. Take this time to clear your mind of all the nonsense about specific ship assignments. When you return to this room, I’ll teach you the basics of three-dimensional combat. If your class is smart enough to pick up the basics, I’ll run you through a practical exercise before we end for the day. Be back here in ten minutes.”

  The students filed out the back, many excited conversations erupting long before they left the room. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Keryn found Iana behind her, her pale face flushed with barely concealed enthusiasm.

  “I’m going to be a Duun pilot,” she said bluntly. “To have that much power in my hands….” She gave an exhilarated sigh. “What about you? I have you pegged for cruiser all the way.”

  “I’m actually thinking of requesting a Cair assignment.”

  Iana was surprised. “Cair? Are you serious? Why not just ask for the weapons platform and be completely boring?”

  Keryn laughed. “There’s something indescribable about the thought of flying a Cair, to be part of a team, something that important.”

  “I’d start thinking a little smaller,” a familiar, annoying Avalon voice said.

  Both turned to find Sasha and her entourage eavesdropping. On Sasha’s arm, a muscular Uligart snickered.

  “Then again, I don’t really know if it’s possible to request to be a washout. Oh, well. The result will be the same.”

  Keryn scowled.

  Just one good punch, the Voice begged.

  “Get lost, Sasha.” Keryn’s enthusiasm quickly drained in the face of the arrogant Avalon.

  “Or what? You’ll prove that you really are a savage?”

  Iana tugged on Keryn’s sleeve. “She isn’t worth it, Keryn. Come on. Our ten minutes are almost up, anyway.”

  Frowning, her previous excitement replaced by irritation, Keryn entered the room and took her seat. Biting back tears of frustration, she blindly turned off the image of the Cair ship.

  “All right, Class,” Victoria said, as the others took their seats. “Now let’s talk tactics.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The team sat in the front row of the horseshoe-shaped set of chairs, searching for answers Vance didn’t have.

  “Sir, what the hell’s going on?” Yen asked. “You pulled us off leave right when we were getting settled on the beach.”

  “Four platoons?” Eza asked. “When have we ever had a mission that required so many supporting infantry?”

  “I’d love to give you the answers, Guys,” Vance replied, pacing before the seated team, “but I don’t know.”

  “Can’t you ask someone?” Nova asked, jerking her head toward the door behind her.

  “I know what you’re eluding to, Queen of Stealth, but Halo doesn’t know anymore than I do. She’s hearing a lot of chatter and a mobilizations of different units right now, but she can’t pinpoint a mission or destination.”

  “It’s something big,” Ainj said. “They wouldn’t have the whole warship up in arms otherwise.”

  “Just as long as we aren’t second fiddle to another unit.” Yen slouched farther into his padded chair. “I won’t serve as lackey to any door-kicking grunt.”

  Eza leaned over and said quietly, “We’re door-kicking grunts, Yen.”

  “You know what I mean!” Yen sat upright.

  “Settle down, all of you!” Vance yelled over the burgeoning argument between the two friends. “We’ll get answers soon enough once the infantry leadership and the captain arrive. Until then, keep yourselves occupied.”

  Eza leaned forward to see around Ainj, Nova, and the furry Tusque. Ixibas sat quietly near the end of the row. Without eyes, Eza couldn’t tell where he was looking.

  “Ixibas,” he hissed, trying to get the Lithid’s attention.

  When the featureless oval face turned toward him, he tried again.

  “Ixibas.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to…?”

  “No.” His gravelly voice echoed in the small room.

  “You didn’t let me finish. All I wanted to know was….”

  “No. I won’t give you the chance to finish whatever asinine idea you had, since it would only end up with all of us in trouble, standing before the captain, so, no.”

  “You really are a bore.” Eza sat back in a huff. “All I wanted to know is….”

  The back door opened, and nine infantry soldiers entered the room, deep in their own conversation. They wore pressed uniforms and highly shined boots that sparkled under the weak ceiling lights. Their appearance was immaculate compared to the more-slovenly covert operations team, many of whom wore personal modifications to their uniforms.

  The massive Oterian had long ago removed his sleeves, complaining that his muscular arms were too restricted by the fabric. Ixibas wore no uniform at all, settling for a single slash over his black exoskeleton.

  “Infantry,” Yen muttered. “Are they absolutely necessary for this mission? Word in the halls is that this is just a search, not even a smash-and-grab.”

  “Such animosity,” Eza whispered beside Yen.

  “I just don’t see why we need them working with us.” He continued to glower at the soldiers, as they walked down the aisle.

  “Need I remind you,” the Oter
ian’s voice rumbled behind Yen, “that every one of us was infantry before switching over to join the team?”

  “And every one of us got better,” Yen said coldly.

  Seeing the already-seated team, the infantry soldiers quieted and took their seats across the aisle. A couple of them remained standing and went to shake hands with Vance.

  “Magistrate Vance, it’s a pleasure to be working with you again,” said the only officer, a Uligart, extending his hand.

  Vance shook it firmly. “Magistrate Dallis. Are you in charge of the whole company now?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the four platoon leaders behind him. “Yes. The 2nd Infantry, 5th Fleet is my command. The Black Talons are the best, and I’m proud to be leading them.”

  “Second best.” Eza pointed at himself.

  “Sit down, Eza!” Vance snapped.

  Eza reluctantly took his seat, glowering at Dallis.

  “Who are your platoon leaders?” Vance asked.

  The four warrants surged forward, eager to meet the Pilgrim team leader. Though infantry and covert operations openly disliked each other, Vance’s team earned a reputation for being the best.

  Dallis introduced all four platoon leaders. “This is Warrant Harkund of First Platoon, Warrant Blythe of Second, Warrant Onclav of Third, and Warrant Decker of Fourth.”

  Vance was surprised to see that the fourth platoon leader was a fellow Pilgrim. The strong, muscular jawline, bright-blue eyes, and close-cropped blond hair showed obvious Terran lineage, but Warrant Decker carried himself with confidence among the other races.

  “Captain on deck!” an infantry soldier shouted, snapping to attention.

  Everyone copied him, clambering to their feet and standing at attention, as Captain Young walked down the center aisle.

  “Take your seats, Everyone.”

  The infantry sat as one, while the team members fell lazily back into their cushioned seats.

  “I’m sorry I had to call you back to the ship on short notice,” the captain began. “I received a message from High Council a few hours ago, giving us our next mission. This will be a large operation, requiring most of the assets onboard this ship.”

  Vance frowned. The High Council became involved only when the mission was of more political worth than tactical use. Chaired by senior military representatives from each of the major races-Avalon, Uligart, Wyndgaart, Pilgrim, Lithid, and Oterian-the High Council served as the commanding generals for the entire Alliance Infantry Force and Fleet. Cloaked in secrecy, the meeting hall of the command was unknown to anyone outside the group and their immediate assistants. Though some of the greatest technological advancements came from research conducted by the High Council, Vance distrusted any organization that worked so deep within the shadows and so far outside the boundaries of regular society.

  “Three days ago,” Captain Young continued, “the Alliance lost contact with its military outpost on Purseus II, built on the outskirts of the planet’s capital city. To date, we haven’t been able to reestablish contact with anyone within the city.”

  Turning, he activated the screen behind him. Images taken from orbit flickered across the screen, as he continued, “These were taken by an Alliance satellite in orbit around Purseus II. As you can see, the city seems completely intact, as does the military base beyond.”

  “I don’t see any people,” Vance said, pointing at the images passing by. “Vehicles still line the streets, but I don’t see a single person. They’re just empty.”

  “Anytime we lose contact with an entire city, it puts this command on edge,” Captain Young said. “I’m forced to wonder if the Terrans have gained access to a new biological or chemical weapon capable of decimating an entire city without causing major damage to the structures. That’s why I’m activating all of you for this mission.”

  He pulled the image back until the entire city was visible. Pressing a series of buttons on his console, he brought up blue pyramids south of the city, followed by a large blue arrow indicating the avenue of approach.

  “You’ll be dropped off outside the city. Your initial pass over it will allow you to detect any anomalies in the air that would cause us to lose contact. Once you’re ensured the atmosphere hasn’t been compromised, you’ll land here before entering the city along the main roadway.”

  He pointed to the blue triangles before tracing his finger along the blue arrow. “Magistrate Vance and his team will have the lead, as your units enter the city, supported by Magistrate Dallis and his four platoons.”

  “Sir.” Warrant Decker raised his hand. When recognized, he stood and said, “Warrant Adam Decker, Fourth Platoon leader. What can we expect on the planet? Are there any indigenous plant or animal life that could be a threat?”

  “The plants have all been categorized as deciduous. None of the plant life should pose a threat, though I don’t recommend ingesting anything you may find along the way. Animal life is minimal, though Purseus II has widely imported Seques for use in rural areas. As beasts of burden, they’re of little consequence.”

  “Natural population, Sir?” Eza asked from his seat. “Any people of note?”

  “None. Purseus II is little more than a stopover between well-established galaxies. The population is an amalgamation of all the major races. Its proximity to the Demilitarized Zone is the only thing that makes it of interest for a military outpost and causes our concern over losing contact.”

  Captain Young scanned the crowd. “If there are no more questions, this concludes our briefing. We’ll arrive within the week, so ensure your units are prepared. Thank you all.”

  As he stepped away from the podium, all the soldiers snapped to attention.

  “Carry on.” He walked out.

  Once the door closed firmly behind the captain, Eza swung his head around to look at Vance. “So, basically, we don’t know a damn thing, and they’d really appreciate it if we could tell them all about the planet once we get there.”

  “When is that any different from any other mission we’ve been on?” Yen, pushing past Eza, walked toward the door.

  “He actually told us that Seques might be encountered on the planet,” Ainj said, exasperated. “Seques are on every planet.”

  “You all complain more than anyone else I ever met,” Ixibas hissed, walking toward the door.

  The infantry soldiers intermingled with the team, as they filed from the room. Vance stayed behind to gather the last of his possessions. When the room was empty, he turned on the screen again and let the images of the city flicker across the display.

  “What do you think?” he asked the apparently empty room.

  “It doesn’t seem any more dangerous than any other mission you’ve been on,” Halo replied from the corner speakers. “No solid intelligence on the planet and no reason for lost communications, though, always makes me nervous.”

  “Did you know anything about the High Council messages the captain referred to?”

  Halo paused for a quick scan of transmission files. “There’s nothing logged from the High Council, but that doesn’t mean anything. As secretive as they are, they probably have a way to send a message straight to the captain while bypassing my security systems.”

  Vance remained silent, as more images scrolled by. “My gut tells me there’s more to this mission than meets the eye.”

  “I agree, and you have a visitor.”

  Vance turned to find Warrant Decker standing near the front row of seats.

  “Sorry to interrupt you, Sir,” Decker said. “I can return later, if you need more privacy.”

  “Nonsense.” He motioned Decker to join him near the screen.

  As they stood side-by-side, they studied each image, as it passed.

  “I take it you aren’t satisfied with the intelligence brief, either?” Vance asked.

  “I wouldn't say that. I just can’t help feeling there’s more to the mission.”

  “I know the feeling, Kid.”

  They watched
in silence, their sharp eyes drinking in the black-and-white photos of the cityscape. Many satellite pictures went by, as they sat without speaking.

  After nearly two dozen went by, Decker pointed. “There. Stop the image.” His index finger traced minute details of the city’s main avenue. “Halo, can you zoom in on the area I’m indicating?”

  “Of course.”

  The image magnified. Blockish buildings took shape. The glass-and-girder constructions grew into clearer definition. Decker’s eyes remained on the street.

  “Get us down to street level if you can,” Vance said, noticing what Decker saw.

  Eventually, the street image dominated the screen. Both Pilgrims stepped back to take in the full picture. Frowns etched on both faces, as they became worried.

  Along both sides of the street, a pixilated image showed a line of cars, all of which were damaged. Their roofs caved inward. Hoods buckled under a smashing force. Along the twisted hoods of many, dark-black smears spread from the car onto the ground in front of the hood.

  On the sidewalks, shattered glass twinkled in the picture, having been blown outward from the storefronts lining the street. Panning forward, they followed the line of parked cars, all of which were destroyed, and many of which held dark smears of what appeared to be blood.

  “Why would the High Council have missed such a telltale sign of danger?” Decker asked.

  “They wouldn’t.” Vance continued frowning. “Somehow, I think there’s more to this mission than what we’ve been briefed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The display on the desk before Keryn shifted, enlarging and expanding until a two-foot-wide sphere hovered above the table’s flat display. Lines of latitude and longitude encased the hollow sphere, crisscrossing like a fine gossamer web. Within the sphere, small pyramids appeared one in front of the other, hovering in eager anticipation of commands from the class’ instructor, as if frozen in never-ending pursuit.

  Victoria stood in the front of the room, a long, pen-shaped apparatus held in her hand. When she pressed a button on its side, a fine laser emerged, penetrating the identical sphere projected above the teacher’s desk. As the laser entered the sphere, it struck the front-most pyramid. With that under her control, she moved it slowly away from the focus of the sphere, drifting it toward the orb’s outer edge. In response, the rear pyramid gave chase, keeping an equal distance behind.

 

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