THE VROL TRILOGY

by SK Benton

  "President Bierle, you have a big day tomorrow. You'll be going through phase 2 control training, and then some advanced sword skills with Ohiro," said Max, nodding over to Janice and Ohiro, who were nuzzling while whispering in Japanese. They both heard their names and looked up with inquisitive expressions.

  "I understand Mr. Ohiro trains in the way of the sword, but who shall be in charge of my phase 2 control training, as you call it? And of what does it consist?" asked Bierle.

  "That would be me," said Clarisa, "and I will assist you I your efforts to wantonly enter into your battle state, while maintaining your wits. It really is not a difficult thing, Mr. President." She had taken over the temporary duties after having proven to be an expert at enhanced lycan skills control and, of course, being a university professor. Her methodology was effective and, fortunately, not as brutal as that of the previous instructor, the traitorous Alea.

  ###

  The following morning Jorgen Bierle woke up with a slight hangover. Reaching over to his bedside table, he downed the glass of water Draagh had given him the night before as a precaution. To his amazement all ill feelings instantly disappeared.

  Hmm, I believe there could be a market for this concoction.

  Climbing out of bed, he walked over to the washbasin, and what he saw in the mirror shocked him. He looked at least ten years younger, if not more. His body fat had shrunk away and as he thought about it, he felt a hell of a lot better. He quickly washed his face and underarms, thinking he would take a shower after eating, and leaped to his bed in a single bound. Totally surprised at his increased strength and agility, he quickly dressed and exited his quarters. As soon as he entered the hallway he could smell things - and nothing non-descript. Everything had a picture to it in his head. He saw roasted sausages as he smelled them. He visualized a cat in the ventilation shaft. Moments later he detected Liliana from behind, as she attempted to surprise him.

  "Ah-HA! You can fool me no longer, young one!" he yelled as he spun around, but not seeing her anywhere. Slightly confused, it took him a moment to turn his gaze upward and see her standing, upside-down, on the ceiling. She was looking at him with crossed arms and a smirk on her face.

  "Scheiße! [Shit!]"

  "You are getting close, Mr. President. Would you like to join me for breakfast?" she asked with a giggle.

  Bierle nodded his head slightly and said, "It would be my honor, Miss Gunnarsson. But may I ask, how are you doing that?"

  "A simple reverse-gravity cantus. Would you like to try?"

  "Perhaps later, my dear. Shall we repair to the dining hall?"

  The two walked down the hallway, with Liliana releasing her cantus and lithely dropping to the floor after a few steps. They then took a left and bounded down the stairs directly to the main dining hall, where Max and Jennie were already seated and waiting.

  "Good morning Mr. President. I must say you are looking quite fit today," said Jennie, while wearing a kind grin.

  Max nodded curtly to his new political leader and held out a hand, beckoning him to take a seat.

  "Please, President Bierle, have a seat. Breakfast is about to be served."

  "Thank you, Captain. I must say, I feel extremely… belebt… invigorated, today."

  "No small wonder, sir. You've completed the reactivation of your lycan genome, so it's completely natural," said Jennie. "The same thing happened to my brother after we rescued him from his prison apartment."

  "So he really was held as a prisoner in his own home," he responded rhetorically.

  "That is true, Mr. President," boomed Bagatelle, as he entered the dining hall with his fiancé, Alicia.

  Bierle looked over, almost startled by the fleet admiral's response, but knew he should have expected more from the leader of Azul's naval presence.

  Bierle stood up in deference to the admiral and nodded curtly as he took a seat. Thinking momentarily, he decided to ask some questions he previously hadn't the time to ask.

  "Admiral, good morning. I would like to inquire about your house arrest. I have some details, but were you truly imprisoned on false charges?"

  Bagatelle gave Bierle an odd stare for a moment, and then responded, "Were you not paying attention when Tech Olsen made his statement?"

  "Well, yes, I was… but I…"

  "Then you should remember what you heard. I expect more from our President."

  Bagatelle's statement was harsh, and meant to be so. Liliana nodded her head in agreement, only to have Jennie's hand redirect the girl's face to her breakfast.

  "Admiral, what I believe the President needs to hear is a direct account from you. Not because he doesn’t believe, but to solidify his knowledge of Johnson's true nature," said Max, in between mouthfuls of sausage.

  Bagatelle nodded his head and then gave Bierle a stern glance, meant to invite him to agree. The President did so, and Bagatelle took a seat, with Alicia at his side, and began to recount the story of his travels from Earth and his consequent arrest by Johnson.

  "So, you actually encountered an alien race?" asked Bierle.

  "An alien species, sir. More profound, to say the least."

  "That's astounding," Bierle responded to Bagatelle. "All evidence of your travels was made off-limits upon your arrest, I'm sorry to say."

  "Of course, my good man. They feared the truth. However, I believe we can provide some footage of the K'Long'nesh," Draagh interrupted as he sat down at the long wooden table. Then, casually waving his hand, he created an infoscreen that showed the oddly shaped creatures as they skittled around their town.

  "Um, so they're real?" queried Bierle.

  "They are, indeed," responded Bagatelle, having a bit of annoyance to his voice. He had tired of answering questions multiple times.

  "Mr. President," replied Max, "do you not recall how Admiral Bagatelle was repeatedly tortured for information?"

  "Yes, I am sorry. I shall cease with any and all questions regarding the veracity of your travels, Admiral."

  "Good. It's about time. Plus you need to get over to Clarisa. She's waiting for you," said Bagatelle.

  "I must admit, I am a bit nervous regarding this new training. We are all conceptually familiar with things such as swords, but to access skills long-ago locked away from men - that is on a completely different level," said Bierle.

  "You have nothing to fear. Anyway, it can't be worse than the way I was trained," explained Max.

  "Oh? And how was that, Captain?"

  "I was repeatedly punched in the face."

  ###

  Jorgen Bierle entered into the small room where Clarisa and Janice were waiting. Neither said anything, and Janice merely gestured to the man to take a seat in the lone chair in the middle of the room. Bierle became mildly concerned when Janice strapped his arms down, restricting his ability to get up. She then followed up with ankle cuffs.

  "Good morning, Mr. President. As you are aware, I am to assist you in mastering your phase 2 transformation, also known as battle form. This can be quick and simple, or it can become an arduous task. It is all up to you. Please look at the wall. Max prepared a vid for your viewing pleasure," said the beautiful lycan mother of Max. Gunnarsson.

  Bierle looked at the wall and was surprised to see a vid start to play with the clarity and quality of any on Azul. He knew from his prior lessons that the vid could have only been created via magic in his current world, making it all that much more impressive. Comically, Max appeared on the screen as the narrator. Jennie had prompted him to do that, feeling it would eventually help him to be a better public speaker. Bierle watched as Max discussed the pros and cons of transition to phase 2 - increased strength, slightly longer reach/limbs, hyper-enhanced senses and elongated canines, as well as a massive increase in caloric burn. The secret to going to phase 2, Max explained, was all mental. It was an act of pure willpower. He also went on to say that if one was unable to voluntarily enter into phase 2, he or she would then have to be goaded into the state - usually via a form of
pain. For him it was getting beaten. Severely. As Bierle watched the video he became determined to avoid being beaten at all costs. Following Max's video instructions, he concentrated, trying to well up a feeling similar to a pang of regret deep from within his gut. That was the best way Max could describe the method for accessing the battle state. In a matter of moments, Bierle felt a burning sensation in his arms, all the way down to his fingernails as they elongated. Something reminiscent of a toothache struck his mouth as his canines grew to sharp points. The increase in body hair was more of a ticklish sensation, as follicles pushed out through his skin. It was less than a minute and he had voluntarily transformed to phase 2, without any sort of violent repercussions.

  "Excellent work, Mr. President!" exclaimed Janice, watching Azul's leader as he easily changed. She noticed he started to look weary, which was a result of burning up his energy reserves. Clarisa quickly put a straw up to his mouth. It was a glass of a milky substance - the nutritional shake, meant to force a massive amount of calories into his system and avoid an energy crash. He hungrily sucked it down, feeling the nutrients course through his system.

  "Jorgen, now that you are in battle state, I want you to concentrate on your upper-left peripheral vision. Do you see colored lines?" asked Clarisa.

  "Mmm, yes. What are they?"

  "They are your levels. One is health, another strength and the bottom one your stamina. You'll be able to see these while in your day form also, now that you have unlocked them."

  "Impressive, Mr. President! And we didn't even have to beat you like a rag doll," Janice joked.

  "Well, that's certainly a relief. What more do I need to learn?"

  "As long as you can maintain this state and not go bonkers we should be good after today. However, we'll need to stress-test you," said Clarisa.

  "Stress-test?"

  "Um yeah. Well, you know how Janice said we didn't even need to hit you?"

  "Yes?"

  "She lied. Sorry."

  Clarisa punched Bierle directly in the nose, causing blood to spurt out all over his tunic. His face contorted into a visage of primal rage as he struggled against his bonds.

  "Jorgen! Control yourself. Maintain your wits. The sooner we get through this and you have control, the sooner you are finished with the training."

  "Ooo, I think he's gonna pop, sister," said Janice, while she watched Bierle try to calm himself.

  Clarisa slapped him across the face three times, but noted he was still coming down. They both felt badly for having lied to him, but they needed him to be unaware of what was to come for the best results to his training.

  "I'm good. I'm in control, ladies," he said.

  Janice grabbed another energy shake and put the straw up to his mouth. Calmly taking down the liquid, he had nearly reached a state of complete serenity.

  "Max, this guy is extremely good at battle form. 30 minutes and he's gone through an entire day's lessons."

  "No way! Well, he did seem to take it all very well. Let's get him to Ohiro for some sword training, and then we can start working on strategies to fight the Vrol."

  "Mr. President, congratulations. I just spoke to the captain, and he says you have graduated to the next level of training. Please revert back to phase 1, your day form, and we'll get you over to Ohiro to work with swords," said Clarisa.

  Chapter 25 - Reality Lessons

  Night had fallen in the Rhönen Dominion, and the Gunnarsson clan was seated for dinner. At their table was Jorgen Bierle, who had never felt such camaraderie before in his entire life. He was a politician, and politics was a cruel game of deceit and power grabbing, but he had no such need to play that game with the Gunnarssons and their odd, eclectic group. Seated at the end of the long, wooden table in the main dining hall, he listened as Draagh discussed his concern regarding whom he believed to be assisting the Vrol - the Grigori.

  "I have some ideas as to their whereabouts, yes, I do, but it shall prove to be a vexing task. Perhaps nearly as difficult as it was to locate young Max. It is most certain they are looking for me, but if we were to send my sons out… that may give us an advantage."

  Michael and Gabriel both nodded their heads and looked at each other with smirks on their faces. Since their involuntary reunion they had become as they once were - a deadly team that got results, no matter the mission.

  "Is there some way I can help too?" asked Max.

  "No way! You are not going to look for any psycho archangels, baby. You're staying right here with me," commanded Jennie.

  Max grinned and leaned up against his devastatingly beautiful wife, not really wishing to leave in any case.

  "Max, I have a feeling the Grigori know of you, being as you are from the world they are attempting to help to destroy. It would be best for you to remain here, my son," said Michael.

  "Okay, Pops. I'll keep myself busy with President Bierle and business on Azul."

  "So you say that these Grigori are archangels, yet I heard you also say they are Prīmulī. Which are they, Mr. Draagh?" queried Bierle.

  "Mmm, why, they are both, of course! You see, the term archangel merely refers to a profession; a job description, if you will. Technically, my sons are both Prīmulī, as well as Max here. However, Max is a bit different, having his mother's lycan genetics intermixed into his genome. For this reason he is called the Hybrid, and shall prove to be quite dangerous to the enemies of Mankind."

  "Aw man, I'm not all that, you know," Max said with a blush.

  "Baby, you're dangerous in more ways than one," Jennie cooed.

  "TMI! Oh. My. God! TMI!" yelped Liliana, fully understanding the meaning of her mother's sentence. Jennie reached her hand over and gently turned Liliana's head to her plate of venison and mashed potatoes, while trying to hide her embarrassed expression.

  Everyone at the table stifled their laughter, with the exception of Michael and Gabriel, who failed to find any humor in Liliana's outburst. Their millennia of existence had pretty much jaded them to anything remotely sexual. They had both seen - and experienced - things beyond the imaginations of the majority of their tablemates.

  "Father, do you believe that the Grigori have ensconced themselves in the Hub?" asked Michael, having a touch of concern to his voice.

  "No, my boy, I do not believe so. They would be too easy to locate if that were the case. However, I do believe they may be using the Hub as a relay for their nefarious activities. We should set up some surveillance, calculating the most likely location of the Vrol fleet from where it was last seen, while paying careful attention to any communications emanating from the Hub in general. One thing is certain - they are not currently residing in the Milky Way Galaxy."

  "Huh? They could be operating from a different galaxy?" cried out Jennie. Being an educated person, she was well aware of the vast distances between star groups. Humanity, with its current and infantile grasp of faster-than-light travel, would never be able to travel from one end of the Milky Way to the other without having spent thousands of years in transit. So going to another galaxy was unimaginable - except to a Primulus who could command the powers of space/time, and transfer via the Hub.

  "You know, when this is all done I'd like to visit some other galaxies," said Max. "Jen, you can come along too, of course. There's so much out there, and we pretty much have forever."

  "Oh, I'll go along, but remember sweetie - you have forever. I have a long time, but lycans aren't technically immortal - just long-lived."

  She brought up an uncomfortable subject that neither had addressed. Max was not only lycan, but also one of the Prīmulī, and that particular component in his genome made him immortal. In fact, had he never encountered his grandfather and activated his lycan genetics he would have still lived forever, most probably without an understanding of why he would never die. However, that was not the case, and he would easily outlive his gorgeous wife. This realization caused a sharp pain to invade his gut, so he put his arm around her, holding her tightly. Unfortunately, this ve
rbalization also affected Clarisa, and Max noticed his parents both become unusually agitated for a moment.

  "No, love. We live together and die together. That's how it is. Without you my life is over," he whispered caringly into her ear. Jennie knew he was serious, but she was also a logical woman, so she just patted him on the thigh and let the conversation take over.

  "So, to go on - they could be residing any place in the universe, but they are old thinkers. It is my belief they are in a local sub-galactic group, such as one of the Magellanic Clouds," Draagh stated.

  "Well, we should begin there. Once in their galactic vicinity we should be able to detect their presence," said Gabriel, who had been relaxing comfortably with his consort, Jessica. Jennie's statement about immortality didn't even affect her. She lived for the moment and was simply glad to be along on such an adventure.

  Jennie looked to her left and pulled Liliana's face out of her mashed potatoes, the child snoring languidly. "Well, it's time to put this one to bed. Max can you slip her upstairs, please?"

  "Sure," he laughed, as he picked up his precocious daughter and disappeared with a light popping sound. The sound wasn't caused by his local slip, per se. Rather, it was the sound of air filling in the space where he body had been mere microseconds earlier. Likewise, when someone slipped into a location there was a similar, yet slightly different sound, more reminiscent of a woosh, caused by the newly-arrived body pushing air out and occupying space.