Wave Mandate

by Schneider, A. C.

  “Ashpan,” Cheserg called out from where he stood, alerting the focused interrogator to take notice. Ashpan turned to see Bar-Kas approaching. He released his subject’s face and stepped away in deference to his Second. Bar-Kas took up Ashpan’s place, leaning over and making eye contact with the man in the chair.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked soothingly. “Are you expecting me to step in? To help you? All you have to do is answer this man’s questions and all this will go away.”

  The man held Bar-Kas’ gaze but remained silent. He leveled a telling glance down to the medallion now dangling free from Bar-Kas’ neck. Bar-Kas followed the man’s gaze, saw what he was looking at and then returned to examining the stranger’s eyes more closely.

  “You recognize this?” he asked suspiciously, holding out the medallion so that it stood dead center between their two faces.

  Ashpan was watching the exchange half a step back. At that moment something clicked for him. “Hey, I remember you now! You were that uncooperative passenger from the Nebulous who wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. You’re the one we pulled the medallion off of!”

  Bar-Kas looked at Ashpan and then back to the stranger. He searched the man’s eyes for corroboration. What he found was fear, which in his mind was tantamount to a full blown confession. The matter of his brother’s blood honor was not yet finished! Grabbing his helpless victim by the throat and bringing the medallion closer for the man to see, he asked haltingly through clenched teeth, “Where-Did-You-Get-This?”

  The man could not answer. He could do nothing but choke. But Bar-Kas was beyond reason at this point, not letting up, squeezing harder and shoving the medallion into the man’s face. “Tell me where you got this? TELL ME!”

  No one in the room could move, the intensity of the moment freezing them in place, that is, except for one person. The scene so intense, no one noticed the unfamiliar Aberration walk up beside Bar-Kas until he unprecedentedly placed a firm, restraining hand on the Second Son, moving him out of the way while raising his other knife-wielding hand above his head and declaring, “I’ll handle this.”

  Bar-Kas was as dumbfounded as anyone else, his eyes wide with shock. Without thinking, he reached up, grabbing the raider’s knife hand by the wrist and restraining it just as it reached the peak of its climb, ready to be brought down for a killing stroke.

  “What are you doing, Aberration? Have you lost your mind!”

  The raider didn’t resist. Keeping his arm raised high and opening his hand so that the knife dropped into his other hand waiting below to catch it, he slashed at Bar-Kas’ prone forearm sleeve. The Second Son tried pulling away, but not before the raider managed to drop the knife behind him, reaching forward with both hands to rip the now dangling controller fully from Bar-Kas’ sleeve.

  The whole exchange lasted no longer than five seconds, Bar-Kas finally managed to break free, staring in disbelief at the place on his arm where the controller used to be, now nothing but a ragged hole in his suit. All Aberrations in the room had drawn in a sharp breath, yet to release it. Bar-Kas faced down his attacker. Fuming anger was met with a mischievous smirk, a teasing brandish of the controller and a wink for good measure.

  “GET HIM!”

  The entire room snapped into action, converging on the unknown offender like an imploding planet. The mysterious Aberration waited for them to close the distance. He then turned and leaped away, landing with one foot on the exposed part of seat between the thighs of the bound man in the chair, his back to his pursuers. Then, springing off the chair backward, he managed to avoid the murderous mass just as it closed in on him, twisting in the air in an apparent critical error that would have him landing directly on the heads of the expectant mob, but for a Rippler shield deploying from his arm, crushing the men below him as he rolled over them fully clear of the human cluster, an unhindered path to the exit splayed out before him.

  “PULSE HIM!” Bar-Kas screamed. Several Aberrations from the outer edge of the mass had just enough time to get off a single burst each, all deflected by the Rippler the intruder brought up behind him as he sprinted out the room, the mass stampeding after him like an angry herd, leaving only Bar-Kas, Cheserg and the bound man in the chair behind.

  <6 MINUTES, 20 SECONDS TO ZERO THRESHOLD>

  Bar-Kas’ anger simmered menacingly beneath the surface as he stood facing the now quiet entrance. The squad leader approached him cautiously. “Second, whoever that was now has your controller.”

  “I’m aware of that, Cheserg,” the thin veil of self-control keeping his anger at bay quivering with his tone.

  “He can seal us off, detonate the entire Habitat.”

  Icily, “Then I suggest you make your way over to the control room and disarm the system before he figures that out.” Turning his attention back to the bound stranger, Bar-Kas unsheathed his knife and started for him.

  “Second, your suit!”

  “What about it?”

  “The burst. You’ve got less than six minutes.”

  Bar-Kas looked at the gaping hole on his forearm, then back at the prisoner who was slumped over in his chair. It was unclear whether the man was even conscious. The Second continued making his way over to him.

  “Bar-Kas!” Cheserg nearly shouted fearing his leader had passed beyond the point of hearing.

  Upon reaching the prisoner Bar-Kas sheathed his knife, picked up the helmet from the floor and placed it on the bound man’s head, securing it to his suit. “He’ll keep,” he said flatly, and walked out of the room like there wasn’t a pressure burst threatening to turn him inside out.

  The squad leader sprinted for the control room. The Second Son went back to his quarters and put on a spare suit. He returned to find an overturned chair and cut-through ropes lying on the floor. Thinking back, he vaguely remembered the unknown Aberration dropping his knife in the fracas. It wasn’t anywhere on the floor now, and the prisoner was gone.

  Orisius

  “Thank you, Prophet,” Orisius transitioned from addressing the second consciousness in his head to the crew of his ship. “I assume you’ve all just received the same Prophecy I did.” His Academics were already facing him, their expressions bearing all the answer he needed. “There’s no way of knowing how long we have before a welcoming party will be in place to thwart our landing so the sooner we touchdown and secure our position the better. Wouldn’t you agree, Professor Jonas?”

  “Relaying the information to the Monitors now.”

  Halbard put in, “ETA to touchdown from current position, two minutes, Headmaster.”

  “Let us be underway then. Professor Jonas?”

  “Here we go.”

  Orisius watched the view outside the glass slow-roll away from space, diving downward toward Caras 4. The ship picked up speed, in no time, breaking atmosphere and plunging through an ominous cyclonic mass of grayish black cloud, punctuated by lightning flashes and blanketing the moon’s surface. Both the stubby looking Island Guard ships known as Monitors and the larger sleek cruiser were well-equipped for extreme flying conditions. Lightning strikes and pressure bursts were felt but mitigated by auto system adjustments. In the final approach, however, the need to navigate mountainous terrain amidst the swirling chaos called for an element of instinct no machine possessed, as well as a steadier hand than most that could only be honed by years of experience. Luckily, steady hands and instinct were things Academics excelled at.

  Halbard swiveled around to face Orisius. “Headmaster, we’ve got incoming communication from Commander Xervio.”

  “Predictable. Bring it up on the holostage, please.”

  The Professor swiveled back and a moment later both the above and below projector circles lit up, forming a ball of light on the holostage that again exploded before reconstituting itself into a completely lifelike hologram of the Island Guard Commander.

  “Yes, Commander?”

  “We’re following your approach in single file.”

  Unnecessary p
reamble and Orisius let him know it. “Of course you are. We have you monitored.”

  The Commander seemed a bit uncomfortable. Diplomacy wasn’t his strong suit. “Look, we only have about a minute thirty to touchdown so I don’t have time to massage egos.”

  An amused look spread across the Headmaster’s lips. “I assure you, Commander, our egos are in no need of any special treatment.”

  “Good. I understand why you have to lead the approach-”

  “Because we’re the only ones with exact directional guidance fed to us by our Prophets.”

  “Correct. But once we touchdown, I would have to insist you let me and my men disembark first and secure the area.”

  Valix piped up from his position, affronted. “We’re perfectly capable-”

  Orisius shut Valix down with an authoritative cease-and-desist gesture. Xervio had continued on anyway, despite the interruption. “Whatever your feelings are as far as this mission and revenge go, in combat you have to think tactically, and my men have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.”

  “On the contrary, Commander, I think it an excellent idea.”

  “Nothing personal.”

  Orisius tilted his head inquisitively. “I was under the impression you didn’t have time to massage egos, Commander?”

  Xervio cleared his throat. “Yes, of course,” he mumbled while turning away awkwardly. The communication cut out and the holostage fell empty.

  Plowing through the storm, managing the turbulence on the whole so that it was felt but did not disturb their course, Halbard announced the thirty second mark just as the cruiser began leveling off.

  “Now’s the time to hang on,” warned Jonas. The cruiser began a series of highly aggressive moves as it dropped below the ceiling of the range’s peaks, weaving through rocky canyons and craggy outcroppings at uncomfortable speeds. Unfortunately there was no other way to make their approach, not with the storm as powerful as it was and its gale force winds receiving a lethal magnification by way of wind-tunnel-effect inside the canyons.

  Jonas was completely focused when Halbard broke into his concentration. “Set up your hangar entry.”

  “I know.”

  “Be ready to hit that reverse throttle the second you clear the threshold.”

  “I KNOW!”

  “And don’t forget to break immediately to either side, making room for the Monitors behind us.”

  “… didn’t think of that.”

  “Hangar bay in sight,” announced Halbard. “Ten seconds.”

  The cruiser’s speed decreased abruptly, the influence of the outside storm increasing dramatically in tandem, and the Hangar’s mouth looming large before them, disproportionately so for such a small number of inhabitants, as was often the case with raider basses outfitted to dock hijacked vessels many times the size of their own ships. Despite its spaciousness, the cruiser was closing in on the Hangar entrance at far too high a velocity for Orisius’ tastes, but he didn’t second guess Jonas’ flying. An effective Headmaster has no choice but to sometimes trust entirely in his Faculty, in this case, trust well placed.

  The moment they crossed the threshold Jonas hit reverse thrusters and pulled hard right. The Headmaster felt his body lurch forward while outside the hangar could be seen tilting sharply. Immediately afterward a Monitor flew in to the exact spot where the cruiser entered seconds earlier, pulling off to the left. Two more Monitors repeated the process one after the other, each managing to avoid their mission counterparts despite extreme speed adjustments and close quarter restriction on maneuverability.

  The three Monitors found enough open tarmac around the four other ships already docked in the hangar for landing. The cruiser, which was larger than any of the other ships, was able to perch itself above the three smaller Life Pods. Once on the ground, the younger Academics hurriedly exited their individual cockpits and double-timed it to the prep room. Orisius lagged behind, keeping to a brisk walking pace. Jonas and Halbard joined him at his side.

  “Commendable flying, Jonas,” praised Halbard.

  “Indeed,” added the Headmaster.

  “Thank you. I had more practice than I’d like to remember over the last two years.” They walked on. Halbard was his usual tight-lipped self. Jonas was also quiet but restless, and Orisius picked up on it.

  “Ask.”

  Jonas knew he should no longer be surprised at his mentor’s ability to read people, but it still left him with a sense of wonderment every time. “Why did you give in to Xervio’s insistence that we remain behind.”

  “It’s never wise to walk into a battle blind, Jonas, especially if you don’t have to. Xervio made it so that we don’t have to.”

  “But if it’s dangerous, why not stop him?”

  “Xervio’s an experienced Commander; he doesn’t need me to hold his hand. Besides, I doubt he’d listen even if I tried. Any attempt to deter him would only serve to strengthen his stubborn resolve… Guard!” This last term was uttered derisively.

  They reached the prep room and Orisius added as they entered, “He’s brave, though, I’ll give him that. But for all the Commander’s lecturing earlier about emotions and tactics, he’s failed to recognize that bravery too is often a most formidable enemy of tactics. It would do you well to remember it, Jonas.”

  The other Academics were already inside the prep room. They’d all suited up while in orbit, waiting for the Prophecy to give them the go-ahead to land. Now they were waiting again for the all-clear from Xervio and his men to exit the cruiser and claim their revenge. It was a trend of deferring initiative to others that didn’t sit well with Valix. “One of us is worth all of them, and then some. How long do they expect us to wait here?”

  “Patience, Teacher Valix,” instructed Orisius. “Every main act has its opening scenes before taking to the stage. Right now I suggest we don our helmets and follow the progress of our friends outside.”

  They did as Orisius advised, synching their comm links to the Live feed of the Anit-Raider Units so they could watch events unfolding on the heads up displays (HUDs) of their face masks, cycling though first person perspectives of what each Island Guardsman was seeing outside. The view automatically adjusted from single perspective to several, depending on what the action on the ground dictated.

  Orisius’ HUD flickered to life and suddenly he was many Guardsmen fanning out across the hangar in efficient silence, running a quick sweep of every nook, every corner, securing the operational area.

  “Status?” he heard Xervio ask through the comm.

  “North sector, clear.”

  “East sector, clear.”

  Pause.

  “Elden?”

  “Just a second, Commander… OK, all’s clear on my side.”

  “Alright, Headmaster. You reading this?”

  “Yes, Commander. We’re coming down.”

  Kelerin and Valix didn’t need any more invitation than that. They moved toward the hull entrance, but before they could palm the access panel another voice from the Guard team cut into their comm sets.

  “SOUTH SECTOR, WE GOT MOVEMENT!”

  The Academics froze in place and watched as every thumbnail view screen on the side of their HUDs turned to face the same direction. They were looking at the first module, the entrance to the access tunnel leading out of the hangar and into the Habitat. A lone figure in an Aberration pressure suit was running down the tunnel toward the teams at top speed, waving his arms frantically like he was trying to get their attention. It was an odd sight. A lone man running like a maniac wasn’t the kind of sophisticated attack the Academics had come to expect from Aberrations given their reputation. Apparently Xervio had a similar thought.

  “3rd team, cover our rear. It could be a distraction tactic. Maybe we missed something in our sweep. 1st and 2nd teams, take him out.”

  Ten Guardsmen took aim at the incoming threat. The raider seemed to register what was about to happen because he dropped his waving arms for a brief moment
before bringing them up again in a defensive posture, as if he thought he could stop Pulse burst with nothing but his forearms.

  “It’s Dunner!” Orisius heard Kelerin say softly, voicing an inner realization just dawning on him. The idea made sense to the Headmaster, but unfortunately the Guardsmen either hadn’t heard or hadn’t registered the significance of the name, focused as they were on the target ahead. Xervio gave the order.

  “Engage!”

  Ten streams of Pulse burst slammed into the charging Aberration and promptly ricocheted off his person to all sides. His advance slowed significantly but he kept coming. The Guardsmen were baffled while every Academic knew then and there Kelerin had been right.

  Orisius called over the comm, “Hold your burst! HOLD YOUR BURST!”

  Xervio heard the Headmaster through the commotion and picked up the call. “Hold your burst! All Guard, hold your burst!” The streams cut out. Still training his weapon on the target, he asked, “What’s this about, Headmaster?”

  “He’s one of ours. He’s our man inside.”

  “You’re sure?

  “Ever hear of raiders carrying around Ripplers before? Trust me, he’s ours.”

  “Where’s the coordination? We could’ve killed him!”

  “He’s an Academic, Xervio. No - you couldn’t have.”

  Kelerin said, “I’m going down to him.”

  “No you’re not!” snapped Orisius.

  “Why? Dunner’s down there. What’re we waiting for?”

  The Headmaster didn’t answer. He watched intently from his HUD as Dunner picked up the pace again and crossed the threshold into the hangar, returning to waving his arms urgently and close enough now that they could hear him screaming something. Orisius strained to hear through his comm but his Prophet broke into his efforts: “Get those Guardsmen back into their ships.”

  One of Xervio’s men asked over the comm, “What’s he yelling about?”

  Dunner came closer and they could just make out what he was screaming: “...is coming! Get back to your ships! A pressure burst is coming!”

  <30 SECONDS TO ZERO THRESHOLD>