the warning blared throughout the hangar.
“Headmaster, NOW!” his Prophet shouted.
Calmly, but with a clear emphasis on urgency, Orisius called over the comm, “Commander, get your men back into their ships. Pressure burst is building. You got 30 seconds!”
Xervio’s urging was far less subdued. “BACK TO THE MONITORS, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!”
It was at that point that the first Pulse burst of the battle dropped the first Guardsman. Xervio looked from his downed man to where the burst had come from, back in the direction of the access tunnel. A dozen or so Aberrations were charging along the path, levying streams of burst at the retreating Guardsmen. Dunner spun to return a Pulse stream of his own from behind the cover of his Rippler, dropping a raider, the rest diving for cover and beginning to advance more carefully. Guardsmen fell scrambling to get back to their ships. Xervio turned to help Dunner, providing his own stream of suppressing Pulse burst.
<15 SECONDS TO ZERO THRESHOLD>
“Get back to your ship, Commander!” ordered Orisius, seeing what was going on from his HUD. Xervio ignored him. He looked over and registered Dunner’s heavy-duty pressure suit. He was all too aware that his wouldn’t measure up. Continuing to provide cover burst with his right hand, he reached with his left to open a compartment on his gear belt and pulled out a disposable Slingshot booster.
<10 SECONDS TO ZERO THRESHOLD>
“It won’t be enough, Commander,” called Orisius from over the comm, seeing what Xervio was planning on doing.
Placing the booster between his teeth, Xervio bent down to the first fallen Guardsman next to him and found that man’s spare booster in his gear belt, as well.
“Two boosters can kill him!” exclaimed Jonas.
“The pressure burst will definitely kill him,” countered Orisius. “It’s his only chance now.”
<5 SECONDS TO ZERO THRESHOLD>
Placing the second booster next to the first and biting down, Xervio pulled at the packaging with his free hand, tearing off both at once, all the while continuing to Pulse at the incoming Aberrations.
<3>
Jamming both boosters into his neck simultaneously, he exhaled till his lungs were completely empty, dropped to the floor and curled into a tight ball.
<2>
Orisius knew Xervio’s lungs were crying for air. He knew that with a double dose of Slingshot booster Xervio’s organs and blood were solidifying to dangerous levels of rigidity. He knew the pain Xervio must be experiencing was enormous. He also knew it was only just beginning.
<1>
The pressure burst washed over the Habitat, expanding the little air remaining in Xervio’s lungs against the booster-influenced, elastic nature of his innards. Xervio didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t. There was no breath left in him. The view from his HUD shook violently as his body went into spasmodic shock.
The burst passed. Orisius turned to his Academics, who were looking at him expectantly.
“NOW!”
The door to the cruiser opened and four Academics leaped out, Wave Whips activated, distorted air trails flowing after them. Orisius remained behind in the cruiser. He closed his eyes in concentration.
“Headmaster,” His Prophet called, “I feel something strange… Are we going to be engaging the enemy?”
He didn’t answer.
“Headmaster, I think there might be someone there with you. I’m getting interference with your Wave pattern.
Still no answer.
“Headmaster? Can you hear me? I think I’m being pushed ou-”
Orisius’ eyes opened. The time for vengeance had come.
Kelerin
Like the attackers he faced at the Academy, these were not your typical raiders. They were better, by far, with no letup in their Pulse streams and never missing a target or opportunity. They presented an even match for the Guard’s Anti-Raider Units, but Kelerin was no Guardsman, he was an Academic.
Bolting across the tarmac, sliding on knees beneath cross burst volleys saturating the space between Aberration and Guardsman, deflecting the occasional Pulse with his Rippler when necessary, he made it to the collapsed Xervio. The Commander’s body looked intact, a good sign. Still, two boosters followed by a pressure burst, it’d be a miracle if he survived.
“Commander? Commander, can you hear me?”
“KELERIN!”
He sensed the attack immediately, didn’t even have to look up. A crack of his Whip to the left, followed by a flick of his wrist to the right. Without checking he knew one Aberration had a split torso, the other was missing a head. Still focusing on Xervio, he sheathed his Whip to free up both his hands.
“Is that smart?” he heard Analel ask. The answer was ‘No’, but he ignored her concern and gently, carefully, turned the Commander’s body over. Xervio’s facemask was fogged over, forcing him to open it up for a prognosis. What he discovered was severe trauma; thin streams of blood flowing from the eyes, ears and nose, sucking in air with quick, short breaths, shaking all over - but alive.
Kelerin grasped both sides of Xervio’s helmet and tried to meet his eyes. They were glazed over, staring out at nothing. “Commander, can you hear me?” His eyes focused, breathing slowed. He hears me. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Behind you!”
Even as he spun and grabbed for his Wave Whip, Kelerin knew it was the wrong move. Should’ve gone for his Rippler - defense before offense - a Second Year Student mistake and possibly his last. As he turned, hand gripping over his shoulder, ready to unsheathe and banking on the faintest hope that his enemy would make a mistake himself, a Pulse burst came from behind him, carving out a hole in his would-be executioner’s chest, sending the Aberration flying backward to the floor. Still in shock, he looked back to find Xervio struggling to hold his Pulser steady in an outstretched arm.
Smiling with relief, Kelerin declared, “I think you’re going to be alright, Commander.” Then, into his comm, “I need two Guardsmen here for immediate extract of Commander Xervio.” He heard some back and forth Guard jargon and it wasn’t long before backup arrived. Following closely behind them was that odd Aberration who started this whole thing off. Kelerin stood and bear hugged his lifelong friend.
“Kel! You’re alive!” exclaimed Dunner, arching back and lifting Kelerin up in his embrace, oblivious to the Pulse burst flying all around them.
“Kelerin, I know this is a happy moment for the two of you, but please take cover before you get yourselves killed.”
“Yes, Analel.”
“Excuse me?” asked Dunner.
“Nothing. My Prophet wants us to take cover.”
“I know. Mine’s such a nag too. So, how’ve you been?”
“Oh, ya know. Blown up, got raided, mourned a friend. Yourself?”
“Let’s see; played dead, stole some psycho’s sleeve, also mourned a friend.”
“Not a contest, Dunner.”
“Ha! Good to see you again, brother.”
Valix cut in over the comm. “Hey Kelerin, caught that rookie mistake back there. Had to be saved by a half dead Guardsman. Why not stop embarrassing the Academy and help out a bit? There’s still Aberrations need dealing with.”
“I was saving Xervio’s life, Valix.”
“They brought Valix?” asked Dunner, surprised. Kelerin nodded. “Trash,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
It was Jonas’ voice cutting in over the comm that brought the three back to the task at hand. “Quit acting like Students. We’re in the middle of a skirmish, for Creator’s sake.”
“That’s what I was telling Kelerin, Professor.”
“Drop it, Valix. Do any of you have the Headmaster’s feed? Halbard says the Prophecy lost contact with him and I can’t get him to respond on the comm.”
Kelerin checked his HUD. “Not on my feed.”
“Me neither,” threw in Valix.
“What is it?” asked Dunner, not on the same comm frequency as the rest and therefore not
in the loop.
“No one knows where the Headmaster is,” explained Kelerin.
“I saw him.”
“Where?”
“He went inside,” Dunner indicated the access tunnel leading deeper into the Habitat itself. “Took out four Aberrations like it was nothing on his way. Learned more watching him for five seconds than I’ve learned this entire year.”
Kelerin spoke into his comm. “Dunner has a lead on the Headmaster. I’d like to follow up.”
“Keep us apprised,” ordered Jonas. “We’ll finish up here.”
Kelerin turned to Dunner. “We’re going after him.”
Reactivating his Rippler, Dunner said, “You cover left, I’ll take right.”
Kelerin’s Rippler hummed to life as well. “After you.”
The pair stood from their crouch and dashed across the tarmac to the access tunnel. All pockets of fighting had migrated to various other parts of the Hangar but the two still had to deflect the occasional burst sent their way by opportunistic Aberrations thinking they might be able to score a hit while their targets were distracted. Their Prophets’ job being to keep an eye on the bigger picture so that their Academics could afford the luxury of a singular focus, ensured all such attempts ultimately failed.
Inside the tunnel they continued running till they came to a fork branching out into two separate modular paths.
“Ok, Analel, what do you see?”
“First name basis?” asked Dunner, intrigued.
Kelerin shot Dunner a defensive look that quickly melted into one of resignation. “We have this connection… it’s complicated. No snide remarks, alright?”
“Hey, my Prophet and I share our own special connection - she wants me dead - so I totally get it.”
Kelerin rolled his eyes and waited for Analel to finish probing the rest of the Habitat. It didn’t take long. “The surrounding rock is blocking my real Sight so I can only pick up Wave patterns, but they’re pretty clear. What I see are three patterns veering off toward the left and one toward the right. What I can’t see is if this fork is the point where the paths for the one and the three diverge or whether there’s another fork up ahead.”
Kelerin conferred with Dunner, “I got three patterns to the left, one to the right. What does your Prophet see?”‘
“Same. I think it’s safe to say the one is the Headmaster and the three are Aberrations; two senior, one grunt.”
“That’s pretty specific of you.”
“Earlier I found the whole lot of them having a torture party down that way. They were working somebody over pretty bad, probably one of their own who stepped out of line.”
“Fine. Let’s work off that assumption. I’ll take the seniors. You find the Headmaster.”
“Wait. Why do you get the seniors?”
“Cuz I got the Whip.”
“Riiight, gotta get me one of those. I suppose I can use the alone time with the old man to see if he’ll show me some of those moves he used to take out those four Aberrations earlier.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Yup.”
They split up. Kelerin darted down the left hand offshoot following Analel’s directional sense and Dunner took the path to the right. Making his way along at a brisk jog, Kelerin passed several closed off rooms and one open module with nothing in it but an overturned chair at its center, all of which he ignored. The patterns he sought were further up ahead. Soon he came to a four-way juncture presenting a new dilemma. The Habitat was obviously more complex than their intelligence originally thought. From the feeling he was getting from Analel’s Sight it was doubtful Dunner broke off at the correct fork. But there was no time to go back now and let him know. Dunner and his Prophet would have to figure it out on their own. In the meantime, he could also feel that he was getting closer. Choosing the leftmost path, he unsheathed his Wave Whip and quickened his pace.
After a minute or two of cautious advance he started to hear voices coming from the next module over. There was an argument in progress. This was it. If everything went well, he figured he should be able to catch the Aberrations off guard. Twisting the top of his Whip, a translucent tail spilling out its spout onto the floor at his feet, small movements of his wrist keeping the subatomic stream in control, his mind calming to match its flow - he was ready. But then he peered around the corner, and all his preparation fell apart.
The large module was some sort of power station. Parallel walkways lined with piping made up its interior. A generator at the back fed into the pipes and supplied a steady din of white, background noise, probably the reason he didn’t recognize at least one of the voices at first. Standing at the far end of the first walkway was the Headmaster. He towered over an Aberration sitting on the floor up against the back wall. The Headmaster was shielding the Aberration from Kelerin’s view but from the little that could be seen, legs and arms lying limp on the floor to either side, the man looked broken. Dented piping above where the man slumped on the floor seemed to corroborate this.
“Isn’t that-.”
“Shhh,” he signaled, cutting Analel off.
The scene in and of itself wasn’t so shocking. It looked like the Headmaster had gotten hold of an Aberration and was meting out well deserved justice. It was what was being said, however, that changed the context, opening Kelerin’s eyes to a mirror of reality - an inverse world of everything he’d known to be true and had taken for granted his entire life - a darker reflection of it.
“ONE JOB YOU HAD TO DO - ONE JOB!” The Headmaster stood over his victim, his rageful outburst abating to uncomprehending frustration. “Wait for the right time. Take the ship. It couldn’t have been simpler.” He spoke to the Aberration the way Kelerin imagined he would speak to a Student wasting away their Academic years. “I should have known. When you pushed for those access codes early, I should have known. But I guess I couldn’t bring myself to believe that a person could be that self-destructive. You could have had all the money you needed to wage your pointless one-man war for the next decade. BUT NO! Instead you betrayed me, and thereby betrayed yourself.” At that last comment, the Aberration Kelerin thought to be lifeless started to laugh. Orisius continued, incredulous. “What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? Or are you simply crazy? A madman?” More laughter. “Did you delude yourself into believing you’d get away with it?” The laughter grew to the point of hysteria. “I’m going to kill you. You’ve lost. Your cause is lost!”
“MY CAUSE,” the Aberration cut in suddenly, his laughter gone in an instant, replaced with a bitter mix of anger and anguish, “is to avenge my brother’s blood. Blood that YOU and your ACADEMY share responsibility for spilling!”
“Is that what this is about?” asked the Headmaster, suddenly looking tired, like he had too many exams to grade. “How, in all of Osmos, are we responsible?”
“How? HOW! The Islands have always been responsible for my people’s suffering…” The Headmaster listened and groaned, realizing he was about to be subjected to a long diatribe of stale, propaganda driven grievances, “…shoving your ideas, your technology, your culture down our throats, corrupting, enslaving. The Race was your latest lie. A chance to conquer the stars, the Academy says. What you really meant was another way to enslave my people, more ways for Mainlanders to fall dependent on Island resources. I told my father about it. I warned my brother. My father’s corrupt; he only cares about staying in power. My brother was too proud; he thought he could win. Beat you despite your obvious lies and cheats. He refused to listen. Your Academy’s Race killed my brother - so I destroyed it. Even if I didn’t get all of you - as you stand here now and the one who had my brother’s medallion still walks free - I die having avenged my brother’s blood. I DIE WITH HONOUR!”
Orisius regarded the smiling Aberration silently for a spell. “You know,” he began, “I’ve been a Headmaster for quite a while now. I’ve been teaching for more years of my life than not, and I’ve learned a thing or two about failure.�
� He leaned over very close to the Aberration now. “Tell me something, Bar-Kas. When was the last time you were able to look in the mirror and not see the inadequate son, or brother for that matter, who will never measure up?”
The Aberration’s smile twisted into a scowl. He began growling like an animal, which grew to a roar, “AAAAAHhh… AAAhhhh… AAAHHHHH!” jerking forward, neck veins throbbing, his cries coming over and over again, throwing them out like they were weapons, like they could pierce flesh, killing by means of pure hatred alone.
Orisius turned to walk away, his now the face with the smug expression, but it quickly dissipated, replaced by shock and hesitation. Kelerin had not realized he’d moved into the module, slowly, incrementally, mesmerized, drawn to the words he couldn’t bring himself to believe were true - and now he was exposed.
The hateful cries spat forth from the Aberration still filled the chamber. It seemed to further complicate the situation and annoy Orisius while he calculated how to deal with this new development. In anger born of frustration, he spun, lashing out with his Whip in the direction of the Aberration. “QUIET ALREADY!” he decreed.
Kelerin didn’t stick around to find out what happened. The moment Orisius turned, so did he, bolting out the door in a fraction of a second, the voice of the Headmaster chasing after him, calling for him to wait, which only motivated him to run faster, charging through modules, retracing his steps. His mind raced through its own cloudy corridors of implications and necessary courses of action.
“Kelerin, what do we do?”
“I have to think.”
He sounded… she didn’t know. She’d seen him uncertain before - the day of the duel, during the attack on the Academy, the raid on the Miner - but this was different. He seemed scared, and that scared her more than anything else. “You have to tell the others.”
“It’s my word against the Headmaster. Who would you believe?”
“Then you have to get out of there.”
“So do you, Analel,” Kelerin said, still running, still thinking. “He knows I have a Prophet. He’ll send a team for you.”
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