Pursuit of Valor (The Tarvaax War Book 1)

by Tripp Ellis

  “I know. But might as well get it out of the way.”

  Isaac shrugged and followed him down the aisle, along with Matt.

  It took a few minutes of waiting in line to get to speak with Sergeant Cole. The war hero regarded Zack, and his injuries, curiously. “You look like you’ve seen a little combat of your own.”

  “A minor dispute that couldn’t be resolved diplomatically, Sergeant.”

  Cole chuckled. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Zack Salvator, Sergeant. I’d like to take my aptitude test as soon as possible.”

  “I can arrange that. We’ve got a mobile testing facility in the parking lot. An important question is, do you want me to pull you out of class now? Or do you want to take the test after school?”

  “I’m fine with anything that gets me out of class, Sergeant.”

  Cole grinned. “I figured.” His eyes surveyed Isaac and Matt. “What about your friends?”

  The two of them shrugged.

  “Yeah, sure.” Matt said. “Getting out of class is good.”

  “All right. Sign up on this list here, and I’ll get you priority testing.” Cole handed him a tablet that displayed a sign-up app. It was a thin piece of smart glass, only a few millimeters thick.

  Zack pressed his thumb against the ID box on the screen and all of his identifying information filled into the application form, along with his most recent ID picture. The amount of information was staggering. His complete academic record, which was extrapolated from various data points in his personal record.

  Zack checked the box agreeing to the test, waiving three pages of fine print that he didn’t bother to read. He handed the tablet to Matt who repeated the process.

  "I like that you boys are showing initiative," Cole said. "There is no greater honor than serving the Federation. Enlisting in the Space Corps, in any capacity, has a wide range of perks. Healthcare, pension, money for college, not to mention you will be part of a brotherhood. Even if you are not a fit for the Mechanized Infantry Pilot Program, there are plenty of opportunities in the Space Corps." Cole leaned in and whispered, “And between you and me, I think the draft is just around the corner. The draftees don’t get near as many benefits. You might end up as a supply clerk somewhere and miss all the action.”

  Isaac had a look on his face like missing the action wasn’t all that bad. He was anxious just agreeing to the terms of the testing. Going off to war wasn't on his agenda at all. “There’s no obligation to sign up just by taking the test, is there?”

  Cole smiled. “No. Not unless they reinstitute the draft.”

  The statement didn’t exactly reassure Isaac, but he signed anyway. He handed the tablet back to Sergeant Cole.

  “Excellent. I’ll let your principal know that you’ll be fulfilling your civic duty for the rest of the afternoon.” He winked at the boys.

  They hung around the auditorium for a few minutes while several other students signed up for testing. Then Cole led the students out of the auditorium, into the parking lot. There was a military dropship perched on the emergency landing pad. It was one of the coolest things Zack had ever seen. It had an aggressive stance and short swept wings with plasma cannons mounted fore, aft, and on sub-wing pylons on either side. It had active camouflage that had an urban green/grey pattern. There was a large cargo area that could hold an entire platoon of Marines. The interior had been converted to a state-of-the-art testing facility.

  “Gentlemen, you are looking at one of the finest combat aerial vehicles the Marine Corps has to offer. The SV-760 Raptor.” He said it like a proud parent fawning over his favorite child. “When you’re in the thick of it, there is no finer sight, or sound, than a Raptor coming to save you. Life and death in the same package. Life for you, death for the enemy.”

  The pilot was smoking a cigarette, inspecting the underbelly of the craft. Sergeant Cole led the would-be recruits up the back loading ramp into the cargo bay. It was loaded with scanners and displays—high tech equipment that each emitted a blue-green glow.

  A technician sat at a console. He stood up as Cole introduced him. “This is Corporal Moriarty. He'll be administering the testing today. Just follow his instructions. It will be quick and painless.”

  Corporal Moriarty looked over his PDU. “Austin Andrews, you’re up.”

  Austin stepped forward and took a seat in the exam chair.

  “Open your mouth,” the corporal said.

  “Is this a dental exam?"

  “I need a DNA sample." The corporal swabbed the inside of Austin's cheek. He put the sample in a collection container and labeled it. Then the corporal placed a neural ring around Austin’s head. It was a band about an inch wide. It attached at the temples and had multiple sensor points throughout the band. Austin’s brainwave activity appeared on a screen. Another monitor displayed a 3-D image of Austin's brain.

  “Just close your eyes and try to relax. You may experience random sensations during the process as different areas of the brain are stimulated. You may get sensations of hot or cold, random transient pain, as well as possible feelings of euphoria. You may perceive random smells or tastes. And you may experience auditory or visual hallucinations. This will all be temporary, and will discontinue after the scan has completed,” the corporal said.

  A wave of concern washed over Austin’s face.

  The corporal pressed a few buttons on his PDU, and the scan began. All of the displays lit up with activity. After a moment, Austin’s nose twisted up like he smelled something bad. A few moments later, he winced. Then he smiled. Then he swallowed. He continued to run through a range of expressions. After a minute, the test was over.

  “Thank you, Mr. Andrews. Proceed to room 125-C for the written exam.” The corporal removed the neural ring from Austin’s head.

  Austin looked a little stunned that it was over so quickly. “That’s it?”

  The corporal smiled. “The scan is brief. The computer will process your compatibility.”

  Austin stood up and staggered out of the Raptor. He was a little dazed. The other would-be recruits stared at him as he left, unsure about what they were getting themselves into.

  The corporal tested three more of Zack’s classmates, then called his name. Zack took a seat in the chair, and the corporal affixed the interface. He repeated the same instructions given to the others, then began the scan.

  Zack felt his entire body tingle for a moment. He felt a rush of euphoria, followed by dizziness and nausea. But the discomfort was brief. He saw a rush of imagery flash in his mind. Long forgotten memories from childhood. He caught a momentary glimpse of his biological father. The rush of imagery was so overwhelming it was hard to make sense of, or gain perspective on anything. It was like someone had opened the floodgates of his mind. Everything was pouring out all at once.

  He tasted apple pie, which was followed by the damp musty smell of a sewer pipe. The two sensations didn’t make for a pleasant combination. Then, as quickly as it began, it was all over.

  The corporal removed the scanner. “Thank you, Mr. Salvator. Proceed to room 125-C for the written exam.”

  The corporal's face was expressionless. Zack had no idea if he passed the test or not. The ground felt uneasy as he stood up, like he was on a ship at sea. He strolled toward the loading ramp, listing slightly.

  “How was it?” Matt asked.

  Zack shrugged. The sensation was beyond explanation. “You’ll see.”

  11

  The written part of the exam was a mind-numbing personality profile. Many of the questions seemed repetitive. They were true or false questions, and students were instructed to mark the answer that best described them.

  I constantly worry about mistakes.

  I perform better under pressure.

  I'm easily distracted.

  I have difficulty focusing.

  I'm easily intimidated.

  I like a challenge.

  I get depressed easily.

  I tend to be a
pessimist.

  I’m confident in my abilities.

  Zack finished the exam within 45 minutes. He returned the exam PDU to the test proctor and waited in the hallway for Matt and Isaac to finish.

  “That was weird," Matt said. "I sometimes like to hurt myself. I sometimes like to hurt small animals. What the hell is that?”

  "They're trying to see if you’re a psychopath," Isaac said.

  “Don't they want psychopaths to go fight wars?" Matt asked.

  Isaac shrugged.

  “It's a personality evaluation to determine mental toughness and resiliency—crucial components of becoming a special warfare operator. Conflicting answers on the redundant questions lead to poor scores, as well as answers that express self doubt and difficulty under pressure.”

  "How do you think you did?" Isaac asked.

  "I think I did just fine," Zack replied. "Isn't that the attitude they want you to have?"

  The three of them left the building and walked across the parking lot, heading home. Zack hoped he wasn't going to run into Dean Dully.

  “I'm assuming none of these kids are compatible?” Sergeant Cole said. He looked over the shoulder of Corporal Moriarty at the display screen in the Raptor.

  “Actually, I think we've got a match," Corporal Moriarty said.

  Cole looked pleasantly surprised. "Pull up his file."

  Zack's image appeared on the screen, along with his full dossier—brain scan, test score, medical history, academic record, etc.

  “And you're sure this guy is compatible?"

  “His brain scan indicates a high level of compatibility. In fact, I think it's the highest I've ever recorded."

  Cole looked impressed. "Really? Let's start digging and see if we can find anything wrong with him.”

  They tabbed through various screens looking over his file.

  "He scores high on intelligence testing, but his academic record is less than exemplary," the corporal said. "It also seems that he has a problem with authority. There are multiple disciplinary actions on his record.”

  "I doubt you had a perfect record growing up, Corporal."

  The corporal didn't respond.

  "Does he have any major medical issues that would preclude him from service?"

  “It doesn’t appear that way, other than his current injuries."

  “Those will heal.”

  "Looks like we’ve got a DNA match on a prior service member." The corporal pulled up the file on the display. An image of a Marine in his early 20’s appeared on the screen. It was an old picture from the Alvatrox War. "That must be the boy's father.”

  Cole recognized the man instantly. "Well, I'll be damned." A grin curled up on Sergeant Cole’s face. He had found the needle in the haystack that he had been looking for. They had interviewed a thousand students, and none of them had been a match. "Pull up this kid's address. Corporal, do you know who this kid is?" he asked, triumphantly.

  Zack split off from the others at Calhoun Street and headed on his own toward the bus stop. He was going to head down to the loading terminal and try to get his job back.

  The sky was starting to cloud over, and Zack could smell rain in the air. He hoped that the weather would hold until he made it to the bus stop.

  He had to wait 15 minutes for the next bus. A light drizzle began to fall, but the awning at the bus stop kept him dry. The sprinkle only lasted a few minutes. But the real storm was coming. This was just a precursor.

  Eddie Bosko began ranting at him as soon as he stepped foot onto the terminal lot. "You don’t work here anymore.”

  "I'm aware of that. Mr. Bosko. I really need the job."

  “Well, you should have thought of that when you decided not to show up yesterday.”

  “Circumstances beyond my control."

  “You are responsible for your own destiny. There are no circumstances beyond your control."

  Zack's face tensed with frustration. “I got beat up by a gang of guys.” He was incredulous at Bosko’s lack of sympathy.

  "Then perhaps you shouldn't start fights you can't win."

  “Look, Mr. Bosko. I really need this job.”

  “It's bad enough the government mandates my hiring you people. And then you don't show up?” Bosko shook his head. "Let me tell you something, robots always show up on time. They don't get sick. They don't get in fights. And I don't have to pay them."

  “You’re seriously firing me over this?”

  "Yes, I'm seriously firing you over this. And I'm putting in a request for more robot waivers. This is ridiculous." Bosko stormed away.

  Zack glared at him. A dozen expletives and insults ran through his mind, but he bit his tongue. He spun around and stormed off the lot. To make matters worse, he figured Mr. Bosko would short him on his last paycheck.

  Zack took the transit bus back to his side of town. It dropped him off on Fulton. If he never set foot on that street again, it would be too soon. Walking past the spot where he got beaten to a pulp made a shiver run down his spine. He was hoping Dean Dully wasn't anywhere around. Zack strolled up a few blocks and cut over on Crawford. He heard the distant rumble of thunder by the time he hit Preston Avenue. He looked up at the angry sky, watching as the front rolled in. In the distance, it looked like the rain was coming down hard.

  Zack focused his gaze back to the sidewalk ahead of him and continued toward his apartment complex. But Dean, and a few of his goons, stepped out of the alley way to block his path.

  Zack's heart leapt into his throat. He was in no condition to deal with the ogre for a second day in a row. Zack took a few steps back and turned around to see two more of Dean's thugs behind him at the corner. There was no getting away from these creeps.

  Adrenaline rushed through his body. He quickly tried to assess the situation. Should he try to run and plow through one of the smaller guys? It was doubtful he'd be able to escape. Besides, Zack was never one to run away from his problems. He'd rather go out swinging.

  12

  “Didn't we settle this yesterday?" Zack asked.

  “Today's a new day," Dean said. The mouth-breather towered over him.

  “I don’t blame you for wanting to fight again. Yesterday made you look weak.”

  Dean scoffed. “How do you figure?”

  "You needed your friends to help you. I don't think you can take me all by yourself." Zack was egging him on. He knew damn good and well fighting Dean was a losing battle, no matter how you sliced it. But one-on-one was better than five-on-one.

  "I'm going to destroy you, you little punk.” Dean's nostrils flared. He grumbled to his buddies, "Nobody touches him but me!”

  Zack breathed a little sigh of relief. At least the odds were a little better. Still not a fair fight.

  Dean snarled and tilted his head down, like a bull ready to charge. His dull eyes glared at Zack from behind his furrowed brow. He lunged toward Zack, and cocked his arm back ready to strike. His 300 pound frame was slow to get moving. It was also slow to stop or turn.

  Zack ducked and dodged as the ogre swung at him. The meathead's fist swooped overhead.

  Dean's weight carried him forward. He finally stopped and turned around to face Zack. His chest was already heaving for breath. If Zack could keep moving like this, the big guy would wear out quickly.

  Dean sprinted toward him again. Zack sidestepped, narrowly escaping another fist careening toward his face.

  Dean hit the brakes and lumbered back around. Zack could see the frustration in his eyes. The two squared off and paced in a circle. Their eyes locked into one another. Dean was catching his breath. Zack knew he needed to keep the meathead moving.

  The rain started to drizzle down. Thunder rumbled in the air. Tree leaves rustled with gusts of wind.

  Zack took off running, and the ogre gave chase. Zack circled around a tree, trying to keep the trunk in between him and the ogre. He was running the big guy in circles, like a dog chasing his tail.

  Dean's inertia made it hard for hi
m to turn sharply. The fresh rain mixing with the oil on the surface of the asphalt made the street slick. The tree was between the sidewalk and the street. Zack kept circling, running down into the street, back over the curb, along the sidewalk, and back to the street. He did this over and over again until the big guy’s side was aching.

  Zack caught a lucky break when the big guy slipped on the asphalt. All 300 pounds smashed into the roadway. It was like an elephant had fallen. Zack could feel the rumble in the soles of his shoes. Dean scrambled to get to his feet, but Zack swooped in and swung at him with all his might. His hard cast cracked Dean in the jaw. It wrenched his neck to the side. Crimson blood sprayed from his lip onto the asphalt, mixing with the rain. Zack's white cast was now stained with blood.

  Dean shook his head and spit a pinkish mix of blood and saliva onto the street. He lumbered to his feet, looking even more ferocious.

  Zack realized that all he had probably accomplished was to make the big guy mad.

  Dean charged at Zack, tackling him in the middle of the street. He reared his fist back, ready to pummel Zack into the ground. His massive fist loomed overhead like a giant boulder. A mix of rain and blood dripped down his chin.

  Zack cringed in anticipation. Everything happened in slow motion. This was probably the last thing that Zack was ever going to see. A few punches from the ogre would likely kill him.

  At the last second, someone grabbed Dean's arm, keeping the punch from connecting.

  Dean looked up in disbelief at the man holding his arm. It was Sergeant Cole. His car was in the street with the door ajar. He had driven by during the altercation and intervened.

  "Fight’s over for today,” Sergeant Cole said. He stared the bully down with the eyes of a man who had seen a thousand enemies die before him.

  For an instant, Dean contemplated getting in Cole's face. But the glimmering medals on his chest caused Dean to have second thoughts. He staggered to his feet and jerked his arm free of Cole’s grasp. He stared at the war hero, dumbly.

  "Why don't you run home to your mama before you get hurt!”