Jackie took aim again and put another long-distance shot into the scout, disabling him in a clutch situation.
Zabe whistled at her skill. “Congratulations on your training,” he said. “That’s definitely not mere luck.”
“I think she’s just a natural.” Harken refused to take credit for it.
***
Gita screamed in pain only seconds after the giddy screams of success when she took the flag. She scooted herself around to face Jenner. “Catch!” She slid the prize along the ground where Jenner snatched it up before executing a deliberate retreat. Behind him Gita pushed herself forward on her toes, staying below the ranged of the obstacle course’s painful, clockwork appendages.
Jackie laid down some cover fire as her friends extricated themselves with the objective in hand Jenner wouldn’t be able to fire his weapon as long as he carried it—the device’s signal deactivated his pistol. “The clock’s running—we’re in the lead for points,” Jackie cheered them on as they cleared the last few hurdles.
Jenner and Gita scrambled to their feet and the threesome ducked around the corner heading back into the maze and in search of the rest of their teammates.
“Good,” Gita said, shaking the tingling numbness from her arm. “Now we’ve just got to hold onto the lead.”
***
“By now, Alpha, Gamma, and Delta teams ought to be mostly inside the winding maze and looking for us—let’s risk a direct route back,” Jackie suggested.
She, Jenner, and Gita rounded a corner and entered a section of the labyrinth composed of old ruins. The long, straight hall exposed them on the stretching straightaways but they knew it provided the fastest, most direct routes back towards their team.
In the distance, another group from Beta popped out and beckoned for them excitedly as they held the position. Jackie made a break for them, carrying the package to safety amid the larger numbers. Jenner and Gita brought up the rear.
They planted a hundred meters back to provide a safety buffer in case any opposition came from the rear while the rest of Beta group protected the game’s primary goal.
A few long seconds passed and the area grew quiet as their teammates moved further towards the fortified areas close to their staging zone. Suddenly, a gunman from Gamma broke into the lengthy, walled path, firing wildly.
Gita and Jenner sprinted away and jumped over some broken ruins for cover—Gita on one side, Jenner on the other. Their opponent fired relentlessly, barely pausing to aim. The cacophony nearly deafened them. The shots seemed louder than normal with a distinct crack of the air as he fired.
Jenner looked worriedly to Gita from behind the chunk of massive, toppled pillar. Gita was pinned down behind a tiny retaining wall and couldn’t move a muscle without exposing herself. Busted fragments of rock spat skyward as the zealous enemy tried to tag her with his crimson laser bursts.
“Those are lethal blasts!” Jenner yelled, telling her to stay down.
Gita’s eyes widened as she understood. Somehow, the soldier from Gamma had either failed to perform his weapons test or accidentally switched it over without realizing it.
Jenner leaned into the opening, screaming for him to stop, but only drew a burst of deadly energy. Between the tunnel vision rush of adrenaline and the aura of blood in the water he felt with his prey pinned down, the Gamma soldier wasn’t about to let up.
Red, rotating lights spun every hundred meters atop the wall, signaling an emergency end to the event. Jenner leaned out enough to get an eye on the observation deck and saw the generals scrambling as they rushed towards them—they’d seen the malfunction, too… but they would never get there in time and the soldier who pinned them down was too enthralled by the excitement to notice the signal.
Jenner yanked his head back behind his cover before the gunner could blow it off.
Gita’s eyes filled with panic. Her terror filled Jenner with rage. He spat a bunch of curses and broke a piece off of his weapon. Jenner had plenty of reason to be angry. Bottling his rage up had become his norm in the wake of personal disaster after disaster. He was sick of it. Jenner channeled that rage and used it to keep him going as he concentrated on a solution—he didn’t want to kill the idiotic recruit from Gamma if he didn’t have to—but there was little chance he could get a drop on the jumpy triggerman anyway.
Jenner had read up on a few obscure combat tricks and gritted his teeth as he tried one of them. He rammed the broken metal piece into the tangs of the weapon's charging ports, making the device into a makeshift bomb.
He threw the gun over his barricade where the remainder of his busted pillar towered precariously like a granite stump. The weapon cycled up and emitted a shrill whine as it reached critical levels.”
“I have an idea,” Jenner shouted. “Throw your gun over.”
“Are you crazy? He’ll kill us—he thinks he’s set to stun!”
“Trust me.”
Gita tossed the pistol. Sure enough, the recruit charged at them, gun still blazing, thinking he could disable the enemy with a few quick stun shots. A split second later and he would nearly have a critical angle on the two—but Jenner’s blaster exploded in a ball of concussive fire that leveled a section of the wall and toppled the chunk of freestanding pillar.
The bewildered soldier reeled away from the blast and hopped out of the path of the tumbling pillar, barely avoiding the crushing blow. Jenner leapt out from his cover and tackled the enemy, using the element of surprise to easily wrestle the gun away from him.
Zabe, Wulftone, and Harken arrived a few moments later.
As the dust settled, the rest of the troops trickled their way over and received an impromptu debriefing. Everyone was relieved, especially the accidental gunman, that nobody had been killed.
Harken pulled Jenner aside. “That was some quick thinking,” he told him. “But I’m afraid you’re not going to be in my military unit.”
Jenner’s face flashed with a pang of worry.
“That sort of swift reaction is the kind of thing General Zabe looks for in troops he wants for his Guardian Corps.”
The boy smiled and then glanced back at Gita. “I hope so. And I hope that Gita makes the cut too.”
Harken smiled placidly, fully recognizing that twinkle in his eye. He stole a glance of his own towards Jackie. “Just don’t get too crazy trying to protect your own—the mission always comes first. But here, take this as something to remember today by. You never know when you need an extra boost.” He pressed a large bullet into the youth’s fist.
Jenner turned it over in his hand. “An explosive round? Aren’t these illegal?”
Harken shrugged. “Not exactly. But they are rare and expensive—so just call it a keepsake and don’t ask questions,” he laughed. “But they’re definitely not safe. Just like every romance I’ve ever had. Be cautious and wise, my friend.”
Jenner bobbed his head thankfully as his superior clapped him on the shoulders with congratulations.
“You probably saved his life,” Harken reiterated, indicating the opponent from Gamma. “And you definitely saved hers,” he motioned to Gita.
Jenner stared at Gita longer than politeness allowed for.
“Remember,” Harken cautioned, “there’s nothing quite so fiery as girls or bullets. Keep your head down. Both can be cruel mistresses.”
***
Zabe knew he was dreaming, but he didn’t have any control over the events happening to him. He wouldn’t have changed it if did, anyways.
He held his bleeding side where he’d been gored by a feral talonbeast in the wilderness. He didn’t bother to check for weapons, this had all happened to the teenage Zabe once before and he knew they’d been lost in the fight to drive back one of the sorcerer’s incursions; he’d gotten separated from his unit as they fought the vyrm back to their source.
Young Zabe wiped the mud off his name badge and rank marker affixed to the breastplate over his heart. H
e didn’t do it to check that this was his memory, but rather because it was important. The insignia marked him as a freshly minted soldier with only a few skirmishes under his belt, earning him the honor of a name badge—General Zahaben had not opted for any special privileges to be awarded his sons.
He held his side to keep the blood flow staunched as he slogged through the marsh. Zabe felt light headed with the loss of blood and he knew that the creature still stalked him through the bogs—the smell of fresh blood let the beast know exactly where its prey was and how badly wounded it remained.
He could’ve stopped it, but his brother was a skilled tracker. While Zurrah was still too young for the trials he’d honed his skills on hunting trips.
Zabe crawled out of the slough and into the bracken of the fen. He had less fear this time. He knew the outcome already.
Just as the talonbeast charged through the underbrush Zurrah leapt out from the trees and plunged a sharpened pike into the ravenous, felinoid beast, saving Zabe’s life.
A few years his junior, Zurrah wore the freshly minted Guardian Corps armor he’d only just earned. Before they even left the fens Zabe took Zurrah’s knife and etched his brother’s name into the metal of the chest plate.
“I haven’t earned it yet,” Zurrah argued.
Zabe argued, “As long as I’m concerned, you’ve earned both name and rank.”
The Master at Arms awoke in his bed. He hadn’t spoken about his brother in years, though he thought about him often. Something about watching the new recruits had conjured up the memories.
He only hoped that he could do better by this new crop of trainees. The threat of Nitthogr had finally been averted, but the Prime was in dire need of warriors as committed as his brother Zurrah. He needed more than heart and commitment, however; Zabe needed men and woman of skill and tenacity. Zurrah hadn’t survived—and Zabe was committed to ensuring that his trainees fared better.
Chapter 3
Three Years Later…
The Prime.
Zabe held Claire tightly as they stood outside the apartment door to the suite she shared with her father and Jackie. Daylight had barely begun to creep through the arched windows in the long hallway of the royal citadel.
Claire stifled a yawn. The couple’s all-nighter had been too-long in coming. Ever since beginning the rebuilding efforts to repair Nitthogr’s damage they’d barely managed any time together. They’d finally begun stealing it from other areas—chiefly their late, sleeping hours.
He squeezed her again. “I’ve got to go,” Zabe whispered.
Claire pouted slightly. Zabe’s new position demanded much of him. The Guardian Corps, still needed constant rebuilding and the Prime needed to remain vigilant against any new threats. They knew there were many. “Fine,” she sighed, relinquishing her hold on him. She had her own duties to attend to.
Zabe held her hand for a second longer. “Will you tell your father soon?”
She nodded. “Soon.”
Zabe grinned, let her hand go, and went to work.
Claire watched him go before slipping quietly into her living quarters. She hoped to sneak inside before anyone realized she’d been out all night.
The aromatic scent of strong coffee hit her as soon she cleared the door and Claire knew she’d been busted. Sam Jones, her father, nodded to her as she closed the door sheepishly behind. He lifted the carafe and poured her a cup.
“Late night?” he asked.
Claire shrugged and embraced the warm mug. She chugged half the cup and then refilled it as the caffeine slapped her brain into some semblance of wakefulness.
“You and Zabe… things are getting pretty serious?”
Claire laid her head on the table as if defeated. “Yes,” she sighed. She’d never been good at hiding anything from him.
“Real serious?”
“Uh-huh,” she agreed from below the cascade of falling hair.
“Are you still worried he’s in love with Bithia instead of Claire Jones?”
She looked up at her father and gushed all of her emotions. They spilled out as barely coherent, rapid-fire sentence fragments. “We’re the same. I think we’ve merged more fully. Bithia and me—Claire and me. I don’t know. Yes. We—I love him. Responsibilities, you know, Princess of the Prime, and stuff. Argh! Relationships are so hard!”
Claire put her face back down on the table.
Sam grinned. “Believe it or not, I’ve felt all those same things before… when your mother was—before she…”
“You felt the pressures of being some kind of inter-dimensional princess, too?”
He chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”
An awkward silence passed between them. Claire finally picked herself back up and sipped her coffee again.
“I’d do anything to get back to that nervous, angsty tension… that swelling, eager sense of hope and love. Relationships are good. Trust me. This is how we were made to be.” He smiled warmly.
The door slammed open and then shut with a bang as Jackie stormed through, exasperated. “Relationships suck!” she exclaimed.
Jackie joined them at the table and slumped into a heap in a spare chair, dumping a bundle of newspapers and other sundries as she collapsed. She laid her head on the table just like Claire had done and pouted.
Claire cocked an eyebrow at her disheveled friend. She still wore the clothes she’d been wearing the previous evening and her hair was a matted mess.
“Late night?”
Jackie blew a raspberry and glared at her friend while Doctor Jones sorted through the materials she’d dropped on the floor, including a few weeks of old newspapers from Earth. He liked keeping up with events from their home realm. “You could say that. I know I used to want guys to like me, but I take back everything I ever wished for.”
Claire patted her friend on the head playfully. “Boy trouble?”
“Remember when I couldn’t find a date for your wedding that never happened? Now I can hardly keep them off me! I was out with Wulftone and accidentally called him Harken in the middle of conversation!” She hung her head again. “Things were simpler before coming to some weird alternate universe where I’ve somehow become an exotic sex-symbol. But at this rate, I’m going to make both guys so mad at me I’ll wind up going as your dad’s plus one to your next wedding.”
Sam piped up. “Excuse me. Wedding?”
Claire shot her closest friend a warning look. “She’s talking hypothetically, Dad.”
Sam shrugged nonchalantly but his eyes indicated he might suspect more than he’d let on.
“Ugh,” Jackie continued, “And I’ve got more drills and training this morning, too. Both of them are going to be there. My life is over.”
“So just pick one,” Claire laughed.
“Could you? That’s like picking to give up ice cream or chocolate forever. You can’t just pick one. Which do you choose?”
“Chocolate,” Claire and her father both said simultaneously.
Jackie scowled while they laughed and high-fived each other.
“You guys are too weird,” she rolled her eyes and hung her head again.
Claire grinned and shrugged. She knew it was a compliment.
“Speaking of weird,” Sam flipped to the back page of the news article to continue reading. The front page-page story listed strange accounts of high profile robberies. Witnesses claimed seeing an odd, triangular projection at the heists. One major diamond theft threatened to bankrupt an entire Central-American country. “I’ve seen this before!” He flashed them an artist’s rendering of the triangle.
“So have I.” Claire peeled off the front page and began reading in greater detail. “A story about a kidnapping during Nitthogr’s invasion in the Prime came to me a while back. One of my subjects’ told a story about his family’s slaughter by other people—not vyrm. It was Professor Jarfig’s family; Jarfig was the head of the Prime Museum. One of his c
hildren survived the attack. Jenner was just a teen… barely old enough to enter the Royal Army for training with a special exemption, which I granted in lieu of his circumstances.”
Sam looked at her inquisitively.
Claire glanced at Jackie who also looked at her oddly. “You’re doing it again.”
Claire’s cheeks flushed slightly. She sometimes slipped into a different kind of voice making it obvious when Bithia’s side came through more overtly than Claire’s.
Sam gave her an out and changed the subject. He slid a different section of the newspaper across the table and nodded to the headline. Local Philanthropist Teaches Orphans to Sail. “Didn’t you know her in college?”
Claire skimmed through the article about Holly Wainsmith, a rich girl she’d had a few classes with at the U. She’d trained a group of parentless children to sail; it detailed their plans to sail from Florida to Bermuda on something of a dream vacation for the underprivileged. “She was always championing some new project or cause,” Claire nodded as she tapped Holly’s family photo.
“She must get it from her mother who was an absolute saint. I only met her father once. I got a real sleazeball vibe from him.” Claire did a double take and then pressed the paper close to her face for a better view. “Oh. No wonder,” she mumbled as she identified what appeared to be a familiar, seven-pointed star pinned to the lapel of Holly’s father, Percival Wainsmith.
***
“Leave us,” Basilisk ordered his guards away from his sanctum while he abused his victim. The other captured vyrm remained bound in chains and on their knees. Their eyes shone with defiance.
He stepped on the neck of the vyrm interloper. “I already know who you work for,” he said calmly. “You are members of the Black and you have been planted here in order to spy on the tarkhūn—to spy on me.” He applied more pressure until the scaly vyrm cried out.
The pained yelp echoed through the hybrid warlord’s sculpture garden. Grimacing as he crushed the poor captive’s skull, the trio of shackled prisoners watched for any opportunity.
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