Dust
28 Feb 2016Ryan Murdoc
“Life is not always a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.” Jack London Two days. 48 hours. That's all it took. Whomever said that it's easy to start a War but impossible to stop one, didn't know of the Ghost Squadron and its Commanders.
Like a swarm of hungry locusts we gathered from all corners of the cosmos and descended into the combat zones, rushing in like a spring tide. Over Stevenson the fiercest of battles raged, turning the skies into a never ending cascade of explosions. Plowing through the enemy like berserkers, drunk on victory and the thrill of the kill. We laughed as we pulled the triggers, bullets turning ships into wrecks, lasers melting through canopies, using our ships as battering rams. Smiling in raptured bliss as the enemy was split apart, and the screams of agony silenced momentarily as their pilots were taken apart like their ships.
After the dust had settled, Phiagre Industry (PI) was done for, their influence plummeted like a rock. Our overwhelming military victory spoke for itself, giving the SJC enough to shine as a beacon in the aftermath. Still, there were riots happening, consisting mostly of the widows and orphants of those who died in the Civil War, pointing their sorrow and rage at PI. Several leading managers were caught fleeing from Sopheos, their bodyguards trying to fight off protesting relatives of the dead pilots.
In the struggle, one of the bodyguards drew a gun and fired, accidentally or not, nobody could tell afterwards. But the shot hit a young girl of the age of 14, killing her instantly. After that, the assembled people turned into a raging mass, capable of only one thought: BLOOD! There were 42 casualties in the end, all but one of the managers, all their bodyguards and many, many civilians. Security had to use tear gas in such amounts that the place was unable to be crossed without a mask for three days afterwards.
The one that survived was transferred to the nearest hospital, and as luck would have it, said hospital was staffed mainly by people loyal to the SJC. I was given the information, and thus proceeded to pay him a visit, for after a bit more research it showed that he was working closely with Arthur O'Hara. Mr. O'Hara was the one responsible putting the bounty on my head and thus introducing the Cooper twins to me and Violet, and I'd have loved to converse with him personally about that. Sadly, he was one of the many casualties due to the rioting mob (having your head treated forcibly with a 24'' wrench doesn't help keeping the skull in one piece, obviously).
I've entered the hospital, dressed in my latest leather suit, which I'd need to have refitted soon though. Was a bit too tight in sensitive regions.
The things I bought on Qa'Wakana felt wrong to wear, at least for the moment. Not to mention they reminded me of a certain someone. But I needed to be focused now, if I wanted to get some thorough information. Granted, Mr. Carl McGregor was in no shape to evade my questions, except he'd die suddenly. Which would be most unfortunate for my curiosity.
I've asked regarding the whereabouts of Mr. McGregor, and after a brief discussion was told where to head. As I left the entrance area, I passed a janitor that was cleaning around. The music coming from his headset was loud, so I couldn't help but smirk as I went on, finding the lyrics quite fitting. Entering the elevator, I pressed the button for the highest floor.
PI had an interest in keeping Carl secure and safe, and thus had paid to make sure the whole floor would be only their security, and their medical staff. I probably was relying too much on whatever was in me to keep me from dying, but my patience was running low. I wanted answers, and the word No wasn't in my vocabulary in this case.
As the elevator was almost at the top, the lights suddenly went out and it stopped, literally leaving me in the dark. If this would've been a regular outage of sorts, I should've at least been able to use the emergency button, but nothing was working at all. Standing in the dark for probably five minutes, I listened to my own breathing, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.
"...and I am supposed to believe that this is a coincidence? Yeah, right. Ok, let's get on top of this thing and..."
The energy came back.
It took me another two minutes to reach the top floor, the Elevator suddenly being slow as a snail, but at least it was moving at all.
As the doors opened, I was greeted with a familiar sight. Familiar, but by no means comforting. The hallway in front of me was littered with uniforms, security and medical. There were no visible marks of weapon fire of any kind, they seemed to have died where they stood, sat or walked.
Turned to dust, like Professor Reber back in Qa'Wakana.
"Bloody hell..." I muttered under my breath, locating the nearest weapon, flipping the safety switch and adding as many magazines as I could carry. I advanced slowly, checking every room for possible survivors or eventual attackers, but found nothing but more empty uniforms and dust.
"Nobody would be able to kill so many people in such a short amount of time, without even one bullet being fired. It must've been spread through the air, there can't be another explanation. And since I'm not turned to dust yet, it has dissipated already...hopefully" my thoughts went on as I found no evidence of anybody having survived this.
And then I entered the room where Carl McGregor was supposed to be.
He was there alright, but in the same condition as the rest of the people here. Beside his bed however was someone else, or more like something, powered down.
"Great, nobody but a medical support unit survived this. Looks like I have to check through the Data stick to get some answers..." I spoke out loud, lowered my weapon and was about to leave the room again.
From the corner of my eye I noticed lights flickering, as well as very silent whirring sounds. The MSU had power again, and cocked its head in my direction, the single eye glowing red, staring me down like a one-eyed demon from hell.
"Such a pity that poor Mr. McGregor wasn't able to quench your thirst for knowledge anymore..." the robot's voice addressed me in a soft female tone. It tried to sound comforting, but that was just the programming. The one speaking through it was definitley out to mock me.
"And mind me telling your name? You're obviously the bastard that caused the death of all these people here, or am I incorrect with that assumption?" I replied, turning around fully and aiming my weapon at the robot.
"You are correct my dear Commander Coragon, but don't fret. These people tried to prevent the inevitable, something that always happens to those not staying true to their vows. They knew the price and have been dealt with accordingly...besides, we wouldn't want you to suffer any damage to your precious head. You're way too valuable to be bruised in any way..."
"Oh yeah, is that so? Listen up you freak..."
"10246"
"What ?!"
"10246...that is the number of people that have died so far, creating you..."
My heart skipped a beat, and the next attempt to inhale oxygen seemed to take a eternity.
"But don't worry, that isn't the amount of people we had to dispose of to keep our little secret. The number shows that what you've become has been tried over the last 1000 years of human existence, failing every time. Until now..."
Regaining my ability to breathe once more, I stared at the robot's face.
"And what the hell am I, then ? What is that you did to me, and how did you do it anyways?"
Soft chuckling caressed my ears. I could've unloaded the whole magazine into the robot at that moment, but I kept my cool. For now.
"You are the next step in human evolution my dear Commander Coragon. Or more precisely, the next step of human evolution on the battlefield. I believe you already noticed our little test on you back in Qa'Wakana. I am disappointed to say that we still have to smooth the edges in certain areas of your brain, but the overall..."
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?" I screamed out loud.
Silence.
"We monitored you for a long time. Your ideals and actions made you a perfect specimen to work with. Honorable, obedient, willing to serve. As you were about to be blown apart by your fellow Wingmates, we put our plan into motion. Do you know how remLock masks work, Commander? When one of these is worn, in the event of the wearer being cast into the vacuum of space, the mask shoots a polyfibre cocoon around the wearer and begins a life support cycle. The latest version contains memnSomn software, placing the wearer into a state of suspended awareness to avoid the discomforting experience of being exposed to vacuum."
"Thanks for stating the obvious, get to the point!"
"We altered the memnSomn software so that it would send out wrong data, effectively convincing everyone that it would've a major malfunction, causing you to slip into a irreversible coma and finally death if no immediate actions would be taken. We had someone near the place of your execution, taking you on board, and bringing you to our closest Research facility, while dispatching a cloned version of you to Greeboski's Outpost. We eventually had you shipped there and replaced with the clone, and nobody noticed a thing. We still have your clone with us, in case there be any spare parts or organs needed, except the brain, naturally."
Silence, again. I needed time to digest all this. After a few more moments, my eyes focused again, staring holes into the MSU.
"Alright, so you made me into some type of super soldier..." I started again, being interrupted momentarily
"Not just any super soldier, Commander. You're the ultimate warrior, remembering every move, stance, attack and defense pattern of any type of close or armed combat that has been invented throughout history. Plus adding some other abilities that you can use to enhance your senses. Ain't it grand?"
"The only thing that'll be grand is when these fists are going to dislocate your jaw, permanently. Do us both a favor and tell me where you're hiding so I can give you a up-close and personal review just how good of a job you did on me..."
Soft female laughter echoed through the room.
"Commander, we know what you're capable of. Do you think we wouldn't have tested your abilities before putting you back into play? Of the aforementioned dead people, at least twenty were killed by yourself. Some beaten to death, others beheaded, shot to pieces, limbs ripped out...anything you can imagine. And it was a joy to watch!"
Twenty lives taken without reason, without knowledge that they existed. Twenty lives snuffed out, to serve in inhuman experiments. To kill in a War was one thing, when you knew the odds, when you were able to decide to stay and fight and die, or to run, desert and hide. But this?
"But enough for now, enjoy your time until we're ready to use you..."
"You're right, it's enough. Way then enough. I heard all I needed to hear, now you listen to me. I don't know who you are, but I'll find out eventually. And when I do, I hope you have an army of my clones ready to fight and die for you, because if not there is no place in this Galaxy or beyond where you could hide. You took everything from me that I had and replaced it with nothing a normal human being would ever want. For that, and the countless lives being taken, you will pay. With every drop of your blood, every broken bone. You will feel what it means to be on the receiving end, and I'll make sure you savor every second of it." I let out in a cold, controlled voice. As if stating the evening news.
More laughter.
"This conversation is finished" I said, and pulled the trigger, unloading a whole magazine into the MSU robot, until the laughter finally died off.
Standing there, I took several deep breaths, then dropped the weapon and the extra magazines. Making my way downstairs, my mind was set on the Data stick, CMDR Reykur and Veyder. They needed to listen, and help me decide what to do next. Or have me executed on the spot, for I was a ticking bomb that could go off any moment.
"I need to get laid sometime before I die..." suddenly popped into my mind. Great to have weird thoughts when you definitley need to focus on something more important, right?
To be continued...