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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Noah - 20. Chapter 20

Date: 6th April 2395
Location: New Moscow Academy


I lay on the rear of my Cutthroat, looking up at the trees above and listening to the gentle roar of the waterfall. I had been working recently on using my neural link and basic augmentations to remote control my fighter; I was now able to hold it in position with ease beneath me, maintaining its location 20 feet above the pool of water. I figured that if I did lose control, I wouldn’t have too far to fall and the water wouldn’t be too hard.

I had been maintaining its position quite easily with minimal effort, and had even managed to write a letter to my father from the position. It had only been a couple of days, but I felt that I had a lot to tell him. Being in another system, I was unable to initiate a live link to him so a letter was the only way we could speak, unless I were to return to Sol. The letter I had just written would be stored at the small waypoint station at the mouth of the wormhole and loaded onto one of the next message buoys, which are sent between systems periodically. Once the buoy docked at the far waypoint station, its contents would be downloaded and transmitted to their recipients.

“Would you look at that?” A voice from below called, “Showing off his alive-ness.”

Looking over the edge of the Mjolnir, I saw Lark and Larenko standing on the bank.

“He gets augmented and just has to show off at every opportunity.” Larenko said mockingly. As their DNA had not yet taken over from that of the null bodies they inhabited, they still had several months before they could be augmented.

“It’s not my fault that I’m just a better fighter than you.” I called back, spinning the ship around to face them and standing up, embarrassingly stumbling.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” Lark commented, looking around the swimming hole, lingering at the base of the waterfall thoughtfully. “How deep is it?”

“Deep enough,” I replied, understanding what he was thinking. Slowly and cautiously, I raised Mjolnir’s altitude until I was standing level with the top of the waterfall. Setting the computer to hold position I leapt off the side and into the cool, refreshing water below.

“Hey, what’s with the uniform?” Larenko asked, eyeing my shorts and short-sleeved shirt as I climbed onto the bank. They were both in the standard, full length uniform.

“It’s something Aiden came up with, I think.” I replied. I still wasn’t quite sure whether it was an official uniform or simply something that looked vaguely like one. Griff didn’t seem to mind it when he saw us both in them before, but then he wasn’t exactly obsessed with protocol.

“We’ll have to check the database for them next time we head into the jungle. I’m sweating like a pig in this.” Larenko commented before jumping into the water, surfacing a moment later with a long, relieved sigh. “Damn, that’s nice.”

Lark more reservedly waded into the pool before lunging into it, letting out a contented sigh. After a couple of minutes swimming around cooling off, he got out, headed over to the cliff face and began to climb like a pro. In record time, Lark was standing at the top of the waterfall, looking over with a smile. Taking a step back, he jumped cleanly from the edge, somersaulting and spinning before making a nearly perfect entry.

“Been a while since I did that.” He grinned upon surfacing. “My mum and I used to dive here in the ‘scape all the time. Haven’t done it in a couple of years, though. She’d never tell me where this place was; always said I’d find it myself.”

“Show off.” Larenko teased, dunking him from behind after a sneaky approach.

“Yeah, ‘cos climbing every tree you see isn’t showing off, is it?” Lark spluttered before diving under the surface, pulling Larenko down with him.

“Hey! Leave me alone! He’s the one we’re here for!” Larenko called upon surfacing, motioning to me.

“Yeah! Let’s play get the ‘livey!” Lark agreed as they began to swim to the shore. Before they could climb out, I called Mjolnir down next to me, leapt aboard and surfed the hull up to a position safe from the pair.

“There he goes again. That’s not very fair now, is it?” Larenko mocked.

“All is fair in love and war.” I shouted down from my safe vantage point, sitting on the fighter’s left arm and hanging my legs over the side.

“Oh really? Which is this, then?” He asked with a wink.

“War, of course.” I replied incredulously, “How could I ever love someone who had died so tragically?” I added with a grin.

“Lifeophobic!” He laughed back, “You’d best watch out, you’ll die some day!”

“Not if I can help it.” I called down. I just caught some movement in the corner of my eye, and looked around just in time to see Lark jumping from the cliff face to the right arm of my fighter. It took me by surprise and he stumbled as I adjusted the vessel’s thrust to compensate for his weight.

“En Garde!” He called, sequencing a daitō and holding it over the gap in the arms in a challenge.

“You do know that I came second in the tournament at school last year?” I warned him as I sequenced a shoto and tanto bo.

“Who d’ya think came first?” He grinned back, making an initial attack, which I blocked with my tanto bo while retaliating with my shoto.

Quickly, he contorted away and in doing so set himself up for another attack, which I barely dodged. In school, everyone was taught the basics of mêlée combat, using weapons derived from ancient oriental designs. The practice swords retained identical size and weight to the live blades, but were dull, though they could still hurt a lot. Later on in training, each student was encouraged to develop their own fighting style; while Lark had apparently chosen to use a single larger and more powerful weapon, I had chosen to use two smaller weapons in conjunction.

While I was able to evade or deflect his blows, with the gap between us I was unable to retaliate. After one particularly hard attack which I blocked, Lark stumbled slightly, giving me just enough time to jump over to the same arm. With the distance between us smaller, his long blade was less effective, as he had to swing it further, while my shorter blades were more efficient at blocking, and within two more attacks, I had landed a successful blow with my tanto bo to his femoral artery, which was considered a disabling blow.

“Pah, you’d never have gotten close enough to do that if I had my old body.” Lark complained, recycling his sword and sitting on the hull at the back of my fighter. “This one’s all lanky and out of proportion.” He held out his hand, looking at it as if it were someone else’s. Though it had been just a few days, the growth caused by the nanos both of the others had been injected with when cloned, their natural hair colours were beginning to show at the roots of their otherwise grey hair.

 

“You’ll grow into it in time.” I replied, slowly dropping the ship to ground level. “What are you two doing out here, anyway?”

“We were bored.” Larenko answered “Lark tracked you from your link. What are you doing here? A bit out of the way, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice and quiet out here, and great for swimming. Me and Aiden stumbled across it when we were exploring.”

“You and Aiden, eh? Spending some quality time alone in the forest, eh?” Larenko asked, insinuatingly with a wink. “Cute couple, don’tcha think Lark?” I rolled my eyes at the same time as Lark. He had told me that Larenko had a habit of occasionally thinking only between his legs. “What?” He demanded after a moment, “I would.”

“Larenko, you’d chase anything with two legs.” I replied with a sigh.

“And that’s not a solid requirement.” Lark added with a laugh.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta have some fun.” Larenko replied indignantly. “Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining the other night.” He poked Lark in the ribs.

“Maybe not, but I don’t come onto every person I walk past.”

“You don’t get anything if you don’t ask.” Larenko cheekily grinned, resulting in an exasperated sigh from both myself and Lark.

“What about you, Sven?” He asked, unusually using my name rather than my call sign, which, of late, everyone had been using. “You had any bed wrestling sessions recently?”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you? So far, I’ve either been up in the big black or recovering from a Griff-induced hangover. I’ve only managed to have the time to relax now…’sides, he’s a bit screwed up by finding that body.”

“Body?” Larenko asked excitedly. “Whose body? Where?”

“That would be mine.” A female voice replied from the wood line, causing Lark to jump and Larenko to quickly spin around and adopt a defensive posture. “Cadet Jessica Fisher.” She stepped from the shadows and, noticing our gold insignias, promptly snapped to attention. “Oh, ah, sirs.” Her uniform bore the grey bend of the Command division and the silver star of a regular Cadet. As 2nd Class Cadets, we were technically her superior officers, though were we the only people aboard a vessel, as a Command officer only one rank below us, she would still be the Commanding Officer and we her subordinates. Like Lark and Larenko a few days ago, she stood before us in a totally fresh null body. As yet, none of her own features had asserted themselves, so it was impossible to tell what she actually looked like herself.

“At ease, Cadet.” Larenko laughed, “’Sir,’ I think I could get used to that.”

“You’ll have to before long. In a few weeks, you’ll have your own wing of fresh young Cadets to teach.” I replied.

“God help them.” Lark added with a look of sympathy for whoever would be assigned to Larenko. In the Flight Academy, each Instructor would have four 2nd Class Cadets under their command, each of whom would be in charge of a wing of around five regular Cadets. The C2C’s would lead their cadets on flights and instruct them in the skills they possess, under the supervision of the instructor, who would only step in if the C2C were to instruct their cadets poorly or dangerously. Under most circumstances, the only direct contact a Cadet would have with the Instructor would be during the relatively few classroom lessons. This method of teaching ensured every graduating class of officers would possess a unique set of tactics and manoeuvres, alongside the standard ones, which would be taught mainly in the classroom. Unlike C2C’s, regular Cadets had to share a number of older Dagger class fighters, meaning only one C2C per instructor could have their wing airborne at a time. Competition naturally developed between instructors and C2C’s to be the best wing at their graduation. Though no competition has ever been officially recognised, it is considered an official coincidence that the Cadets of the highest placed wing would tend to scoop the most sought-after postings.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when my wing destroys yours in the trials.” Larenko scowled to both of us.

“So, Fisher, how’d you end up dead?” I asked, changing the subject. “We just found your body slumped against a wall.”

“I dunno. Last thing I remember is entering the cave, then waking up in the goo. You see anything else down there?”

“Nope, but we weren’t down there long. There was a damaged rebreather by you but nothing else; not even a belt.”

“I definitely had my belt on when I went down, I can remember that much.”

“Where is this place?” Larenko interrupted. “I wanna see it!”

“Later, maybe.” I replied before Fisher had a chance, causing Larenko to sulk. “Look, there’s not long until the sun goes down, and there’s no way you’ll find your way back through the jungle in the dark.”

“I suppose.” He relented, still sulking. Given his impulsiveness, it wouldn’t be long until he was thinking of something else and he’d likely forget within the hour.

“I’d like to come along when you go down, if that’s alright?” Fisher asked, “I want to know how I died.”

“Sure thing. We’ll send you a message when we head out.”

“What’re your plans for the evening, Jessica?” Larenko asked, comfortably walking up to her, causing Lark to roll his eyes to me. “I hear the bar’s not too shabby here.”

Dropping down to the bank and jumping off, I spun Mjolnir around and opened the canopy.

“Want a ride, Lark?” I offered, knowing that Larenko would likely take an age to get back to the facility if he were chatting to Fisher along the way.

“Thanks.” He replied with relief as I jumped up into the seat. He jumped up and sat on the footrest between my legs as I closed the canopy. By the time it was shut, Larenko and Fisher had vanished into the tree line. “What d’ya think his chances are with her?”

“If he doesn’t scare her off within five minutes? I dunno, there’s something about him that makes people loosen up.” I lifted the fighter through the thin canopy over the pool and spun around towards the Academy facility.

“That’s true. So what are your plans for the evening?”

“I should probably check in on Aiden. Then I was thinking of maybe going to the firing range. I hated small arms training back at school, but it’s actually pretty relaxing. Well, when the Marine running the range isn’t shouting at you, anyway.” I replied as we flew about 50 metres above the solid green carpet below. “Why? You coming on to me now?” I asked jokingly.

“Nah, it’s just that if Larenko spends the night out with Fisher, I got nothing else to do. Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure, just don’t be surprised if the Corporal goes psycho when you start shooting. I think he does it to everyone.” I lined Mjolnir up with the short runway clearing. Given the vertical flight abilities of the craft, a runway wasn’t strictly necessary, but it did give practice in controlling the craft at low speed in an atmosphere.

Reducing velocity to the minimum flight speed for the planet’s gravity, I gently dropped down until we were a couple of feet above the runway surface. Engaging the thrusters, I dropped the speed more and added a little reverse thrust, causing the craft to slow to nearly a stationary hover. Looking around, I spotted the ground marshal directing me over to the usual hangar where another was standing, waving me towards him. As I approached, he began walking backwards along a path to an empty bay. Following his path, I came to a halt over the bay and after turning 180 degrees, at his signal, lowered the landing struts. He confirmed that all four struts were lowered and locked before giving the signal to set down. Gently touching down, I powered down the engines and thrusters, then opened the canopy.

Jumping down after Lark, I used my neural link to shut down the ship’s computer systems and left the canopy open for emergency access.

“What the hell have you been doing?” The marshal asked as he climbed onto the fighter, seeing the muddy footprints all over the hull.

“Just a little…mêlée practice.” I grinned back.

“Bloody pilots.” He muttered, beckoning over a couple more ground crew with cleaning and maintenance gear.

“Hey, could you do me a favour sometime?” Lark asked as we left the hangar, emerging into the heavy rain.

“What do you need?”

“I’m working on a little add-on for fighters and shuttles. I think it’s about ready for testing.”

“What is it?” I asked, intrigued. Lark had already tinkered with most systems aboard our fighters. I didn’t know he was making things for them too.

“You’ll see.” He grinned widely. “I’ll contact you in the morning.”

I shook my head as we stepped inside the residential block, shaking the water from my hair. We may have only been in the rain for a few moments, but it was enough to thoroughly drench us.

When we reached it, the room I shared with Aiden was empty; the usual mess strewn over his side, while mine still looked pretty bare; only a few holopads and the unfinished Frigate model on my desk.

“Guess he’s feeling better.” Lark commented.

“He’s at the firing range.” I said, pinging his neural link. “Two birds with one stone, c’mon.” I led the way through the residential block, back outside past the hangar and teaching block and into the Marine Barracks. Normally, the barracks would be packed with cadets and instructors; they were about a third of the size of the residential block but still housed the same number of cadets, as well as the armouries, firing range and drill halls. Where other cadets shared a room with one other person, Marine cadets were packed into dormitories.

The sound of rifle fire echoed down the corridor as we approached the range. Entering, I saw Aiden in one of the stalls with his rifle, rapidly firing down the range while Corporal Redfern looked on behind him, smiling.

“I think you missed your calling, Marshall,” he commented as Aiden inserted another Omni cell into the rifle. “Aha, what do we have here, then?” He asked when he noticed us approaching.

“Evening, Corporal.” I greeted him, standing halfway to attention. Marine NCOs hated to be treated as officers, but also liked recognition of their rank. “Do you have any space on the range?” Aiden was the only other person on the range, meaning there were around 20 firing stalls available, but it was still the Corporal’s range.

“You can take up 15, Jones.” He signalled me over to a stall a couple down from Aiden before turning to Lark. “And you are?”

“Cadet 2nd Class Lark, Corporal.” Lark replied, standing as I had.

“I’m Corporal Redfern and this is my range. While you are here…” He started with the same speech he had given me when I had first come here. Walking over to the stall, I drew the sidearm still holstered on my tool belt and took a few shots at the target.

Happily after checking the target, all the shots had landed well within the target zone. Feeling confident, I repeated the process several times, each time, the shots landing more and more tightly grouped. I was just about to start shooting for the seventh time, when the target vanished and reappeared further down the range.

“No point shooting a target at close range when you’re getting that sort of grouping.” The Corporal commented before stepping back to observe.

Opening fire, I saw each shot sail cleanly into the target. After ten rounds, I checked the target, amazed that the grouping was almost as good as at the closer range.

“Do that again.” Redfern said, resetting the target and watching closely. Again, I fired ten rounds and the marked target appeared in front of us, all ten shots within the two top scoring rings. Humming, he reset the target and sequenced a rifle. “Try with that.”

I had never really held a rifle before, let along shot one. Hoisting the surprisingly heavy rifle into my shoulder, I looked down the sights and fired ten shots.

“Something you haven’t told me, Cadet?” He commented while looking over the target, the centre now missing entirely. “Yesterday you could barely shoot straight; now…I’ve seen graduating Marine cadets that couldn’t shoot that well. I’m a damned good teacher, but I’m not that good.”

“I’ve never held a rifle before.” I replied, resetting the target and firing again, producing identical results.

“You sure about that?” He asked, taking the rifle and firing ten shots himself, his target coming back slightly worse than mine. “You’ve not been back here when Sergeant Spezlava or Sergeant Li have been on duty? Put in some more practice?”

“Nope.” I replied, just as puzzled.

“I wonder….” He muttered, resequencing the rifle. When he handed it back to me, the sight had changed from an unmagnified holosight to an integrated scope and the barrel & fore end had been considerably lengthened. In the distance, I barely saw the target appear. “Try that.”

Looking through the scope, I tried to put the crosshair over the target, but every tiny movement I made threw it off. Relaxing for a moment I looked down the sight, which now seemed to have a very slight red tinge. As I exhaled, I experienced a moment of clarity; the crosshair settled on the target and I felt comfortable. Gently squeezing the trigger, I watched through the scope as the shimmering blue plasma shard flew, seemingly very slowly, towards the target.

Taking my eye away, I looked back to the Corporal, who was standing with his mouth open, viewing the target via his neural link. When he moved it to the front, I saw a single hit, directly in the centre of the bull’s-eye. The shot was absolutely perfect, dead centre.

“Never held a rifle?” He asked again, disbelievingly and in awe.

“Never…” I was mesmerised by the hole in the target.

Behind him, Lark was looking just as awestruck and Aiden had also appeared, with an odd, unreadable expression.

“Thor? What the hell?” Lark finally commented. I stared alternately between the target and the rifle in my hands.

“What augs do you have?” Redfern asked after a few moments.

“Just the basics.” I replied. As far as I knew, that is all that had been installed. Since they were first mentioned, I had heard nothing of the ‘extra’ augs I was supposed to get, and simply assumed they would be installed once the basics had fully taken hold.

“Then there is something very…odd with you….” He said, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion in his stare.

“What was with that blue glow? When you were aiming, you seemed to turn blue for just a couple of seconds.” Lark stated.

“I don’t know; I didn’t see anything.”

“Did things look red?” Aiden asked cautiously, probing for an answer he already knew.

“A little maybe, how did you know? Do you know what’s going on?” I demanded.

Before he could answer, both the Corporal and Lark collapsed to the ground, unconscious, and in the entrance to the range stood a figure in a dark green metallic armour, virtually identical to the one I had seen in my ‘dream’ after the interrogation a few days ago, albeit in a different colour. The armour covered the figure from head to foot as a single solid section, but as it walked the armour flexed like a fabric.

“I hope this is important, Cadet.” The figure said authoritatively, approaching Aiden.

“Cadet Jones just shifted, while showing extraordinary firearms proficiency. Up until yesterday, he had never scored above a minimal passing grade during schooling. It appears he is…unaware of the abilities.” He replied, staring oddly at me all the time.

“Mister Jones, what augmentations are you equipped with?” The figure asked, turning to me.

I began to answer, but then realised that the figure was clearly not wearing any M uniform, nor had it identified and confirmed itself as cleared for any information or even authorised in its presence here. According to the neural link, it wasn’t even standing in front of me. I struggled to shake off my confusion and act with pure protocol.

“Identify yourself,” I demanded, taking aim with the rifle on the figure. “You do not wear a recognised uniform and you aren’t registered on the link. If you do not identify yourself immediately, I will be forced to take action.” I tried to sound threatening and confident, but I’m sure I barely managed to squeak it out.

For several seconds, the figure stood motionless, while I continued to aim the rifle at it, until suddenly I received a burst of data over the neural link. I couldn’t understand the majority of it; for some reason it was mostly encrypted, but even with the only understandable part containing huge gaps and little actual information, something in it, somewhere and somehow made me believe that the figure had full authorisation to do whatever it pleased.

“Cadet? Your augs?” It repeated.

“Seventh revision basic architecture.” I replied, lowering the rifle. I still didn’t know who the figure was or what exact level of authorisation it possessed, but I just knew that it was authorised.

“Anything else?” It asked, inferring that I could be holding back.

“No. The basics were only installed a couple of days ago on Europa. They’re not fully established yet.”

“You are mistaken, Mister Jones, though it seems you are unaware. I am going to probe your mind. You may not know what I am looking for, but it is in there. You know I am authorised to do this; do not resist.” It stated, unmoving. It is possible for those with a certain augmentation to search any other’s mind for information, but the augmentation was usually restricted to very high ranking intelligence officers.

From the location of my neural link, a warm buzzing sensation spread throughout my head, I could feel something unusual, a sensation I couldn’t describe, similar to that of being watched, but so much deeper. After a few seconds, the sensation and buzzing suddenly vanished and I felt lightheaded. Stumbling backwards, I was caught by Aiden, who had, unbeknownst to me, moved into position behind me.

The figure stood motionless for several minutes as Aiden guided me into a sitting position on the floor. I was still feeling lightheaded and slightly detached.

“It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” Aiden asked rhetorically with a knowing smile. “He did the same to me when I was selected.”

“Selected?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. “For what?”

“You really don’t remember anything, do you? The Phoenix Corps? The extra augs? Nothing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why would your handler blank your memories?”

“Handler? What are you talking about? I don’t know any of this!” I began to get a little frustrated.

“It is highly unusual.” The figure answered. “Your handler is en route. He will explain more.” It stumbled slightly when it tried to move, seeming to surprise itself.

“Are you alright?” Aiden asked, leaving me and supporting the figure.

“I am experiencing some sort of feedback from Cadet Jones’ mind. I have never experienced anything like….” It was cut off by a figure seeming to appear from nowhere, in identical armour but coloured blood red.

“The cadet has had direct and prolonged contact with an Angel.” The figure explained, stepping towards the stooping figure and placing a finger behind where the figure’s ear should be. “It appears to have imprinted itself on his mind and attacks any who try to interfere. I suffered the same system failure after I probed him. I’ll escort you back to base and you can reformat.”

“Angel? Imprinted? Can someone just tell me what is going on here? Please!” I asked with no small amount of anger and frustration.

“You are Cadet 2nd Class Sven ‘Thor’ Jones. You are a member of the Flight Academy, New Moscow, Rossiya system. You are also a level 1 recruit into the Phoenix Corps, the M Military Special Forces. In addition to your basic augmentations, you have been equipped with a personal temporal distortion device and advanced combat package. After installation, I attempted to instruct you in their operation, but the Angel which seems to have chosen your mind in which to reside prevented me from completing a link to transfer the experience; I was left with no choice other than wiping your memory of the experience until a countermeasure to the Angel’s influence could be found.”

“I still don’t…” I began, but was cut off by the red armoured figure.

“It appears that although I disabled the augs, they have somehow been reactivated and subconsciously operated; how, I do not know. We also do not know how or why the Angel imprinted onto you. We suspect it happened either during your first encounter or during the apparent rescue when you were transported to Europa; either way, it appears to be occupying the unused area of your brain.”

I was trying to take everything in, and somewhere in my mind something was telling me that all this was true, but I just couldn’t make sense of it.

“Why am I a recruit for this Corps? Did I agree? What about these augs? What now?” I was spewing questions as they came to me.

“You accepted membership after installation of your basic augmentations. You were recruited due to your exceptional skill, lifting you beyond that of even a normal Cadet 2nd Class. In addition to your studies at the Academy, I will also personally handle you on the roles and techniques of the Phoenix. As the Angel is clearly aware of any attempted intrusion, I do not believe I will be able to disable your augmentations or alter your memories again, so they will remain active. Practice their usage in private. Do not reveal their existence to anyone. Cadet Lark and Corporal Redfern will have their memories altered to cover what happened here. As far as they are concerned, nothing out of the ordinary will have happened today. A copy of the events they will recall will be copied to you, though you will also remember the true events. Under most circumstances, no two recruits would ever know of each other’s membership, however, as we are unable to erase your knowledge of Cadet Marshall’s status, we will make an exception. You are also authorised to practice using your augmentations together; however, we must stress that nobody else must be allowed to see. The more often a person views something, the harder it is to remove it from their memory entirely.”

“Understood.” Aiden affirmed, though he had likely been briefed similarly before.

“OK.” I added, still a little uncertain of the whole thing.

“Mister Marshall, I assume you are basically adept at controlling your augs?” The figure asked, turning to Aiden.

“Yes, sir.”

“I am needed elsewhere. Do you have any objection to instructing Mister Jones in their basic operation?”

“No, sir.”

The figure turned back to me, “Mister Jones, I will return in the next couple of days to brief you more fully. If you urgently need to contact me before that, ping this identity five times in succession.” It transmitted the ID Number to a Crewman R. L. Small, an identity which I assumed was either linked to another system or simply used as a proxy.

After lifting the weary-looking green armoured figure and supporting it, the red figure led them both over to the wall where both vanished.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Aiden quickly said to me, as the Corporal and Lark robotically stood; Lark moving to a booth and the Corporal taking up position behind him as if giving him instructions. “Ten seconds until they wake up, get into a position by the booth and don’t shoot too well; throw a few rounds off for now.”

Obediently, I took up position in the booth I had previously been using, reset the target and took a couple of shots, purposely firing off target just as the Corporal awoke, mid-rant.

Copyright © 2011 Harrod200; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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