The pod blazed its engines until the on-board computer recognized it was in space and cut the engines. Nearby rescue craft moved in and spotted the lieutenant holding on to the pod. The craft latched onto the pod and dragged it into the hanger of the nearby command ship. Once inside the hanger, the body of the lieutenant fell to the floor and he opened his helmet to the warm invitation of the on-board atmosphere. Medical personal rushed to him and the pod. Leadly walked to the lieutenant and offered his congratulations on a job well done.
Watson and his troopers rushed the hanger. Knight and Malloy surrounded the pod to insure New Blood was alright. The medical officer reassured them that besides some shock, she was fine. “Sergeant Watson,” Leadly sounded, “Gather your troopers in the briefing room. You need debriefing for your new assignment. We are going to keep you with Lieutenant Gunthix.
II
The troopers filed into the room quietly. Rider was absent, but Paterson was wheeled in by King. New Blood had a monitor attached to her wrist to insure she wouldn’t go back into shock, but she felt fine. The whole squad felt great to be out of their armor and back into their much more comfortable jumpsuits. Watson sat down, relieved that no one died and that Rider was set to make a full recovery. The lieutenant was strangely absent. When Watson inquired into his condition, he was stonewalled by secrecy. He didn’t even recognize the medical personnel that were checking on him in the hanger.
Knight stood up in front of the troop. “I don’t know about this unit, but any other unit would believe that your blood is good. What do you all think?” She spoke to New Blood, but she really wanted the approval of the rest of the trooper squad.
“I agree Knight; I think her blood is good,” agreed Hudson, “What’s your name again, New Blood?”
Knight withdrew a small knife and cut into New Blood's arm, leaving a wide cut in her suit and a small trickle of blood. New Blood reveled in the ritual and her fortune. She recalled that some New Bloods were forced with their moniker for several missions. Just the fact that she was being accepted after her first combat shock trooper mission was astounding, especially after the fiasco of her falling off the tower. “It---It’s Bishop,” she stammered.
“Well, see here,” chimed Hudson, “I guess we’ll call you Bishop.” Members of the squad surrounded her with congratulations. Watson felt that it was good to celebrate. He recalled when his blood was fresh to a squad. He cringed.
During the celebration, Major Leadly entered the room. Watson eyed him and was about to stand when the major waved his hand. Even the major felt that the acceptance of a new member into its own was something important. After a few moments of celebration, the major cleared his throat. The squad members took their seats and sat with full attention.
“First and foremost, congratulations on a job well done. You have done an amazing job on your raid. Now on to the impending reason behind me dragging you back into the briefing room before some decent and well deserved rack time.” Hearing that told Watson that the major had done time as a trooper. Every shock trooper could smell one of their own. “Your unit is being conscripted into a new mission. Your squad will be permanently attached to the Lariot Program.”
Watson interrupted, “What’s the Lariot Program, Major? I’ve never of it.”
“That’s a good thing,” answered the Major, “as the Lariot Program is a secret program. The lieutenant is one of the shining gems of the program.” An image appeared on screen of the lieutenant, flanked by two more. “The Lieutenant is known as Gunthix. The other two in the image are Styx and Charon. They are super soldiers. Genetically engineered and trained to be absolute killing machines. Your mission, aside from the obvious objective, was to determine if it was effective to pair one with a squad. You performed admirably. This battleship, along with escorts, is now moving toward home space. You will be sent to the space station Hephaestus, where you will receive augmented armor and polishing of some of your less used skills.”
The gravity of the new information was chilling. There were rumors of such super soldiers, sent into well-equipped fortresses and killing everyone. Everyone assumed it was a fictitious war story. The fact that they were being attached to such an outfit led to mixed feelings. Some felt in awe of such an opportunity, others felt that it was too much.
“Can we say no?” asked Malloy.
The major chuckled, “Of course you can say no. But if you wish to continue your military career in any form, it’ll involve you stuck on some remote outpost.” The statement silenced any opposition.
“What kind of missions will we be tasked for?” asked Hudson. If he was going to be part of the best, the warrior wanted to know what the best did.
“Various missions.” answered the major. “Whatever we need. If there are no more questions, you are dismissed.” There were none. The major exited the room and the squad looked at one another. The only unanimous feeling was celebration.
Watson quelled their queries. “Rack time and whatever you need. Unless called, I don’t want to see any of you until we make it to home space. Dismissed.” The squad left the room, but Watson stayed. He needed to think. Like any other trooper, he loved a good challenge. Would it be so wrong to bring more honor to his name? He didn’t think it would hurt. He had an obligation to his troopers, but first he needed to check on Rider.
***
Bishop wanted a shower more than a drink. Most of the other troopers were already in the mess hall celebrating. She would join them eventually, but a shower was what she wanted. In the locker room, she thought about what her squad mates had told her. They told her about the fall and the fight for her life. Disrobing her flight suit, she walked to the showers to discover they were already on. She walked lightly into the shower, thinking that if anyone was already in the shower, they probably didn’t want to be discovered or disturbed.
In the center of the showers she saw her savior. He was sitting in a meditative stance with his eyes closed. She studied his body, observing that this obviously wasn’t his first mission. He had several scars from bullets and blades that didn't detract from his beauty. She tiptoed past him, determined not to disturb him.
***
After several weeks of travel, the battleship eventually made it to home space. A battleship isn’t fast. It was never meant to be. It was made to bring the Empire’s war to those that needed it with powerful shields and its four anti-ship cannons and a plethora of other weapons. The squad never saw much of Gunthix. Bishop discovered him on random occasions, meditating in the shower, and she wished they could carry out their love affair. She never saw him otherwise; no one even knew where he slept. They didn’t even know if he did sleep. Knight was certain he didn't.
The space station Hephaestus was massive. It had a massive ball at its center, with six large balls at each axis. Connecting each ball to the center was a strong support strut. No one within the squad had ever seen a space station that large before. They were called to muster in the hanger for shuttling over to the ship.
“Good morning troopers,” greeted Major Leadly. “I don’t feel I need to tell you, but it is strict policy that I tell you that no one is to mention this tiny little place.”
The squad remained quiet, unsure whether to agree or laugh. Gunthix had joined them for the muster, the first time anyone but Bishop had seen them since the mission.
Rider strolled over to Gunthix, “It’s good to see you again. Where have you been hiding?” Gunthix thought for a moment then boarded the shuttle. “Well then,” sneered Rider, “I guess it’s time we board the shuttle and blast off into the unknown.”
The shuttle ride was short but full of animated discussion. Several members of the squad were busy staring out the windows and estimating various parameters surrounding the space station. “I bet there are fifty thousand people working on that thing and that it took decades to build,” piped Hudson.
“You’re wrong,” answered Patterson. “It took less than a decade to build, and it?
??s mostly empty space inside. It doesn’t even have a green deck to support that many people.”
King laughed and added, “I bet we will all find out when we get inside.”
The shuttle docked and the squad disembarked. They were greeted by two scientists. “Greetings,” said one. He stepped forward and shook each one of their hands. “I am chief scientist Curk. I will be in charge of your training. I’m going to make you as magnificent as the Lariot Program. If you will follow me.” The squad followed without commenting as he lead them into a door and off into the depths of the station. Gunthix stayed and walked up to the other scientist.
He quickly dropped to one knee and knelt before her. “Scientist Cylos, it is good to see you again.” The scientist quickly urged him up by the shoulders and hugged him.
“It’s good to see you again. You have brought great honor upon me.” They began walking toward another door as they spoke. “I hear you have been greatly successful in your missions. Your sisters have done equally well.” Gunthix sighed and looked at all the projects that underway throughout the station. Cylos continued, “Curk has the powerful notion that he can train soldiers to become your equal. I disagree. How can anyone train someone that’s already been trained? But I have better ideas and bigger plans for you. What’s wrong, my son?” He had stopped at a window.
“Ah, yes, one of the hopeful ideas to create an equal. They are designing an exo-suit that will give a regular Guntherian your strength and reflex. I think it’s ugly.” Gunthix stared at it deeply. He questioned whether a soldier should mesh with a machine in combat. She urged him on lightly. After a short and quiet walk, they were inside her office. “Please, sit down.” The room had chairs, but it also had cushions on the floor. Gunthix felt more comfortable sitting in on a cushion and she joined him.
“I need to tell you something important.” Gunthix stared at her intently. Scientist Cylos sighed, and set her hand on his knee. “I need to start with your story. And like any story, there is a starting place. Several decades ago, it was decided that our regular military, as strong as it is, wasn’t enough. We took inspiration where no one else would. We thought of the gods as real and envisioned you as such.” She took a breath and waited for a moment, studying Gunthix as he took this in. “Questions were raised as how to indoctrinate you. Do we make you unflinching killing machines or do we make you individuals. Moral obligations arose from both sides. If we made you a machine, would you make the best decisions in accomplishing the mission? If we made you an individual, would you give loyalty to the Empire? I decided on a middle ground. You would be indoctrinated with an unflinching loyalty to the Empire. You would do anything that is asked of you in service to the Empire, in your own way.”
Gunthix blinked several times at hearing this. He asked himself at what ends would he go for the Empire and in service of her. He thought it through and decided he would do whatever it took to insure her supremacy. He spoke gently, “I would do anything to insure the mission and the success of the Empire.”
Scientist Cylos sighed again. “I know. You are different, however. While Styx and Charon will do it without question, you weigh each outcome. Above all, you have the ability to choose and I'm certain that you will choose what will insure the survival of the Empire above all else.”
He stared at her without blinking. “I tell you all of this because the future has changed. Although the initial Lariot Program was, mathematically, a huge failure, the handful of you that survived was an amazing success. As I feel like a mother to each of you, I am terribly attached you. The future is different. They’ve decided that you will be cloned, re-engineered, and then mass produced. Unlike you, however, they will be machines.” She reached up and touched his cheek in a motherly way.
“Don’t worry.” She continued, “I have great hopes for you. Now on to the business of your new squad. How do you feel about them?” He pondered for a few moments and recalled the mission, the squad, and Bishop.
“Shock Trooper Rho Squad is a battle-hardened squad. Sergeant Watson is an outstanding leader, but he is cold. His previous missions have turned him into an excellent commander. The unit cohesion was excellent on the mission. The weapons you designed for me performed well, but they lacked the firepower I needed,” he spoke methodically.
“Ah, I suspected as much,” she answered easily, “We will have to talk to the technicians about that.”
Gunthix nodded and spoke again, “It almost happened again. A bombing run damaged the complex's energy storage units. They exploded, distracted the squad, and a trooper fell off the roof.”
Scientist Cylos's eyes widened at his story.
“I raced off the roof to save her,” he continued, “After I prevented her death from falling, they denied sending a lancer for retrieval.”
“What did Major Leadly do?” she asked slowly.
“He deployed a bounce pod that saved her. I placed her inside, held on to the side, and rode the pod into space. After saving her, we met again in the showers,” he ended slowly. Scientist Cylos eyed him carefully, holding back a smile.
After hearing his story, Scientist Cylos responded. “Let’s meditate for a short time then eat dinner. I have some great ideas for a new suit.” He resumed a meditative stance and they meditated together for a short time.
***
“After reading through everyone's file, we couldn't possibly have gotten anyone that is better qualified,” Scientist Curk began on a happy note, “Are there any questions for me before I begin the rules of the facility?”
Members of the squad looked at one another for a brief moment before Hudson spoke, “Who or what is Gunthix?”
The scientist hesitated before he chuckled, “Information on him is very guarded and limited. What I do know, I can tell you. From my understanding, he has been created from so-called 'perfect genetic material' that is neither purely Guntherian or Belthonian.”
Hudson sighed before asking another question, “What do you mean by that? What is 'perfect'?”
“I don't know,” the scientist responded quickly, “I don't know because that information is either sealed or non-existent.”
Watson cleared his throat and asked a new question, “I've never seen a combat style like his before.”
“What do you mean by that?” Scientist Curk asked impatiently.
“It was... I don't know. It was flashy. He did a bunch of acrobatic moves that I've never seen before. Do you know why or is that non-existent too?”
“From the information I was explained, he was instructed in several difference combat techniques, including extinct or removed races.”
“And that one?”
“A modified version of the Ixil blade techniques,” he ended the question.
“I have a question,” asked Bishop quietly, “How old is he?” Everyone in the room gave Bishop a perplexed look. She responded with a shrug, “It's a valid question.”
Scientist Curk pursed his lips and began pressing several buttons on a data-pad. “Let us see here,” he said as he continued, “Ten long-cycles in his tank. Five long-cycles of training and testing. That would put him at seventeen long-cycles.”
“What!” exclaimed Knight, “How can he only be 17. He looks at least 30.”
“Biologically he is closer to that,” responded the annoyed scientist, “They aged him while he was being developed.”
“How?”
“I don't know. It was neither my project nor is it very important,” he ended with an angry tone. Scientist Curk waited for another seemingly irrelevant question. Silence filled the room for a few moments before he cleared his throat and begin his prepared speech. “The most important rule of this station: the only striped doors you may enter are the green striped doors.”
***
Watson and his squad received some of the best training they had ever had since their time training to become Shock Troopers. Their training focused on free-fall and zero gravity combat, stealth doctr
ine, and even immersed them into fighting with a blade. The squad received augmented armor, near equivalent to the armor they had seen Gunthix wear. Streamlined and personalized, it made them feel stronger as if they could take on the universe.
A few full-cycles into their training, they were introduced to the beautiful Styx and Charon. Charon was quiet and reserved, tall and well-trimmed, and had a look as if even Death itself was afraid of her. Styx, however, was something entirely different. She was loud, short tempered, and almost alcoholic. Where Charon was tall, Styx was average height, but she was always jumping around so no one was sure of her exact height. Both of them reminded the squad of their mission with him, and remarked on the few similarities in combat. Unlike Gunthix, however, they spent a lot of time with the squad. Bishop finally asked why over chow one day.
“Well,” leaned back Styx, “we’re all different, with our own little quirks and specialties. While even Charon here will sit and talk with you, he is never interested in anything. It’s like he is never interested in anything, not even when he’s fighting.”
Bishop played with the remainder of her meal thinking over what was said. Charon leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry. As much as he’s not there, he is just as much there.” Hudson chimed in, “I don’t care where he is as long as he has our back. He’s pretty good.”
Styx got jealous. “If you think he is good, you should see me with blades.”
Hudson laughed for a moment and asked, “How old are you, Styx?”