Memory Terminal Classification Omega Alpha KED: Begin Upload
So I’m Ked. Ked Davras. Ked isn’t my real name, but it’s what I applied to the Academy as and it’s what everyone calls me. Anyways, it’s been a pretty exciting day. First, during graduation, I thought I was going to . . . Never mind. I should just show you.
I woke up, the holo-clock projected on my bedside beeping. I waved my hand over it lazily. The incessant beeping stopped, and I rolled back over. I didn’t particularly want to get out of bed, but duty calls. I ran my hand over the light stubble on my chin and groaned. If I wanted to be on time today, I had better get up now.
My bare feet touched the soft carpet of my dormitory floor. In the Academy, our rooms were small, but functional. I stretched, threw off the tight shirt I wore to bed, and stepped into the shower compartment next to my sink. After drawing the curtain closed, a series of cleansing chemicals stripped my body of impurities and left me feeling invigorated. Stepping out of the shower completely dry, I hastily ran a razor over my face, cutting my lip in the process. I checked my face in the mirror. Dark blue eyes stared back at me. My hair, as always, was cut close to my skull, and needed no changes. I patched up my lip with a small bandage and went for my closet, where I pulled out my standard uniform – the Academy’s standard – and put it on. I zipped up the synthetic leather tunic and made sure everything was in order. Black boots, matching pants, check check, I was ready for the day.
I left my chamber and made for the mess hall. Footsteps behind me quickly approached, belonging to Drek Bemirk, my best friend at the Academy. He clapped me on the back, the contact of skin and leather creating a smack that echoed through the mostly-empty hallway.
“Morning,” he said casually, his long hair trailing behind him. Usually he kept it in a tight bun, but he obviously overslept by a few minutes. The usually detailed intricate designs on the shaved sides of his head were also looking a bit blurry, another testament to his late sleeping. “Ready?”
I nodded. Today was Judgement Day. Every Academy trainee was tested today, and those who passed moved on as part of the Jetstream Agency, the patrol of the galaxy and the keepers of the law. Every trainee had his or her own aspirations. Some wished to join Omicron Division, a group of highly-trained researchers and the source of new technologies for the Jetstream Agency. Some wanted to join Psi, the Agents with otherworldly powers. Even others dreamed of a life with Delta Ops, the Special Elite Assassination designation of Jetstream. Personally, I wanted to join Alpha Squad, the pride of the Agency. My sister Lira was part of Alpha Squad, and if I were ever to prove that I was better than her jerk boyfriend Dyron, it would be in Alpha Squad.
Drek and I hit the mess hall and got our breakfast. We sat down at a table together and Drek took an experimental bite of the synthetic egg casserole that the cooking staff had prepared for us. After pronouncing it safe to eat, we dug in and devoured our breakfast. We would need all the strength we could get today. Over the intercom, a smooth female voice casually directed,
“All trainees, please report to your standard Evaluation Rooms”. On cue, Drek and I ceased eating and stood up. All around us, the cadets in the Mess Hall were doing the same thing. It was time for our Evaluation. Drek and I left the hall, making our way towards the Eval block. We stopped outside the A/B room, which Drek reported to for his regular training. He looked me in the eye, then stuck his hand out to shake. I took it firmly and shook his hand.
“Good luck.” He turned and entered his room, leaving me standing still in the hallway full of rushing trainees reporting to their respective rooms. I spun on my heel and made for my room.
I stopped outside the C/D Evaluation Room, staring at the blank door. I took a deep breath, slowing the tempo of my racing heart, and pushed the door open. Completely calm, I walked to the circular arrangement of chairs in the center of the room, where dozens of others already sat. I slid into a chair next to one of my standard training partners: Wil Darlet. He ran a hand through his spiky blue hair and grinned at me.
“You ready for this, kid?” he asked me, winking at one of the girls across the circle. He constantly referred to me as ‘kid’, even though we were the same age. His good looks and natural talent may have made him a celebrity in everyone else’s eyes, but in mine, he remained a supercilious jerk.
“Not as ready as you,” I replied, forcing myself to smile. Wil wasn’t going to make me lose my cool. Not today. The room was almost filled at this point, and the lights shut off suddenly. Standard training procedure. A hologram of the Academy insignia filled the center of the room and a gentle male voice played.
“Welcome to your Evaluation,” the voice said as the hologram shifted to a face, “Today’s testing will be quite similar to those you have previously experienced. I will run you through your briefing and team assignments before the evaluation phase starts.” The hologram blinked once and turned into a fortified structure, which spun slowly, displaying the whole building to the trainees.
“Your target is a hostage who is being held in this facility. The hostage’s family is of one of the Eldest Families, and will reward you greatly for their return. The target has been locked down by slavers who will kill you and their hostage on sight. A copy of this hologram containing real-time footage is being transferred to your Technicians and their consoles. Your directive is to rescue the hostage and neutralize as many of the slavers as you can. The first team to bring back the hostage safely immediately qualifies. Your team assignments are as follows.” A series of numbers rolled down the screen, separated into groupings of five. Each of the numbers was a numeric designation for each of the students. I checked my assignment. I was designated as squad leader, which was a relief. I wasn’t too bad at combat, if I say so myself, but my real talent was in leading others. Wil was one of my supporting fighters, and while I didn’t have Drek by my side as technician, I managed to score one of the best-ranked that I could have.
“Looks like we’re together, Davras.” I hated it when people called me by my last name. It reminded me that I wasn’t the first of my family to come through the Academy, and I already had something to prove against my sister without the constant reminder of her achievements.
“Please report to the Prep Room,” the voice instructed calmly, “You will have fifteen minutes to prepare.” Chairs scraped across the floor as students rushed to the Prep Room. Wil and I slipped through the hordes of people to get to the Prep Room, where we met the rest of our team. Rett Cade, our other assigned fighter, tipped his signature wide-brimmed hat to us and reached behind him to grab a pair of bolt guns. After sticking the guns under his arm, Rett reached into his hat band and pulled out two custom-made extended clips. He wasn’t the most up-and-close guy to have in my team, but his accuracy was good enough. As he clicked the magazines into place, Rett casually inquired,
“Where’s the rest of our team?” Wil gave a shrug before reaching between two racks of assorted weapons and pulled out his favorite box: the miscellaneous items bin. He selected a nasty-looking leather glove with inch long spikes on the knuckles and kissed it before donning it and curling his fingers into a fist.
“Doesn’t really matter, does it? None of us are planning on getting killed, and we can find our way without a Tech.” As if on cue, a scuffle ensued in the crowd of people behind Ked and the three turned. A lanky girl burst through the wall of bodies, apologizing profusely. Next to Rett, a short boy crawled under the feet of the passing people and popped up, clutching a leather satchel tightly.
“Ah,” I remarked lightly, “There’s our team.”
The girl, Jaymie Cynatt, was well-known, both for her forgetful, scatterbrained personality outside the field and her masterful control of all variables involved during training exercises. I didn’t know the boy, Ryang Devrolo, but from his tribal look, I could tell that the healer would prove effective should anything go wrong.
“Four operatives?” Wil asked, plucking a dagger from the miscellaneous bin and swiping the air in front of him. “Only four?”
“Five,” Jaymie corrected, “One leader, two fighters, a medic, and me.”
“Exactly,” Wil sneered, “Four. And you.” Ryang spun on him and snarled,
“Oh, eat a -”
“Boys!” I snapped. Now was not the time to start a fight. “This is the most important day or your lives,” I said, calming myself, “Are you going to ruin it over a couple of insults? You can lazerbox each other after Eval and get it over with.” I stared both of them down, daring them to challenge me. Luckily, neither did. Wil huffed and strapped his glove tighter, while Ryang bared his filed teeth and flipped open his bag. I released the breath I had been holding and reached behind me to grab a pair of short-bladed dueling swords from the rack. Just then, the voice of their director came over the intercom.
“Would all Technicians please report to the Control Booth? And would their teams please report to the Launch Room?” Rett clacked his guns together, snapping the rest of the team to attention.
“We gonna go, or we just gonna stand ’round here with our thumbs up our -”
“Thank you, Rett,” I interrupted, “Lead the way, Wil?”
“Gladly, Dav.” Wil scoffed, then pushed a hole in the crowd of people and gestured for us to follow.
Rett tossed one of his guns up in the air, watching fall end over end before catching the clip in his hand. He weighed it from hand to hand, tossed it in the air again, then caught it in the other hand.
“Geez, when’s this thing gonna go off?” he complained, “Feels like it’s been forever.” After we reported to the Launch Room, our Directors warped us to a platform above our target planet. Warp technology was extremely new and advanced, though, so they could only get us in the general area. There was one large holding cell from which we split groups of no more than ten for our journey down to the surface. We shared the trip down with one other group, and now waited just outside the complex.
“It’s been approximately four and a half minutes,” Jaymie said in our ears. In the control room, she was fed information that she could choose to relay to us or not. It was one of the main jobs of a Tech, besides keeping us company when we split up.
“My Tech says nearly five minutes,” noted the guy next to us. I didn’t know him personally, but he and Wil had been chatting it up like old friends. We were in this room with one other team, and while their healer and one of their fighters were too nervous to talk, their leader and I had been discussing strategies quietly before the mission started.
“Thanks,” I replied, then tilted my head towards the ceiling as the announcer came back online.
“Teams prepare for mission launch in ten.” We all stopped talking immediately and turned towards the massive metal door waiting to distribute us into the complex. Great groans could be heard from the interior structure as the doors pulled upwards and revealed the empty hallways to us.
“Good luck,” I muttered to the other team, before plunging into the darkness, my squad on my heels.
We walked for a few minutes, not finding anything of interest. Jaymie relayed information in our ears, telling us where other teams were and what was ahead. As we came to a crossroads, I halted the team. There was a small pyramid of oil barrels in the hallway to our left, a few doors in the hallway to our right, and ahead, more darkness. I contacted Jaymie.
“What’s up ahead?” I asked, glancing back at my team. “I don’t want to go down that left hallway. Looks like it’ll take us away from the upper levels.”
“It seems that to the left is a machine shop,” Jaymie said, checking her scans, “And up ahead is the main lift center.” That was good. If we could get to a lift, we could make our way to the top floor and reach the hostage first.
“Boring!” Wil shouted, a little too loud for my comfort. He could hear Jaymie, but I doubt he cared what she said. “Why pick up some snot-nosed little kid when we can score bonus points for mercing the slavers?” He tightened the strap on his glove, the only warning I got for what he was about to do.
“No!” I shouted, but I was too late. He punched the oil barrels, creating a massive clang that echoed through the hallway. Black oil poured out of the punctured metal cylinder, spilling across the floor. Wil drew his knife and knelt to the ground. The steel blade scraped across the floor and sparked once. That was all it took. The oil slick ignited and flames roared into the air higher than our heads.
“What have you done?” I yelled, the heat searing my face.
“Made some noise,” Wil replied with a grin. “They’ll come and we’ll take them down. We can even save one to get us to the kid.” I gave him a look. It was a dangerous and probably really stupid idea, but I had to hand it to him. There really was no better way to get someone’s attention.
“Fine,” I replied, “Get ready. The fire response crew should be here soon.” Within thirty seconds, we heard a commotion from the other side of the inferno.
“Hey! Get a suppressor in here!” A man’s voice called from over the flames, “If this hits the machine shop, we’re screwed!” Jaymie came on in my ear.
“There’s four other bodies coming from that side. They have a fire suppressor. Looks like you’ll have the element of surprise on your side.”
“Thanks, Jaymie.” I thanked her and alerted Rett and Wil. A spray of foam came from the other side of the fire, smothering the fire and bringing the flames down.
“Oh no,” I realized, “The fire’s going down slowly. They’ll see us before we can get through.”
“Then we’ll have to fix that.” Wil stated succinctly. I wondered what he meant, until the flames dropped to about three feet. Then Wil made his move.
He dove through the fire and came out on the other side, blazing. I couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like Wil was trying to take on all five of them at the same time.
“Do something!” I implored Rett, motioning to go through. “He can’t take all of them on by himself.”
“Nuh-uh,” Rett replied, shaking his head. “I’m not jumping through that, and I’m definitely not trying to hit Wil.”
“Well, he’s part of my team,” I told him, preparing myself, “And I’m not letting him go down like that.” I glanced over to Ryang. “Get a burn kit ready.” I steeled myself and jumped into the fire.
It was cooler than I expected, and I came through on the other side relatively unharmed. My sleeve was smoking, but I ignored it and drew my swords. The five slavers were crowding in on Wil, holding whatever they could get their hands on. I dove in on one who was holding a long chain. He went down with a hole in his chest. Wil tackled another and punched his face repeatedly with his spiked gloves. It was a gruesome sight, but extremely effective. Now it was two versus three. I heard a yelp behind me, and the third fell with a bolt in his neck. Rett was doing his work from across the blaze. In the confusion, Wil drew his knife across the fourth’s chest and kicked his legs out from under him. There was only one left. He did the smart thing. He turned and ran. He only made it a few steps before he fell over, clutching his leg. A metal bolt protruded from his calf. Rett did good work.
“You’re coming with us,” I said, picking up the injured slaver. “We’ll patch you up, but you won’t run away, will you? Otherwise, well, that’s what we have Rett for.” The pneumatic hiss of Rett’s gun reloading caused the slaver to glance around nervously. A spray of foam took care of the rest of the fire and the three of us crossed back over to Ryang.
“What’s this?” he asked exasperatedly, “Wil, you’ve got at least first degree burns. And Ked, there’s a cut on your leg.” I glanced down. So there was. I didn’t even notice. It must have been from the one that went down from Rett’s gun. Ryang flipped open his bag and grabbed a plasticast.
“Hold on,” he told the injured slaver, “This’ll hurt for about seven seconds.” He put his hand reassuringly on the slaver’s knee, then braced the other on the bolt in his leg. Eight seconds later, the slaver was whimpering on the floor with a cast over his leg. Ryang wiped the bolt clean and handed it back to Rett.
“Thanks very much,” Rett said, and reloaded his clip.
“So where we going?” Wil asked the slaver.
“Wh-what do you mean?” he sniffled, “You’re not just going to kill me?” Ryang scoffed.
“You think I’d waste a cast on a dead man? No, you’re helping us out.” The slaver paled.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I joked, hitting him on the shoulder playfully, “It’s not that bad. All you have to do is show us around, get us into the pool, and keep watch while we skinny-dip.” Rett let out a whooping laugh that was cut short by Jaymie.
“Sorry to kill the mood, but there are lifesigns closing fast on you from the right. Better take that lift path.” We bolted. I sprinted ahead of the other three, dragging the injured slaver along with me.
“Which way to the lifts?” I shouted, pulling him up next to me.
“This, uh, no, this left here.” I jerked him to the left as we shot down the hallway. Within seconds, a lobby opened up with multiple doors for lifts. I punched a button and tapped my foot rapidly as Rett, Wil, and Ryang caught up.
“Where are those lifesigns?” I asked Jaymie impatiently.
“About ten, no, five clicks off. Looks like there’s five of them.” she replied. I heard keys clacking on her end. Hopefully that was a good sign and not her trying to fend off some complication.
“You have a read on them yet?” I questioned, “Can you tell what they are?”
“Slavers?” Wil suggested with a wry grin. Slavers we could handle.
“Worse.” Jaymie’s voice sounded nervous. “Another team.” Ryang went white. I mashed the lift call and turned to my team.
“Rett, Wil, hide yourselves. We’re going to try something new here. I don’t want any casualties, but take them down as quickly as possible.” Both nodded and took their positions, Rett in a covered doorway and Wil in a shadowy corner.
“Follow my lead,” I whispered to Ryang. “Hurry up!” I shouted, pounding the lift button. I kicked the door twice and gave a grunt, just for good measure. “We’ll never make it to the top!”
“Ked, what are you doing?” Jaymie asked warily.
“Don’t question it,” I instructed softly, “How far away are they?”
“Almost here,” she said, “They’ve sped up.” I began to hear the footsteps. They certainly sped up. It sounded like they had broken into a dead sprint. Suddenly three figures burst into the room. It wasn’t one team. It was two.
The three that were standing eyed us warily. Two of them carried bodies on their shoulders, the other two of the five that Jaymie identified. From the way that the bodies were slung over their shoulders, they had to be two teams. No self-respecting human would treat their own teammate like that.
The two carriers dumped the bodies on the ground. Both carriers were strong, tall boys, and it looked like they were twins. The third conscious member, a girl, seemed like a female copy of the two, and approached me quickly with long legs.
“Thank the gods, we found you!” she said, throwing her arms around me. Despite being sweaty from running, her blue and blonde hair smelled really good. “Our Tech kept telling us we were getting closer, so we kept speeding up.”
“We thought you were a bunch of slavers,” I mumbled into her hair, “We ran.” Behind me, Ryang coughed awkwardly.
“If the rest of your team is hurt, I can assist in patching them up,” he offered, ignoring the two guys.
“That would be great!” She unwrapped her arms from me and gave Ryang a big hug. “They’re not actually our teammates, but we grouped up. We got caught and our medic got wasted, along with their leader and a fighter. Now it’s just the three of us carrying them around.”
“Ked,” Jaymie warned in my ear, “I know who these three are. They’re triplets. I don’t know where their healer is, but I know that he didn’t get hit by slavers. Their tech is probably in the lounge, having a drink. They hunt other teams, Ked. They’re gonna get you next.”
She was still talking. I didn’t comprehend what she was saying, but her brothers took a step closer. My eye twitched. Ryang glanced over at me nervously. I swallowed.
“Look,” I said to her, cutting her off completely, “I don’t want to be rude, but I’d prefer that Ryang and I just try to make it ourselves.” Ryang began to nod vigorously, seconding my proposition. She took another step forward.
“Oh, come on. If we all team up, then we can make it there together and definitely qualify, all of us.” She twirled her hair with her fingers, mixing the blue and blonde and causing them to be indistinguishable from each other. Her brothers loomed forward menacingly, not saying a word.
“Well, you see,” I stuttered nervously, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why we couldn’t join together, “I mean, we can’t stay together because, um, well, I, uh…” I trailed off as the brothers took yet another step forward. I took another as well, and my back hit the cold metal wall of the lift. There was nowhere to run. Ryang was watching with concern near the plant resting on the table which Wil was hiding under… Wil! My mind raced. I regained my cool.
“Sorry,” I coughed and pressed my hand against the left boy’s muscular chest, stopping him, “I couldn’t find the word I was looking for.” The sister gave me a strange look, but I ignored her and continued. “What I meant to say was, ‘We can’t stay together because you’re cheaters.’ Yep, dirty rule breakers. Team killers. I was just being polite; you’re actually terrible people.” The smile on my face grew until the brother on the left gave a wordless growl and threw himself at me. Then my team made its move.
Rett dove out from the doorway, firing at all three triplets, while Wil hefted the potted plant across the lobby and took out the brother on my right. The remaining one took my throat in one hand and smashed my body against the wall. As the wind left my lungs, I vaguely registered an altercation to my left. But that was unimportant. What was important was the fact that I couldn’t breathe. His grip tightened and black spots appeared in the corners of my vision. He was going to choke me to death. As my vision went black, I fell to the ground. Instinctively, my lungs opened up and I inhaled deeply. On all fours, I surveyed my situation. Next to me, the brother that had been strangling me lay, two bolts buried in his back. I’d have to thank Rett when this was over. I coughed again as I drew myself into a sitting position against the lift door. When was the lift going to come? Seemed like it was hours.
Wil dueled the girl while Rett stood there. I stood up slowly, keeping a hand on my bruised esophagus. They were trading blows, his spiked fist striking out before she retaliated with an extendable metal staff drawn from one of her sleeves. He lunged forward, slashing left and right with his knife, and she jumped back. Wil stumbled backwards as she swung the staff over her head, directing her full momentum and weight into the strike. She caught him directly across his chest, throwing him to the ground. The staff fell to the ground as she abandoned it and tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Her fist went up to deliver a series of punches that would certainly have knocked Wil out when a gun cocked behind her head. Rett stood behind her, muzzle of his gun pressed into her skull.
“Don’t think you want to move, darlin’. Might get messy for you and I don’t wanna clean it up.” My head was still swimming, but I saw the grimace Rett gave as he spit out the words. He wasn’t eager to fire, but he would if the occasion called.
“Hey, Ked, I think we have a problem here,” Ryang called from a little ways back down the hallway the trio came from. “Our guide disappeared.”
“What?” I asked woozily, still trying to process the gun to her head. “What do you mean, disappeared?”
“He means the kid up and ran during the fight,” Wil stated matter-of-factly, “Good enough explanation for you, or do I need to make a presentation with charts and graphs?”
“That’s fine,” I mumbled, then turned to Ryang. “Look, why don’t we take a few minutes to look for him? He couldn’t have gotten far.” Ryang nodded in agreement and Rett dropped his gun a few inches to speak to me.
“I’ll just stay here then, right?” I gave him a thumbs up and turned to head down the corridor with Ryang and Wil. We hadn’t gotten more than a few steps before we heard a clatter.
The girl had tried to move and kicked a shard of pottery across the floor. Rett, staring at the ceiling, was forcefully brought back to reality. It was a knee-jerk reaction. His gun came up and he fired, sending her brain matter all over the tile floor. As the body wobbled and fell down, landing on cold, unyielding ground, Rett’s gun dropped from his hand.
“It was a mistake,” he whispered, barely audible. “I told her not to move…” He trailed off and stood there, shocked.
“We get it,” Wil said impassionately, “You shot her. Now can we go?” He strode to the lift and punched the button repeatedly. Rett removed his hat and let it flutter to the ground next to the corpse. He removed his duster jacket and draped it over her form, leaving him in just his tunic and his long, ponytailed blonde hair.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice faint, “We can go.”
We took the elevator to the top level, where Jaymie told us that we’d find our prisoner. The doors slid open to reveal a dimly lit hallway with wavering green plasma locks on the doors.
“This is the floor, all right,” Wil said, twirling his knife through his fingers, “Prison block.” I punched the button for the lights and watched as the old ceiling-mounted lighting system came to life with a series of buzzes and cracks.
The hallway was completely deserted. Wil took a few steps, listening to nothing but the sound of his shoes clicking on the floor.
“We’re good,” he called, “Nobody’s up here.”
“That’s good,” I replied, “Jaymie, can you disable the door locks?”
“I can,” she said hesitantly, “But I can’t scan what’s in these. You’ll have to check each one individually until you find the kid.” I heard Ryang groan.
“There have to be at least forty cells here,” he complained, “You want us to check all of them?”
“Fifty-two,” Jaymie replied, keys clacking. “And yes, unless you want to get attacked by other really angry prisoners, you have to check all the doors.”
“Okay,” Rett said quietly. I started. He had been so quiet since shooting that girl that I had forgotten he was there. “I’ll take the right side with Wil.” Ryang and I began peering into the holding cells on the left. Luckily, one way mirrors allowed us to see into the prison cells without their occupants seeing us. We passed three tattooed males, a large gorilla, and a sleeping dog before Ryang stopped behind me.
“Jaymie, what exactly are we looking for?” he asked, “We didn’t get a physical description of the kid, did we?”
“We did not,” she replied, “but we did get their family crest. It’s a lion’s head over a crossed scroll and feather.”
“That’s our sign, boys,” Wil called, “Whiny little kid with a lion.” We resumed our work. After about seven more cells, Wil called for a halt.
“Guys, come check this out!” The three of us rushed to Wil’s cell, expecting our hostage. We found a girl.
She lay in a heap on the ground, black hair splayed out over her face. She obviously had a well-shaped figure, and by the looks of it, Wil enjoyed what he saw.
“Hey Jaymie, how about unlocking this cell?” Wil asked casually, checking for any reaction from me.
“Absolutely not.” I replied firmly. Wil began to protest, but I stamped my foot down, the sound echoing through the deserted hallway. “We’re not bringing along a prisoner who’s not part of our assignment. I don’t care how attractive she is.” Wil gave me a scathing glare and threw a punch into the mirror separating us from the beautiful prisoner. The glass cracked, sending a spiderweb of fractures through the whole pane and letting a few shards fallout into the hallway. The sharp noise it gave off alerted our girl, who rolled over and crouched on all fours, covering her body protectively.
“Hey,” Wil mouthed at her, waving and giving her a smile that had melted many a girl in the Academy hallways. This girl, however, simply bared her straight white teeth in a defensive growl.
“So guess you don’t want to talk,” Ryang said in her direction, but we all knew he was addressing Wil. “Too bad. Guess we’ll see you around. Bye!” He grabbed Wil’s arm and began to drag him out of view of the girl. I leaned against the opposite wall, bemused, while Wil fought to get back in her sight line. I looked at her and gave her a halfhearted smile.
“Sorry.” I said, then began to follow Ryang. She jumped up, pounding on the glass and pressing herself against the broken mirror. I turned back.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go,” I began, then noticed what she was doing. She wasn’t just trying to bribe us with her body. She was showing us her stomach. Proudly displayed in ink was a lion’s head, flanked by a scroll and feather.
“I’ll be damned.” Rett said, “She’s our girl.”
“You want me to let her out?” Jaymie asked, waiting on my command.
“Do it.” I said, “And get me an update on where the other teams are.” We watched the glass door slide back into the wall while the girl watched us. Wil stepped forward, greeting her with outstretched arms. He recoiled as the palm of her hand made contact with his face.
“What was that for?” he asked incredulously, holding his stinging cheek.
“For staring at me like a piece of meat.” She advanced on me, and I flinched prematurely at the thought of being slapped.
“What?” She asked, “I was just going to thank you for letting me out.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and I felt my cheeks flush with blood.
“I’m Elana Castillo,” she said with just a hint of an accent betraying the origins of her family.
“You’re from the Conquistadores system, aren’t you? Cortes?” Ryang asked with a sudden note of urgency in his voice. He glanced up from the floor and eyed her for a second before resuming his disinterested scan of the walls.
“Yes, what does it mean to you?” She seemed offended, but Ryang shrugged and turned to look over at the elevator.
“Just wondering how my old homeworld is doing,” he mentioned, now staring through a cell window and observing the sleeping dog.
“You lived on Cortes?” She scoffed. Her accent had become more pronounced once Ryang mentioned her homeworld. “As a servant no doubt?”
“No, I was part of one of the Old Families,” he replied casually, turning his gaze from the dog and staring her down with deep green eyes. “The DeVelo family? Or you may know us as the Dishonored Ones.” Her eyes went wide.
“The Dishonored Ones?” She asked quietly, her mask of haughty derision gone.
“Yes,” Ryang shot back, the beginnings of a Conquistadoric accent working its way through his regular voice. “The DeVelo family. We took after our ancestors, conquering new lands in the name of the Conquistadores. Our actions drew some disapproval from the other families and a certain man led a coup against us. That man’s name, my dear Elana, was Don Castillo, head of your family. We faked the destruction of our family and went into hiding. My group took the new name ‘Devrolo’ and blended with the locals on the moon of Castamere One. I came to the Academy, hoping to forge a new identity and forget that wretched system. But, as it seems, here we are.” His words had begun to flow together, and the pace of his words was picking up as he moved along. Wil gave me a confused look, which I then shared with Rett. What was going on? We all turned our attention back to Ryang as he finished his monologue.
“And now, in the name of the DeVelo family, I will have my revenge.” His eyes blazing with anger, he threw a punch and caught Elana in the jaw, knocking her out cold. In a flash, he swung her over his shoulder and bolted for the lift. They disappeared, heading back towards the ground floor. Rett and I stood shocked, and Wil finally broke the silence.
“ … The hell just happened?” We stood there for another second, then snapped into action, tearing down the hallway towards the lift.
“Jaymie, cut Ryang’s audio feed and get a reading on his position.” I ordered as we dove into the elevator.
“Copy that,” Jaymie replied, “They’re heading down to the hallway where you encountered the triplets. I can try to cut power to their lift and throw them off. You should be able to catch up with them in the hallway.”
“Fun,” Wil sneered, “We can get both that pansy-ass Conquistador and Elana.” Rett grinned and pumped his gun in agreement.
“You’re okay, right Rett?” I asked him as the lift travelled further.
“Yep,” he replied, his vacant unease from earlier gone. “This one deserves it.” The doors slid open and we stepped into the cold atrium. The body on the ground was still there, Rett’s coat and hat draped over it. Ryang was hurriedly making his way across the floor, almost to the door.
“Stop right there,” I commanded, and he turned, facing us for a brief second before turning back and breaking into a run. “Get after him!” I yelled, and the three of us began to chase him down. With Elana on his back, we were far faster than him, but Ryang struggled along until Wil caught up and dove on him, taking all three to the ground. Elana, still unconscious, slid across the floor, stopping against a wall, while Wil and Ryang rolled over and over, punching and kicking, then Wil ended up on top, spiked fist poised menacingly over Ryang’s face.
“I don’t care what kind of justice you believe in, you crazy bastard,” Wil panted, his spiky blue hair beginning to wilt, “But you aren’t gonna sacrifice our careers for it.” His fist pulled back, ready to deliver the killing blow, but then Wil hesitated. He turned back to me and asked,
“What’re the rules, kid?” I relayed the question to Jaymie, who, after a flurry of keyboard clacks, responded,
“You’re not allowed to kill a disarmed individual unless he poses a direct threat to you.” I nodded to Wil, who turned his shoulders to face me.
“So you’re saying I can’t waste him,” he guessed dejectedly. “Fine then.” Wil removed his right knee from Ryang’s shoulder, then doubled over with a bark of pain. Ryang had the blade of a dagger buried into Wil’s stomach to the hilt, and as Wil stared at his own wound, the smaller man twisted the dagger, drawing a bead of blood. Wil’s gaze suddenly snapped up from his stomach to Ryang’s face, his eyes brimming with a manic fire that caused Ryang to whimper and struggle.
“Looks like you’re not unarmed!” Wil cackled, then struck Ryang. As the spikes connected with Ryang’s face, he let out a scream that rang in the empty hallway and resonated long after it escaped his lips. Wil’s fists fell again and again until the scream cracked and died off and Ryang’s head fell back, his features barely recognizable after the abuse it took from the spiked gloves. I knew that I should have stopped it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I checked on Elana silently, and, seeing that she was still out cold, turned to the remainder of my team. Rett was staring in the other direction, having averted his eyes when the first blow landed. Wil had unstrapped his gloves and threw them on top of Ryang’s body, where they landed with a wet thud. He turned from his handiwork and saw Rett eyeing him uneasily.
“What?” Wil asked confrontationally, “You never just wanted to hit something?”
“Well, yeah,” Rett countered, “But when I did, I never punched a guy’s face in and killed him.”
“Look, boys,” I intervened before things got messier. “How about we finish this later, where you can get angry and fight without killing each other and ruining my Evaluation.” They both backed down, but I saw that the fighting spirit in Wil’s eyes didn’t dull one bit. I slung Elana over my shoulder, finding no better way to transport a limp body. Silently, we took the last leg of our journey slowly, taking time to reflect on what had transpired since we entered the complex. We stopped at a particularly recognizable area. To our rights lay four dead bodies and a massive pool of oil. I set down Elana and carefully stepped through the oil, taking care not to slip. I motioned for Rett to join me, and we piled the bodies of the slavers on one side of the hallway. Wil wasn’t particularly religious, so he just stood off to the side and kept watch while I said a quick prayer for Iorick, the Gravekeeper.
Once we finished, Rett and I stood up and I picked up Elana. We made our way slowly back to where we started, with Jaymie chattering in our ears. Finally, we reached the metal door that deposited us here in the first place. Wil pounded on the door three times, while Rett kept his back to us and watched the hallway.
“C’mon, hurry up,” Wil muttered under his breath while I listened to the clicking and squealing of the locks and mechanisms holding the door. With a metallic shriek, the door slowly pulled up from the ground and rolled into the ceiling.
“Perfect,” Rett said, having turned from watching the hallway, “Now we can get out of here. Drinks on me at the Angry Orchard after Assigning.” Together, Rett on my left and Wil on my right, we stepped through to the warp panel.
I sat in the Hall of Finality with Wil, Rett, and Jaymie, waiting for the rest of the teams to finish the Evaluation and report for Assignment. We were one of the first teams done, and so far the only one to completely qualify. The Evaluators that met us at the end of our trial hinted strongly to our passing through, and the other trainees mentioned that their Evaluators had done the same. The other teams that were here had mentioned at least one slip-up that had cost a team member their future. And more than a few had perished against slavers, unfortunate accidents, or, in the most extreme cases, another team.
“It’s funny, though,” Jaymie mused next to Rett on my left, “The Hall of Finality. It makes sense whether you make it through or not. You move on to the Agency if you pass, and you go home if you don’t. Either way, your time in the Academy is done.” Suddenly, the doors swung open and we all turned, expecting to swap stories with another team. But only one person came through the doors. Drek Bemirk ran in and came down to my right, sitting down in the empty seat next to me.
“My team.” He sounded angry.
“What happened?” I asked lightly, trying not to upset him.
“Well, our leader died right off the bat because someone tipped off the slavers and they sniped him as he walked through an intersection. Our two fighters started arguing and one got killed because of it. Then the only two left ignored me and wandered around until they got caught by another team.” He bent forward and buried his head in his hands.
“Sounds rough, buddy.” Wil remarked, all the way on Jaymie’s left. “At least you lived.” Drek snorted.
“Yeah, because it’s so easy to die when you’re off-planet and cooped up in a room with nothing but computers.” Drek fell backwards into his chair and refused to say another word. The doors opened again and teams began flowing in. When the hall was about half full, one of our Head Instructors walked to the podium. He was a youthful-looking thirty-something with hair styled forwards into a single spike.
“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice projected clearly around the room, “My name is Master Kee. Welcome to Assignment.” He gestured to a holo-pad to his right. “As I call the names of the trainees who move on to serve in the Agency, their image will appear here.” He cleared his throat once more before starting.
“Irus Aatrox, fighter, Rho Division, Second Seed.” His hologram flickered to life, showing a feral-looking boy with a shaved head. Each division had multiple teams, and the first seed of the division had priority on assignments. Getting a high-traffic spot like fighter as high as second seed was impressive, if not downright amazing. The hologram leered at the audience, seemingly daring us to challenge his assignment
“Jaine Aberrima, healer, Kappa Division, Third Seed.” A shy-looking girl flickered to life and stood on the holo-pad, keeping her head down and staring at the ground. Master Kee kept calling names, and holograms kept appearing. It was almost boring, until he got to the end of the A’s.
“Holly Azilas, unassigned.” A stir went through the crowd. What was ‘unassigned’? Didn’t she have a squad? Eventually, the hall reached a silent conclusion. The Agency needed pencil pushers and janitors. Why not give those jobs to “the unassigned”? Master Kee paid it no attention, though, and moved right on. When he reached and passed by ‘Bemirk’, Drek let out a soft whimper next to me. I paid him no attention. My name was coming up.
“Wil Darlet, fighter, Alpha Division, Second Seed.” Rett whistled appreciatively. Alpha Squad, the pride of the Agency, and Wil scored high enough to make it into second team? That was a monumental achievement.
“Ked Davras, unassigned.” My jaw dropped. Only two others had been unassigned so far. I was better than this. I deserved better than this. I was a leader, not a desk jockey. My head fell in despair and I shut out the rest of the ceremony. Only the names of the other unassigned stayed in my head.
Holly Azilas, Candice Cervas, Ked Davras, Randel Gintan, Mebb Giovanni, Lilliana Jiulio, Elyse Nyrel… The list went on and on. Faces were a blur, names were meaningless. By the end of the ceremony, my eyes were closed and I was in my own little world. I came back to reality when Rett tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey,” he said with a hint of concern, “He just called the last name. You okay?” I shook my head.
“Go ahead,” I said, “Drek, buy them drinks on my tab.” I gave my friend a weak smile and let them pass by. I needed time to myself.
“Thank you for your dedication to the Academy,” Master Kee said from the podium, “And would the Unassigned cadets please stay behind for a moment?” The hall began to clear as most of the trainees left, either to get ready for their time in the Agency or to return home to lead their lives elsewhere, but a number of us stayed.
When the door closed behind the last graduate, Master Kee cleared his throat.
“Now I know what you’re all thinking, but don’t worry. I’m here to tell you -” He was cut off as an orange-haired guy stood up in the front row, obviously as angry as the rest of us.
“I don’t care what you’re gonna tell us, we don’t deserve this. You can’t just write us off like this and give us the reject jobs! And it’s not just me; we all feel this way.” Some of the others of us in the room began to nod slowly, not sure how to stand up against Master Kee.
“Alright, then,” Master Kee said, stepping out from behind the podium and shrugging slightly, “Get out.”
“What?” the guy asked, confused.
“You heard me. Get out.” Master Kee said, staring down the rebellious youth.
“Oh, sorry,” the orange-topped trainee said hurriedly, beginning to sit down, “I’ll let you finish.”
“No.” Master Kee said, tapping his foot against the stage floor once. “I said get out. You don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. Leave.” The trainee opened his mouth to argue, but he quickly shut up and took his leave through the back door.
“Actually, in fact, all of you leave.” Master Kee said, massaging his temples with the fingers of one hand. We all got up and started to leave in various stages of confusion, then Master Kee spoke again.
“All of you except Davras.” I turned, shocked. What did he want with me? Did he want me to do the whole of the administrative jobs for the Agency? He waited until all of the others left, then beckoned me forwards.
“Come here.” I went to the front of the stage and joined him there, where he led me to an alcove off the side. He pushed open a door, revealing an office with calming blue walls and a large window behind the creme-colored desk.
“Do you know why you were all unassigned, Davras?” he asked, sitting down behind the desk as I stood there.
“We, um, we were picked for ‘special duties’ for the Agency, sir?” I asked, still not sure why he needed me.
“I detect a hint of sarcasm, Cadet,” Kee said, with just a touch of amusement in his voice, “But you’re right. You were all picked for a special assignment. Follow-up question. Do you know why I wanted you in particular?” I was silent. I had no answer for that question.
“Well, we can’t be right all the time,” he said, “But I have your answer. You’re a damn good recruit, Davras. First to get to the prisoner, even with my Ryang complication? Impressive.”
“Your Ryang complication?” I asked, “You mean you put him there?”
“Of course,” Master Kee replied casually, “Great actor, Ryang. Shame he took it too far and got himself killed.”
“He was an actor?” I asked.
“Of course.” Master Kee gave me a quizzical look. “You don’t think we’d send a disgraced member of the Eldest Families to save a current member of the Eldest Families, do you?” He laughed at me. “We do background checks, you know. No, I told him to try and keep Elana away from you for as long as possible. But I’m getting off track here. What I want to say is you’re a fine leader, and you’re perfect for what we have in mind.”
“And that is, sir?” I queried further. I was careful; I didn’t want to get my hopes up, even if he did mean I wasn’t on cafeteria duty.
“Omega Division.” I was stunned. As far as I knew, there were twenty-three divisions of the Agency, ranging from Alpha to Psi. Omega wasn’t one of them.
“The other divisions are large. The other divisions are flashy. The other divisions have their roles. And that’s why we want you.” Master Kee crossed his arms and leaned back in his desk chair.
“But sir, me?”
“You. Your performance on the Evaluation was outstanding, you handled the slavers and that other team with mastery. I can’t see anyone better for the job.” Master Kee kicked his feet up on the desk and looked at me with approval.
“But I don’t think I can -” He cut me off immediately.
“Look, if you don’t think you can, so help me I will kick you out of this academy and find someone who thinks they can.”
“I’m sorry sir,” I replied apologetically, “Won’t happen again sir.”
“Now,” Kee said, “There is one preliminary assignment for you before you take control of Omega Division. You need to pick your squad.”
“Pick my squad?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied. “What’s a leader without people to follow him? And Omega Division is a small project. I suggest no more than four others on your team.”
“I know my technician.” I said immediately. “Give me Drek Bemirk.”
“You mean the Tech whose team died almost immediately?” Master Kee asked with a hint of interest. “Why would you want him?”
“He’s a good Tech,” I said, “His team let him down. They died through no fault of his own.”
“I’m not sure,” Master Kee told me, his brow furrowing, “I think I can only let the other unassigned graduates onto the Omega Project.”
“I guarantee he’s better than any Tech you passed through,” I insisted, sticking up for my friend. “Let him through. I trust him better than anyone at the Academy. I owe it to him.” I set my jaw and stared down Master Kee, insistent on proving my loyalty and determination in my friend.
“Fine,” Master Kee said, swinging his legs down from the desk, “On one condition. I pick the rest of your team. I’m not letting you base a squad on your friendships.”
“Done.” I reached across the table and shook his hand firmly. I saluted him and turned to leave the office.
“Oh, and Commander?” he called, causing me to turn back to him.
“Welcome to the Agency.”
Vid Writes 
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