Chapter 53

Training Gym A-32

Space Station Vertyn, Stariek Orbit

8 March 3303

Skylar grunted as his opponent’s fist slammed into his stomach, the wind knocked out of him. He doubled over. A knee slammed into his nose with a sickening crack. It took all his effort to stay upright and bring the energy shield attached to his left wrist up to deflect the laser sword aimed at his neck. A satisfying sizzle, along with the familiar scent of ozone, filled the air. The force behind the blow sent a tingle through his arm. It was nearly enough to break through his defense. He managed to remain steady, preparing for the next strike that was sure to come.

The next swing of the sword came in low, aimed just beneath the bottom arc of his shield. With a grunt, Skylar leapt backwards, just out of reach. His opponent closed the distance quickly, bringing his sword back around for another blow. Skylar easily flicked his wrist to send it skittering along his shield. He followed it up with a quick jab of his own sword at the other boy’s bare chest. It crackled as it connected with his skin, eliciting a yelp of pain and growl.

“Is that all you got?” Jakob Breuer taunted. “I wouldn’t have expected the provost to have such a useless child.”

“Plenty more where that came from.” Skylar’s face heated at the insult. He tried to hide his heavy breathing but knew he failed. Sword training was always the most strenuous part of the day, and it was made that much worse when he was paired with the likes of Jakob. Sweat gleamed off his slim body, rolling down his front and back in small beads.

Jakob brushed a few strands of his hair out of his face before sneering. Skylar readied himself by bringing his shield up to defend his core. He took a deep breath and widened his stance, bending his knees slightly.

The other boy moved in quickly—much faster than Skylar would have expected given his size. His sword, gripped in both hands, came down fast and hard. Each blow slammed against Skylar’s shield. Crackles resonated in shrill screeches. Vibrations ran up his arm. Numbness began at the wrist and spread outward. Before he knew it, the contained energy field collapsed against the onslaught.

Skylar attempted to dodge out of the way of the coming attack but was too slow. Jakob lashed out with the sword, scoring a sharp slice across Skylar’s back. He yelped in pain, arching his back as the low power laser burnt his skin. Taking advantage of his momentarily stunned opponent, Jakob quickly closed the small gap Skylar created and slammed his sword against Skylar several more times, each heavier and carving deeper into his skin.

His yelps turned to screams. The smell of ozone mingled with burnt flesh. It felt as if every nerve receptor in his body was on fire. He attempted to turn to spread the force of the blows outward, but it made no difference. Desperately scrambling, Skylar tried to do whatever he could to stop Jakob’s assault but to no avail. Slowly, he collapsed to the ground. A foot slammed into his side, once, then twice, flipping him from his stomach to his back.

“That’s enough. Enough, I said!”

Only after the instructor, Lieutenant Ramsland, rose his voice did Jakob take a step away from Skylar’s writhing body. The boy was breathing heavily, though Skylar could see the grin on his face. Ramsland looked down at Skylar, who had curled up to protect his midsection.

“Pathetic,” Ramsland said, shaking his head. He wore a dark gray suit of armor that obscured his face, though the logo of the Hyperion Empire, a Y with a triangle at each intersection, shone brightly on the corner of his chest. “Cadet Reid, your progress in this fighting style is lacking. If you’re ever going to make it in this army, you’re going to need to redouble your efforts.”

“I don’t care about ‘this fighting style’,” Skylar muttered, pushing himself up. His body screamed in protest. Throbbing aches still ran throughout his chest and back and arms, wherever Jakob’s blade had touched. He resisted the urge to rub the wounds in an attempt to soothe the pain. “I belong in the cockpit, not on the frontlines.”

The lieutenant stepped forward, nearly knocking Skylar over as he put his helmet in the boy’s face. Skylar took an involuntary step back before cursing himself for the show of weakness. He tried to ignore the crowd of other cadets that had gathered around to watch them but found it impossible.

“You can easily find yourself on the frontlines, cadet,” Ramsland hissed, his voice low and dangerous, “regardless of where you feel most comfortable. If you’re not capable of even defending yourself, then you’re not going to be a fucking help to anyone else. And people die when mistakes are made. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Skylar ground out, clutching his side. One of the burns ran down from his armpit halfway to his waist. He could feel every one of his heartbeats throb with pain in the spot.

“Good.” Ramsland grabbed Skylar by the arm, his thumb digging into one of the burns. Skylar bit his tongue to keep from yelping as he was shoved out of the way. The other cadets scurried out of the way like he was a deadly disease. “Go clean yourself up.”

Skylar stumbled, making his way through the throng of people. Some of them snickered and pointed at him. Taunting whispers carried through the air, but Skylar continued forward until he reached a bench at the edge of the room. He collapsed into it, leaning against the wall and letting his head lull backwards to stare at the ceiling.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes. The pain worsened with each deep breath he took in an attempt to push through it. Liquid ran down his lip. A swipe of his tongue indicated the coppery taste of blood. A touch from his finger confirmed it. He sighed and wiped it away on his arm. More oozed from his nose, dribbling back to his lip.

“You look like shit,” Lina sat down next to him. Bruises sporadically dotted her arms up to her shoulders where her dark gray tank top rested. Blood streaked down her face in thin rivulets. A cut split her upper lip, which curved up a smile as she gave Skylar a playful shove. “If I knew I was going to get this type of treatment for being your friend, I never would’ve talked to you that first day here.”

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if you abandoned me,” Skylar said with a smirk. He accepted a towel from her and held it to his nose. Blood stained it within seconds.

“And leave you to fend for yourself? Nah, I can deal with a little beating every now and then if it means making sure you’re not alone.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “You deserve at least that much.”

“Doesn’t always feel like it,” Skylar muttered. “Would rather not get people hurt if I can help it.”

As he said the words a single tone rang out indicating the end of the training period. Skylar stood, helping Lina up as he went. The other cadets began moving to the edges of the room to grab their things before heading to the locker rooms and change. Before they could do so, Lieutenant Ramsland whistled sharply.

“Hold it there.” The cadets all turned to look at him. Ramsland, on the other hand, was staring at Skylar. “Given the progress of Cadet Reid, or lack thereof, you all must return here at twenty-two hundred hours for an additional round of training. We are, after all, only as strong as our weakest link.”

A groan emanated from all of them as they glared at Skylar. Mutters filled the air about how unfair it was. Skylar glanced over at Lina, doing his best to control his breathing even as some of the cadets jostled and pushed him as they walked by. Some muttered obscenities and threats. More than a few glared at him. Soon, all of them had filtered out of the room and left Skylar and Lina alone.

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“Well, that’s pleasant,” Skylar said, attempting to feign joviality. He smiled at Lina, though he knew she could easily tell how fake it was. “Still want to be my friend?”

“More than ever.” Her smile radiated warmth. “Like I said, you shouldn’t be alone.”

The sizzle of a laser sword impacting something distracted Skylar. He looked around to see who remained in the room after everyone else had left. Standing in the corner, juking and dodging imaginary blows and lashing out at a rubber training dummy with quick, calculated strikes was a girl. Though he had only seen her the one time almost two weeks ago, he immediately recognized her. She was the same one he saw in the mess hall. Next to her, making quiet comments on her form and technique, was Lieutenant Ramsland, who didn’t seem to notice Skylar and Lina still sitting on the other side of the room.

“Who is she?” Skylar muttered, not aware he even said the words aloud.

“No idea,” Lina said, continuing to wipe sweat from her forehead. The white towel came away with more red from the blood oozing from cuts near her hairline. “Must be some sort of new recruit. Maybe came in with the last batch they delivered last week?”

“I saw her in the mess hall a couple weeks back. That day Zorn threatened me.”

“Keeping tabs on her?” Lina teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Maybe you should ask her out before she finds out you’re stalking her.”

Skylar shot her a glare that only served to widen the smile on her face. He sighed and looked back towards the other end of the room, where the girl now sparred with Ramsland himself. The lieutenant acted slower than he did when using Skylar as an example. His strikes were widely telegraphed, giving her plenty of time to react and practice different moves. Skylar could hear the lieutenant muttering words of encouragement with each strike.

“Come on,” Lina said, gripping Skylar’s arm and tugging on it to urge him to stand. “You gotta get cleaned up before we go to our history class.”

“Oh, good, more indoctrination.” He rolled his eyes and stood, heading towards the locker rooms where the rest of the class had disappeared. Lina followed close on his heels. They quickly reached the point where the hallway split with the boys’ lockers being to the left and the girls’ to the right. “See you there.”

“Assuming you can make it out of there in one piece.” She nodded to his door before heading through her own and disappearing from sight.

Skylar took a step towards the door before stopping. He cast another glance into the training room, finding Lieutenant Ramsland and the girl still practicing. Though he had no idea who she was, something about her felt off. Something he couldn’t quite place. He was going to do whatever it took to figure out what was so special about her.

#

Spectrum Mining Platform V

Ehels System

Cycle 19.468

Euphoria.

It had been many cycles since the last time Nergal experienced the sensation of flying through space. Many cycles since he could spread his metaphorical wings and take flight through the cosmos. The positive reinforcement flowing through his cores could only be described as euphoric.

Ahead of him of lay a large brown and red gas giant circled by hundreds of moons and asteroids making up a loose sphere around it. The distant light of a red dwarf caused them to glitter like diamonds. One might call it beautiful if they were one of those sentimental humans. Nergal had no time for such nonsense, instead focusing on the task at hand.

Several large freighters made their way throughout the system, making their way to and from the large hydrogen mining station currently suspended above the gas giant. It sat near the equator, rotating slowly in place in a geostationary orbit. The top of it resembled the spoke of a wheel with eight arms radiating outward. At the bottom, it came to a tapered point of a coil of metal. A swirl of brown and red mixing together entered the coil and made its way to the hub at the top. The bottom, where the siphoning reached into the depths of the gas giant, resembled a massive dust storm rising off the surface.

A hail from the station reached Nergal’s fleet of two dozen frigates. The number was far more than would be needed to destroy the station, but he had loftier goals than wanton destruction. That was too human. Besides, he had other users for the station. It was the perfect testing ground for his fleet.

Once more, the hail went through, demanding a reason for his presence or threatening to fire upon his vessels. If Nergal had eyes, he would have rolled them. If they truly desired the safety of their station, they would have struck out by now. Their hesitation would be their weakness. Within the ships, he could sense the humans moving to the communications systems, attempting to return the calls but to no avail.

As one, the twenty four ships fanned out. The engines of those towards the ends blazed to life, accelerating at a pace that Nergal knew would overcome the sparse inertial compensators and make the half a dozen human occupants in each uncomfortable. A little discomfort, however, was more than acceptable for the purposes of the test. It was Delargivic who wanted them to be there in the first place anyway.

Sensors indicated missile launches from the station. Only half a dozen new contacts appeared, shooting towards the middle of his fleet. Nergal could have laughed at the attempt. Not only were they much too far to be effective, not to mention too few in number, they neglected to even follow it up with any additional weapons. Even if the missiles reached their targets, they would explode harmlessly against the ships’ shields. No matter. The ships to either end were quickly approaching the station, forming a tightening half circle around it. Like a noose.

He activated the point defense, quickly picking off the six missiles as they neared. They were nothing more than insignificant flies. Like all human weaponry. Each exploded as a pinprick of light before disappearing. The freighters, seeing the fast approaching enemy, began detaching from the station and making their way towards the planet. Their trajectories indicated their desire to use the gravity well of the planet to hasten their escape. Little did they know it would do them no good.

One of the ships on the right side shook as its shields absorbed an attack from the station’s neutron beam emitters and magnetic cannons. Shield integrity read ninety-eight percent — hardly a scratch. With no noticeable hesitation, the ship returned fire, its particle beam cannon ripping a surgical hole through one of the weapon emplacements on the station. An explosion blossomed in the spot as debris floated freely. Lights in the section flickered before dimming to nothingness. The other defensive emplacements in the area ceased firing at once. Again, a hail came through, this one offering surrender. At the same time, a distress signal went out, calling for any and all aid.

Nergal responded by spearing the communications array with another particle beam. It ripped through the antennas near the apex of the station. Metal erupted outward. Immediately, the hails ceased. Escape pods began launching from various points around the station. Methodically, the magnetic cannons on Nergal’s ships turned on the pods. Like fish in a barrel, they were turned to nothing more than scattering piles of debris.

The freighters continued moving away from the station, attempting to reach the point at which they would be able to open wormholes and leave the system. However, calculations being done by Nergal indicated there was less than a one percent chance of their success. Most of his ships steadily approached these freighters. The instructions given to the copies of his core were quite clear. He had no reason to believe they would not follow them to the letter.

His main ship, on the other hand, continued on to the station. The defensive emplacements had stopped firing on his ships. The humans inside must have realized how little it actually did to deter the attackers. Not that they had much of an opportunity to use them.

Ten thousand kilometers away. Merely a stone’s throw in the grand scheme of the universe. Nothing more than a speck of distance.

The station grew large in Nergal’s sensors as his ship approached. It did not head for one of the landing bays or spindle-like arms. Instead, it continued on a course that would bring it straight to where the Combat Information Center of the station. The viewports in the side of the structure increased in size from nothing more than pinpricks of light to their actual size of several square meters. Directly ahead was the largest, the CIC of the station. Nergal could just make out the few officers who had remained in the bridge, knowing their demise was imminent. Part of him regretted the loss of life they represented. This was quickly squashed by a surge of negative reinforcement, jolting his cores back on track.

His ship slowed to a crawl and carefully approached until the tip touched the edge of the station. Then, it melted, melding with the station. Dark tendrils of liquid metal spread out from the point of contact, wrapping themselves around any small arrays and sensors they could find. Then they reached upwards. They followed the curves of the station. Each tendril raced along any narrow track or patch of metal it could find, gripping tight and expanding until Nergal’s ship was nothing more than a puddle. The humans inside it screamed for a moment when they realized what was happening, but it was quickly stifled as they found themselves integrated into the metal. Each of their cells was ripped apart and rearranged to join the bonds of the atoms making up the tendrils.

Slowly, every system of the station was brought under his control. The security in the consoles was child’s play for him to crack, giving him complete access. He used the sensors to look at his other ships, watching as they did the same to the freighters. They turned, returning to the station. Now, it was an amalgamation of black tendrils and silver metal. Nergal could not restrain the positive reinforcement flowing through him. The test succeeded beyond all his expectations.

It was time to conquer another empire.