Untitled
Chapter 22

Mother Confessor:

Pulling myself back to a more rational state of mind. Pushing all the pain back into its niche, wiping the last bits of sadness from my face. I am stronger than this, I tell myself.

I shall start out tomorrow by finding a suitable mentor to show me the ways of a soldier. Understanding that I may never see combat, but none the less be prepared for whatever is thrown my direction. To be all that I am able to. Apart of something far larger than I fully understand, but longing to be a part of the machine. A cog for the better of the whole mechanism. The thought of earning my respect through my own merit, and not through my past. To start over at square one and work my way up from there. My first goal set, it would be an honor to be have a purpose, as well as a privilege.

Graxis:

The docking bay doors signaled our return to the battle ship, by the loud clang, sealing us in from the vacuum outside. Taking the harness off of my torso, I begin helping our new guests out of theirs. They are very strange, and unique in their own design. No two of them shared a common species. The Ober-Commander wanted to write up the report, though it would take sometime to find an interpreter for the hostages we saved. They are from all over the universe. Nowhere that I am familiar with. This made communication a challenge, the many languages and dialects of the thirteen refugees. None the less I would see to it that they are taken care of as per the Ober-Commanders order.

The medical team on standby for our arrival, to escort the foreign beings for treatment and analysis. I will remain with them, as the senior officer has other business to attend to. The young commander better be ready for what the older officer has in store, hoping he will get some answers regarding the massive armor. As well as what they are planning back on Terra. We disembark from the drop ship, setting off where we need to be. The old soldier asked for the young surgical tech to meet him at the Mother Confessors quarters to patch him up. I put out the order for him as I went off with the refugees to the med bay.

Marckus:

Limping off to the brig, to keep my promise to the Confederation Commander. Not bothering to stop off at the armory to turn in my pistol. I relinquish the scimitar to the large gunner as I exited, giving him instruction to take the freezer cells to someone for analysis with the clipboard of the supply freighters inventory. The hulking Centruia soldier collects the two cells with great ease in his large grip, the clipboard in the other hand he hastily set off on his task.

I must look like hell, by the looks I was receiving from the young soldiers as I made my long trek into the depths of the ship. Checking my watch to see how long till the mad science lab is turned into a frozen slag on what is left of Pluto. Three and a half hours and counting, I smile to myself as I march my way to the Brig. Unable to contain the amount of pleasure I felt in seeing the look on my prisoner’s face, when I uphold my word and appointment.

Upon arrival at the brig,

“ I will be taking a prisoner for interrogation, and will be needing a guard for support” , I request of the soldier on post. He calls out to his underclass man.

A Private First Class comes forward, “ Yes, sir. How may I be of assistance” , the soldier returns ready to receive orders.

“Follow me, the Commander and I have unfinished business. I will require you to escort him with me for questioning” , I give the PFC the order.

He complacently marches behind me into the military prison. Halting before the young arrogant Commanders cell, his stone mask greets me coldly as I peer at him through the bars.

“Well, Commander, it would seem that class will begin soon. All that is left is to see if you have been a good student, and have done your homework. Now don’t give us any trouble in making sure you are not late, otherwise this grunt is going to kick your ass up and down this ship” , I tell the stone faced prisoner, gesturing to the PFC as he cracks his knuckles scowling at the man behind the bars.

Taking a moment to observe the captured officer, his eyes stray to my pistol. Turning red with anger as he stares at my weapon hanging from my shoulder. No doubt still upset that instead of ending him, I only busted his now fixed orbital socket.

Nodding back to the guard on duty to open the cell.

“You know the drill, son” ,I say to the young officer as the door slowly slides open.

Turning around and placing his hands atop his head as the door bangs to a halt. The young PFC enters the cell, taking the cuffs off his belt. Keeping an eye on the Confed soldier, in case he tries anything funny. As the petty officer reaches out to take the others wrist, the captured Commander drops to a kneeling stance. Catching the PFC’s outstretched hand, flipping him over his shoulder. The young soldier slams hard onto the cold metal floor. Rushing the prisoner before he is able to fully rise to his feet. Placing the toe of my boot inside the crease of his knee, sending him back down. As he falls back to the floor, I take grip of the back of his neck, using my momentum and weight to take him to the metal surface. I watch the stunned PFC recover, still pinning the Commander down.

“I thought I told you if you gave us any trouble, that I would let the PFC kick your ass up and down the ship” ,I bark at the downed prisoner.

Roughly picking him up and forcing him out into the openness of the brig. The PFC already outside the cell growling at being felled by the Commander. Letting him loose from my grasp.

“Time to watch you get the insolence beaten out of your arrogant ass” ,I say mockingly at the young officer.

The young Terran and Centruia circle each other in defensive stances. Sizing up the other, looking for an opening to strike the other. The other prisoners making a racket of the spectacle. Throwing the first punch the young Commander misses his target by mere centimeters. The faster Centurian Private catches the others fist in his recoil, pulling him into a knee to the gut. Gasping for breath the young Commander retreats. To his fault, the PFC takes advantage of the others retreat. Rushing the officer, sending him sliding across the cold floor from a drop kick. Utilizing his powerful legs to send the officer off balance between the force of the kick and the built up inertia.

“Enough” , I roar at the two combatants in the makeshift arena, “I do not have time to see who is going to kill the other”.

Drawing my pistol and sighting the captive officer between the eyes.

“Go ahead, do it. Then you won’t know a damn thing” ,the arrogant Commander mocks the end of the large caliber weapon.

The click of the cuffs on his wrists as he glares into the muzzle of my weapon. “Good, now shall we?’

The PFC jerks the Commander to his feet. “Pull a stunt like that again and I will be dragging you broken body” , the soldier hisses his threat at the subdued officer. We set off to my intended destination, myself leading the way.

Graxis:

I watch over the poor foreign beings, as well as Red Wolf and Rhino in the medical bay. There is a lot of foul language from Red Wolf and Rhino. Clearly annoyed with the injuries they had sustained on the mission. The medical staff working in a frenzy to patch up the wounded and diagnose the others. I being unsure of how to go about getting the statements of our new guests. Thinking that maybe a hot meal and a nights rest will put them in a better position to submit their statements for the report. I will need to find the linguist that had deciphered the original message from Pluto. They seemed most likely to figure out the strange languages of the refugees we had rescued. I shall take my leave of them, they will be directed to their temporary residence once they have been examined and fed.

Heading off to the armory and then for a nice hot shower, to wash my enemy’s blood off. Taking the short swords from my lower back, the thrill of the hunt over. Though to call it butchery would be more accurate, seeing as we encountered more than we could have anticipated. Leaving the Med Bay with little more than a few bruises and welts. I depart knowing they all will be adequately taken care of. Looking forward to washing off all the coagulated blood that has caked up on my body and body armor. It is not dignified to remove the blood from my short swords. It is a great honor to let the metal drink in the life of the fallen. Not unlike the xharai when harvesting crops to feed the local towns. This is one tradition I will always respect as the son of a farmer, and as a warrior.

Sitting at my desk, I start pouring through the contents in the Majors personal console. I sent the hard-drive off for analysis by intelligence. They should have a bit of a challenge in getting at its contents. Returning to the device on the desktop, scrolling through the mass of files. Mentally noting the ones marked with an encryption that will have to be dissected later. One file in particular has piqued my interest, though locked at the present. The Major’s personal log entries protected by a security pass code. This particular file strikes my interests, wanting to know the late officers personal thoughts. Even more so since she seemed particularly meaningful to the Ober-Commander. This thought is painful and intriguing at the same time. Though it would shed some light on some questions, like how she felt about the Confederation. The confidential record mocking me within the digital barriers. Most of the files are simply reports on the status of construction of the facility. One a roster of all the soldiers stationed on Pluto for simple security until the base is fully operational. Noting that one platoon in training, the one that Rhino and I took on in a bare knuckle brawl. The other, an experienced unit of Confederation soldiers. As well as a security detail that all three of our parties encountered. Most of which Shadow Company tore through with great ease.

The image of all those felled soldiers playing across my mind. Feeling a bit for their inability to be much opposition for the four distinguished Centurian , Throughout my battles with Terrans they do seem to let hubris get in the way. Either that or their stubbornness to admit that they are too arrogant for their own good. This I will never truly understand, though there are exceptions to every rule. Standing up and pacing my quarters wondering where our next destination will be. Narrowing it down through simple deduction as I make the repetitive paces. It will be the moons of Saturn, or the straight on through to the many satellites of Jupiter. Reflecting a moment in my pondering, that these celestial bodies are all named for gods in Terras ancient past. They are most confounding as a species.

Taking a long draw on the strong drink I just received, waiting for my desk console to unlock the Major’s personal console files. Letting the intoxicating liquid warm and dull my senses. Half wanting to know what is in the many secretive documents. The other feeling sick at what might be revealed, and thus not want to know. The liquor was starting to aid my conflict into a sensible resolve. Pushing aside both thoughts and imposing the greater responsibility to get the information. The good, the bad, and the downright disturbing details within. I did feel a bit disrespectful of the Major, for wanting to know her personal thoughts when she was alive. It must have been most painful for the Ober-Commander to do what he had to. I would like to think if it came down to it, I would do the same. Even if the result is painful, I must not be willing to commit dereliction of duty. Taking another generous mouthful of my drink. Silently asking for the Major’s forgiveness in my need to invade her privacy. Pacing my quarters lost in thought, wondering what would have been if things had happened differently. Wondering what life would be like not having to be a truncheon, even one that has the sole purpose of upholding interstellar law. Yet I swore an oath long ago to enforce those laws, to surrender my life if need be to keep the peace.

My new friends that I had taken from Terra took a similar oath as well. So far it has been a privilege fighting beside them in mutual interest and benefit. Earning their trust, by willingly ready to die at their side. They sharing this ideal as well.

I think that after this fiasco has come to a resolution, that I shall retire. Find an affectionate female and start a family. This brings a smile to my face, lightening the burdens that lay in my mind. Rhapsodizing about living on the countryside in a modest cottage teaching my children the values of life. Embracing my future spouse, knowing that nothing else matters.

Slipping back into the gravity of the present. The decorated understanding that there is no pride to be had in taking a life, but in the preservation of it. In my many years of service I have learned this hard lesson. My pride should be based in upholding the fundamental rights that should be exercised by all beings, both foreign and domestic. To honorably rebel and retaliate against those who seek to set those freedoms only upon themselves. Better to fall in disobedience of tyranny, than to live on my knees as a slave. Proud to be the truncheon that will bring the Terran Oligarchy to it’s knees, then cut it’s many heads from it’s greedy, power drunk body. If there will ever come a day after I am retired that another species tries to rise another ascension to power through oppression. I will make sure to be reactivated so as to crush it beneath my boot, like the embers in a dying fire. After all that will transpire, and has already come to pass. I want those who seek to reign with an iron fist, shudder at the very mention on my name. No, at any of the many soldiers on board this battleship. They will have their chance soon enough. May our collective efforts be imposed as a warning to the power hungry. I, Captain Graxis, will be a killer of kings. With that silent vow, I drain the remaining contents in my cup. Setting it on my desk, I order another. Looking into the future with the burdens that fall upon all soldiers, the desire to live through the madness of war. Accepting death as the price of victory, should they sacrifice it in the heat of conflict. The officer I have become, not letting my pride of my determined feats stand before me.

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