System Harbinger : Legacy Earth 5, page 29
“Come on,” Lance said nodding out the door. “Walk with me.”
“I’d rather just…”
“Shut up, and walk with me,” Lance interrupted. “That’s an order.”
“Fine,” he scoffed as he pushed off his bed.
“I know there’s likely more going on in his head than I could even comprehend,” Lance said as he walked down the corridor with Kolar. “But from what I saw and what has been reported, it sounds like part of what he’s experiencing is depression.”
“What’s that?”
“Think of it like a spiraling pit of despair that you can’t really get out of,” Lance replied.
“That sounds terrible… is that common in your kind?”
“Very. The only thing that really helps outside of medication is time. But when I’d go through a bout, doing something that I loved usually helped me get out of it faster.”
“We’re stranded on a ship. What do we have that he loves enough to try and help?”
“Guns… they always make me feel better to shoot off a few rounds.”
“Am I allowed down there when the range is in use?” Kolar asked as they approached Chadavia’s door.
“Way I see it, you had an operational weapon the entire time we were gone, and not only did you not use it on anyone, from what I hear, you were a big part of stopping Chadavia from melting down. So yes, you can be down there and shooting… supervised only, of course.”
“Of course,” Kolar said with a nod.
Lance knocked on the door. It slid open to reveal Chadavia in fatigues. The crown on his head still lit up, but he looked almost catatonic. His eyes shifted to both men, and he tilted his head to the side.
“Why are you here?” he asked softly.
“Get up, loser, we’re going shooting,” Kolar exclaimed.
Lance shot him a look; his brow furrowed.
“What?” Kolar asked. “I’ve been getting more involved in your culture… isn’t that part of my sentence?”
Lance shook his head and turned back toward Chadavia.
“We’re going to the gun range. I’m thinking slinging some lead will do you good,” Lance explained.
With a reluctant sigh, Chadavia stood up and shuffled toward the door. Lance pointed at the metallic wreath that lit his head.
“How’s that working?”
“Okay, I guess,” Chadavia replied.
“Wonders, actually,” Kolar whispered. “He got freaked out, it got knocked off, and he spiraled so quickly when that happened.”
Getting into the elevator, Lance selected to go to the range. Reaching the bottom, the doors slid open. The deafening blast of a shotgun rang Lance’s ears as all three men winced. Valdivia stood three lanes away, a shotgun tucked onto her shoulder and a pistol resting on the station top in front of her.
“Hold your fire!” Lance shouted.
Valdivia lowered her weapon and turned to look at the men. She perked up seeing them, and waved.
“I want to show you what I’ve been working on!” she exclaimed.
“Okay, let’s get some ear protection first,” Lance shouted. His ears rang with a deafening squeal.
He led the other two to the weapons locker. Opening it, he pulled out ear and eye protection, handing them to Kolar and Chadavia.
“Let’s start with your favorite… what kind of gun do you like to shoot?”
Kolar placed his hand on Chadavia’s shoulder and gently guided him to the locker. The Jarog stood motionless for several seconds before grabbing one of the larger caliber handguns.
“Not practical in a combat setting but fun to shoot nonetheless,” Chadavia muttered.
“Then that’s what we shoot!” Lance exclaimed. “We’ll go over next to Valdivia, see what progress she’s made.”
Lance and Kolar escorted the Jarog beside Val.
“Is bringing someone in his shape to a gun range the best idea?” she asked as Kolar helped Chadavia get his weapon loaded.
“Most likely not, but he’s trained with firearms so much, it’s become second nature,” Lance replied. “Maybe getting some of that familiar motion will help with whatever he’s going through.”
“I hope so,” she said softly with a shake of her head. “I really don’t like seeing him like this.”
Kolar helped Chadavia raise his gun and take aim. He stepped back as the Jarog fired a shot. A little spark of life entered the SOAT as he took his second shot.
“Neither does Kolar. Did you know he’s got eight data pads in his room?”
“I’m the one who gave them to him. He said he wanted to do some research. Don’t worry, I made sure he couldn’t access anything that could be harmful.”
“It was the opposite. All eight were on Jarog physiology. He’s looking to help, which is a good surprise.”
Chadavia continued to fire; every third shot hit the target.
“He’s really warmed to Chadavia since this started…”
“It looks like he has,” Lance muttered before turning toward Val. “You said you wanted to show me something?”
“Yes, I want to be as useful in the field as I can, so I watched some of your old training videos and I think I’m getting this down.” Valdivia shouldered the shotgun once more. “Computer, situation D, please.”
Targets started to pop up all over the range. Valdivia racked a round and fired three shots. Setting the shotgun down, she switched almost seamlessly to the pistol. Lance noticed her thumb flick at the safety twice before it clicked over. She fired five times before placing her handgun down.
Her targets stopped moving. Out of the eight, three were dead outright. Two would be dead in a matter of moments, two were injured enough to be out of the fight, and one was a complete miss. She shrugged and nodded at her handiwork.
“I’m still working on the safety and quick target shifting, but it’s better than when I started!”
“That was impressive!” Lance replied with a nod. “Yeah, keep practicing that safety flip and the rest will come with practice. If you get any better, you’ll put Mattias out of a job.”
“May not be a bad thing,” Kolar said while Chadavia ejected a magazine, picked up a new one, and reloaded it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asked.
The Galio took his eyes off Chadavia and shrugged.
“I can’t be the only one to notice he’s a bit uncomfortable around non-humans.”
“Their word for that’s xenophobic,” Valdivia explained.
“Fine, he’s xenophobic,” Kolar relented.
“You really think so?” Lance asked.
“He’s cold toward all non-humans, he only uses non-human race target outlines, and when he’d be around, I couldn’t sense anything from him,” Chadavia said between trigger squeezes. “Like he intentionally repressed all emotions around me. It indicates a mild discomfort at best.”
“Quick question for you guys. How comfortable were you when you met something you couldn’t quite come to terms with? Maybe it was your first Tardig, or Levath, or other race that dwarfed you considerably?”
“I cried like a baby the first time I met a Tardig; he may have been a bounty hunter trying to bring my uncle’s girlfriend into custody, but he was terrifying,” Kolar confessed.
“I hid behind my father anytime a Levath came to visit,” Valdivia added.
“I… I don’t remember,” Chadavia muttered, his brow furrowed before he lifted his gun and fired a few more shots.
“Is memory loss a common occurrence in situations like this?” Lance whispered. Valdivia nodded. “Is it permanent?”
“Not usually,” she replied.
Lance eyed the large pistol cautiously, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake.
“I want you to remember that feeling only with dozens, if not hundreds of different species you’ve never seen before, who can do things that didn’t exist outside of comic books,” Lance said as he motioned toward both Jarog. “Wouldn’t you be a little reserved, cautious at least, until you’ve gotten comfortable with the other races? I’m not defending how cold he can come off, I think it can be a bit much sometimes, but I am asking you to give him a chance to warm up to you guys.”
“We will,” Kolar said with a nod.
“He’s a Hrafn; no matter personality or race, we have each other’s backs,” Valdivia replied with a nod.
“Thank you… if you’d like, I can have a talk with him,” Lance said, walking toward Chadavia.
“Not necessary,” Kolar countered. “I’m just glad you noticed it too.”
Lance looked over Chadavia’s shoulder as he lowered the gun.
“How’s it feel to shoot?” the captain asked.
“Fun… my hands ache for something more familiar, though,” Chadavia replied.
Lance nodded and grabbed the pistol. He held it up to Kolar.
“Want to take a few shots on a lane of your own?” he asked.
The Galio grabbed the pistol, his face lit up.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Yep,” Lance replied. “Besides, if you try anything, Valdivia over there will fill you with more lead than a number two pencil.”
Lance walked over to the weapons locker.
“A what?” Kolar asked.
“It’s an antiquated writing utensil that uses graphene instead of lead after it was discovered how toxic lead actually is to humans,” Valdivia explained.
“But our weapons don’t shoot lead either,” Kolar added.
“Ours used to,” Lance replied as he grabbed the standard-issue pistol. “And the phrasing just stuck.”
Walking over to Chadavia, Lance offered the pistol to his fellow SOAT. The Jarog slowly ran his fingers over the weapon’s frame. Grabbing it, he ejected the empty magazine before the lane spat out a full one for him.
“Hello, old friend,” he muttered to the weapon.
In a flash, the Jarog had the pistol dismantled into its subsequent parts. Kolar even lowered his gun as he watched the SOAT work. Just as quickly as he’d broken it down, he re-assembled it, slid the full magazine in, took aim, and opened fire. Three shots, one hole.
“How’s that feel compared to the other one?” Lance asked.
“So much better!” Chadavia muttered as he paused his shooting.
Kolar raised his gun and took several shots. He was a decent shot, halfway between either Jarog. Lance returned to the weapons locker and picked out a rifle. He walked over to Val and gave her a wink, loading his weapon. A target appeared at the end of the range.
All four fired their weapons. Chadavia disassembled his and put it back together several more times between magazine changes. As Lance ran dry, he lowered his rifle. Biting the inside of his lip, he leaned back and looked at Chadavia.
“You want to play a game?” he shouted.
The Jarog turned to him. Lance noticed a little more life in his mentor. He nodded.
“What’d you have in mind?” Chadavia asked.
“It’s a game called Horse,” Lance explained. “One person calls their shot; they take it and if they hit where they called, then everyone else has to make the same shot. Whoever misses gets a letter. The loser is whomever spells the word Horse first.”
“How does whoever start change?” Kolar asked. “I feel like whoever starts has a distinct advantage.”
“They do,” Lance said with a nod. “Which is why the least experienced player goes first. If Val says she’s going to hit the target center mass but misses, then the next person in line is the new starter.”
“So, we’ll do Val, Chad, you, then me?” Kolar asked.
“Nope, order will be Val, you, Chad, then me,” Lance countered before looking at Valdivia and motioning toward the targets. “You get to go first.”
She picked up her shotgun and aimed at a target. Calling her shot, she took it. Her round hit less than an inch north of where she called.
“Close enough to count,” Lance said before looking at Kolar. “You’re up.”
Kolar took aim and fired. His round hit low.
“That’s an H,” Lance said, nodding at the Galio.
Chadavia took his shot. His bullet hit the outer edge of the hole Valdivia made. Lance took his shot. It passed through without damaging the target. Over the next hour, they continued to play. To everyone’s surprise, Kolar was the first out. Valdivia taunted the Galio to his dismay.
Val wasn’t far behind, to which her tauntee became her taunter. With Chadavia and Lance being the last two, they were neck and neck, putting one hole in a target after taking multiple shots.
They tweaked and refined the rules to progress the game between both equally skilled shots. Gradually, both men had an H.O.R.S. Chadavia was up. He called in the iris of the right eye. His bullet put a hole exactly where he called.
Lance took aim. He glanced at his mentor; the Jarog was smiling and had a semblance of his old self again. Placing his finger on the trigger, he pulled his barrel a fraction to the left and fired. The hole Chadavia made grew by a fraction. Lance lowered his weapon and let out a disappointed “Ahhhhh.” The Jarog punched the air in excitement.
“I won!” he exclaimed.
“You did, great game,” Lance said as he offered Chadavia his hand.
Both men shook. Lance gathered the weapons and returned them to the weapons crate. Kolar escorted Chadavia to the elevator as Val walked over to the soldier.
“I saw what you did,” she whispered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lance replied, cracking a smile.
Valdivia took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Lance winked at her as they both headed toward the elevator. Riding up to the crew deck, Valdivia took Kolar back to his room. The Jarog stepped in before turning back toward Lance.
“Thank you,” he said softly, nodding as his ferns twitched. “That was the first time I’ve felt like myself since it happened.”
“No need to thank me,” Lance replied. “Sometimes the best therapy is just some time on the range. You ever want to go down there, let me know and we can have a rematch.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
ALCAZAR SPACE
Lance stood in the medical bay after Mattias was cleared for visitors. He closed a message from the council demanding he report to them immediately after arriving. The SOAT looked at his teammate, who sat on the side of his bed with a scar on his chest and a Yamanaka Drip connected to his arm.
“How you feeling?” Lance asked, nodding at the doctors as they passed.
“Like a million bucks that’s been tossed in the dryer on tumble,” he muttered as he touched around his wound. “How’d he get that knife off you?”
“I’m still working on that. At least we know that we need to upgrade our armor to be more protective against blades.”
“The blade had nothing to do with it,” Mattias countered with a shake of his head. “What hurt the worst was the force he hit me with. Whoever he was is stronger than you, likely stronger than Dexter. That could’ve been a normal steel knife and my armor still would’ve had no choice but to fail against that attack.”
“Hopefully, the information we were given will shed some light on what exactly happened and give us a little more insight as to what the Reeves are planning.”
“It’s been almost a week; the Alcazar hasn’t decrypted the information yet?”
“The Alcazar don’t have the data; they’re not getting the data. It’s going to my father.”
Mattias tilted his head to the side as he stood up.
“Are you serious? You’re a SOAT. Your obligations are to the entire galaxy now, not just humanity!” Mattias snarled as he raised his voice.
An uncomfortable silence fell upon the physicians as they all turned to look at Lance and Mattias. The captain held his teammate’s challenging gaze.
“Give us the room,” Lance ordered without breaking contact.
In a flash, the entire medical staff was in the corridor with the door shut behind them.
“I am your CO. You do NOT get to give me orders or tell me where my obligations lie,” Lance countered in a stern tone as he stepped toward his subordinate as a heat radiated within his gut. “Not that I owe you an explanation at all, but there’s a list of over three thousand names of Veles agents that are on the Alcazar right now that got into the council’s hands. The entire list wasn’t decrypted, so it’s entirely possible not all the names made it to light.”
Lance stepped closer, now so close he felt Mattias’ hot breath against his face.
“And the fact that the last time I spoke with Lieutenant General Warder, he looked scared and was actually running, leads me to believe that someone higher up than him is compromised,” Lance added, punctuating his father’s rank for effect.
“He looked scared?” Mattias asked.
Lance nodded. Mattias took a step back and sat on his bed.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, lowering his head. “I was out of line; I didn’t mean to question your leadership or authority. I just want to make sure we’re the best representatives we can be for humanity.”
“Yes, you did,” Lance countered as he placed a hand on Mattias’ non-injured shoulder. “I know being forced to step down isn’t easy for you and I thank you for not being a pain in my side about it. As you can imagine, I need my teammates willing to question my decisions; it helps keep me honest. But what I don’t need is someone undermining my authority in front of the crew. Next time you have an issue, come to me and we’ll talk about it.”
“Yes, sir,” Mattias replied with a nod. “Understood.”
“Good, because if you ever pull a stunt like that again… I don’t care if you have a stab wound to your chest, you’ll be doing pushups until your arms fall off.”
“Punishment fits the crime.”
“If you’re all rested up, I’d get your suit, or at the very least your uniform on,” Lance suggested. “We should be hitting Alcazar space any moment.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Also, I’ve known you long enough to get it’s part of your personality, but I’ve overheard some of the crew mention that you seem a little standoffish to them. They’re worried you may be a little xenophobic.”
