“I’ll have to station some of you here,” Ivan said to the 50 or so soldiers that followed him on foot, circling around a storage building large enough to hold the largest cargo transport planes in the Empire. “Find a spot as we walk and spread yourselves apart. This is a massive building.”
None of the soldiers, even the Anti-Imperialists, had seen a building so grand. They wondered why it had been abandoned in the first place, although some of the more historically informed ones remembered the deal the southern Yeupisians had made with the Empire four decades earlier. That undeniably had something to do with Depot-011’s desertion.
“There’s only been a handful of Titanian soldiers,” one of Ivan’s subordinates commented. “How many have we taken down?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t had the information shared with me yet,” Ivan responded. “But we have tough people on our side. I wouldn’t be surprised if at least a couple were taken down.”
As they turned a corner, Ivan noticed a shape on the ground, cast from the lights illuminating the vicinity of each building and every road in the depot. It was tall, armored and holding a pistol. It was the shadow created by the figure of a man. Not a Titanian, but a Terran.
Ivan didn’t hesitate to fire a half dozen shots at the figure as he completed the corner turn, before retreating back into the safety of the side he’d just entered from. He heard a groan of pain as he pressed his back against the wall.
“It’s only one guy!” he cried, having analyzed the situation with just a glimpse. “I need half of you to go ‘round the building from the other side. We’re launching a pincer attack on this bastard.”
10 of the 20 soldiers who had followed him to that point raced around the side of the building, 30 seconds passing before their footsteps disappeared. The other 10 remained at Ivan’s side as backup. He would be taking the lead to face the threat head-on before risking the safety of any of his subordinates.
Here goes nothing, Ivan thought to himself with a breath.
Firmly holding his pistol in his hand, he jumped around the corner. A laser whizzed past Ivan’s head and Ivan responded with five rapid-fire gunshots. He heard a groan, so at least one bullet hit the man. He had shot the man twice but found that he was still standing. Suddenly the man threw his pistol onto the ground. Ivan was confused, gazing at him without shooting. His hand still tightly clutched his pistol, but his finger was far from the trigger.
“Ivan, can we… stop for just a few seconds?” the Terran in Titanian armor spoke as he winced from the pain.
“Who the hell are you?” Ivan cried. Despite asking the question, Ivan felt like he already knew the man under the armor.
The man pressed a barely visible knob at the junction where his helmet met his cuirass. The helmet folded in on itself, retracting into the armor that covered his torso. Ivan was not surprised to see the young man’s face. In fact, he smirked.
“So lovely to see you again, traitor. How many people do you intend on killing tonight?”
Meinrad furrowed his brow.
“I don’t want to kill anyone today, so let’s just cooperate.”
“I’m sure that’s what you thought when you and Klaudia snuffed the light out of our—my comrades in the mountain,” Ivan rolled his eyes. “Now give me a reason not to blow your brains out right now. You’ve just made yourself an exceptional target.”
“I know you’re stronger than all the rest here,” Meinrad said, the presence of the 50 soldiers surrounding the building in his awareness. “I will spare them if you challenge me to a knife duel if you win.”
“And what if you win?” Ivan raised a brow.
“They’ll all scatter when they see their leader’s body drop to the ground. I won’t have to do anything.” Meinrad said, his tone diplomatic yet threatening.
“Alright,” Ivan adjusted his footing, swiftly replacing his pistol in its holster and unsheathing a knife in one move. “I accept your challenge, you scumbag.”
--
After once again switching on the power after having to shut it off in order to repel the Flash of the Frei Squad, Stefan was tasked with confirming the death of the girl Vi had downed by shooting the powerline that was above her head. It had been a few minutes since the incident, but Stefan quickly noticed that the Lucia’s body was now attended by a kneeling person who had removed her helmet, revealing red-brown singed hair. The person had two fingers pressed against the side of her neck.
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“Pulse confirmed, Bravo.” the figure spoke presumably into an earpiece built into the helmet he wore.
“Who are you!?” Stefan cried, brandishing his pistol, and pointing it at the armored individual. They quickly shot up to their feet and put their hands up, not before pressing a knob that sheathed their helmet.
“Stef… it’s me. Joakim.”
His face had aged from the trauma of the past year, and his short black hair had grown down to his shoulders. But Stefan’s older brother was finally in front of him. Speaking to him.
“Joakim,” Stefan spoke, his lip quivering. His arms were shaking from the sheer disbelief of seeing his brother right before him. At that moment, he didn’t care that he was in the enemy uniform or fighting for their side. “Thank goodness, you’re safe…!”
He stepped over Lucia’s unconscious form, ready to embrace Joakim. But the boy backed up. Stefan stopped, confused as to why Joakim was refusing to receive a warm embrace from him.
“I can’t hug you.” Joakim spoke sternly.
All Stefan could do was stare blankly in to the boy’s eyes. How could Joakim not want to feel the touch of his dear brother who had seen only once briefly since the day their lives changed forever? The younger boy noted something strange in Joakim’s eyes. A darkness inside them that he couldn’t comprehend. A darkness that he did not want near him for too long.
Joakim’s face lightened up and a grin was plastered on his lips.
“You’ve gotten really tall, Stef.” the boy finally smiled, using his arm to mark the height difference between them. The top of Joakim’s head just barely lined up with his brother’s lips. The signs that they were indeed half-brothers by blood were very evident now, even though they were both born and raised in the same house to the same mother.
“I… yeah. I guess I have changed quite a bit,” Stefan shrugged. “You as well.”
“You’ve been keeping yourself busy this time, I see,” Joakim noted. “I’m sure you’ve made a lot of friends. After all, to face everything you have on your own…”
“I have,” Stefan nodded.
The younger Laine boy couldn’t help but feel that he was talking to someone else. Another person wearing his brother’s skin. This sullen, jaded version of Joakim was not the one he knew, the one he grew up with.
“Listen,” Stefan sighed. “Let’s just cut the crap. I want to hear everything that happened to you from the moment Uncle Ruben pushed me out into the forest.”
“I…” Joakim hesitated. It would be a long story and time to save Lucia was running out. “I can’t tell you every single thing that’s gone down. Sit down and listen closely because you won’t hear it again.”
Stefan obeyed, being forced to sit on one side of Lucia while Joakim sat on the other. In three minutes, Joakim explained how he tried to stop their mother from being shot, only for her to jump in and save him instead. He described her brutal execution, followed by his and Ruben Holt’s arrest and transport to Xanadu Penitentiary on Titan where they endured a cruel, merciless eight months of psychological torture. Then by some miracle, the very General who had ordered their mother’s death had them freed, only for Ruben to meet the same fate as Kallista Laine. Before passing, he admitted that he was Joakim’s biological father. After that Joakim had been sent to serve in the Frei Squad. It wasn’t a choice—either join them or meet his parents. So he’d been in the Titanian leagues, ever since then.
Stefan, by the end, had become a sobbing mess. He hadn’t been aware of the extent of his brother’s pain, but learning of it and knowing of the manner of his mother and uncle-figure’s deaths and the true relation of Ruben Holt to his brother, there was absolutely no way he could dam the flood of tears that pushed through the corners of his eyes.
“Joakim…” Stefan sniffled. “You can come back. Trust me, you can leave those freakish brutes and join us. You can destroy the bastards who killed Mum and Uncle Ruben with us. We can be together again, and—and you can meet my friends and I know they’ll really, really like you. Sure, you might be locked up for a little while because you were on the enemy side… but you haven’t killed anyone. Right? Right?”
“I can’t,” Joakim said, blinking away tears. He was on the verge of weeping, but not because of his own pain. It viscerally hurt to see his little brother so helpless, and nothing he said would alleviate it. “Not yet. I can’t come back just yet.”
“Why?” Stefan said, astonished that Joakim refused his offer.
“Because I still need to understand the truth of why everything is the way it is. I can’t do that from this world.”
“You don’t need to know the truth, Joakim. Can’t you just… be happy and stay with me?” Stefan quivered.
Joakim sighed as he slid his arms underneath Lucia’s form, unmoving except for her chest. Her breaths were becoming less and less noticeable by the minute.
“I want to see you again, Stef. But I have things to do. Take care of yourself.”
Joakim stood up with the unconscious girl in his strong arms, forcing himself to ignore his brother’s pleas. The thrusters on his jetpack sparked up and in seconds, he was gone, becoming smaller and smaller as he flew away to another area of the Depot. Gunshots flew in his direction, but the automatic tracking technology allowed him to avoid them without needing full knowledge on how to operate the jetpack manually.
Two sets of rapid footsteps soon approached Stefan as he remained seated, holding his head in his hands.
“Stefan, what’s going on?” Vigdis said as she sat down by his side accompanied by Valto, immediately recognising something wasn’t right. “Why were you speaking with the enemy soldier?”
“That…” Stefan started, wiping his face of tears. “That was Joakim. My brother.”