“Releasing a million Imperials all at once is your idea of defending a vault world?”
Melvin’s berating of Schultz finally finished after a long two minutes. For his part, Schultz did not react with an outburst of anger, but replied, “The results are plain to see, Melvin. The Harvesters have been driven out of system and the vault world still stands.”
“That does not answer the question, Schultz. What do you mean to do with all those hot and angry young men swarming around down there? You can’t just stuff them back in the freezer as easily as putting your lunch in the fridge.”
Holzman spoke and answered for Schultz, “He obviously means to integrate them into a legion of his own, Melvin.”
“That’s outrageous! He’s not even one of the Three!”
Schultz grinned at Melvin’s hologram, “Are you so sure about that?”
To Schultz’s great pleasure, Melvin finally shut his yap and turned an ear for Lady Margeret to speak. When she replied, he was not disappointed.
“It was a stroke of tactical genius on Commissar Schultz part to lure the Harvesters into an ambush such as it was. Between the already active planetary defense forces and the newly awakened troopers, I’m told that nearly every single Harvester unit planet-side was eliminated. Suffice to say gentlemen, We are pleased.”
“Then the decision?” Holzman asked and the three Commissars held their breath.
“Commissar Schultz is to immediately assume command of Langrin’s former legion and to take his place as one of the Three. Any troopers he awakened on the vault world are to be augmented to his existing forces. The Queen has thus decided.”
Holzman bowed, as did Melvin, but Schultz could tell that he was holding back some sort of nasty comment. Seeing that he was getting everything he wanted, Schultz bowed along with them and said, “As the Queen commands. We live to serve and repay, my Lady.”
“Yes, yes. See to it that you find a commendable logistics staff, Lord Commissar. I hear feeding over a million men can get complicated.”
Schultz bowed again and Lady Margeret signed off. He and the other members of the Three did not have much further to say, seeing that they could more easily communicate via electronic letter mail. Holzman’s hologram flickered off, but Melvin stayed behind. The fluffy Commissar just stared at Schultz with his beady eyes a moment longer and then he too left.
After he double checked that all the communications suites were indeed off and not listening without his consent, Schultz opened up a channel to Tellaz.
“This is your new Lord Commissar speaking, Tellaz.”
“Ha! I knew they wouldn’t deny you sir.”
“Indeed. Do you have that list I asked for?”
“Aye sir, every technician, logos man and Commissar from Langrin’s forces has been ID’d.”
“Get the S-4 to bring them under his wing. I want them organized into the new regimental system, tell them they have a year before I put them to the test.”
“Did you get the approval for that, sir?”
“I’ll get it later, I’m one of the Three now. I also want plans drawn up for the assault on the Delos Array. I plan to take the fleet there when they're ready."
“Aye sir. Oh, the Specialist arrived while you were on the comm.”
“Did he cause any problems?”
“Negative, I transferred him to the new guy. They should be training right now.”
Schultz grunted and leaned back in his chair. Everything was falling into place on his end. Now he just had to hope that Haylock kid survived the special training he had planned for him. He asked the Specialist to go easy on him, but that guy gave him the chills just being near him. Schultz often wondered if he was doing the right thing, aligning himself with such weirdos and degenerates, but in the end he always came back to the same idea.
“Such is the price of freedom…”
----------------------------------------
When Haylock had been told he was being transferred to a new ship for special training, he had wanted to say goodbye one last time to his friends. Unfortunately, Tellaz had threatened to toss Haylock over his shoulder and bodily carry him if he did not come with him right away. Given how big the brute was, Haylock was convinced he would probably do it too.
Now he wandered the decks of a new jump ship and wondered where everyone was at.
Ships could seem pretty empty, depending what time of the ship cycle it was, but Haylock did not see a single person on his way to the jump bay. No technicians, troopers, or Commissars. It was eerie drawing down those corridors, their usual narrow space now vast caverns without other souls to push by in their tight confines.
He briefly considered hijacking the whole ship and blitzing off into the wider ‘verse, but he also had no idea how to pilot a vessel of this size, so that idea died as quickly as it was born.
The jump bay was equally devoid of any life and even as Haylock marched all the way to the end of the bay, there was no one there to greet him. With a solid kick to the bay’s portal generator, Haylock wheeled around and started stalking back toward the entrance.
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“You’re late.”
A commanding voice wheezed behind him and when Haylock looked, a man in Stormtrooper armor stood at the far wall. It was strange, because the portal generators were not running and there was no other explanation for this sudden appearance. As Haylock's brain could not process all this information at once, his mouth made an automatic reply.
“I was ordered to be here 1600. It’s 1559.”
“If you’re not here fifteen minutes early, then you’re late.”
“Ah.” Haylock was disappointed that even though he was in special training now, there was still that military mindset of ‘hurry up and wait’. Yet, when he thought about it, he did not know what kind of ‘special training’ was planned for him. Schultz’s ideals and movement sounded grand and all, but what use could a single trooper be?
“Do you even know why you’re here? Your slack face belies the ignorance of a pig led to the pen.”
Haylock ignored the insult and replied, “I’m here for special training.”
The mysterious man tsk-ed and waved a hand. A monitor flickered to life on one of the wall screens. Normally they would show timers and trooper wave counts for jump deployment organization, but this one had a video playing. Hundreds of Screamers were charging toward the grainy camera source and Haylock realized that he was watching a video of the tunnel battle shortly before he passed out. Specifically, from his point of view.
“What is this?” He asked, but the other man pointed at the screen without replying.
The Screamers were getting closer, despite all the lead he and his friends were pouring into them, they kept coming. Haylock heard himself scream, a desperate, primal cry, and something bright cascaded from him.
Lightning.
A giant bolt of it took the lead Screamer in the chest and jumped from foe to foe until every beast was scorched and twitching from the electric attack. The camera view suddenly shifted and all he could see was the dirt ceiling and Snell’s masked face hovering over him.
“I don’t understand.” The truth was on the edge of his mind, but he did not want to admit it. Haylock shook and shouted, “What is this fabrication?!”
“It is what it is. What else did you think killed all those Screamers?”
“I don’t know, a dart grenade? Maybe the blast concussion knocked me out? I don’t know?!”
“You saw the video. You do know. You’re lucky your Commissar scrubbed the evidence.” Haylock heard the next three words drop like bombs.
“You used mana.”
“Witchcraft…” Haylock hissed and gnashed his teeth. He couldn't have used mana. He did not dabble in that sorcery.
“Ignorance, such ignorance. Of course you used mana. How else could you have channeled lightning to save yourself and your friends?”
“I, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never heard of an Imperial man who could do such a thing.”
“Well, your Emperors tried breeding it out. They failed, obviously,” the armored man gestured to Haylock. “Now that you’re here though, we’ve decided you’re a useful tool, too valuable to squander like the others.”
“A tool for what?”
“Why, to tear down the,” the man paused, “witches and their queen.”
“Fight magic with magic then?”
That question earned Haylock a derisive snort, but the idea of using the enemy’s own tools against them was intriguing.
“Mana is not magic, despite what those silly little girls call themselves. It is a fundamental force of the universe.” With steepled hands the stranger growled, “And I will be your guide to the deeper secrets.”
“You have experience? You can wield it too?”
“Of course.”
Haylock’s mind spun with these sudden revelations. First, he learned the horrible truth of the Compact a few weeks ago and now this? It was too much.
“I think I need to lie down and think about this.”
“Lay on the floor if you must, but you will not leave. From now on, slave, you will live in this room. Food will be brought to you and your waste will be disposed of.”
“Now hold on. My name is Haylock and I am not a slave!”
The armored man jerked his head in a confused tilt and jittered. Haylock thought the stranger might have been choking for a moment until he realized he was being laughed at.
“Knowing the truth as you do, you would find offense with that term?”
The truth. It still gnawed on Haylock’s stomach in every waking moment. His passive desire to shoot the commissars had blossomed into a full on rage that he barely kept in check every time he saw one of those traitors. Yet despite the abuse heaped on his people, the degradation, he was still a man of the Empire. Pride made him look the stranger in his faceplate and say, “I am Gouf Haylock, son of some vat probably, but by the blood of my fallen brothers, I will free my people from their chains. I will never be a slave again.”
“Very good.” The teacher approached, hands behind his back. For the first time, Haylock heard the thick accent in his voice. It was not just a different dialect, but the way it was spoken. This teacher’s voice ripped out like it was spoken very deliberately and with great effort.
“You will need that strength of will in the coming days, but for now, I require malleability.” He stopped just short of bumping into Haylock and in his eye visor there was nothing but an empty void. “I will give you a new name as you cast off your old identity and grasp the power to change your fate. Tell it to no one, not even that Commissar.”
“No. My name is,” Haylock’s voice was cut off as he felt like he could not breathe anymore. It was not that he was choking on an object, but there was a lack of air reaching his lungs. Something invisible was plugging his mouth and nose, stopping and air from getting in. He snapped and gnashed his jaws, but the invisible barrier refused to give way and let precious oxygen through. After a minute Haylock grabbed the other man in panic and tried shaking him, but he might as well as tried to move a stone.
Armored fingers entered Haylock’s jaw and burst the invisible bubble that had been suffocating him. Haylock tried to take a breath, but it caught when the other man lifted him by the mouth off the floor with one hand. He gagged and struck at his armored foe, but he succeeded in only bloodying his fragile knuckle skin.
The struggle ended when he was cast back to the ground like a rag doll, a copper taste filled Haylock’s mouth and he spat blood at his attacker’s feet.
“Even now, defiant? Yes, surely you deserve this name.” The man’s hand grabbed Haylock’s chin, but this time he was gentle. “The moans of our foes will herald the coming day of celebration when we cast off their bonds and you shall be its vanguard. Your life belongs to me now, no longer a slave, but no longer a mere man either. I shall make you more. From henceforth, you are Karahata, Lord of the Dawn and Breaker of Chains. Rise and take your place beside me.” With a firm hand, he helped Haylock to his feet and brushed his shoulder like they were already old friends.
Not wanting to get cast down to the ground again, Haylock wiped the blood off his face and asked, “What then shall I call you?” The teacher’s hand stopped and settled on Haylock with an uncomfortable grip.
“Master.”
Haylock’s Stats
Strength 10 Constitution 11 Reaction 11 Authority 11 Mana 50/50 Special Abilities N/A