Mike felt sweat soaking into the back of his shirt as he ran through campus. The sound of his feet striking pavement reverberated off the walls of the ornate stone buildings that towered over the parking lot he was jogging through.
He lifted his arm and glanced at his watch, and let loose a breathless "Fuck!"
It read 8:58. The test started at 9.
Mike tightened the straps on his backpack and picked up the pace. The building was still almost a mile away. He took a shortcut through a small park and then weaved through the crowded university plaza as he approached his destination. Mike bounded up the steps leading to the door two at a time as he hurried into the building.
He checked his watch as he pushed open the door. It was 9:03.
"Fuck me."
Mike slowed down and began to catch his breath as he strode through the busy hallway, trying to hide that he had just run two miles. He turned a corner and began scanning the placards on the wall, searching… There! 103A.
He checked his watch again, 9:05.
Fuck.
Mike entered the dark lecture hall and met the gaze of Professor Dret'la, who stopped what she was saying and looked at him, annoyed for a moment. She was standing at the lectern, flanked by four Kaelithi soldiers and an officer who towered over her already impressive stature.
Why are they here?
The professor resumed as Mike quickly found an open seat in the back. The projector transitioned to a slide showing the imperial seal.
"As I was saying, you will be called in one by one for interviews. They will take about ten minutes."
The tall, sea lion-like Kaelithi professor did an about-face and marched out a side door while conversing with the officer. The soldiers began to move into the crowd and, after a few moments and some quiet words, left with four students in tow.
Mike looked around the room and guessed around 150-200 people were in it.
I'm going to be here for a while…
The room filled with quiet conversation after the Kael soldiers left. He looked at the guy beside him and whispered, "What's happening?"
He said, "They are testing us for some kind of program on Kael Prime."
Mike's eyebrows raised a little, "What kind of program?"
"She didn't say."
Why wouldn't they say what the program is? And why am I here? I didn't sign up for any programs.
Mike slumped over the flip-up desk and sat there for a few minutes, nursing his hangover in silence. He saw someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye.
Oh great…
A charming brunette girl wearing a dark blue sailing jacket with MARINA written in grey letters down the sleeve plopped down into the seat next to him.
She spoke with a slight Italian accent, "You're Mike, right?"
He answered, "Yeah, why."
Mike knew exactly why she was talking to him.
She smiled and politely asked, "Why don't you ever come to our meetings?"
Isabella Campioni, the president of the school's veteran group, had been bombarding Mike with emails every week for the past month. He'd been in her crosshairs ever since he'd made an appearance at a dinner party she helped organize; he had only shown up for the free booze.
"I'm trying to put the war behind me, and besides, I'm too busy. Plus I don't think anyone besides you wants me there."
She folded her arms and said, "It's easier to do that together. Enrique has talked a lot about you; everyone wants to hear a few of his stories from a more… grounded perspective. Plus, he's worried about you; he thinks you're depressed."
Christ! Why doesn't he hate me!?
Mike was brainstorming ways to get rid of her as he said, "Tell him not to worry; I'm fine."
She raised an eyebrow and stuck her hand out, "Ok. Give me your phone."
"Uhh, why?"
"I don't believe you. I'm putting my number in there just in case you need to talk."
Mike wanted to say no, but he couldn't. He unlocked his phone and handed it to Isabella. She quickly began tapping away.
She returned his phone and said, "I'm going to text you every day until you come to a meeting."
He looked at the contact. She had put herself in as Isabella with a heart and Italian flag emoji.
Mike rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. If you leave me alone—I'll come to a meeting."
She beamed at him as she got up, "I can't wait."
Mike let out a sigh of relief as she walked away from him. It was true that his enthusiasm for life had been dampened since the war, although he thought he managed to hide it well, most of the time. He was the freshman class president when he started college in his home state two years ago. Now, the only things he did outside of class were lift, drink, play chess, and sometimes sleep. He struggled to interact with his peers beyond a superficial level.
Anyone would after having led 2187 men to their deaths.
And what pointless deaths they were.
In hindsight, Mike thought he should have known that World War Three was a hoax. The news went on and on about rising tensions across the globe. The entire planet started mobilizing men and industry, but no shots were ever fired. Mike was plucked out of college two weeks into his second semester, sent off to basic training, and then to West Point. He was around 8 months into his advanced officer training when he was suddenly commissioned. Not even two days later, the Kaelithi Empire had invaded.
There was nothing they could do. Kael soldiers were nearly invulnerable to human weapons, and they had total fire superiority. The only major blow humanity landed was in the very last days of the war, destroying a convoy of ships that carried a Kaelithi military governor as they were landing in New York City. They were blown out of the sky by the old battleships USS Iowa and New Jersey. The museum ships had sat right under the Kael’s noses for weeks as they were refitted in secret to shoot 16-inch depleted uranium APFSDSHE stuffed with 1-kiloton nuclear warheads. The Kael had held the city for three weeks, totally unaware of the danger as the old battleships waited for a high-value target to come along. It accomplished nothing in the grand scheme of things; the battleships were vaporized from orbit moments later, and a new governor accepted the UN coalition's unconditional surrender less than a week later.
Mike remembered the cheers that rang out in the bunkers when they got the news.
At least it raised morale for a while…
The Kael grafted themselves atop Earth's existing governments; they did little to alter their structures besides streamlining a few bureaucracies and purging resistance sympathizers. World leaders who once wielded nuclear weapons were now glorified city councilors. Oddly enough, life continued as usual for the most part, and maddeningly, the Kael did a better job governing Earth than humans ever did.
They cleaned up the Earth's pollution and reversed many of the effects of climate change. Their medicine was miraculous, crime was down, homelessness was nearly nonexistent, and the stock market was booming. They even gave Mike a scholarship to this school, the Imperial University of Terra, before it was even built. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows; of course, nothing ever is. There was an active resistance movement, although it wasn't doing so hot. And the Kael weren't quite through the human culture learning curve yet. Their worst faux pas thus far was an attempt to bring back the nobility in the first months of their rule, but they quickly stopped due to widespread backlash.
He snapped back to reality after his neighbor lightly tapped his shoulder.
A Kael soldier, the biggest he'd ever seen, was talking to him. This wasn't one of the four he had seen in the room earlier. It looked like a walrus-gorilla hybrid that was blasting tren. Usually, Kael males were around 7 to 8 feet tall, but this guy had to be pushing 9. Mike would be surprised if it weighed any less than 600 lbs.
The hulking Kael asked in a gravelly voice, "Micheal Anderson?"
"Yes?"
"Come with me. Bring your stuff."
He followed the colossus out of the lecture hall, through the hallway, and down a flight of stairs into the basement and another hallway. Eventually, they reached an office.
The giant Kael opened the door for him. Mike saw a familiar face sitting behind the desk in the dimly lit office.
"Hello again, Captain Anderson."
Fuck!
The Kael woman stared at Mike. Her white face was speckled with black like cookies and cream ice cream. She was the polar opposite of the Kael who escorted him to the office: slender, graceful, and short. She looked like a seal mixed with a ballerina. Her baby blue dress uniform was adorned with dozens of silver and gold decorations.
Hell, she's almost cute.
She waved her hand toward the chair in front of her desk. "Have a seat."
Mike said, "Colonel Ocidea," as he pulled the chair out and sat.
Why the fuck was a Kaelithi special forces officer at the Imperial University of Terra?
Her black eyes and silver mustache glistened as she leaned back in her chair. "I was surprised to see you on the candidate list. I would have guessed a hunter of your caliber would have a herd by now. I am doubly surprised to find you at our university, given how you felt about it two years ago; if I recall correctly, you told me to stick my data pad where the sun doesn't shine when I offered you a spot." She barked in a manner that seemed like a chuckle.
Mike put on his poker face and said, "Candidate for what exactly?"
Ocidea smiled, revealing a set of teeth, primarily canines. "Officer training, the Emperor, may he conquer all, has decided to begin military integration early for the humans. I have been put in charge of the selection pack."
She used her neural implant to open her AR. She sent his datapad a file containing an imperial bull authorizing the training and commissioning of up to ten human officers who met a specific set of criteria. Mike quickly scanned the document.
Candidates must be under 25 years old.
Candidates must have at least two years of military service, but no more than four.
Candidates must be able to communicate in Kaelic without a translation chip.
Candidates must have no affiliation with partisans or terrorists, as affirmed by a thorough background check.
Candidates must not have any mates or pups.
"I checked your file; you pass the criteria."
Mike felt his stomach drop.
She smiled. "You are now an imperial cadet. You will report to the University Hospital for medical immediately. At 12:00, you will report to the Broken Fin for transport to Kael prime."
Mike's poker face slipped as his jaw clenched.
FUCK!
She continued, "Once you arrive, you will complete basic training, after which you will be sent to the Crucible, the results of which will determine your future. You are not permitted to reveal this information to anyone, including your family. We will handle that. The details of your pay and enlistment contract will be explained to you later."
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"I'm guessing that I don't have a fucking choice?" His knuckles turned white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.
Colonel Ocidea softened her posture, or it at least looked like she did to Mike. She leaned across the desk, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, "No, I can't let you slip my net. It's not often that a primitive can outhunt Kael."
Mike's eyes were simmering with fury; he stood up, hands subtly shaking with rage. He took a deep breath and spoke. His voice became deadly calm, but his eyes epitomized primal fury.
"Am I dismissed?"
The seal woman stood, head only reaching to his chin. "You are dismissed, cadet."
He left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Colonel Ocidea heard the pup bark "FUCK!" through the door. She sighed in relief; for a moment, she thought she may have had to do this the hard way. She opened her AR, cut Mike's access to all digital forms of communication, and sent her security team a message. "Follow him. If he tries to run off or talk to anyone, tranq him and put him on the ship."
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Mike was so angry he felt sick. He walked back into his apartment, trying to ignore the three Kaels outside. He quickly changed into new clothes. He set all of the clothes he was wearing and also his watch, wallet, and phone on the bed like he was told. He packed a bag with a few changes of clothes, his school datapad, and his old laptop. He picked up a family picture from his nightstand. He paused momentarily, holding the wood-framed photograph taken four years ago at the beach. Mike and his sister Daisy hugged their Mom and laughed as they waded in the surf. Their Dad had taken the picture.
It felt like someone poured acid down his throat. Tears were forming. I'm probably never going to see them again.
He wrapped the picture inside of a hoodie.
At least they would know he was alive.
There was a knock on the door. It was time to go.
He quickly stuffed the hoodie into the bottom of the bag and zipped it up. He wiped his face as he looked around one last time at his dorm room, wondering what his roommates would think of his disappearance. He hadn't been very close with them, or really anyone else for that matter, but they were still friends. They had even managed to get him drunk enough to pry the story of the broadsword mounted above his bed out of him.
Mike was stopped by the big Kael as he exited the room.
It reached out with a humungous hand and said, "Bag."
Mike sighed and handed it over.
The big Kael rummaged carefully through his bag and handed him the picture. It spoke surprisingly softly, "This has to stay, kid; I'm sorry."
Mike nodded and held back tears. He went back into his room and set the picture down. He quickly walked out the door and said, "Ok, let's go."
If he stopped even for a moment, he would break down.
So, he kept moving.
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Colonel Ocidea stood behind a two-way mirror and watched as the human went through the scanner that resembled an MRI machine with tubes drawing blood attached to his arm. She heard footsteps in the hallway behind her. General Dobenius and Professor Dret'la barged into the room, mustaches bristling with irritation.
Information from the ongoing scan was being filed onto the large datapad.
Human Male, brown hair, blue eyes, 20 years old. 6 foot 3.2 inches tall, 191.7 lbs. 16.8% body fat. VO2 max 75…
Ocidea spoke without turning around, "He grew; when we scanned him 2 years ago, he was an inch shorter and fifteen pounds lighter. I didn't know humans grew after reaching adulthood."
The professor replied, "Most stop growing around 18, but it's not uncommon for their growth plates to still be open until 20. Brain-wise, humans aren't fully developed until 25."
"What does that matter?" The general growled. "Who is this? You said we would make the selections together. And his orders say he departs today. Is he not going through the agreed preparation process?"
Before she could answer his question, the professor asked, "And why is he going to the crucible and not the Royal Military Academy?"
She turned towards the general, pausing for a moment in consideration. "This is Captain Mike Anderson. I can show you part of his file, but the rest will have to wait. I only sent in the request for discretionary distribution a week ago. You know how the records office is; it will probably be a while. But I'll send you the full file as soon as my request clears, general." She turned her gaze to the tall Kael professor, "And for the crucible, call it personal curiosity."
The general's brows raised, and his mustache puffed in surprise. He had heard rumors about a human similar to this, but he didn't believe them. "Why the fuck would a 20-year-old human's file be classified in the first place?"
Professor Dret'la's mustache furrowed even more as she pulled up the human's full body scan and bloodwork on her AR. Concern rang through her voice as she said, "He doesn't seem entirely mentally stable." She scrolled to the bottom of the report, eyes widening. She dragged the report onto the big data pad and asked, "Why is he in extreme emotional distress? His cortisol levels are extremely high and all of his pain receptors are firing!"
The colonel took on a sheepish look, "I may not have given the pup a choice. I also initiated ghost protocol."
The general lunged towards the colonel, stopping inches away from her. She didn't move an inch." THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" Spittle flew across the room, and the general's lips rolled back, fully exposing his scarred tusks. "GHOST PROTOCOL WAS BANNED ON PAIN OF DEATH 7 YEARS AGO!"
Colonel Ocidea stared down the general as she wiped a glob of spit from her shoulder. She cut his retort off coldly, "Need I remind you that the emperor, may he conquer all, personally gave me the mandate for Project Napoleon?"
The general restrained himself just enough to stop launching spit across the room as he roared, "Ocidea, I wash my hands of this. I want my name off the program immediately."
Ocidea scoffed as she said, "Don't worry about that General; he's not going into the ledger, at least until I see what happens at the crucible."
The professor scowled with arms folded and leaned against the window. "At least tell us why you are pressing this one into service and faking its death."
Ocidea paused, "Have you read much about the human called Napoleon?"
She continued before either could answer her question, "I named the project after him because he is considered to be the greatest human general to ever live. I chose to accelerate this one's path and use ghost protocol because I fear that this pup may rival him given the chance. He managed to break his battalion out of an encirclement and successfully executed a fighting retreat on day one. After a week of small ambushes, he led the only successful human ground engagement of the war, wiping out two packs of commandos and a few hundred regulars, routing an entire brigade.”
The general snorted. He clearly didn't believe what Colonel Ocidea was saying. She continued, “He suffered dearly for it, of course, but he was able to withdraw again and hold against an overwhelming assault until the UN surrendered, killing a hundred regulars in the process. Had his soldiers been equipped with modern weapons, we would have had to glass the entire east coast of North America. In sum, he is too dangerous to keep on Earth, and his talents may come in handy against the conglomerate."
The general interrupted her with a laugh, “Have you finally broken after all these years Ocidea? The only place we lost that many soldiers was in Philadelphia, and that was because of friendly fire. I was personally at General Kle’taur’s trial and execution.”
The naive professor also sounded her dissent, "You can't expect me to believe that. The only commandos lost during the exercise died in shuttle accidents! I saw the reports, signed by you, with my own eyes."
Ocidea was getting frustrated by their disbelief. “I was there, in Philadelphia, Dobenius. It wasn’t friendly fire that killed them. It was a band of humans, led by Mike Anderson, who’d all rather die fighting with shovels than surrender with rifles in their arms. Kle’taur was the scapegoat. She was a fool. She underestimated the humans time and time again, even after they had shown themselves to be a threat. But if you really believe that someone with as much experience as her, or even the lowliest cadet for that matter, would call for orbital bombardment on their own positions, twice, you are much more of a fool than she ever was.”
The general stroked his mustache. He did think it was quite strange that Kle’taur bombed herself twice.
Incredulity was still plastered across the professor's face. "How?"
Ocidea spoke softly as she dragged a video file from her AR to the large data pad. "I can only show you this right now. This was one of my girls from the 51st commandos, Huntress First Class Ulay. It doesn't show any of the human's tactical genius, but it does show one of the reasons I'm interested in what he does in the Crucible."
She paused for a moment and added, "Don't call it an exercise; for them, it was a war."
The video appeared on the screen. It was a visor cam recording. The thumbnail showed a stack of shipping containers.
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Mike stumbled drunkenly through the spaceport, prodded along by the giant Kael. He had been drinking whisky like it was water. Mike was surprised that he let him buy it when they stopped to get him clothes and toiletries for the trip. "Want a sip?"
The 9-foot-tall Kael ignored him.
He took another swig of his now half-empty whiskey bottle.
Might as well make the best of the situation.
Alcohol in large enough doses could sometimes bring Mike back to his prewar disposition.
He slurred as he asked, "What's your name."
The behemoth didn't answer.
Mike started drunkenly laughing as he said, "You don't fool me; I can tell you're secretly a teddy bear," he hiccupped and gestured to the Kael's bulk, "under all that."
The Kael looked at him in stride and raised the corner of his mustache and eyebrow in sync. The human burped, then laughed, "I'll get you talking, big guy, don't you worry."
They approached the landing pad where the Broken Fin was parked.
The ship was a freighter, about 400 feet long, almost entirely rectangular, painted dark green, and had a mount on its nose for an orbital leader. Mike fumbled with the zipper as he stowed his bottle in his bag. It clinked against a few other bottles he had bought for the trip.
As they boarded the ship, the bewildered leviathan let forth a Kaelic rumble, "Humans are fucking weird."
Mike laughed, “If you think I’m weird you should check out a comic con, it’ll blow your socks off.”
Mike looked around the interior of the Broken Fin. The room he entered was about 20 feet wide and 60 feet long. It was all one big room but had 3 distinct sections. The front was taken up by the cockpit. The middle section was the mess and rec hall. There was a kitchen, a long table with two benches, and a couple of couches arrayed in a semi-circle in front of the wall. The rear had a dozen Kael-sized bunk beds. Although they may not be long enough for his absolute unit of an escort. The only doors he could see were in the back, two for bathrooms, one in the middle going to the cargo hold, and one for the captain's quarters.
The entire crew stopped what they were doing and stared at Mike. There were seven females and three males. Mike stumbled over to one of the couches and plopped down with a groan. His giant overseer followed but didn't sit. The three males in the crew all had tusks more than twice the length of any Mike had seen before.
The captain was big, around 8 feet tall, and his tusks were at least 3 feet long. His fur was light brown. His white uniform's sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms thicker than Mike's legs and covered in Kael tattoos that looked like they were made by a cattle brand. He was huge, but he was dwarfed by the giant that accompanied Mike. He looked at Mike briefly and then at his data pad. His blonde mustache furled as he walked out of the cockpit and asked, "Why is there a human on my ship."
Mike's behemoth minder spoke. "Transport to Kael Prime, as ordered by Colonel Ocidea."
The captain's mustache twitched in irritation. "I was told that I was moving classified cargo, not a human."
The behemoth stepped to the captain and crossed his arms. "The human is the classified cargo."
The captain and Mike's goliath escort stared at each other for almost a minute, sizing each other up. Mike sobered up a little at the sight.
Are they about to duel? The big guy might lose; the captain's tusks have way more reach. Hmmmm… Would that be good or bad for me?
Mike had seen a video of a Kael duel before; it wasn't pretty. The males had evolved to fight each other for mates and hunting grounds. Dueling was so ingrained into their culture that the female-to-male ratio was 4 to 1 in adulthood while 1 to 1 at birth.
Before Mike had figured out who he wanted to win, the captain abruptly turned, evidently dissuaded by the gargantuan size of his potential foe, and started walking back to the cockpit, angrily muttering and waving his hands, "Fucking spooks and their vague classified bullshit. Cargo is shit that goes in the fucking hold, not a fucking passenger." The crew casually went back to their preflight tasks as if nothing happened. The big Kael entered the kitchen and started foraging around the fridge.
Mike asked, "When do we leave?" in Kaelic to no one in particular, slurring the pronunciation a little.
One of the crew answered without looking up from their datapad, "Twelve hours."
Hurry up and wait. Of course.
Mike pulled his datapad out of his bag and started playing chess; much to his amusement, he could play online, but the chat feature was blocked.
Time to lose some elo…
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The scientist swiped the lock with the keycard attached to her lab coat. She opened the cloning pod and stared at the naked human inside. Its brain didn't fully work, of course; it was impossible to fully clone a sentient being's brain, although that was something the scientist was getting closer and closer to as her research progressed. All this one's brain could do was blink and control its internal organs enough to sustain life for a few days. She could have given it more brain functionality, but she thought it would have been cruel, given what this clone was for.
The scarred commando, who was leaning in the corner, picked up the bag next to her feet and walked to the pod. She looked at the scientist as she pulled the shirt Mike had been wearing earlier out of the bag and said, "Help me dress it; we only have 25 minutes until one of the roommates gets back."
A little while later, their task was nearly complete.
The scientist asked, "Which side do I put the watch on?"
The commando thought for a moment, "Left wrist. The phone goes in the right pocket and the wallet in the left pocket."
The scientist said, "I'll take its arms. You get its legs."
Together, they transferred the clone from the pod to a hovering stretcher and walked it to the car waiting for them just outside the door.
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Mike had been on the ship for an hour now. Despite his drunkenness, he had managed to gain 20 elo over the past hour. He was now at 2319.
The ship was mostly empty; the bulk of the crew was busy loading the hold. The behemoth sat down next to Mike. It was focusing on the wall for some reason. Without turning away from the wall, the behemoth asked, "Do you have a Netflix account?"
He was flabbergasted. The fuck?
"Yeah. Why?"
He turned its head and peered down on Mike. "What's the login."
Kael watch human TV?
"What's your name?"
"No."
"I won't give you the login unless you tell me your name."
The big Kael tried to stare him down, but Mike held his gaze. He chuffed, "Fine, human, my name is Dreki."
Mike smiled as he grabbed the giant's hand and started shaking it, "Hi Dreki, I'm Mike." He let go of Dreki's hand and said, "See, that wasn't so hard." He gave Dreki the login to his family's shared Netflix account.
A holo projection popped up on the wall in front of the couch, and hidden speakers turned on as Dreki started a show.
Mike was flabbergasted again.
The big Kael was watching a Hallmark movie…
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The scientist and commando got an AR message from the surveillance team saying, "Cameras are looped, and the coast is clear."
The commando immediately opened her car door and dragged the clone-laden stretcher out, sprinting to the inside of the nearly empty apartment building. The scientist was right behind her with the equipment bag slung over her shoulder. She followed the commando to the correct door.
The commando whispered, "Key?"
The scientist stuck her gloved hand into the bag and tossed a copy of the key in the clone's pocket to the commando, who promptly opened the door.
As they entered the apartment, the scientist quietly asked, "Where do we do it?"
The commando paused for a second and tightened her gloves; this was up to her to decide. After thinking for a moment, the commando answered, "Sitting on the bed."
Together, they hauled the clone off the stretcher and flopped him down on the bed. The scientist reached into the bag again and pulled out two clear plastic ponchos, handing one to the commando. As the commando pulled her poncho on, she told the scientist, "Put it on backward; that way, you won't get any blood on your face. Oh, and tuck your sleeves inside of the gloves."
After getting her equipment situated, the scientist pulled the gun out of the bag and set it on the clone's lap. The commando took the gun and checked to make sure it was loaded. She grabbed the clone's right hand and began wrapping its fingers around the polymer handle of the human .45ACP pistol, finally placing its index finger over the trigger.
She stuck her free hand behind the clone's shoulder as she said, "Help me pull him up."
The scientist looped her hand through his other arm, and the commando counted them off, "1..2..3.."
They strained as they pulled the clone to an upright position. The commando said, "Hold him." The clone was now sitting on the edge of the bed. The commando let go of his back and used her free hand to open his mouth.
She stuck the pistol in between the clone's teeth and flipped it off safe. The muzzle was scraping the roof of his mouth.
The commando sent a message in AR to the surveillance team.
"We're ready. Tell us when."
They waited for a few seconds.
They received a message in AR.
"Now."
The commando slowly pushed the clone's index finger down on the trigger.
"BANG!"