Chapter Five:
Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location.
April 3, 7215
Brandon returned to his senses some time later. He was now laying on a white cot like bed in a white room two and a half meters square. The only other thing in the room besides him was the same white cabinet as was next to his chair in the auditorium.
“Oh for fucks sake I have a massive headache!”
Sitting up he groaned as stiff muscles protested from lack of use. Standing up he began to stretch and limber up while examining the room closer.
Outwardly he looked calm and collected. Inside though a massive inner dialogue was playing out.
‘Where the hell am I?’
‘What did they do to me? Was that room a massive brain washing center?’
‘Fuck I need to piss!’
Spinning in a circle, Brandon searched for creases, or an opening that might denote a door, or vents, or anything really. His eyes were unable to see anything though regardless how hard he tried. On his second rotation, the cot he had slept on began to rapidly melt away. The cot dissolved into a white liquid that melted into the floor; before bubbling up into a new shape.
“Oh mother of god! My bed just turned into a toilet!”
If he had to relieve himself any less he may have hesitated, but considering he was debating moving to a corner and letting lose, a mere second before; he just dropped trowe and let fly.
Groaning in satisfied relief, he tucked everything back inside his uniform; only to have the uncomfortable feeling of the uniform moving against his skin.
The toilet and his wastes merged back into the white floor; seconds before flowing back up into a new shape. While it did this his uniform flowed from around him into the small control stick he had been given earlier. Brandon barely grabbed it before it fell to the ground as his pocket disappeared around it.
“What the hell!”
Now fully nude Brandon stood in front of what was clearly a shower with water already running inside the enclosure.
Beside him, the cabinet opened up to show a small drawer with two identical control sticks and an empty slot for the one Brandon was holding.
“Huh, okay?”
Placing the stick in the empty slot he saw a dim light envelop the device.
“Guess it is charging or getting cleaned… Or something”
Trying not to freak out about the weird situation he was in Brandon stepped into the shower. In small niches under the shower head there was soap, razor, shaving cream and shampoo.
“Oh I hope this water is not my recycled piss…”
With a sigh he cleaned up. As soon as he rinsed the last of the soap from his body the shower stopped, and a quick warm wind spiraled around him locking him into a mini tornado that lasted for 15 seconds or so.
Now dry and clean the shower began to liquefy running into the floor around him. Brandon stood there now clean and dry in the mostly empty white room. Stepping toward the cabinet he drew out one of the uniform sticks and tapped a button on it. The stick lit up as his uniform flowed out of it and onto his body. Now fully dressed Brandon looked around. The shower had vanished entirely being replaced by the familiar lime green egg chair and a stand similar to a mini table with a plate of steaming eggs and bacon on it. A cup of coffee sat next to one of what looked like orange juice and another of milk.
Out of everything that had happened over the last half an hour this one gave him the most pause. It was one thing to shower or shit and not know where everything was going. It was another to have food appear out of nothing and then eat it…
“you guys wouldn’t just poison your military, right? You need us to fight the other Houses. So this has to be real food. It can’t be some Nanotech shit…”
Still not having convinced himself Brandon sat and began to eat. Years of military life had taught him when he had a chance to shut up and eat what he could. Surprisingly the food was not bad, he even found a biscuit and strawberry jelly that he had missed seeing.
Sitting back in his chair with a content sigh he watched the now empty dishes disappear into the first opening in the wall he had seen since entering. He tried to see what was on the other side, but the opening was an exact fit so tight only Nano machines could manage it.
Brandon looked around the small room waiting to see what was next.
When the ceiling and walls around him began to melt away, he wasn’t really that surprised, after everything else. He was surprised however to see he was still in the large auditorium along with the thousand or so others. Hundreds of Voices broke out as the walls lowered. Some even tried to enter into other people’s cells. However the moment the last of the walls melted away the room went dark again. High pitched sounds erupted from unseen speakers causing a thrum to echo through the room once more. Lights followed next causing a multicolor strobe like effect, that created a myriad of odd distorted shadows and after images burnt into the eyes of all with-in the chamber. Brandon’s special forces training with counter interrogation and brainwashing techniques kicked in.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The next three days followed the same pattern. He would wake up do his morning duties and then have the room around him melt away to reveal the brainwashing chamber. None of the recruits were allowed to talk to the others or allowed any other kind of interaction. They only knew the other recruits existed because of those few precious couple minutes as the walls melted away, and before the lights once more threw the room into a cacophony of brain melting chaos. During this time Brandon used every trick he knew of to protect himself. The one that seemed to be most effective was to constantly go over in his mind who he was and what was most important to him. The brainwashing kept slipping in tendrils of conditioning to obey the Noble houses. Particularly House Nubran. It was not his place to second guess his Lords or Ladies orders. It was his place to obey and die for the house when the time came. He was to watch for the golden eyes that denoted a Noble and observe the proper honorifics based upon their rank. He was to follow with-out question the orders of a Noble unless that order countered in body or spirit another order from a direct member of his Noble House. House Nubran first, all others second. His lordship Baronet Reginald Nubran above all others.
Then he was to follow all lawful orders from officers in the direct chain of command between his lordship and himself. He was to be a good soldier. Work hard, obey and when the time came lay his life on the line fighting with honor for the house. He existed because Lord Nubran willed it and would remain so only as long.
On the morning of the fifth day of his new life he awoke as usual and prepared himself. Only today his purple skin-tight uniform with silver edging had a decoration on his right shoulder. A patch was now embossed there in stark silver thread. Round shield like in shape; there was seven stars across the top with the first, fourth, and seventh larger than the others. Below the row of stars a hammer reminiscent of a large rectangle block of stone spit by a sturdy looking handle. The hammer floated above a sun like image that emerged three quarters concealed from the lowest point of the badge shooting solar like flares upward.
Brandon somehow knew that this emblem was House Nubran’s badge for the Titan Jock. It did appear to be missing his unit name and number on it, but the design was right. His implanted knowledge let him know the stars represented the 7 original Great houses. The brighter three being the ones House Nubran traced their ancestry from. The hammer above the star was the icon of the Titan Jock.
When the walls descended this time so did all other furnishings except the cabinet. Forced to stand Brandon looked around at the other faces in the chamber. Here and there a cabinet with no one could be seen but for the most part other confused faces met Brandon’s gaze.
The large screen flashed to life with an image of Baronet Nubran in a perfectly tailored Royal Purple suit jacket and undershirt, with silver vest and aquamarine tie. The video began to play. Brandon was sure it was meant to seem like a live feed of the Baronet, but Brandon caught the small imperfections that gave lie to the situation.
“Congratulations recruits! You have started what I hope will be a long and successful career in my Noble armed forces. You will serve to protect House Nubran and its’ allies from all threats foreign and domestic. A job I need each and every one of you brave souls for, because it is a dark day for House Nubran, indeed.”
“With the death of my mother, my siblings Lisa and Connor both dispute my birthright as oldest heir of the family. They have rebelled bringing war to our once peaceful star system. While my mother ruled, Pyillos enjoyed a golden age of peace and prosperity. Only needing to send forces to support our sovereign Great House as was our proper due.”
“Now though, the rebels have moved to take the throne of Pyillos from the rightful heir. Other malcontents who have long simmered hatred and resentment have also moved. They are attempting to claim by force what they could not by more peaceful means. These last two years have seen our peaceful star system drowned in blood and ash. Sadly though, I fear the fighting has just begun.”
“Recruits! Some of you have taken the first steps to be the backbone of my honorable warriors as Infantry, or Armor commandos. Others have stepped up to fly over my skies in powerful Aerospace planes. A few have even been chosen to represent the gods of the battlefield as Titan Jocks! Now, Battalion Attention!”
Brandon and every other soldier in the room immediately stood rigid, arms pressed firmly down side, spine straight and legs together.
“Find your comrades in occupation and form up. Your Battalion Commanding Lord Knight will come to collect you shortly.”
The image of Baronet Reginald Nubran did a smart salute where he crossed both arms across his chest, with fists clenched at opposite shoulders, and bowed his head. then with a quick snap his arms moved down his sides closed fists facing forward.
“For the honor and glory of House Nubran!”
Everybody in the chamber did an exact copy of the salute and shouted, “For House Nubran!”
The image winked out leaving Brandon feeling confused in regard to his immediate reaction to the odd salute. Voices broke out immediately as fully half the occupants began to talk or shout at once.
Banners floated down from above. Their silver on rich royal purple a stark contrast to the white space. Looking around Brandon discovered that there was one banner for each of the six main services of the armed forces. Infantry, Armor Cores, Marine seamen, Aerospace Pilots, Naval spacers, and Titan Jocks. The idea was clear they were to gather under each banner based upon their classification.
Brandon was close to the Titan banner which matched his new patch, so he was the first underneath.
Turning he continued to watch the other recruits. The majority it seemed was moving to the Infantry banner. Probably close to half the room. Another full quarter moved to the Naval banner. Brandon felt a pang of jealousy for these recruits. They would be going to space. While he was stuck planetside. The other four branches split the remaining quarter of the room. Marines got the fewest, which made sense with so much focus on air and space combat the need for a strong water-based service had declined. That is fewest besides the Titans who all told only had five people standing under the banner as the door opened emitting in a short skinny woman.
She was maybe just over five feet in height and her tight purple uniform showed she was willow thin and waspish. Short black hair styled in a no-nonsense manner did nothing to soften a face creased from years of frowning. Eyes black as night glimmered with untold disapproval. The only thing that brightened her look at all was the specks of gold in the whites of her eyes and six golden diamonds on her lapels denoting her rank of Lord Knight.
In a voice course and rough she screamed, “Battalion! Attention!” As the room snapped to, she continued her dressing down. “Okay your sorry excuse for shit-stains. Our Noble Lord Baronet Nubran has deemed it fit to activate the growth vats and birth you sorry Vatborn tumors! Now that your wasting oxygen on my planet, it is my duty to get you trained and ready to go die protecting those better than yourselves! I do not like you! I do not want to train your sorry asses! But, I was given an order to do so and by all the hair on Baronet Nubran’s most glorious ass, I’ll be damned if I fail at it! Do you understand, shit-stains?”
“The room vibrated with the shouted response, “Yes Ma’am!”