Episode 33: Edward's Story
DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THESE STORIES ARE COPYRIGHTS OF CARTOON NETWORK. I HAVE NO AFFILIATION TO SYM-BIONIC TITAN OR ITS CREATOR, GENNDY TARTAKOVSKY. I AM SIMPLY TRYING TO EXPAND ON HIS EXCELLENT WORK, NOW THAT THE SHOW, WHICH HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL, HAS BEEN CANCELLED.
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Lance also talked to his father every night at 2 AM now, just like old times. It turned out that Edward was also incapable of sleep at this time. They talked about whatever they could think of: Lance's life, with Edward offering advice whenever necessary, Edward's life on G3, his work on the Rift Gate, and the sudden hiatus in Mutradi. Perhaps the King was fighting back, they presumed. Despite the trauma that had been occurring in his social life, things had a bright side to them. Tonight was no different.
"Hello, son. How is your life?" Edward asked politely as the call began.
"About the same as it's been for a while. Why would you ask that question when you know the answer?"
"Well, Lance, to tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure. I believe it is a psychological necessity for a parent to want to ask their child questions, even if they already know the answer."
"And don't you and G3 still spy on us, am I right? So why would you ask that question if you know my whereabouts?"
Edward laughed. "Not all the time, Lance. It's mostly when you're fighting. I don't try to interfere with your social habits, though Solomon insists on it occasionally."
"Dad, why can't you come down here?"
"Just after you beat those bounty hunters awhile back, my team went to retrieve it, like we have been doing with a number of the less mangled corpses. Solomon found a tracking device on the leader. It detected everything within a 20 mile radius. It was programmed to pick up my exact bio-signature. It also contained a camera lens which sent live footage back to Modula of everything it picked up, including Titan and the city. Those trackers may be able to detect me, even if I'm in the ship, which Modula won't be able to find unless the Mutradi' tracking device's camera physically sees it. If I get too close to any of the Mutradi, their tracking devices will go off, and they will be forced to try and find me, whether you're there to fight it or not. Therefore, Modula will surely find me if I leave the G3 airship, or even if they get too close. I'm the only one who can build another Rift Gate for us to return home. I know it must have been frustrating for you to see me, and then be forced to depart so quickly. But I just want to know that you can always talk to me. And G3 will always be here to help you, too. Be patient, son. You will see me again. I guarantee it."
"Do you think Modula himself will ever come over here?"
"No, son. I know Modula personally. Or, knew him, rather. He would never come here. His forces would be helpless without him. Speaking of Modula, Lance, I think it is time you know how I came here. I promised to tell you, and I must keep that promise. I will tell you how he sent me here."
"Is this a long story, dad?" Lance asked, yawning. He felt like a child getting a bedtime story, only this one would be harrowing and based on actual events.
"Yes. I will tell you everything..."
. . . .
It was a beautiful day in Selemis, the capitol district of Galaluna where the palace was. Everyone was outside, about to see Edward's fantastic new invention, the Rift Gate. Edward had spent years on this project. Nobles from across the planet had come to see it in action, invited by King Lucius himself. Ilana was inside the palace with her mother. Lance was here, too, as a 6 year old.
"The device projects two wormholes, an entry hole and exit hole," Edward explained, typing what seemed like random buttons on the keyboard hooked up to the main mechanism, "And both wormholes can be projected at different galactic coordinates. Observe." Edward threw an apple into the air above the machine. Pressing a switch, the machine fired a laser at the apple, and it was gone. At the end of the laser, a wormhole lay in the sky. The crowd briefly saw small a speck (presumably the apple) reappear, then vanish into the hole. Then, seconds later, another wormhole appeared in the sky high above the crowd at a different location. The apple plummeted back to Earth. Lance knew that was his cue. He had been standing at Edward's side, but now he ran off the stage that the machine was on and dashed to over to spot where his dad said the apple would land. He leaped up and caught as it was coming down. Lance took a bite of the apple, then walked back to bring back to his dad. The crowd either laughed when they saw that Lance had eaten part of it, or just awed at him when he gave the apple back to his father, who in turn put him on his shoulders. "Any object can be placed in the wormhole regardless its density or mass."
"What about living things?" A scientist in the crowd asked. "I see you are clueless as to what would happen to living things in this machine."
"I haven't tested animals yet, but tell me, sir, where do apples grow?" Edward asked.
"From apple trees," the scientist replied.
"And is the apple tree not a living thing?"
"It is," the scientist replied, realizing where Edward was going with this.
"If the apple tree is a living thing, then can't its fruit, which is a part of it, be considered a 'living thing', at least for this experiment? And besides, the apple experienced no abnormal effects from being in the wormhole. You saw that yourself. Well, no harmful effects save for it being bitten into by son." The crowd laughed, and Lance blushed. "If you would like to see if it works on fully-grown organisms, rather than merely fruit from a tree, you're welcome to try it out. However, I don't think my son will be able to catch you, as strong as he is. Show'em your guns, Lance!" Lance obediently flexed a muscle. The crowd laughed. This was all a game to him. He wasn't entirely aware that the real attention was on his father's invention.
But a young girl, about Lance's age, was observing the commotion from her room in the castle. She was not allowed outside, because her parents were worried she might interfere with Edward's presentation. Normally, she didn't mind being cooped up in the palace, as her bodyguard and companion, Hobbs, was usually there. But he was sick today, so the little girl had decided to watch the goings-on from the window. She was about to turn away until she saw the little boy who was with her daddy's friend catch the apple and take a bite out of it. She giggled when she saw him flex his arms. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't take her eyes off of him.
And from another window in the palace, a general with a stern face and ape-like beard was watching with jealousy. Edward was becoming greater than him. Didn't Lucius see that he was deliberately weakening his image by appearing in public with Edward? Yes, they had been friends, but that was long ago. The general reached into his coat-pocket and pulled out a piece of a gold, circular token. It had been cut into thirds. The third of the token he had displayed the outline of a man, with his fist raised. It represented the body. Lucius had another third, the heart, and Edward had the mind, the last third of the token. The token represented an ancient legend: Three individuals, who, in ancient times, had united the kingdom of Galaluna, using their power, compassion, and wisdom, respectively. The one with the power was Tarax. The other two weren't important. The general looked at his third of the token, seething with disgust. Why were emotion and wisdom valued in this new society, while strength and power were not? Modula sneered. His former friends had created this new world order, an order in which leaders were loved, rather than feared. What happened to the days of old, when Galaluna was not a united kingdom, when it had to conquer the others for control of the planet? When those who were intimidating and cunning could be in charge? These two weren't like that at all. They had once been Modula's friends, but they didn't deserve what they had. A plan hatched into Modula's mind. One that would require the use of Edward's new technology...
"Someday," the general said, "This planet will change for the better."
. . . .
"Do you remember that day, Lance?" Edward asked.
"No, not really. I was too little. I wish I could have," Lance replied.
"You don't know how much you meant to me then. And you mean even more to me now," Edward went on.
"Thanks, dad, but can you get on with the story?" Lance asked.
5 years later
Edward was observing the planets using a high-power space telescope he had built himself. He spent most of his time observing the nearby one, which was one of the moons of Galaluna. Edward had been able to deduce that it could hold life. The other planet he observed was one very far away. It was beautiful, about the size of Galaluna, but with a blue sky and more water than land. Edward knew it was also capable of housing life, but there wasn't much else about it that he could discover. It was too far away to observe the surface.
"I swear, Modula, that planet can house life. It has potential, and hope to explore it one day?"
"Why don't you give it a name, then?" Modula asked.
"I can't do that. You see, if it does have any intelligent life, as I suspect, it is likely they have already given it a name. I can't just make up one for them!"
Modula had volunteered to be Edward's assistant in his research. Of course, it was all a ploy he had created when Edward made the announcement that he had discovered another planet that housed life. When Modula heard some of Edward's descriptions of the inhabitants, he knew that the place could be just what he needed. What did Modula need exactly? An army, of course. But because there was almost no one in Galaluna willing to commit treason, he had to wait until Galaluna was capable of space travel. And because of Edward's brilliance, he knew that would be during his lifetime. From there, his plan was to persuade the inhabitants of some other world to help him in his cause. Modula was confident he could win the hearts of the inhabitants. Through fear, though, not love.
"Well, Edward, why don't you observe the other planet?" Modula asked in the nicest way that a cunning a general can.
Edward went over to the control panel of the telescope and refocused the lens so he could see it. "Well, I...just don't like the looks of it. It looks so...barren, and apocalyptic, even though it can house life. There are high amounts of Radon and Krypton in the atmosphere, you see. Because those creatures have been living there all their lives, either they would die out so quickly they could not reproduce...or..."
"Or what?" Modula asked.
"Mutate and thrive," he replied. "It seems that numerous species have achieved this. Mostly giant creatures. Of course, I can't observe them directly. But sometimes, I see giant figures wandering the hills of that planet. Modula, why does this interest you?"
"Well, I was thinking of an appropriate name for it earlier today. If you believe most species there are mutated versions of what they could be, had they been born here, then perhaps we could call the planet...Mutrad. And because the inhabitants are mutants, they probably haven't thought of name before we have," Modula said jokingly.
Edward chuckled. "You may be right." Then his face went serious. "Despite the dangers in that planet, its close proximity makes me wish to observe it one day. I have been working on a spaceship that can take the two of us there, as well as ten other people, and return us safely home. But right now, I need to see the King. I have important business to discuss with him. It does not involve you, General. Good night. Have a safe journey home."
"I will," Modula replied. As he walked down the hallways back to the entrance of the palace, he heard voice from the King's chamber. Modula stopped to listen.
"Are these...armored robots almost complete?"
"Yes, your Highness. You see, the data and weapons programming hardware inside the machines, as well as their physical structures, are housed inside a small watch. A miracle of science, if I do say so myself. They will be ready in a month. I call the purple robot 'Manus', and the yellow one 'Corus'. Here are the blueprints for the Manus. They should be easy to mass produce."
"What about the Corus?" Asked Lucius.
"I only have one copy. I intend to give that one to your daughter on her twelfth birthday as a gift."
"You're giving her a weapon?"
"It's mostly suited for defense, but yes, it is a weapon. I want her to be capable of protecting herself."
"No! I can't have my sweet daughter become a ruthless killer!"
"You don't understand, your Majesty. I'm giving this to her for a reason. You see, my King, I have reason to believe there will be...unrest in a few years."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I have been observing Mutrad-that's the new name of the moon I was telling you about-and I fear that they are fairly savage creatures. But one of their species has recently been testing spacecraft. The telescope is powerful enough for me to see them without them seeing me. In a few years, they may be capable of traveling to this planet. I am talking about an invasion. We must prepare ourselves for a potential interplanetary war, an invasion."
"Invasion?" Lucius mused. "I have never doubted your knowledge, Edward, but it still worries me. I just don't want my little Ilana to be forced into combat. Don't you feel the same way about Lance?"
"Well, no, actually. Lance is a very capable boy. I believe that if he trained in the academy, it would build his character. When he is old enough, I will send him. I feel he has the potential to be a great soldier. In fact, I believe that he and Ilana should..."
Modula sighed quietly, tuning out their conversation. They were whining about their children again. Modula hated children. They were simply ignorant civilians, always getting in the way of potential military matters. Lucius and Edward were just exhibits A and B of what happened after having children. Those fools. Why hadn't they stayed single, like he had? Their bachelor years, back in their twenties, yes, those were good times. But now, they simply focused on family matters. At first, Modula had thought that it was their wives that softened them, but now he knew that it could only have been the children.
And why hadn't Edward told him about his fears, he thought? Were they afraid of his judgment? If he was let in on all this, he would have suggested simply using the recently made spacecraft to head over to Mutrad and wipe out the inhabitants. Galaluna's military was excellent. It would be even better if with Edward's new robots. And when the conquest was over and Mutrad was a Galalunan colony, Modula could very easily start an uprising and have the Mutradi invade Galaluna, just as Edward feared.
Modula had decided five years ago that he would plan on changing this planet, ridding it of weak, soft rulers. It pained Modula a little to do this, but he would do whatever it took to remake Galaluna into an empire. An empire which would bring others in the galaxy to their knees. Whichever planets had life on them would quake in fear at the mighty Galalunan race! Modula walked back to his home, a plan hatching yet again in his mind as to how to get rid of Edward so that he could use his technology in peace. He had to be dealt with first. But how could he set it up to look like an accident?
Edward and the King were still talking. "And, your Majesty, I also prepared something for us in the event of a coup."
"A coup!? What evidence do you have of that!?" The King asked.
"None yet. But it is always good to be prepared. I don't know why, but I fear something has disturbed Modula."
"Nonsense! He is a good man. We've both known him for years, after all."
"The Modula of our youth is gone, your Highness."
"I can't believe that, Edward, no matter how much you try to persuade me to. But tell me, what is this 'something' you mentioned earlier?"
"Yes, right. Well, remember what I said about Ilana's unique armor? I am not copying it because I have plans for it to make a new weapon."
"What kind of weapon? o you mean a modification to Corus?" The King asked.
"No. I am talking about the possibility of fusing the two robots I have created. But I need one last ingredient." Edward showed Lucius the blueprints for a bizarre, floating, blue, gel-like, bio-engineered machine. "I won't go into details as to its capabilities, but it will be sentient, unlike the others, which are merely suits of armor that require a pilot."
"Is that your secret weapon?" Lucius asked.
"No. Remember what I said earlier? I plan to have all three be able to fuse together to create a giant, sym-bionic machine! A titan, if you will. A Sym-Bionic Titan!" He cried.
"Tell me more," the King asked.
"It will be the one to defend this planet in times of trouble, fighting off any threat. It will be controlled by the robot, your daughter, and any troops adept with the Manus armor."
"Who exactly would that be?" The King asked.
"I don't know until I introduce the weapon to the academy," Edward replied. "But, I assure you, your Majesty, whoever I select to be the 'body' of Titan will be up for the job."
"The body?" Lucius asked. "If he will be the body, then-"
"Yes. Ilana will be the heart, and the robot will be the mind."
"Just like the old proverb-" the King began.
"Body, heart, and mind," Edward replied, holding his third of the token, displaying the profile of a human head. The Lucius took out his third, which had a heart with several lines like veins traced on it.
"All three will be needed to form Titan," Edward replied.
. . . .
"So, you already had plans to make Titan, even back then?" Lance asked Edward.
"Yes. How much do you remember about that old proverb? Did you know that there's a legend behind it?"
"No, actually," Lance replied.
"No matter, then. I shall have to tell you another time, though. I must continue with the story."
Several months later...
Edward was working on the Rift Gate when Modula opened the door of his room. The room was large, dark green in color, and had massive amounts of computers and machines. At the end of the room lay a raised platform. Underneath this was the beam which housed the beam of the Rift Gate, used to create wormholes. At this point in time, had already introduced the Manus robots to the military academy. Several troops, Hobbs included, had learned fast its abilities. Ilana was also training with her Corus armor. But she never saw Lance. He had accompanied Edward to the palace occasionally, but had only seen as far as the throne room.
"Edward, there's something wrong with the telescope. I think it's something only you can fix, I'm afraid."
"Very well, then." Edward replied. He went into the other room to check on the telescope. Modula used this time to act. He still had no fellow conspirators at this point. He could execute this plan alone. He went over to the computer that controlled the Rift Gate. He sent the entrance hole to appear in the room, and the exit hole would appear right above the planet that Edward seemed so found of. If he liked it so much, he might as well live there. A small part of Modula was filled with regret. Edward had once been a friend. But those days were long gone. Out of sympathy, Modula had decided to send him here. There would be no way that the life-forms of that silly planet could help him return, let alone contact him to warn the citizens back on Galaluna of his intentions. A nasty, inhuman grin emerged on Modula's face. Was it really this easy to dispose of someone you hate?
Edward, meanwhile, found nothing wrong with the telescope, but instead a sinister note taped onto the lens. It read:
It is time for this society to evolve from a shallow, weak, child-protecting monarchy into a mighty, feared empire. It pains me to dispose of you, so I chose in advance to spare your life. Goodbye, Edward.
Edward dashed back into the room with the Rift Gate's mechanism. "Modula! What's going on?!" he asked, panic-stricken. Modula punched him in the stomach, grabbed his hand, and, in one of his signature moves, bent it back unnaturally, causing Edward great pain. He then grabbed Edward and flung him onto the platform just above the spot where the wormhole projecting device was. Modula then turned on the Rift Gate, ignoring Edward's moans of pain as the blast of the Rift Gate shot him upward to the ceiling of the room. Just as it seemed that Edward would hit the ceiling, the entry wormhole appeared. The exit wormhole released Edward onto a field of grass moments later. Edward, in a daze, found himself lying above a blue sky. Edward knew, without a doubt, exactly where he was...Earth. A planet of beauty, just as he had assumed. But Edward was in too much pain to really care about his recent accidental discovery. He found that he could barely move into a sitting position, because his limbs ached and throbbed. He discovered with dismay where his injuries lay: A broken left fibula, a fractured right kneecap, a broken nose, scars on his neck, and worst of all, a limp, unnaturally bent hand. Edward struggled to stand, but found himself collapsing on the ground. Edward decided to rest and wait to see if he could recover from his injuries. As he lay on the grass in this meadow, he saw a butterfly land on a bright, pink flower. How lucky and how ironic it was for Modula to condemn to this lovely planet, and have him inexplicably wind up in such a nice place like this meadow! But then Edward thought: No. Modula would not send him here without a reason. Perhaps he wanted to send him here just so that he would get killed quickly. But there was nothing here that was the least bit threatening...
Suddenly, Edward heard a deafening explosion just a few hundred feet behind him. Edward, still in pain, strained his head up to the sky to see a giant object hurtling towards him. Edward had a good guess what was going on. This was some sort of target practice range for whatever military vehicles that this planet possessed. Edward, crying out in pain crawled towards the edge of the meadow as blasts of tank fire landed around him. After what seemed like hours, he made it to what he perceived were the boundaries of the field. He saw a barbed wire fence stretching across the vast borders of the target range. Edward crawled right next to the fence and plopped on the ground, incapable of going any further. His bent, bleeding hand had left a trail, just begging for someone to follow it. And one man would.
. . . .
"Wait, Dad, I thought you came here by choice. I have a vague memory of scientists watching and talking as you entered the Rift Gate."
"Do you remember clearly being there, Lance?"
"Well...no."
"Then that explanation became the truth you lived by. Modula must have lied to the others that worked with me, telling them that I left of my own accord. The false memory you have could be simply what the King told you happened."
. . . .
Corporal Solomon had been serving his country with pride for 5 years now. And throughout his entire time here, he hadn't once met a fellow soldier with his insight. His commanding officer, Steel, had once told him to stop disagreeing with everybody, and that he was just being a devil's advocate. He wasn't trying to be some kind of opposing force. But apparently, he was. He just couldn't see things like everyone else could. Maybe it was because of what had happened to his family before he had joined: One day as he was driving off to work, while his wife, Gladys, was taking their children to school, an 18-wheeler had accidentally crashed into his wife's compact family car, sending it slamming against the guardrails of the interstate they were driving on. The truck's brakes weren't working properly, and the driver tried to accelerate away from the car. But the side of the vehicle dragged against his wife's car, eventually applying enough force to send the tiny thing bursting through the guardrails and rolling over into the lane going in the opposite direction. One car in the other lane couldn't brake in time, and his car crashed into the upside-down wreck that had landed there, sending it crashing into the side of the road. No one involved in the wreck save the truck driver survived, and he was charged with involuntary manslaughter. That life-shattering incident had opened his eyes. Solomon had gained a new understanding of the frailty of life. But this was a fact of life that he wanted to remove from his mind. He knew that to move on, he would have to gain some indifference to life's tragic moments. So he enlisted in the U.S. Army, hoping to lose his sympathy for human life, and lose his attachments. Naturally, it hadn't quite worked due to Solomon's own misconceptions about the military.
He grimly recalled the time he and his division were assigned a simulated training exercise. It involved searching an entire "village" (An area meant to look like a village set up by the staff) to check for terrorist activity. Steel had explained that there was someone there who would be attempting to do such things (not really, because it was simply a simulated exercise) and that upon finding him, they were to secure and interrogate him, using any means necessary. The accused was supposed to confess if they tried a certain tactic. Or, alternatively, they could investigate the area where he had been for the evidence. But, according to Steel, it was hidden well. The mission was relatively easy, but it put a mental strain on Solomon. He and his division had no choice but to raid the "houses" of each individual "family" to see if they had anything. Though most of fellow soldiers accomplished the task of threatening to take the "families" hostage and "seizing" their possessions, Solomon had only one though going through his mind: Is this what they would do in a real mission? Barging into innocent people's homes, just so they could find one guilty person? What if this had been real? The poor people he and his troops would be forced to hold at gunpoint would be traumatized, not to mention the physical damage he and the others would most likely have to inflict on them for answers. They might even have to subject people to torture. Solomon shuddered at the thought. Was it all necessary? Wasn't there some way to negotiate peacefully for answers? Solomon knew that the answer was no. No one among the enemy's territory could be trusted fully.
When they finally found the "terrorist", the soldiers all agreed that interrogation and torture were the only ways to getting the necessary information out of him. Solomon was the only one that tried to go back and collect evidence. When he got there, he found that several people who were "collaborating with the suspect" there. They wasted no time in capturing him and taking him back to Steel. Solomon had to wait with him until the others finished the mission. When it was all finally over, Solomon gathered the troops to tell them their results. "Well, you guys did pretty good, but one of your buddies, Solomon, screwed up and failed the mission for the lot of ya! You would've succeeded, if it hadn't been for him!" Everyone glared angrily at Solomon, who hung his head in shame. If only he could shed the sympathetic side of him away...
All this had happened weeks ago, but Solomon could remember it as clear as day. Now he was lamenting about his personality, which he was sure was unfit for the military, his brother, Steve Steves, sidled up to him. Steve had chosen to serve, just like Solomon had, after Solomon's family had been killed in a fatal car accident, hoping to try and provide moral support. "Hey, what's up?" Steve asked his brother.
"Go away," Solomon said.
"Hey, look, I just wanna know if you're okay. And you're not, so I have to come and check on you. Steel got your tongue?"
"Yes. Do you know what he said this morning? We're going into combat soon. And I can't take this anymore. It hasn't been working. I'm still...the same. I can't get rid of my sympathy, or my questioning of war tactics. I can't go out there and shoot a gun unless they almost tried to kill me first."
"Now you tell me. I told you joining the military would make things worse, but when have you ever listened to me? Well, you're in luck, buddy, cause' there'll be plenty of people tryin' to kill you where we're going." Steve said with sarcastic enthusiasm.
"Afghanistan?" Solomon asked.
"Fraid so. Look, Solomon, it's been years since...you know, and the only real solution to all this is to just move on. I'm sorry, but we both it's the truth."
"You're right. But...I just wanted to get rid of grief by detaching myself from others. That's why I joined the military. Partially to gain indifference to everyone, and partially to be prepared for worse events in my life. And to serve my country. I feel that I must do so."
"What do you mean by 'worse events,' bro?" Steve asked. Solomon hated it when Steve called him "bro".
"Well, I just want to be able to move on with indifference if something ever happened to...you."
Steve put a hand on Solomon's shoulder, though he knew that he hated it when anyone touched him, save his wife. Now whenever Steve put his hand on Solomon's shoulder, it was sort of implying that Solomon's wife would agree with whatever Steve would say next, if she had been there. "Look, I can see why you would want to become indifferent, but that's just not what to do when disaster hits. We can all be affected by tragedy. There's nothing you should do to try and 'prepare' yourself, and besides, your personality just can't be changed like that. I've tried telling this to you so many times, but you never listened. You don't have to change anything about yourself, no matter how many loved ones die. Instead of trying to harden your heart to people and the tragedies in their lives, you should reach out to them and try to help them. Joining the military was the dumbest move you ever made. Who knows how it will change you? I joined because I knew I would have to be here to help you. I can't let my bro get all sad, now can I?" Steve grinned.
Solomon smiled. "No, Steve, you can't," he said. "Thank you. You've...really helped me see what I need to do."
"And what's that?" Steve asked.
"To stay the way I am," he replied. The two brothers hugged, and went their separate ways.
But Steve didn't know that Solomon was lying. He couldn't stay the way he was just by trying to move on. There was more too it. The only way to regain his old self was to get the hell out of here. Solomon stared at the barbed wire fence fondly, wishing it marked the border of the military training facility, instead of the target practice range. As he stared out at the sea of flowers, he saw a figure in the distance. A bleeding, dying figure. The first thing that came to Solomon's mind was what Steve had said to him minutes ago: "Instead trying to harden your heart to people and the tragedies in their lives, you should reach out to them and try to help them."
Solomon rushed out on the field after grabbing a med kit. Hearing Edward's groans, Solomon quickly healed him with your basic supply of bandages, medicines, and etc. Solomon had been trained for things like this. He couldn't just rely on some medic in combat all the time. He picked up Edward and took him to the fence at the edge of the field. Solomon climbed over with Edward in tow. Solomon took him to his barracks. For some reason he would never understand, Solomon felt obliged to help this strange man.
He never regretted it.
When Edward came to, he found a white-haired man looking over him. He was lying on a cot in some sort of small facility.
"Where...am I?" Edward asked. The probability of the man knowing Anglish (The Galalunan term for the English language as we know it) was fairly high. Seeing as this man was obviously a human like himself, Edward theorized that the inhabitants of Earth had probably developed languages quite similar to the ones on Galaluna. He had to bank on that hope.
"Rudish Army base, United States," Solomon replied. "What is your name?"
Edward was relieved. His theory had been proven, and the name "United States" sounded reassuring. This was because it reminded him of the United Kingdom of Galaluna, Galaluna's official name. Was this planet united under one country, like his own? Or were they too diverse for such an idea to exist on this planet?
"My name is Edward," he replied simply.
"Why were you out there?" Solomon asked.
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe anything I said," he replied. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead? I should know as much as I can about my rescuer. You're the first person that has shown kindness to me."
Solomon didn't know why, but he felt relaxed in front of this man. Especially considering that most of his bones were broken, there was nothing he could do to escape.
"Very well, then, but it's a little sad," Solomon said. He then told Edward about his family, what had happened to them, and why he was in the military. Edward listened intently.
"And what about you? Your story can't be any more bizarre tragic than mine," Solomon said.
Edward chuckled. "You're quite a pessimist, aren't you? Very well, then. I will only tell you what I think you can handle. I am a scientist from another planet. An alien, if you will. I was sent here when an evil man-one that was once my friend-sent me here in a wormhole device I invented known as the Rift Gate. I will let that sink in."
Solomon said nothing, merely listening.
"I have no idea what is going on back on my home world, which is called Galaluna. I believe it is quite far away from here. The reason I ended up here was because this is where the evil man chose to send me. I think it was because he knew I was interested in this planet, and the fact that we had once been friends. So much, in fact, that he decided to exile me here, of all places. A sadistic move on his part. Anyway, now that I am here, with no way to return home, I suppose I will make the best of my new life here. When I recover, I want to see the rest of this facility."
"How can I trust you?" Solomon asked. "How do I know you're not a spy?"
"I can prove it," Edward answered.
. . . .
"How did you prove it, Dad?" Lance asked.
"Oh, that's much too complicated to go into right now, son. I just explained the laws of quantum physics and recited some facts about Galaluna that only a native would know. It's too boring to go into detail. But I did have him convinced. Afterwards, as I was recovering, I asked him for some materials to manufacture a mechanical forearm. It had been paralyzed, but the rest of the arm was still functional."
"Eventually, I gained enough strength to visit the grounds. He introduced me to everyone, except Steel. He was in command of a different unit at that time. I told no one else about my origins. The military personnel, I'm afraid, didn't see my brilliance, so they wanted to get rid of me as soon as I recovered. I tried to tell them that I could help enhance their country's military, but they brushed me aside. Except for Solomon. After realizing that there was nothing I could do to convince them to show me my potential, we hatched a plan to manufacture weapons like the ones back home. But we needed a large workforce to help us.
"When I tried to convince the idea of a new, independent military branch to Solomon's superiors, they denied us. But we did manage to persuade some of Solomon's fellow soldiers. We couldn't convince Steve, however. Those that had sided with Solomon and I worked the nights to produce enough weapons for G3 from inside an abandoned warehouse. Eventually, through the course of several years, we made enough weapons in secret to form an entirely new division of the Army. I also taught Edward Galalunan fighting styles. It was hard for him at first, of course, not because he was weak, but because he had to rely solely on word of mouth. As you know, Lance, I am incapable of fighting, even at perfect health." Lance chuckled.
"But it wasn't easy after that. After getting approval from the federal government-again, Solomon didn't explain who I was to them-we set up our temporary base. But just as we were getting comfortable, a first major enemy showed up."
"Steel?" Lance asked.
"Yep."
. . . .
Steel was talking away into his phone, talking with another general who was asking for advice in Afghanistan.
"Simple, just nuke'em!" He replied. Angry shouting came from the other end.
"Stop bein' a pansy. What can they do about it? This is the United States, we are in charge! Diplomacy?! What do you mean?!" Steel cried. But before he could start his rant about other countries deserved to be wiped out, an attitude which only his closest friends and co-workers knew about, Steve appeared.
"Sir, I've got important matters do discuss with you. I think it needs your immediate attention."
"Don't tell me, corporal. We're withdrawin', aren't we?"
"No, sir. This concerns our own."
"Did we find another terrorist?"
"No, sir. We found a rebellious man who has left us for a delusional scientist he found months ago."
"Elaborate," Steel commanded.
Steve explained everything he knew about Solomon, Edward, and G3.
"I knew those surplus troops weren't on shore leave!" He declared. "Get everybody goin'! Contact the president!"
"Well, general, he already knows about it. He gave them approval. I was hoping you could persuade the president to defund this project."
"Persuasion?! That never works!" Steel cried. "Now, Steve, get your butt over to those G3's and get rid of 'em all! And bring your friends, too!" He ordered almost assuredly.
"I'm afraid I am only able to report the situation, sir."
"Why can't you go, then?" Steel asked as he called up the others troops in his off-duty army.
"Because the ringleader is my brother," said Steve.
Steel sat for a moment, caught off guard. "Well, then...I guess you can stay here. You have my word that I won't harm your brother. But he will be court-martialed," he said as he left the room.
Of course, if Steel had been paying attention, he would have realized that attacking a government approved program was a direct violation of his country's law...
Or maybe he just didn't care.
Edward was pacing up and down in his room, trying to learn to walk again, when Solomon burst in.
"Edward! It's General Steel!"
"Who?" He asked.
"Just mobilize our forces!" he cried.
Edward did as instructed. As his troops, tanks, and combat robots all marched in formation outside their temporary base not too far from area 51, Edward saw tanks and planes in the distance.
"No..." he said aloud. Everyone else was just as surprised as he was. But they didn't have much time to think about it. Soon, troop met troop, plane met plane, and tank met tank. The U.S Army fired their rockets and guns, G3 retaliated with their lasers and plasma grenades. Solomon himself got one of the heaviest guns Edward had designed, firing at what he was well aware were his own men. He felt sick of what he was doing. But something inside told him that Steel was in the wrong, and Edward was in the right. He had to be defended, at all costs, he thought, as he leapt into the cockpit of a tank killing the soldiers inside. His own countrymen...
Solomon threw up on the control panel of the tank, making it useless for combat. He shed tears as red planes and cameo planes alike crashed in burned up in the skies above him. He leapt out of the tank, shooting the pistol he had been carrying at his side. He broke breached the line of forces Steel had formed upon arriving here. Solomon shot at everyone in his way, not noticing the blast one of the tanks had fired on G3's massive base. It landed in the hangar, destroying a good portion of their weapons supply. Solomon paid it no heed as he leapt into another tank, killed those inside, and fired a blast upward at the helicopter Steel was in.
Edward was rapidly assembling machine parts together, calling for his aides to assist him. In minutes, he had formed a make-shift image projector. Edward got on the lab computer and ordered one of the more creative members of the team to design a humanoid robot. A giant one, at that. The artist/scientist obeyed without hesitation.
Steel parachuted out of his helicopter as it crashed. Solomon watched him descend to Earth. As the two fighters met, Solomon held up his arms, but still ready to fire the pistol at his hip.
"You'll pay for this, Solomon!" Steel cried. "You've committed treason! Now you and yer little friends are gonna pay!" He cried, aiming his gun.
"No!" Solomon cried. "Will you listen to me? The man I've been working with is a genius. With his help, our army can grow, and regain the respect it has lost in previous years! The technology might even stand up to an alien invasion!" Solomon exclaimed, hoping that would convince Steel. In truth, he was saying that in case the man who had tried to kill Edward ever had any decisions about visiting here.
"That's ridiculous, Solomon. Are you insane as well as delusional?" Steel asked. Solomon was about to reply when a giant metal machine appeared in the sky.
That of a giant robot. It was blue, with yellow outlining its mechanical organs inside its transparent outer armor. It had a big, heart like insignia on its chest. But most importantly, it was hundreds of feet tall.
"AAAAAAAHHHHH! WHAT IS THAT THING?!" Steel cried. He called to his troops over the radio. "Everybody! We gotta get the heck outta here! We can't face that thing!" He cried. The soldiers didn't need to be told twice.
Solomon smiled as Steel and his forces retreated. As they left, the mysterious robot vanished.
. . . .
"That was Titan, wasn't it?" Lance asked.
"Of course it was! Afterwards, we repaired our base and rebuilt our weapons. But there was nothing we could do to mend the broken souls and lives of anyone on either side. Both sides managed to clear things up with the president. He quietly decided to keep this under wraps. All casualties were listed as killed in sudden carbon monoxide poisoning."
"As you can imagine, I felt like I was the guiltiest one for all of this. But Solomon was just glad it was all over. We decided to construct a massive airship to house everything and everyone. When it was built, the government gave us permission to use any airspace in this country. But we ended up wandering across the skies, searching for any alien life. The goal of G3 had now become to seek out extraterrestrial life, and make them feel comfortable on our planet, instead of treating them with hostility. Of course, we would unleash our forces if they clearly had malicious intentions. I did all this in order to provide a service for the country. And since I thought I would never be able to return, in had become my purpose. But part of me never gave up hope in finding you. It was just , I guess. Hope that you would show up eventually, either by Modula's hand, or of your own accord. I never gave up hope, son."
"Dad, how could have blind hope like that? I don't understand, what prevented you from losing it?" Lance asked.
"I...I don't know. I just knew that I couldn't give up hope. Something-or someone-told me you were still alive. I don't who or what, but I'm grateful for it. And I'm also grateful for you, too, son."
Silence reigned for a few seconds. Lance, having taken all this in, finally spoke up. "I...I...I love you, Dad," Lance said, with the voice of teenager, but with the sincerity of a young child.
"I love you too, son," Edward replied. "Good night."
"Good night," Lance replied as Edward turned off the communications and Lance removed his watch for the night. He glanced at the clock as he dozed off to sleep. Three a.m. He would have to sleep late tomorrow. Good thing it was a Saturday.
