"Commander," said unit B-114 as he walked into the General's office, carrying a sheaf of papers. " We need to talk."
General Wycliff looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk with no small amount of shock, and a little indignation; the general, with his short, jet-black hair greying around the fringes, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to look into your soul, was unaccustomed to mere footsoldiers speaking to him in such a manner.
He was by no means an unreasonable man, but he did expect his subordinates to treat him with a certain amount of respect; and unit B-114, one of the newest recruits to the Wellen Planetary Militia, was talking as though he were of equal, or even greater, rank than the general.
On the other hand, B-114 may have been young but he was by no means unskilled; in fact, he'd graduated the Wellen Military Academy top of his class, and was considered to be the most capable new recruit they Academy had turned out in decades. A sandy-haired lad of only nineteen Standard Terran Years, and with eyes just blue and piercing as the general himself's, Wycliff had taken quite a liking to B-114 and the the boy had never let him down yet; as such, the old war hero decided to at least hear the boy out. But not without heckling him a bit first.
"You know," Wycliff said dryly, "There are these things called appointments; you should really try them some time."
B-114 shook his head, and said in an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry sir, but there was no time; this is quite urgent."
The general leaned forward in his seat; B-114 was obviously quite concerned about something. He was fidgeting restlessly, and eyes were darting nervously around the room as though he were being hounded by Phantoms.
"Go on," Wycliff said.
"Sir," B-114 began, "For a while now I've been concerned about rising Corruption levels in the Valerie system; and the apparent lack of action being taken by our Systemwide Government."
B-114 laid the sheaf of papers he'd been carrying on the general's desk.
"I did some tests," B-114 continued, "And by my calculations we've already reached Code Red levels of Corruption; and the Corruption will reach Code Black levels systemwide in no more than three weeks. You of all people know what happens if we hit Code Black. And yet nothing has been done about it; no evac, no call for the Priests, they haven't even sounded an alert!"
By the end of his speech, B-114 was almost shouting in barely restrained fear; and rightly so, if his data was reliable. Code Red was bad enough, but Code Black… The boy was right about one thing; any system reaching Code Black was a nightmare scenario.
"That's quite troubling news," the general said calmly, "But I just got the official Corruption Level reports for the system today, and we're nowhere near dangerous levels. I'm afraid you must have miscalculated."
B-114 shook his head. "I can't tell you how much I wish you were right, but I didn't make any miscalculations; I ran the tests ten times, and came up with exactly the same result every time."
Wycliff swallowed; as young as B-114 was, and as unlikely it was that he was right and the official reports were wrong, the general was inclined to believe the young soldier. There was no deceit whatsoever in the boy's eyes, and no doubt either.
"Are you saying," Wycliff continued, doing his best to keep his voice even, "That you believe the official reports are incorrect?"
B-114 looked his superior in the eye. "I'm saying I think they're deliberate lies; a coverup."
The general was stunned by the boy's words, but his surprise soon turned to indignation.
"Now, look here…"
'Where did you get those reports?" B-114 interrupted. "Polaris Prime in Gamma, right? Probably from Central Command."
The general paused for a moment; the boy was right, the test results did come from Central Command. The High Council had established official, regulation Corruption tests about five STY's ago; and had, apparently, assembled a team of specialists to conduct them.
"Are you implying…" the general didn't finish that thought.
"The Valerie system isn't the only thing that's corrupt," B-114 said gravely. "Unfortunately, I don't have enough irrefutable evidence to make that claim public without getting silenced. Please General Wycliff, Sir; you have to believe me."
Wycliff stood slowly, and turned around to look at the wall behind his desk. It was covered with medals; from the Great Phantom War. Medals of honour, medals of courage, medals of loyalty, he'd won them all; he'd served under the High Imperial Council for decades and, while he may have questioned their wisdom at some points, he simply couldn't believe that they were deliberately letting Corruption run rampant.
"I'm sorry," he said without turning around, "I really am, but your wild stories about the Council turning a blind eye to Corruption cannot be true; what you have said is akin to treason, and is punishable by life imprisonment at the very least. You do know that, don't you."
B-114 said nothing.
Wycliff sighed, and stared at the wall some more; as if hoping that he could conjure up the right answer from the cold, hard pieces of metal suspended there.
"You are dismissed from active duty, B-114," Wycliff said eventually, with as much surety as he could muster. "You are no longer a soldier of the Wellen Militia, and I am no longer your commanding officer; now get out of my office, before I change my mind."
B-114 sighed. "You know, General, all my life I've respected you; more than any other man in the Empire. But I can't let your misplaced loyalty to the Imperial Council destroy an entire system."
Wycliff turned around in surprise, and saw before him a completely different person; he was physically the same, but there was no fear in his eyes or voice now. He looked at the general with calm determination, and spoke with ironclad resolve; the general couldn't help but see a younger version of himself standing in front of him. And frankly it frightened him, because he knew what B-114 was about to do; exactly what he himself would have done.
"I can't stand up to the Imperial Council directly," B-114 said, "But I can at least save my homeworld!"
Without any further warning, B-114 ran out of the room; and Wycliff knew exactly where he was going. The control room; the heart of the entire base. Without any idea what else he was supposed to do, Wycliff ran after him; even as a man of 65 STY's, Wycliff was in peak physical condition and managed to stay only one corridor behind B-114, but he couldn't catch him in time.
B-114 burst into the command centre, to the astonishment of everyone there; and he shouted the three words every person in the Empire dreaded most.
"CORRUPTION CODE RED! I repeat, CORRUPTION CODE RED!"
The next ten seconds were utterly silent; no one wanted to believe their ears, but no one wanted to risk not believing it. Eventually, years of Corruption Drills kicked in and the Control Center became a hive of activity as alarms were sounded and alerts sent out across the planet.
A warning message was sent to the only two Jump Gates out of the system; they would be closed in one Standard Terran Hour, to avoid trapping any ships in hyperspace. After that, the only people who would be allowed through would be Priests; Corruption Specialists from House Sirius, and the only ones with the technology and training to eliminate Corruption. Their services were extremely expensive, and so were only called in for emergencies; and anything above Code Orange classified as such an emergency.
B-114 didn't wait around to make sure everything went smoothly, he knew it would; these people had been drilled to respond to a Code Red so much that they probably had dreams about doing it. Nightmares, most likely. And besides, B-114 couldn't afford to be questioned; certain… 'things' might come to light that should really stay secrets. So, he ran back down the hallway from whence he came, and ran right into General Wycliff.
"What in the name of the Creator have you done?!" Wycliff exclaimed; although he already knew the answer.
"Saved this system," B-114 said. "And possibly delayed the second Great Phantom War."
"This won't end well," Wycliff insisted. "The Priests will arrive and say the system's clean already, the Code Red will get called off, and you'll be tried for treason!"
"Except you know that won't happen," B-114 said, with no room for argument in his voice. "I can see it in your eyes; you believe me. You can't stop the Priests once they've been summoned, and they'll be here in less than ten STH's; they'll have their work cut out for them lowering the Corruption back to safe levels. But by the time they get here, I'll be long gone. Now you can either accept that, or you can try to stop me; so what's it going to be?"
Wycliff hesitated for a second. "You'll never get out of the system; the Jump gates will be closed in an hour, and you can't get a ship that quickly."
B-114 smiled. "Let me worry about that," he saluted formally. "Take care of yourself, Commander Wycliff."
Wycliff hesitated a second, then made up his mind and saluted back. "You too, Unit B-114."
The boy's smile grew. "My name's Steven; Steven Arc."
In the Wellen Planetary Militia, soldiers were assigned code names based on what regiment they were from, and what their rank was in that regiment; a standard practise handed down by Central Command. B-114 was the one-hundred and fourteenth member of regiment-B; had he been an officer, an extra digit would have been added to his name. Soldiers were never supposed to reveal their true names except on one condition; their exit form the force either by dismissal, death, or resignation.
"It has been an honour and a pleasure serving under you sir," Steven said; I hope our paths will cross again some day.
With that, he ran past Wycliff towards the shuttle bays; leaving the General to look at his retreating form with a strange certainty that he really would see the boy again some day, one way or another. Then, the realization hit him that B-114… no, that Steven Arc had just saved an entire system from the Corruption.
Wycliff saluted again. "Be safe, Steven Arc."
