[Author's note: Apologies for the late completion of the next instalment. The final year at university is taking its toll on all activities which aren't work related, however, the next chapter is at last complete and I've got some juicy action scenes for you all ;). If people still like the story/where it is heading, by all means let me know, reviewing the chapters is how I know you're all still interested in the story :). Anyhow, if there are any suggestions or things that people would really like to see in the story, I will do my best to incorporate it into what I have planned. Enjoy!]
Chapter 2
I Don't Want To Control You, I Want To Unleash You
Time passed slowly but steadily. The hole that marred Adren's heart continued to consume his thoughts and dreams. Roland did his best to ease the flame that burned within the boy, assuming the role of a surrogate father for the child. His wife and he had always wanted a child, for they had been unable to conceive one of their own. It was like a blessing wrapped in the guise of a curse.
As he had promised, Roland taught Adren how to use weapons. The soldiers knew the child and both pitied him yet admired his spirit. He was determined. He would not simply accept defeat. He was not the only to have lost loved ones in the war, and he was not the only one who desired revenge. On this the soldiers found common ground with him, and so they looked after him, teaching him tactics and how to fight like they did. In-between school, Adren would meet Roland at the barracks and train in the ways of war, learning all that he could.
After the passing of two years Adren stood at the age of ten. A day would always stand out in his memory from this age. It was a bitter day for not only him but also the marines in whose company he was accepted. He sat with some of the men at the mess hall, Roland sitting by his side. "No, you need to watch your damn ammo count is what you need to do," said Roland with a chuckle to one of the soldiers sitting on the opposite side of the table.
"So I'm a spray and pray type of guy, it works don't it? Trust me, Private Dan always knows what he's doing!" replied the marine, pointing a thumb towards himself as he spoke in third person, a southern drawl clinging to his words. His smile curled his lips upon his clean shaven face. His black hair and dark eyes seemed to almost exacerbate his partly gaunt face.
"I'm with the Lieutenant on this one," said another marine. "One day you're gonna be caught in a hella bad fight and you'll need every bullet you can get."
Another soldier joined the group at the table, having overheard the last part of the conversation. He sat next to Roland. "Lieutenant, eh? So you finally got that promotion? It's about damn time!"
The soldiers gave a quick "hoorah!" to which Roland smiled and chuckled. "That's right, baby. I'm a lean, mean, commanding machine now. How long do we think until you've got these stripes, kiddo?" he asked, turning to Adren and tapping the boy's shoulder with the back of his hand.
Adren smiled. "Three years," he joked.
The soldiers laughed and Roland ruffled his hair. "Hey, Adren," started Private Dan. "Do the cup thing," he slid the cup from which Adren was drinking to the other side of the table.
Roland laughed. "No, man, none of this 'cup thing', you know there are people here that would report him straight to the Ghost Academy. One day someone is gonna..."
Private Dan raised a hand and interrupted Roland. "Don't worry, there ain't gonna be no 'one day'. None of the high ranking officers who'd report him come in here anyway. Look around, man; there ain't a single person in here who'd see harm come to him, so come on. Pretty please?"
"With a cherry on top," said another marine.
Roland shook his head, a smile still stuck to his face. Adren enjoyed sitting in the mess hall, the mood was always of a light hearted nature. "C'mon," Private Dan begged, the other soldiers joining in.
"Alright, alright, you bastards," Roland chuckled and gave the boy a nod. "Go ahead, Adren."
The child outstretched his arm, aiming it at the cup, his eyes intensely focused on it. The marines started to speak words of encouragement cheerily mixed with many an excitedly shouted "come on" and "yes".
The cup started to wobble slightly. It jerked a forward a little before slowly sliding towards Adren's hand. This fuelled those looking on, their shouts becoming more frivolous and energetic, and their smiles growing wider. "Yes, come on!" said one of the men.
The cup slid at a faster pace, gliding into Adren's hand and spilling some of the water on the table. The soldiers threw their hands up and gave cheers. Smiles and laughter filled the air. It was moments like these Adren would always remember with a spark of happiness in his heart.
Some of the marines were focused on the televisions hanging from the walls. Some of them shushed those beside them as more and more faces turned to the televisions. "Yo, listen up, guys," said one of the soldiers, looking at the group Adren was sitting with.
"Can someone turn these things up?" yelled a marine.
The volume was increased so that all those in the mess hall could hear as a deadly silence lingered in the air, changing the scene of vigorous happiness almost instantly. It was a news report, supposedly a special announcement. A reporter stood onscreen, a large city backdrop behind him as well as thousands of people cheering. "The crowd's uproar here of Korhal IV is clearly evident as the Guild War finally comes to an end. The Confederacy has claimed victory as peace was reportedly negotiated with the Kel-Morian Combine. Although Moria has been left independent, its supporting guilds have been captured by the Confederacy. Many who were part of the Kel-Morian Combine are still at large, having fled from Confederate forces. It is believed that those directly responsible for many terrorist attacks on the civilian populations of worlds such as Mar Sara, Tyrador VIII and Chau Sara have not been located by the Confederacy. The search continues, but officials say there is little hope of them being located. For farmers, the end of the war is especially welcome news. The agricultural community will be sure to benefit from this victory, as the decrease in money spent on weapon manufacturing will see a steady increase in food production."
The report continued as many of the soldiers turned away from the television in a state of almost disbelief. They knew that the war was not going well for the Kel-Morians, but they thought that they would at least receive one last chance at avenging their loved ones who fell in the assault on their town. One of the marines shot up from his seat, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "This is a load of bullshit!" he said, his face screwed up as he fought desperately to fight back the tears. "We were gonna get justice for what those monsters did! How are we supposed to do that now? How do I get justice for my daughter? How do I get justice for my wife? How do I..." he held a fist to his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks, unable to finish his sentence.
The marines close to him tried their best to comfort him, but everyone felt the same. Another marine also broke into shouting. "They've still got my family! Those bastards that escaped still have them, and now I can't do a thing to get them back 'cause they're hidin' like damn cockroaches! The Confederacy ain't gonna go lookin' for them! They've got their victory; they don't care what happens now!"
Angry remarks and saddened faces filled the hall. Roland buried his face in the palm on his hand, a tear trickling down his cheek. Adren looked at him with watery eyes, his mouth ajar but words unable to form. Roland nodded and wrapped an arm around the child. "I know, kid. I know," he took a deep breath and wiped away the tear. "We'll figure something out. Don't you worry, they'll pay for what they've done and we'll get your mother back. You'll see."
Five years seemed to pass quickly for Adren, his mind growing ever focused, his powers growing stronger. With hatred his fuel and determination his spark, Adren trained with such vigour that it was not long before he was allowed by those of high rank to train with live weapons. He trained on the practice range with the other soldiers as well as using their obstacle courses to train his body. Roland tried his best to help Adren in the training of his psionic abilities, but most of the time it was to little avail, as Roland could only teach the boy so much. He was, however, able to teach Adren how to continue hiding his abilities from those that would see him sent to the Ghost Academy. The teenager did not even wish to think about the consequences of being sent to that accursed place where his memory would be altered and his personality obliterated, leaving all but an obedient husk of what he once was.
It was a hot summer's afternoon, the ground itself rippling with waves of heat, yet still Adren crouched with weapon in hand, his eyes looking down the sights of his gun, his aim focused on his target in the distance. The heat waves distorted the image, making targeting especially hard, yet he simply stood, focusing his mind. The very air around him was silent, as if waiting with held breath in anticipation of his next move. He gently started to squeeze the trigger. He corrected his aim one last time, moving the gun slightly to the left. He fired three shots, one missing outright, another grazing the target dummy's shoulder, and the final bullet hitting the chest dead centre.
A hand came crashing down on his shoulder. "Well done, kid," said a somewhat raspy voice. The man from whom the voice sounded gave Adren a smile. His hair was short and light brown, his face clean shaven as was almost all those present in the Mar Sara garrison. His grey eyes were asquint in the bright sun, showing the faint yet present wrinkles from forty years of age. His cap was the only thing to shade his eyes from the glaring sun.
"Thank you, Sergeant Bakes, but I thought only one of those shots was any good," Adren stated.
"Don't beat yourself up, kid. That was a hard shot to pull off. That target is over three hundred and fifty yards away, so I'd say you did damn well. Besides, I don't know many other fifteen-year-olds who could land two hits on a target that far away. Next time try breathing out slowly as you fire. Just take your time with the shot, line your sights up and then when you're ready, only then pull the trigger."
Adren gave the Sergeant a nod and shouldered the weapon again. He waited, taking his time to line up the target. He slowly exhaled then fired three shots once again, each soaring through the air and hitting the target in the chest. A smile curved Sergeant Bakes' lips as he watched the target through his binoculars. He gave Adren a nod of approval, to which the boy could not help but smile in happiness.
"Excellent work, that's enough for today," said Bakes with a nod.
"Yes, sir," Adren saluted the Sergeant who returned the gesture.
The day soon came to an end and as usual, Adren met up with Roland before returning with him to their home, where dinner lay ready and waiting. As soon as the two walked through the door the smell of roasted meat caressed their nostrils. Roland's wife, Mary, came to the door to greet the two. "Dinner's ready, so go and get changed quickly," she still wore a cooking apron, her thick black hair tied in a bun. Her pale mauve top and white pants contrasted strongly with her dark skin. Her clothes still held remnants of the perfume she had worn to work. She worked as a teacher at the local junior school. Since she loved children it only made sense.
Adren went upstairs to his room to take off his shirt which was covered in dirt from shooting practice outside. He slipped on a loose yet comfortable red coloured shirt, changing his pants as well before heading downstairs to join his surrogate family at the dinner table.
"So," said Mary. "How did today go?"
Roland smiled and looked at Adren. "Well I've been hearing some rumours that we've got a little deadeye in the making. But apart from our marksman here pulling off some fine shots, today's been pretty darn hectic to say the least. Everyone's rushin' around to make preparations for the arrival of Colonel Karrasar. Which reminds me," Roland's expression became somewhat more sober. "While he's here, you're going to have to be extremely careful. He's most likely going to have guards with him, and I would suspect, with all the anti-Confederacy terrorists which have been going around, those guards will be psionics. He won't wanna take any chances with his safety, so I think it's best if you just stay out of sight for a couple of days. The last thing we want is you getting caught and taken off to have your brain wiped and every piece of who you are lost. Are we in agreement?"
Adren nodded. "Don't worry; I don't want to have who I am erased. I'll stay out of trouble."
Roland and Mary smiled. "Good," he said. "See, nothing to worry about," he said to Mary.
"I know, he's a good boy," she turned her gaze to Adren, who couldn't help but smile and shake his head. "And I'm sure he will stay out of trouble."
The next days to come provided naught but frustration for most. Preparations were made for the arrival of Colonel Karrasar and the whole garrison was abuzz with talk of his pending visit. Adren spent one last day with the soldiers before staying in the safety of his home. He sat at the mess hall table with the soldiers, Private Dan and Sergeant Bakes among them. "I reckon I'm in with a pretty damn good chance here," said a marine with a cocky smile. He had short, light brown hair, not short enough to be a crew cut, but long enough to be a few centimetres in length. His eyes were of a similar colour to his hair, light brown, somewhat hazel in appearance. His face was shaved clean of facial hair, his cheekbones high but not all that prominent.
The soldiers nearby chuckled. "The Colonel's looking for the best of the best, what makes you think you're in the running, Jake?" joked Sergeant Bakes, a smile on his face.
"Hey," said Jake, the cocky smile still curving his lips. "I'm the best damn sniper in this system!"
"Oh please," said the soldier sitting next to him with a laugh. The man got up out of his chair and stood facing Jake. "My 'little friend' would have a better chance than you," he gestured towards his crotch before looking at the group with a loud cackle.
The soldiers laughed, as did Jake who proceeded to punch the soldier in the genitals, spurring yet more laughter as the man sat back down, his hands covering his crotch. Jake let off a chortle and rubbed the man's bald head playfully, the soldier slapped Jakes leg with the back of his hand while he too laughed, as he knew it was all in the name of fun and games. "Damn," said Adren. "You must be a good shot if you can hit Ray's 'little friend'."
The soldiers laughed aloud, one slapping the table as laughter bellowed from his mouth. Ray could not help but cackle as well. "Damn it, you're supposed to be on my side here," he chuckled.
"How 'bout you, Adren," said Lacy, one of the medics. "You've got some serious potential; I think you should show the Colonel what you've got."
"I'd love to, but I'm planning on staying inside for the next couple of days," he replied.
"Aw, but why would you wanna do that?" she asked.
"C'mon, Lacy, you know the answer to that," said Sergeant Bakes with his characteristic raspy voice. "That's some damn good thinking, Adren. It ain't worth the risk of you being discovered as a psionic. Just remember to stay out of trouble, no matter what happens."
"Don't you worry, I will be. But seriously, what's the worst that could happen in the few days he's here?"
"These are strange times," said Private Dan. "There are terrorists coming up all over the place, all of 'em wanting one thing."
"And what's that?" asked Jake.
"To do as much damage to the Confederacy as possible. The Colonel is a high ranking officer who's rumoured to be involved in pretty high-end projects. Taking out him would be a major setback."
"Oh come on, there's no need to get the kid all worked up like that," Bakes turned back to Adren. "Don't worry, nothing's gonna happen. And even if it does, you stay inside and out of sight, got it?"
"Yes, mother," he said with a cheeky smile, to which the others laughed.
Bakes chuckled and shook his head, playfully slapping Adren's arm before taking a sip of his drink.
In the days which followed, Adren stayed out of sight until after four days of living as a recluse, the Colonel finally arrived. Adren stood at the door of the house the morning of the Colonel's arrival, saying goodbye to Roland. "Don't worry, he'll be gone in a couple of days and you'll be able to go back to the garrison. Whatever happens, just stay inside until then, it'll all be over soon enough, I promise," he hugged Adren.
To him Adren had truly become like a son. To him, that they did not share the same blood was of no consequence. Roland thought it as trivial as the superficial difference of his skin being dark and Adren's white. Adren felt the same way, seeing Roland as a father. When he did think of his real father, he was filled with anger more than sorrow. He was angry that he never had the chance to get to know his father all that well, and that he didn't receive the chance to feel true sorrow. He felt hollow. In the company of the marines he could forget about it all and simply enjoy their presence, leaving behind the feeling like he was half devoid of a soul.
He lay down on his bed, two pillows behind him and his hand behind his head propping him up slightly, not quite sitting up, but not quite lying down. He watched the television which sat atop a table in his room. The cream coloured table was in line with the bed and pushed against the wall, leaving a gap between the table's beginning and the bed's end. The walls of his room were painted with a very pale yellow, his curtains a light beige to match the walls. Posters were hung up around his room, mostly posters used by the Confederacy which featured marines or tanks, some with fleets of battlecruisers, wraith fighters scattered in-between the hulking ships. There was a poster with a Goliath, a rising sun behind it and marines standing at the war machine's feet, a flag planted in the ground. Other tables and shelves in his room had model ships, toys, magazines and books strewn among them, yet most of them were neatly organised. A picture of his father and mother holding him as a young child was kept in a drawer, out of sight, for he had decided to try his best at moving on instead of lingering in the past. When he did so, it evoked powerful emotions, rage taking hold of his mind and often manifesting in undesirable ways through his psionic abilities.
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, turning his head to look at the door.
Mary opened the door and popped her head through. "Something's come up and they need me to come in at work," she started.
"Didn't you have the day off today?" he asked.
"I did, but there's been a big mix up. They don't have enough teachers for the day and its parent teacher night, so I may not be home until fairly late, will you be alright here by yourself?"
Adren nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I'll be fine."
"Just stay inside and I'll be back as soon as I can. If you get hungry you can reheat some of the leftovers from last night in the fridge. Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"It's fine, I'll be alright, trust me."
"Okay, I'll see you later then," she said, closing the door.
"Bye," he said in a raised voice so that she would hear through the closed door.
He looked outside the window, knowing he was unable to leave the house. He leant forward with a struggle, pulling the curtains closed to cover it. He went back to his lazed position, continuing to watch the movie on the television. It was a strange movie in which spider mines gained a form of sentience. It was supposedly a horror film, but Adren found most of it funny more than anything else due to bad screenplay.
A dart board hung above his television, fixed securely to the wall. In his hand he held darts, which he threw at the board lazily while watching the television screen, using his psionic abilities to retrieve the darts from the board without ever getting off the bed. He tossed the dart, hitting the board almost dead centre before outstretching his arm, sending the dart flying back into his grasp from where he drew his hand back and, without taking aim, slothfully threw it at the board again.
Unbeknownst to him, in a different part of the town a small group of men worked in the grim darkness of a home, all blinds closed so that little light entered. They sat preparing weapons, loading rifles and checking explosives. They stood over a map, making final preparations to their plans, discussing it and pointing at key locations on the map marked with red crosses and circles. For protection they donned full body suits of light armour, mobile enough to move in yet enough protection from light firearms. Upon their faces they wore masks to cover their features thus that should they succeed, their identities would remain unknown. They darted about the room, packing and readying the final pieces of the equipment they would need. As they finalised their plans while standing around the map, the leader of the group gave a few words of encouragement to bolster their spirits, delivering it with enthusiasm while knowing full well many would not live to see another day. He did not care. Upon the conclusion of his words, seeing the zeal in the eyes of his men, he stabbed a knife into a picture of a man which rested on the map's corner. The knife pierced the photo of the man between his eyes. They gave a cheer, smirking with self-satisfaction behind their masks, the final gesture giving them a fanatical lust to see their mission to completion. With their planning concluded, they prepared for their mobilisation and for the implementation of their first steps.
Adren still sat on his bed, the rather long movie reaching its end. He screwed his face up and winced for a split second as a strange feeling coursed through him. It came to him as a shock, as if he had just been jolted with a light dose of electricity. He did not know what it was; he simply had a strange feeling as if something bad was soon to happen. He jumped slightly as a voice sounded in his mind. "Rise in the light or fall in the shadows," it echoed.
He sat perfectly still; the only part of him moving was his eyes which darted about the room. "Hello?" he asked. "Is anyone there?" he said with a raised voice.
He received no answer and so shook it off, thinking the voice to have been naught but the television. And so he continued to feast on chips and watch poor television shows as the time passed by.
The sun started to fall in the sky as darkness began to consume the town. The last rays of red light shone in beams across the sky, the columns of light parted by scattered clouds. He opened the blinds to see the magnificent colours as the sun slowly started to pass below the horizon.
He turned his gaze back to the television and sunk back down into his bed, serenity enveloping his mind and body. The world itself seemed silent, the only noise being that coming from the television.
The moment of tranquillity was all but shattered by the sound of a thunderous explosion in the distance, the whole house shook and car alarms were set off, letting off a series of piercing, chaotic sounds. Adren's eyes widened, his heart seeming to skip a beat from shock. His gaze snapped to the window from which he could see a ball of fire rising into the sky, black smoke mottling the bright flames and twisting high into the sky. He watched for a moment, unable to think clearly.
It was not long before a local news report interrupted the current television program. "We interrupt this program for an emergency broadcast," said a voice as the logo of the local news station appeared. The image changed to that of a reporter who sat in his chair, his tie crooked and hastily donned. Fear had set in his dark eyes as he spoke with a somewhat shaky voice, his dark brown hair only partly combed.
"Hello people of Mar Sara, a large explosion has just rocked the streets of Maraville, tearing through a section of the main hospital in the town. It is suspected to be the work of terrorists who have ruthlessly targeted the civilian population in a daring and desperate attack," the reporter stopped speaking; he looked away from the camera in a look of concentration, placing a finger over his earpiece to better hear what was being said. He looked back up at the camera with a solemn gaze and cleared his throat in a nervous manner. "This just in, there are reports of another bomb somewhere in the town. Demands have just been made by the terrorists who say that the bomb is located in the local junior school. They say that if anyone tries to leave the school or if their demands are not met they will detonate the explosives. Negotiations are being made as police scramble to the site."
The report continued, but Adren had heard enough. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He did not know what to do. He thought for a moment then realised what was happening. It was a distraction. 'Then their target is Colonel Karrasar,' he thought to himself.
He sat for a moment, vexed by the deep thoughts passing through his mind. If he went to the school to help Mary and the children, then the Colonel would die alongside his friends and most importantly to him, Roland. If he made his way to the military base to lend them his assistance, he would almost undoubtedly be caught and sent to the Ghost Academy and Mary would most likely be killed by the terrorists. "She will be safe," echoed a voice in his mind.
He flinched at the sound of it, as he did before. "Who are you?" he asked. There was no reply.
He shook his head, and rubbed his eyes trying to make a decision. "The base," he said to himself.
He quickly changed into clothes which he thought would better serve his desire to remain unseen. To blend with the darkness he wore black jeans, a black hooded top and over that a black trench coat. He ran downstairs and opened the front door, looking out at the scene before him. Almost all those in the neighbouring houses had come out of their homes to see what was going on. Sirens sounded as emergency rescue vehicles sped to the scene of the bombing while police vehicles made their way to the school. In the distance, smoke rose high into the sky, a red glow illuminating the writhing column.
He stepped through the door and shut it, setting off down the street at a run as he pulled the hood over his head. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, taking all the shortcuts he knew. He stood helpless against those who claimed his family once before, he would not yield history another chance to repeat itself. And so he ran until his lungs felt as though they were trying to jump out from his mouth itself, and yet he kept running. He was determined to save Roland, a determination which caused all other discomforts of pushing his body beyond its abilities to ebb away in a chaotic storm of emotions.
"Is everything set?" asked the terrorist leader.
"Yes, all attention has been diverted to the school. We're ready to move out on your mark," said his second in command.
"Good," he nodded in satisfaction, a smile twisting his lips behind the mask he wore. "And the device?"
"It's here," said the man, pulling out a strange looking piece of technology. "What is it?"
"This," said the leader. "Is what will block the minds of any psionics who try to get in our way. We don't want our plans to be discovered too early now do we? It's a psychic dampener. It'll be just enough to block them from reading our minds, but apart from that, we'll need to take them out pretty fast. Now tell the men to get ready."
His second in command nodded and walked away. The terrorist leader looked down at the device for a moment. He stood in a secluded loading bay, his men standing close by. The ground beneath them was paved with asphalt, white lines marked into areas to indicate boundaries, parking spaces, and lanes. The silence in the area was almost eerie; the only sound to be heard was the faint sirens in the distance. The air itself seemed still.
The three captured military trucks which were to be used to take them to their target all rumbled gently, their engines running and ready to go. The doors to the back compartments were open, and with the order of their leader, the terrorists boarded the vehicles. Their leader stood for a moment, looking towards the rising smoke from their first set explosion. He boarded the leftmost truck, sitting with his men and hungry for chaotic destruction.
Adren could run no more, he had to stop, to take a few breaths. He leaned against a wall, his heart pounding, every breath painful as he tried to gulp in the air. He knew what would happen if he failed. 'No,' he thought to himself. 'I won't fail... I can't fail... I can't. Not this time.'
"Some things are beyond our control," echoed the voice from before, ringing through his mind.
"No," he said aloud. "No!"
He continued running, a part of him accepting defeat already. His mind wandered back to the memories of losing his family. His eyes grew watery as he ran.
The terrorist vehicles moved onwards, closing in on their destination. "When those doors open, be ready for combat," started the rebel leader. "They won't be expecting an attack, so there shouldn't be too many armed guards. If you see anyone with a weapon, you take them out immediately; the rest can be killed later. And remember, we don't take prisoners. Once the Colonel is dead, you kill anyone you see on sight, understood?"
"Yes, sir," echoed the men.
Roland stood next to the Colonel, a rifle slung around his shoulders. He clapped, as did the Colonel and all others who watched the shot which had just been taken, the bullet having just hit the target with masterful precision.
Although seats were set up, Karrasar stood, the other high ranking officers sat, however. The area they were in was once the main section of the outpost, a large rectangular space with walls that had long ago been used for defensive purposes. With the expansion of the base, the area had become redundant, and so it came to serve as a storage area. Most of the space had been cleared for the Colonel's visit, but many crates were still lying around, in a somewhat more ordered fashion now, however. Five tanks which had been decommissioned were lined up against the left wall, as well as several smaller vehicles. The concrete had been damaged over time, and so it had been taken off, replaced with a carpet of grass to cover the entire area. Targets had been set up along the front wall, and the seats upon which the high ranking officers sat were set up at the back wall. Those who were partaking in the tests were located but a few metres before the officers.
Adren's running had slowed into a jog, his body unable to run any faster, sweat dripping down his face and soaking into his clothes. A stitch had set into his stomach, causing a stabbing pain with each movement he made. He winced with almost every step, but still he kept jogging. He stopped for a moment, collapsing onto his hands and knees. He panted heavily, droplets of sweat falling to the ground. He stayed there for a moment, not moving, just remaining on his hands and knees, his eyes fixed on the concrete. Defeat seemed imminent. His mind played tricks on him, convincing him that he would arrive to see nothing but his friends slaughtered and his surrogate father all but dead.
"Were almost there," said the driver of the truck in which the terrorist leader rode.
"Good," said the leader. "When those doors open, you kill everything. Like I said, go for anyone who's armed first. Remember, no prisoners, no survivors."
The truck started to slow down. The terrorists fell dead silent as the driver was approached by the guards at the first gate. The leader of the group could hear the muffled voices speaking, but most of the words he couldn't make out. The only ones he could hear properly were the last that the guard spoke. "Go on ahead, have a good night."
'Oh we will,' he thought to himself.
"Get ready for some fun," he said, to which his men let off a chuckle.
Private Dan had been chosen to be on guard duty in the area. He stood to the side of the officers. He and Roland exchanged a look and smiled as their friend approached the end of his tests. Jake looked back at the officers, his eyes finding Roland before he raised his eyebrows for a second and shot him a cocky smile. Roland gave him a nod as he prepared to step up to the final test, waiting for the soldier before him to finish his shot.
Roland drew a deep breath and let off a sigh. He put his hand in his pocket to pull out his watch, his fingers brushing against paper. He pulled out the piece of paper instead, smiling as he saw that it was a picture of him standing next to Adren, the boy with a wide smile and a military uniform on. He had forgotten that the picture was in his coat. He thought of the child as the crowd clapped, the sound of their applaud seeming almost drowned out and muffled in his state of distraction.
Adren stood back up, brushing the sand and grit from his hands. "Not this time," he said to himself aloud, brows crossed and his eyes set forward. He set off at a run again, his determination allowing him to run faster and faster. "I'm almost there," he panted. "I'm almost there."
He reached one of the entrances to the base. He knew one of the men on guard duty. "Kip, it's me, it's Adren. You have to let me in!"
The man saw the desperation in the winded teenager. He nodded. "Okay, hold on."
The gate opened and Adren ran through. "What's going on?" asked the man.
"The Colonel and everyone near him are in danger! Have there been any trucks coming into the base recently?"
"Well yeah, three just came in through the west entrance a short while ago. Are you sure that there's a threat?"
"Yes!" said Adren aloud, his eyebrows were raised in a look of utter concern. "Just get as many soldiers as you can and get to the testing area!"
Kip nodded. "Okay," he did not argue.
Roland smiled and clapped profusely as Jake pulled off his final shot, hitting the moving target dead centre, despite how far away it was and how fast it was moving. Jake let off a loud whoop, raising his gun into the air. The Colonel smiled and chuckled as he clapped.
The crowd continued to clap as a truck with military painting slowly pulled into the testing area through one of the large arena-like entrances. It came to a stop approximately forty metres before the officers. The clapping slowly died away as people looked on in confusion, some asking what was going on. "What's that?" asked one of the officers. "It's just stopped, but why a hundred and thirty feet away from us?"
"Is this part of the testing?" asked another.
The two ghost troopers with the Colonel could sense something wasn't right. They both set off towards the truck, Private Dan accompanying them. The three approached the driver, questioning him before moving to the truck's rear. They shouldered their weapons, pointing them at the doors, unsure what to expect. All seemed silent, a silence which was broken as the back doors flung open.
Adren's feet hurt from running on the hard concrete, but he would not give up on his friends. Kip ran to get help, summoning all available soldiers. They instantly responded by running to gun racks, preparing their weapons and setting off at a run towards the testing grounds.
Adren was far ahead of the other soldiers, the testing ground in sight. He ran onwards, the only sound coming from his feet hitting the concrete. The echo of shots arose, accompanied by shouts. He ran faster, knowing he had but seconds.
The ghosts were killed instantly, taken by surprise. Private Dan was shot in the chest, but he managed to let off a number of shots, killing one of the terrorists and destroying the psychic dampener. The terrorists stormed out of the truck, hiding behind it for cover as they released a number of shots into the crowd. Some of the officers were hit, the guards fighting back to the best of their ability. "Get out of the testing grounds now!" yelled Roland, who proceeded to pull the trigger of his gun, hitting one of the terrorists in the left eye.
The crowd ran towards one of the exits, but their escape route was cut short as another truck burst through the small space, tearing a section of the concrete away. The other entrance met a similar fate, having a truck burst through it, terrorists starting to pour forth into the field. Roland looked on, closing his eyes and dropping his gun as the enemy moved in on the group, their weapons ready to fire. All seemed silent and almost serene to him. "It should've been on Chau Sara," he whispered to himself.
Time itself seemed to slow as one of the terrorists aimed his gun at Roland, squeezing the trigger. The bullet burst out, piercing the air as it sped towards its target. Roland winced as he felt something tear into his chest. He opened his eyes, looking down as he held a hand to the source of the pain. He lifted his hand away to see blood covering it before falling to his knees. The terrorist took aim again, his finger starting to squeeze the trigger as he savoured the pain of his victim.
From out of nowhere, what sounded like an explosion pierced the silence. Roland's eyes snapped over to where it had come from. The third truck to pull into the area had been pushed forwards, its fuel compartment having exploded. The explosion had knocked down the terrorists close to it, killing some from the blast. The flames seemed to part for a figure dressed in black that walked slowly through them. The person had their hand outstretched, their head covered by a black hood. "Adren, no," said Roland under his breath, sensing the boy's presence.
Adren walked forwards, anger coursing through his mind as he saw various dead and wounded men. As the enemy reformed, he ran over to the largest chunk of what was once the truck, taking cover behind it. Bullets whizzed past him, whistling in the air as they did. Loud ding sounds erupted as bullets made contact with the metal. Adren was covered by darkness; the only thing to illuminate his outline was a flame to his left as he sat with his back against the chunk of metal. He turned his head to the right, looking over at Roland who was on the ground, staring at Adren with his brows knitted in a look of concern. "No," whispered Roland. "Go back."
Every piece of Adren's body told him to run away, to flee the scene, but the echoing voice sounded once again in the deep recessed of his mind. "Rise in the light or fall in the shadows."
He peeked over his hiding spot, ducking back down as sparks erupted close to his face from a bullet's impact. He looked back at Roland who once again mouthed the word "no".
The teenager sat still, his body pressed up against the metal. He blinked as bullets clanged against the remnants of the truck, his eyes still fixed on Roland. He looked at the exit, then back at Roland, trying to make a choice. The voice in his mind grew stronger, having but one word to say, it's voice growing louder each time it spoke the word. "Rise!" it said while Adren's anger grew at the sight of his fallen surrogate father. "Rise! ...RISE!"
He felt as if his body was surging with power. It felt as if something was augmenting his psionic strength, but what it was he did not know. He did not care. As strength flowed through him, he clenched his fists, his mind drunk on power and the desire for destruction.
The gunshots stopped for a moment, the terrorists thinking the boy dead. He stepped out of his hiding place, the light from the fires illuminating his face for all to see.
The terrorists tried to form up, firing at Adren. He held out both of his hands as he walked forwards, marching towards the first truck to have entered the field. The bullets fired at him moved around him as he created an unseen bubble of energy. The tracer rounds could be seen bending through the air as they curved around his body.
The terrorists regrouped at the truck, hiding behind it as Adren shot forth a psionic pulse. It tore up the grass before him and sent the three enemy soldiers in front of him flying forwards, their bodies twisted and their bones broken. At the sight of this, the rest panicked, trying to run towards the truck for cover. Adren used pieces of debris as projectiles, sending them into the stragglers.
He moved towards the truck, standing in the centre of the testing area, looking back at Roland once again whose eyes were starting to close. Painful memories of loss and of anger passed through Adren's mind. He let off a long drawn bellow of anger as the truck started to rip apart. The Colonel, who had been crouching for cover started to stand, his blue eyes wide with a mix of emotion. "Magnificent," he said under his breath, a tear sliding down his cheek.
The metal and wreckage started to spin in a tornado of debris, Adren at the centre of the tempest. His yell continued as the tanks started to shake before floating in the air, joining the chaotic, spinning storm of metal. The terrorists were sucked into it as well, their bodies tearing apart from the storm or simply being killed by the pieces of metal flying through the air. The terrorist leader was the last of the enemy to remain standing. Adren focused his sights on the man. The leader was lifted off the ground, floating in mid air, his arms and legs spread outwards as they were pulled by an unseen power. He screamed as his body was torn asunder, the pieces joining the storm briefly. Adren's bellow ceased and the storm stopped abruptly, some of the heavier pieces dropping instantly, while others came to a stop mid-air, floating before all falling to the ground in unison.
Adren collapsed onto his hands and knees, his body feeling so very weak, his head throbbing in such a pain that his face was screwed up, his eyes heavily asquint, his teeth showing as he clenched them together.
The soldiers who had been gathered by Kip came running through the open entrance, looking at the scene of utter devastation before them. "Come on," said one of the soldiers. "We need medics now! Get them to the infirmary!"
Adren's eyes started to close as the pain grew worse. He blacked out as all the sounds of the world drowned away.
When consciousness slowly returned to Adren, the extreme pains which riddled his head had dissipated into a light headache. He heard a beeping sound and could feel a somewhat uncomfortable blanket covering his body. He slowly opened his eyes to see that he was in a hospital room. There was another bed set up to his right, upon which a figure lay. He turned his head on the side to see that it was Roland. "Roland," he said, sitting up and slowly shifting off the bed.
"Woah, easy, easy," came a voice.
Adren looked over to see Jake approaching him, Mary and a group of soldiers he recognised were close behind. They took hold of his arms and supported him as he stood up slowly, moving over to Roland. Mary looked into Adren's eyes and smiled. "You saved him. They expect that he'll make a full recovery."
A soft, drowsy laugh came from Roland's direction, sounding almost like a cough. "You didn't think you'd be getting rid of me that easily did you?" he said with a smile, his voice coarse and little more than a whisper.
"Well," said Adren. "I was hoping to buy a new car with the insurance money."
They all laughed. "What happened at the school?" asked Adren, looking at Mary.
"There were only two men there. Snipers killed them and rescued all of us."
The group heard footsteps walking through the doorway. There stood a man in a formal military suit strewn with badges and medals. The man had short, brown hair which was starting to experience greying. He appeared to be in his late fifties, several wrinkles starting to crease his forehead and the corners of his eyes. He had a short, somewhat thick nose which appeared to be slightly crooked on part of the ridge from having broken it at one stage of his life. His eyes were blue and, as he approached the group, they seemed to hold a rather gentle look which was devoid of malice or cruel intent. His face was kept clean shaven, but a light shadow of scruff had started to become established, as in his excitement the menial task of shaving in the morning had slipped his mind.
As he approached Adren, the light-hearted mood had all but passed, a more solemn tone setting in. He looked the teenager in the eyes as he walked towards him, however, his walk was cut short as the marines stepped in his way to block his path. "I'm sorry, sir," said Jake. "But I'm afraid we can't let you take him to be part of the Ghost Program."
The Colonel smiled and shook his head while holding up a hand. "No, no, you mistake my intentions," he said with a deep yet gentle voice. Were the man from Earth, his accent would be called British. "Your defence of the boy is admirable. I'd expect no less from soldiers of this regiment's standard."
"It's okay," Adren said to the soldiers.
The soldiers warily parted, allowing the Colonel to stand before the boy. "What you did out there last night was incredible. I've never seen anything like it; not from one as young and as untrained as yourself. As you know, I am here to find the best soldiers this galaxy has to offer. What you do not know, is that I am searching for something. In this galaxy, several artefacts have been found. They emanate untold power and have been known to augment psionic levels. It is my belief that this is how you were able to unleash a psionic storm of such an immense magnitude."
"So you're saying there's some sort of artefact nearby?" asked Roland.
"Indeed," replied the Colonel. "I will be sending men to search for it later. I will not bore you with details, but one of my psionics encountered one of these artefacts and was granted an insight into the future. I know that the Confederacy will not last, and that dark things will engulf the galaxy soon enough."
"I'm not going to let you take him to some place just to have you erase every piece of who he is," said Roland.
"I do not want him to join the Ghost Program."
"How do I know I can trust you?" asked Roland before the Colonel could continue to speak.
Karrasar smiled. "Because I too am a psionic," he turned his gaze to Adren. "To erase a mind such as yours and to dampen your abilities would be such a monumental waste. I can sense in you a great beast; a beast about which I can teach all that you desire and need to know. I want you to join me. Not the Confederacy, not the Ghost Program, just me."
"It sounds too good to be true," said Adren. "But I'm guessing you'll want to find some way to control me so you can send me into the fight against this 'darkness'?"
The colonel chuckled. "No, my boy; I do not want to control you," his eyes were wide and radiant at the thought of things to come. "I want to unleash you."