Grinde Galaxy Chapter 7

 

Chapter 7

The path to the training center was barren. I pushed open a broken automatic door, causing it to screech across the deck. The interior of the training center was high-ceilinged, with a walkway that looped around the second floor. Ancient pieces of workout machinery lay scattered around the first floor.

All at once the lights turned on and the ventilation system started rumbling.

Allen: “Every Tolk super cruiser has amenities such as this. It’s a sorrow that this particular environment has been so neglected.”

“The Atlas is a Tolk super cruiser?”

“Of course it is. Did you think your current pathetic Empire had the technological knowhow to create a ship of this size?”

“Well, I just assumed that the tech priests had figured something out.”

Allen: “No. Not a chance. This ship is capable of so much more than what you’re using it for. But no matter. I will repair the machinery in this room for you to utilize. Bring me to that socket over there.” My interface device pointed a small laser at a recession in the wall of the training room.

I brought my interface device to the recession and plugged it in using a universal adapter.

“Ooh, good. The network is still stable.” The console within the recession beeped a few times. “Okay. I got everything figured out. There’s a couple of strength training machines I just activated. Do you want to try them out?”

“Sure.” I walked to one of the machines in the center of the room. “What does this machine do?”

“That is a leg machine. You use it to increase the mass of your leg muscles.”

“Okay!”

I spent the next hour working out on the various machines. While I did, I contemplated my next move. I knew that, eventually, I would see combat. There was no doubt about that fact. I needed to be ready to handle anything that could go wrong. I knew, however, that I was chaff. To the Empire, I meant nothing except another body to throw against the never-ending tide of monsters that beset humanity. It wasn’t just the synths out there. There were all sorts of alien threats that required an iron fist and a company of space marines to defeat.

At that moment the Atlas jumped out of warp. I felt it as a drop in my stomach and a piercing headache that lasted only a few seconds.

Allen: “Looks like we’ve arrived in the Qualar system.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to have.”

I got off the arm training machine. “Should I report back to Isac?”

At that moment the console at the entrance to the training center beeped.

I walked over and accessed the message.

Mythe. Come to my office now. Also, we need to get you a comm.

I turned away from the console and left the training room. A few minutes later I was knocking on Isac’s office door.

“Come in.”

I entered. The room was the same as ever. Isac turned to look at me. “I have some things to do ashore. You’re going to come with me.”

“Yes sir.” I saluted.

“Good.” Isac stood up. “We’re heading to the craft bay.”

I followed Isac out of the office and into the hallway. A dozen other Rymarchi were gathering, heading towards the same space.

We entered the craft bay. The Rhymarchi gathered, standing in orderly lines with their squires behind them. I copied what the other squires were doing.

The Rhymarchi all saluted as one. At the same time the squires straightened their backs.

Grand Malfor Dictatus, a man I recognized from newsreels, strode out onto the deck. He was a commanding presence. His jaw was chiseled and he wore his many medals with pride and confidence. His eyes were deep in color and moved across the room in a straight motion. His robes emanated a crimson aura.

Dictatus walked along the line of saluting Rhymarchi. “I want you to understand. We are not here to save people. We are here to crush heresy and destroy the enemies of the Empire. If people are to die because of our work, then so be it.” He stopped, clicking his heels together. “You know your mission. Now go forth and perform your duty for the Emperor.”

“Sir!” All the Rhymarchi saluted at once, clacking their boots together. The Rhymachi then broke formation and started donning their ablative armor. Since each space marine was over seven feet tall without armor, adding armor to them made them appear gigantic. The ablative power armor was one of the Empire’s most useful military technologies. Able to withstand almost any kind of attack, they were the primary tool given to Rhymarchi to act upon the will of the Emperor.

As a squire, it was my job to assist Isac in his equipping of the armor. However, I did not have any idea how to even begin. I ended up watching as Isac went through the steps of activation. It appeared that squires were not totally necessary when putting together a space marine’s armor.

Isac flexed the gigantic glove attached to his hand. He then picked up his laser rifle. “We’re ready to go.”

We entered into a dropship with a number of other Rhymarchi and their squires.

The marine with the highest ranking sigil addressed the crew. “There’s a heresy brewing in the depths of this planet’s main city. We’re here to crush it. Our detachment is heading to the industrial district. Be aware, they could be anywhere, armed with anything.”

I made eye contact with several other squires. Everyone appeared to be tense, almost nervous. Why were they so concerned? It was just a small insurrection that we were fighting against.

I was calm. I didn’t really know where I got it from, but I usually had the gift of a straight mind about these things.

Our dropship shuddered as it detached from the Atlas. We entered the atmosphere of the planet. At this point I didn’t even know its name. I knew the star was called Qualar, but that usually didn’t translate to individual planet names.

Isac’s eyes were far off, staring at the wall of the dropship. I folded my hands in my lap and waited for the ship to land.

We landed in the middle of an abandoned industrial sector. It was quite similar to the industrial centers on my home world, so I didn’t feel too out of my depth.

The funny thing was, no one came to greet us. We fanned out from the bay of the landing craft and saw nothing but rusted catwalks and old chimneys.

The commanding officer held up his hand. “Squads one and two, go down below.” He checked his visual map program. “Three and four, follow my mark.”

Isac was part of squad two. I followed him into a tunnel along with three other marines and their squires. The darkness swallowed us up for a split second before the marines turned on their armor lights. The place was eerily familiar. Even the smell, on a totally different planet, reminded me of home.

An echoing sound resonated through the tunnel. Isac held up his fist, causing the marines to stop moving and swing their lights across the walls.

A flashing tentacle of black ichor snapped into the light from the armor lights. A space marine—a being at least three times bulkier than an ordinary man—disappeared from sight, leaving only sparks.

“Contact!” Isac and the other two marines opened fire in the direction of the tentacle.

“It takes a lot to bring down a Rhymarchi like that.” Isac continued to fire his percussion rifle, each shot sending bright stars into the darkness.

“Look at that!” One of the other marines pointed his suit light into a side corridor.

“Oh, god.” I covered my mouth with my hand. The tunnel was a pulsating, shivering wall of flesh. A single civilian man slurped out of the fleshy orifice. His eyes were covered in tentacles and his entire body oozed slime.

Isac opened fire, blasting the figure into mist.

“Wait, wait!”

Allen: You thinking what I’m thinking?

Me: Yeah. I think they’re not trying to kill us.

I approached the flesh ball, carefully, my hands up.

“What the hell are you doing?” Isac tried to grab me, but I dodged him. I stopped right in front of the door—if that was what it was.

“I want to ask you a question.”

“Stay back!” Isac and the other marines started rushing towards me.

I held up my fist. “Wait!”

The marines stopped. My voice had pierced a certain membrane of reality, causing it to attain a sort of persuasive bent.

It had been a while.

Allen: Ooh, you’re a Psikh.

Me: Wasn’t that obvious?

Allen: Well, yeah.

Psikh in this case was the Royal Validian word for a user of psychic magic. 

The marines shook their heads, appearing to be under a sort of trance. So did the squires.

The voice behind the flesh door spoke.

“You. You are special.”

“Yeah?” I kept my hand on my side arm, as if it would do any good.

“Why did you stop your own soldiers from performing their duty?” The voice was scary in how it only mimicked human speech.

“It was for their own protection.”

“Hm. You pass the test. I will be waiting to see what you can do. Then I can harvest you.”

Allen spoke out loud using my interface device. “Fat chance of that, you stupid synth! Mythe is mine!”

The voice chuckled. “Oh, you Tolk were always so arrogant. It seems their creations are no less on point.”

“Eat it!” Allen’s voice was full of vitriol.

The fleshy wall receded into the darkness. There was silence.

I snapped my fingers and the air was cleared.

Isac coughed, holding his hand to his mouth.

One of the effects of Psikh aura was that the people who went under its spell came up with their own imaginations of what happened while they were under the spell. I wasn’t certain what they had heard or seen, but it wasn’t really a problem.

The three remaining marines, including Isac, opened fire on the tunnel, filling it with tracers. After a minute they stopped.

“We beat that damn thing.” Isac looked down at me. “You did well.”

I rubbed the back of my head. “Um, yeah.” I pointed in the direction that the captured marine had been pulled. “Let’s try and rescue him.”

Isac nodded. “We’re still not sure what we just encountered. I think it was synth. Command will have to hear about this.”

“Yeah, it was a synth. It’s hard to mistake them.”

“What does that mean?” Isac scratched his head. “This planet appears totally normal.”

“I have no idea.”

Allen: You don’t know about life stealer cults?

Me: What? What are those?

Allen: Before synth invade a world, they seed the world with dissension through the use of a brood Psikh. It’s like a religion. The poor sods who fall for the trick all try to facilitate the invasion of the main fleet.

Me: That’s horrifying.

Allen: It was strange that they negotiated with you in that manner.

Me: Yeah? Well it doesn’t matter now. We have work to do.

Isac slapped me on the back. “Come on, kid. Let’s get deeper in so we can secure our objective.”

“What is our objective, exactly?”

Isac pointed his suit light ahead. “We’ll have to see if it’s still there. The orrery.”

“What’s that?”

“An ancient treasure that could help us in our battle.”

“Why would a treasure like that be here?”

Isac started walking. “We weren’t told. Our mission is to retrieve it, not ask questions.”

“Okay.” I walked behind his hulking form. “But I still want to know.”

“So do I, kid. So do I.”