Will elexion stones
Once, long ago, there was a lake, and as I threw flat stones, and watching them skip across the flat water, I wondered whether I was the idle stone on the shore, or the one in motion, skipping across an expanse of glass-like water.
Galactic Year (GY): 6652 Alliance Year (AY): 252 Earth Year (EY): 2052
For years, I had traveled the universe of universes, traversing multiple infinities, searching for my alternate selves, the other wills, my destined brothers-in-arms, and selecting the singularly most powerful of them to use the weapons of the ancients, eleven swords crafted lovingly out of metalite, an indestructible metal that was exceedingly rare. At long last, I had assembled a team of three, all of different families, power, and personality, but with the same core motive, a core motive that drove us, connected us, in ways words cannot describe. Honor.
My team and I had fought our way through hordes of enemies, easily conquered impossible things, and bridged unimaginable ravines of cold, black space. This trip was designed to be no different, a test for the connections that bound us as a team. This is what I told them, and it was a reason. The true reason, though, was that our team still counted one less than it should. I could have chosen any of the other wills to weild balance, the last of the ancient weapons deigned to be owned by a will, but I knew the true owner had yet to materialize, so I kept it with me, fighting with it in my left hand in the place of my analite katana, arbiter.
The destined owner was exceedingly difficult to find. We searched for years with no luck, finding more wills, but none were the destined one, so we kept looking. Then, when we reached universe fifty, I felt that he was in this universe, at last. I followed the subtle arrows my empathic abilities gave me, directing myself, my team, and my ship across a sea of stars to an earth that was very different from my home.
The clouds were brown, and certain places glowed on the night side, with a sickening radioactive green color. This earth was so far damaged that it was possible it would have to be evacuated after the alliance had established a presence here, if there was even anyone to evacuate on the surface of this tortured, sad version of earth.
I opened a wormhole out into space, away from this forlorn and desolate earth. I wanted to find out what had happened to damage the earth this far, how it had happened, and the only way to achieve that was to intercept radio transmissions.
Radio signals travel a little slower than the speed of light, not fading away, as one could suppose, but simply radiating out from their source. It was how the alliance and the empire had found earth in the first place, because it put out so much electromagnetic energy that It stood out brighter than a star on even the most basic of ship sensors. It was an old historian's trick. Why try to piece together a picture of the past from bits and pieces, when you could watch the news from 500 years ago? The process was that a ship, traveling faster than the speed of light, or through a wormhole, would outrace the signals, and pull in front of them, which would allow the ship to intercept and see the signals.
The ship's AI ran calculations, quickly plotting a course that would put us in the path of radio signals from approximately 50 years ago. The jump was made instantly, and as soon as we arrived, I put out the com antennae.
Almost immediately, we received broadcasts from earth 40 years in the past. They were all concerned with mundane news, until an entry dated December 21, 2012. The news reel depicted a huge ship landing in the middle of a field, slowly spinning as it landed. Then, the camera angle changed, and there, standing out plainly on the gray hull and flashing in the sunlight, was the symbol of the empire.
We watched in horror as the human race gradually fell to the empire, cities burning, armies destroyed, and almost no hope for what remained. One final broadcast, dated one year afterwards, showed a dishelved man in ripped clothes and holding an MP5. Just as I had noticed these details, the camera shook. A small cloud of gray dust rained down from the ceiling, and the man gave a worried glance upward, and then addressed the camera.
"To all the humans free of the oppression of the empire. The last independent nation is falling to the empire's weapons, and their ships have discovered our home base, and are even now bombing it. It is only a matter of minutes until they break through. This cannot be, will not be, the final hours of the resistance. I, the leader of the resistance, Thomas McDougal, send out this plea. Do not let the dream of a free earth die with us. Keep the resistance alive, no matter what." Suddenly, there was a resounding BOOM, and the screen flickered with static. A huge block of concrete came down, and the camera fell over, revealing a silver tube with a window down one side for just a second, then the camera was crushed by the rubble. I rewound the video, and then paused at the moment it showed the tube. There, slightly obscured by the dust and the rubble, was the face of another will. Without a word, my hands danced across the control panel, charting a course back to earth
I was loathed to return to this diseased, tortured version of earth, but another will waited for me, and I didn't have a choice. The Orion entered the atmosphere gently, all shields up, just in case. In 10 minutes, we were landed on the surface.
Instantly, will Grey activated the sensor panel, which lit up, becoming a fully interactive 3D holographic. Grey's hands danced across the light blue keyboard suspended in midair. "External sensors report low levels of radiation, only marginally above background. The atmosphere is still breathable by human standards, but it's laced with small amounts of elements, the same ones produced during the detonation of antimatter weapons. The empire was here, with pretty big guns, too, and probably still is." He turned to face me. "It's your call. What do we do?"
"we move out. What do the external sensors say about life forms and energy readings?"
Quickly, he tapped a query into the holographic keyboard. The computer instantly answered. "There's a ship's power plant around 250 miles away, and what seems to be a city around 330 miles away. No humanoid life forms closer than the ship power plant, as far as the onboard sensors can detect, but the elements in the air might be interfering with our sensors. We are approximately 45 feet from the origin of the signals."
We had tracked the signal to approximately here, and I had faith in the equipment under my command, but I still breathed a sigh of relief. 45 feet was pretty close for tracking a 40 year old signal across the stars. "Alright, people, suit up, arm yourselves and move out." I pressed a yellow and black striped button labeled with warning signs, and the wall next to it slid back, revealing an armory. All of my team of wills, grey, the assassin, smith, the soldier, and Lang, the most powerful of my team, carried their ancient swords with them at all times. The blades, made of indestructible metalite, were honed to a perfect edge exactly 20 atoms thick, and were permanently sharp. The sheaths had to be made of diamond to prevent the blades from slicing through them. Gingerly, I removed the final ancient sword, Balance, from its cradle, the diamond sheath and the hilt shining brilliantly in the ambient light inside the ship. Smoothly, I slid it onto my belt, and then began collecting weapons.
Grey chose only a pair of suppressed 50 caliber pistol, something made only for immortals. Smith picked out an M79 grenade launcher, slinging a bandolier of 40mm grenades across his chest, and a fully automatic .45 pistol, along with an AK47. Lang picked up a SAW, slipping it into its holster and slinging the ungainly weapon across his back, and a long M24 rifle. I selected 4 pistols, a PPM9 9mm, M1911, and 2 Wings .45 caliber pistols, along with a custom XM29 assault rifle and a berretta 50 caliber. Finally, I went to retrieve my last weapon. I keyed a 15 digit code into a keypad set into the smooth, gray wall, causing a portion of it to slide back and reveal it.
It was crimson, the backpack power cell adorned with blood red, a pattern that followed the power cables to the dual firing apparatus, devices that looked like miniature mini guns. I slung the 150 pound power cell over my shoulder like a regular cloth pack, then clipped the firing barrels of this fierce looking weapon to my arms, and flipped a switch. The whole arrangement hummed to life, the crimson glinting faintly in the light. The PHEONIX laser cannon was prepped, powered and ready to fire. It was one of the few earthian developed laser weapons, and remained one of the most powerful and most reliable, firing a crimson red beam instead of a traditional silver one.
I checked my team, and then gave the order. "Move out." Smith whooped, relishing the coming possible combat, but Lang adopted a dark expression; his long dirty-blonde hair obscuring his eyes, while grey remained emotionless, as always.
We moved quickly, covering ground at a rate the military could only dream of, covering the 45 foot gap in just seconds, keeping watch for hostiles. Grey located a hole, a gateway into the ground. I glanced back at the Orion, and then took point, my XM29's barrel held in front of me. Stairs led down to a short but wide hallway, with a receptionist's desk in the center. The dark room held a sense of decayed, neglected elegance, made of cracked white marble, with stains that hinted at the great works of art that had once hung there, now so much powder on the floor, joining the layers of dust that had accumulated over the many years this facility had been abandoned. The receptionist desk held more dust piles, once papers and documents. I glanced at it, then moved on. At the end of the hallway was an elevator, a glass cylinder suspended in the shaft by only the old emergency brakes. Lang pried the glass doors open, and we walked in, the emergency brakes creaking ominously. Grey put his hand to the control panel, releasing a charge of electricity, careful not to overload the old processors as he flooded the long-dead system with energy, quickly targeting and isolating the control protocols and causing the elevator to lurch briefly as the emergency brakes released. The interior lights and the lights in this shaft came on, some flickering before bursting into a shower of glass and sparks, falling toward the distant bottom. The elevator jerked again, slowly beginning to descend, then faster, as grey increased the input of energy. "careful." I said, and he made a brief nod, a slight frown born of intense concentration on his face, one of the few expressions he ever made.
We quickly arrived at the basement floor, a few levels below the graceful reception area. This place, however, looked completely different, fitted out for military use. Old weapon racks stood everywhere, crumbling with age, but still managing to protect their precious charges of weapons and ammo. Computer banks, big ones, some crushed by the rubble, were systematically placed every few hallways, all dead, their processing banks and motherboards clogged with dust. I went up to one and spoke "static clean." My soul flame flickered, and the dust was cleaned off the computer, both inside and out, by a tiny charge of static electricity, leaving it shining dully in the dim light of the flashlights on our various weapons. Grey put his hand on the side of the computer, charging it with a small amount of electrical energy before plugging in a paper thin tablet computer and beginning the recovery of files. I watched him for a moment, and then sent off Smith and Lang in opposite directions for recon, leaving a final hallway for Grey and myself. I glanced back at him, and he showed me the screen of the tablet, which read 67% downloaded.
The download took only a minute, then Grey handed the tablet to me, the files he had downloaded shown on the screen. I slipped the tablet into a padded pocket in my pants, then continued on down the hallway. Suddenly, Grey patted my shoulder once, and then cocked his head when I turned around. I nodded, and lifted my eyebrow question ally, and he responded by indicating a wall panel with a gentle motion of his hand.
quickly and easily, I tore out the wall panel, revealing a space behind it, lit with a dim, blue light. I tracked it to its source, a tiny crack around the edge of a panel. I ripped off this second panel, too, then took in the room behind it in a glance.
The room was half buried under piles of rubble. The bones of a human skeleton, bleached white and simply lying in plain sight, stood out, surrounded by grey-white dust and concrete. The flattened remains of a camera lay nearby, plastic, metal and glass scattered across the floor, dully reflecting the light through the coating of dust they, too, had gathered. I followed the light, and there was what I was looking for.
The previously clear glass of the stasis tube was now coated in a thin layer of ice and dust. I wiped it off, and caught my first real look at the new will. His face remained untouched and smooth, showing no sign of emotion. Occasionally, the eyes twitched under the eyelids, giving the feeling that he was sleeping, but I knew that stasis seemed instant to the occupant, a dreamless sleep that passed years in a single instant. I stepped back, satisfied. This is who we were looking for. I walked around the tube, examining it from all angles. It was obviously of imperial design, the whole thing not as efficient or smooth as any alliance design. I tapped a swift command into the control panel, and the tube hissed as liquid nitrogen, its cooling agent, was released into the surrounding atmosphere, creating a fog that obscured and dulled everything, stirring up dust as well. I walked around to the front, my hands behind my lower back.
The other will appeared out of the gloom and fog. He was dressed in a white hoodie and long, white pants, with white sneakers. He took the situation in in a moment, me standing before him, grey looking appraisingly at him over my shoulder, and then lashed out with his right foot. I deflected the kick easily with a wave of my hand. He lashed out with his fist then, and I dodged, moving at a blur. Before he could react to my sudden change of position, the tip of my sword, Honor, was at his throat. More carefully, I examined him, noticing now his balanced way of moving, graceful and smooth, the stance of a fighter. I lowered the sharp tip of my blade.
"I don't want to fight." I said, sheathing my sword. "I just want to talk. I'm not a threat to you. In fact, I may be a friend."
"are you part of the resistance?" he said, warily.
"No, not necessarily, but I have been fighting the empire longer than you. In fact, that was me from age 15 to 19, fighting off the empire and, finally, defeating it."
He stared at me, shock and disbelief mixing on his face and in his mind. "That's impossible!" he said, his eyebrows coming together. "You don't look any older then I am, and besides, we lost. The resistance lost. That's why I'm down here in the first place. I was one of their best strategists."
"You must have been the best there is to have gotten such a title."
"I was, but the leader was my dad."
My expression changed instantly, going from slightly amused to grim. I stepped aside, revealing the bones of the leader of the resistance, a few of them crumbled to ash, the rest weathered and looking their age. At first he looked, not understanding, his eyes blank, then suddenly a look of shock, then grief, followed by a burning rage that I knew well, stole across the back of his eyes. His face mirrored mine, grim and unrevealing.
"Your father is dead. He died in the assault on the compound forty years ago, crushed by a slab of concrete. His death was most likely instant, he probably never felt a thing, and the last thing he saw was you, safe." I put my hand on his shoulder. "For the sake of the resistance and the fate of this earth, you have to take on his mantle. If you don't, then this version of earth, and you, are doomed, and I cannot help you." He looked up at me, conviction and rage plain in his eyes. He would do it, I knew, and that told me he was a true will.
"I'll do it." He said.
I flashed him a small smile. Suddenly, the entire place shook, just as it had 40 years ago. I glanced up at the already unstable roof of the room as the small place filled with a cloud of disturbed dust. "It appears as if the empire has arrived." I looked at the new will. "Get yourself ready."
Seconds later, having scaled the elevator shaft, I examined the situation. 4 imperial fighters were strafing the ground around the Orion and us with laser fire. The rest of my team appeared besides me.
"Smith, fight your way to the Orion. Defend it." He whooped and drew his gigantic blade, Night. "Lang and grey, with me. We're going to hold this position." I drew Honor and my XM29. Grey drew his sword, Time, and one of his pistols, and Lang drew his sword, Power, and the SAW, hefting the heavy machine gun in his left hand. Ships began landing and dropping off troops, and the real fun began.
Grey would appear out of the clouds of dirt and dust that had sprung up, assassinating random soldiers, then lang and I would massacre the confused remains. Honor expressed its glee at once again serving the purpose it had been made for as I easily cut and slashed through armor, sinew and bone. We destroyed all comers with our weapons, and when we finally ran out of ammo for our guns, my team conjured blades forged out of soul flame. My katana, arbiter, moved in tandem with honor. Suddenly, the imperial lines pulled back. Wary of a trick or a trap, the three of us drew back, also.
Breaking the moment of silence, a single boot stepped into the circle the soldiers had formed around the entrance, and an imperial officer stepped into view. He held a blade in his hands, and to my slight surprise, I realized that it was made of the rare metal Terralite, the second form of metalite, what my katana was made of. Although less strong, it could fight almost on par with one of the ancient blades. Lang and grey stepped forward, but I glanced at them and they shrank back. I sheathed arbiter, then held honor with two hands.
Neither of us moved for several seconds. I watched him carefully, looking for the twitch of a muscle or a slight shift in his stance to warn me of an impending attack. Subtly, his foot moved a half an inch, just enough to warn me. Our swords met with a loud CLANG! And he rebounded off, sliding to a stop around 10 feet away.
The metal of my sword vibrated slightly from the clash, sending out a low humming. Quickly, I said "vibration resonance." I stuck out my left middle and index fingers, engulfed in soul flame, then ran them along Honor's flat. The vibration increased in pitch and tempo, and the air itself rippled around the blade. I had taken the catalyst energy that the clash had stored in my blade, then combined it with soul energy and amplified it. Explosive force lay behind the honest enough vibrations, but I held it back, biding my time.
Seeing that I was not going to reengage, my opponent stabbed with his blade. I parried, then he launched into a series of attacks, attempting to circumvent my defenses. Easily enough, I held him off, but I didn't try to strike back. Every time his blade made contact with mine, more energy was stored In Honor, and the vibrations increased.
I decided I had had enough. Suddenly, I knocked him away, then swung once. He raised his blade to block, and as our swords made contact, I released the energy.
The physical energy I had collected escaped in a violent, but directional, explosion, blowing my enemy back into his troops. He struck the ground twice before slamming a few inches into the earth 50 feet away. He shuddered, then went limp, a small trickle of blood flowing onto the dirt.
I spun my sword in my hand, then caught the grip and pointed it toward the ground. Soul flame licked down the edges, making the blade into a small pillar of flame.
The soldiers converged on their fallen officer, then charged again. This time, though, I was a little annoyed. I sheathed Honor, thrust my hands behind me and muttered "energy charge."
Soul energy focused around my hands, forming small, concentrated balls of energy that hung in the air for a moment before collecting in the palm of one of my hands. The energy pulsed, shimmering and twisting, reflecting things like turquoise water. I brought my hands to my sides, casually examining the faintly luminescent energy. Veins of it flowed out of the sleeves of my armored trench coat, draining into the collection and make the already formidable amount of energy even bigger. Strings of it also flowed from the air and the earth, which meant that this version of earth was not yet dead. Soul energy still flowed beneath the surface, the life force of the planet. I smiled briefly, and then thrust both of my hands out in front of me, screaming "flame cannon!"
All the energy I had collected bubbled over and exploded outward in a huge beam of energy that vaporized all before it. The sheer power of it was enough to level cities. If I had been given a few hours, it would have been enough to rip the planet to shreds. As it was, though, it was adequate for my use. Suddenly, the energy flared, plateaued, and then reduced down to nothing. A few bits of stray energy, freed just as the attack was set off, floated in the air, hesitant, before sinking back into the earth or evaporated into the air.
I was breathing a little heavier than I had been before, as my body hurriedly turned biological energy into soul energy to refill the depleted stocks. After a moment, I drew up and surveyed the damage I had done.
A blackened strip of land extended a few football fields away. Anything in its immediate path, along with a few soldiers outside of it, had been vaporized, and the remainder was making a hasty retreat to their ships. One was dragging their commander.
I did the only thing I could; I threw honor. The sword cut through the air easily, and landed right in the middle of the soldier's chest, sliding through him with a small 'shhhk'. The soldier let his commander fall. His hand went up to the sword embedded in his chest, and then he collapsed. I walked over to him and pulled my blade out, wiping it on his armor before sheathing it at my side. Then, I knelt besides my enemy and touched his armor, making a connection with it's internal electronic systems, then examining and learning everything I could about the armor. I realized, with a small smile, that this was the same model of imperial officer armor used during the empire wars more than 40 year before. Quickly, I stood up and addressed Grey.
"Grey, take this officer to the Orion and put him in the statis pod. When he is healed enough, take him out, and then you and Smith question him. Don't be too rough, though, I want him conscious when I get there." Grey saluted me, and then ran off towards the Orion. I watched him run for a second, then turned to Lang. "search the bodies for wounded but still alive soldiers, do what you can for them then deliver them to the Orion. After you finish, come back to the compound." He nodded, then moved off, eyes scanning the field of corpses for any sign of life. I watched him for a second as well, then moved towards the compound entrance.
As I entered, I noticed a distinct difference in the atmosphere. A slight humming saturated the air, and some of the dust was gone. The air was cleaner. I approached the elevator and realized that it was active. I pressed the button and, after a second, the doors quietly slid open, revealing the elevator interior, dimly lit by the single working fluorescent. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the bottom floor. The doors slid shut, and then the elevator began moving. The ride was much smoother and faster than the first ride down because the systems were now active on their own. A result of MacDougal tinkering around in the lower levels and power systems, I supposed.
The elevator arrived at its destination, and the doors slid open a second time. I stepped out nto the corridor and looked to my left. MacDougal stood there, a tool belt around his waist and his sleeves rolled up, elbow deep into some sort of electrical system. Suddenly, he yanked. A small explosion of sparks erupted from the mess of wires, and the internal lights flickered, and then came on. He glanced up and smiled, then pulled out his hands. He held a wire cutter and screwdriver in his hands, and he tucked them back into their places in the belt before picking up a panel lying on the floor and a bolt gun and bolting the panel back in place. Then he turned to me. "that does it for the lighting systems. Next I need to fix the hanger door controls so you can park your ship in the hanger." He hesitated for a second, frowning. "you are going to stay, aren't you?"
"of course. We won't leave until we've freed this version of earth. don't worry." I said, with utter conviction.
After much thought and many stones skipped across the mirror surface of the water, watching the ripples fade away into the crystal water, I had a realization. I was neither the stone on the shore nor the stone skipping across the water. Instead, I was the skipper, the person who wanders along, then picks up a flat stone that he finds and sends it skipping across the water. I am neither the inactive or the active, but the activator, the initiator. I caused things to happen. And, happy with this conclusion, I returned home happier and with a better understanding.