Reapers: The Shadow Soldiers (10 page)

“Because this is all I have left. This is my last tactic,” she told him, seeming to be somewhat exhausted by the constant tug and pull of this operation.
 

“More lies?” Burns grunted. She shook her head.
 

“No, quite the opposite. Stand,” she ordered.

At first, Burns remained seated, not wanting to see another transparently manipulative attempt at honesty. Then he figured he might as well stand and see what she had to offer. He placed the picture in his pocket again as he rose.
 

She’d turned around and appeared to be pushing buttons on the object she was once leaning against.
 

Burns didn’t know what the buttons did, but the front door had come to a close again, making the room fully dark. Then, suddenly, the back wall of the room began to recede and a darkened window was revealed. The window showed a dark night with stars shining out in full, and one very bright one shined in the middle.
 

Burns looked over at Index, confused.

“What?” he asked, not fully understanding how this was the honesty she’d promised. He’d seen plenty of night skies.

“This is the answer to your question. This is where we are,” she answered, prompting him to take a closer look. He moved toward the window and noticed that there was no ground outside. All he could see was blackness and the bright stars.
 

“We’re in space?” he asked as he turned toward her.
 

“More than that,” she answered as she moved over to the window and pointed. “Look at that glow in the center.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, looking at the big star again.
 

“That’s the galaxy,” she told him. His eyes opened wide as his stomach stirred a little.
 

“Wait,” he stammered, “we’re outside the galaxy? How is that possible?” His reaction caused her to smirk a little, not out of malice but camaraderie. Burns was an intimidating man, and seeing him genuinely scattered was comforting to her.
 

“Only a special ship can manage to traverse this far,” she explained as she headed back for the control panel. “So, now you know where this facility is. Only a handful of others share that knowledge. Most of the facility’s crew don’t even know.” He looked over at her with squinted eyes. It was an answer to his question, but it didn’t solve anything.

“This is supposed to make me trust you?” he asked, wondering about all the other lies they had told.
 

“No,” she replied, “it’s supposed to show you how much we need you. I wouldn’t have told you all of this if I didn’t think you weren’t truly worth it.” This was true. If the crew didn’t know about the location, then it was of the utmost importance that it remained a secret. Index being cleared to divulge this information meant that he was a priority. They didn’t mess around. If you were a priority, then you were necessary. Not an expendable asset after all.
 

“What was the briefing emergency?” he asked finally. She gave another tiny smirk, relieved that he was finally fully on board.

“We’ve gotten contact from the ULC commanders on Silverset,” she began, returning to her usual look of barren seriousness. “They’ve just executed a dozen hostages and promised to do double next time. Gaining the planet wasn’t enough—their end game is a total purge of the Dominion population.” Burns listened further in. He didn’t like the sound of any of this. “Those people are trapped on a planet owned by freaks who want to kill them publicly and without remorse.” He gritted his teeth, and he began to feel the familiar burn of anger once more. Index continued. “I’ve gotten the clearance for you to deploy.” She paused. “I understand that you haven’t had time to prepare and your team is—” He stopped her there, feeling ready to fight...to stop these monsters.

“Has my team been briefed?” he asked.

“I explained the situation and sent them to the armor bay,” she informed him. Burns nodded back decisively.

“Then let’s go.”

EVOLUTION

Entering the armor bay, Burns noticed a mess of wires and cords, all linking to ports in the ceiling and to several monitors on a nearby desk. Sitting behind this desk was a snub-nosed, balding man who wore regular civilian clothes. It was the first time Burns recalled a crew member wearing civvies in the facility, other than when he had mistaken his newest member, Zenia Carmen, as a worker. He didn’t know who this balding man was, but Rhett seemed to. He stood hunched over with his hands on the desk as he spoke to the man.
 

“Please, Doctor Hans, we need those core heuristics loaded. You’re the only engineer left that can do it,” he pleaded.
 

“No,” Hans maintained as he quickly stood out of his chair and retreated a few steps from the desk. Rhett stood fully now and gave Index an exasperated look as she entered. Burns joined the others near some dusty crates. Both Brosi and Carmen seemed to have changed into the same dark gray fatigues that Rhett had been wearing the entire time. Brosi looked over at Burns.

“You okay, Col—?” he began but stopped himself. “I mean, Burns,” he corrected, remembering a few moments prior when Burns had asked him to stop calling him Colonel.
 

“I’m fine. What’s going on here?” Burns asked.
 

“Well, it seems like your theory about the armor killing all those guys wasn’t too far off,” Brosi informed him. Burns noticed that Carmen wasn’t even remotely interested in answering his questions. In fact, she wasn’t even standing. She sat on one of the dusty crates and seemed to brood. Indeed, Burns still got an interesting impression of her. Despite seeming friendly enough, he could tell that her soul was—aphotic. Brosi on the other hand was still as helpful as ever.

The man continued speaking. “At first we thought it was only Rhett who was apprehensive about the armor. This Doctor Hans guy though? He seems to be on a one-man warpath against the project.” Burns looked back up at the snub-nosed man and wondered what made the doctor so vehemently opposed. Most of the others scientists here were totally emotionless and worked solely on logic; they wouldn’t care if the project ended in loss of life.
 

Rhett’s pleading continued, this time with Index joining in. “Doctor Hans, we talked about this,” she appealed to him. He shook his head and stayed turned away in the corner.
 

“I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t,” he maintained. “Too many people died last time, and I promised never to let that happen again.” Rhett shook his head and made his way over to Hans.

“I understand. I understand more than I want to. What happened to all of them was horrible. I didn’t want to see this project dug up again either, yet I am going through with it. More people will die if we don’t. That’s not a risk we can take, Hans,” Rhett pleaded.
 

The doctor’s shoulders seemed to loosen a bit as he looked toward Rhett.
 

“You were always the most conscientious, Marc,” he said, turning around slightly. “If I do this though, I’m not going to load the advanced algorithms. Only the core stuff—the rest will stay hidden in the background where it’s safe,” he told him.
 

“That’s all we ask,” Rhett ensured.

Feeling comfortable again, Hans returned to his seat. He looked around the room carefully and then moaned a little.
 

“I have an awfully bad feeling about this, Marc,” he grumbled. Index leaned down next to him.

“Remember the other part of our discussion?” she let on. Hans shook his head silently. “Right,” she continued. “So, do this for us and we’ll see about getting you off this facility.” The man looked back at Rhett.

“What about Marc? Does he get to leave too?” he asked. Index looked somberly up at Rhett.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “he gets to leave too.” Burns figured it was a lie, but the doctor believed it. Hans motioned back and then turned to the monitors. Taking a deep breath, he began typing away, loading in all of the core functions of the armor. Meanwhile, Index had picked up a spare set of dark gray fatigues off a table nearby and walked over to Burns.
 

“Put these on,” she told him, handing them over to him. He grabbed them and then looked at them. This was it. He took a deep breath and began to change.
 

Removing his button-up shirt, he noticed his teammates seemed to hesitantly leer at the large scar down his chest. Perhaps for the first time, they were realizing that he’d done this sort of thing before. He’d forgotten it himself, but he was a warrior through and through.
 

Covering up the injury, he zipped the fatigues to his neckline. He then replaced his olive pants and spare boots with the dark gray ones handed to him.
 

Burns then got a notification from Doctor Hans that the armor was prepped and ready. He nodded back and motioned for his team to proceed to the armor gantry.
 

Stepping up to the platform from its backside, he placed his boots into firm straps atop the platform. Grabbing the gauntlet handles, he looked to his right and saw Brosi. The man exhaled loudly, seeming nervous. He then saw Burns looking at him and tried to hide his apprehension. Burns gave him a reassuring nod. He wasn’t sure if they were going to survive this, but worrying about it wouldn’t help.
 

Index then motioned to Doctor Hans, and he proceeded to push more buttons on his keyboard. Suddenly, the framework began to move as several cranes and drills rotated around the platform.

First, black gloves were strapped on above the sleeves of the fatigues. They seemed to be a non-metal material, but had technology built into them.
 

Next, the gantry began to place and drill in the plates of armor around the boots and up to the knees. The machine had also begun to place the small bicep plates.

The machine went to the chest piece after that. It first scanned, then positioned the front, then scanned and positioned the back, before drilling both into place.
 

Burns then let go of the gauntlet handles as they pulled away. He moved around in place. The armor had added a little weight but it was still extremely maneuverable.

The gantry began to crank and shift once more as it grabbed the helmet and moved it down. He kept his head as still as possible as the machine slid the helmet over his head and into place. It hissed a little as it linked with the ducts atop the fatigues and pressure sealed.

Suddenly, the simulated visor display program began to hover above the red view port. At first, it was an ensemble of various scrambled lines. Then, as it finished loading, the different interfaces began to appear.
 

This build only included a crude map of Silverset in the bottom right corner, communication connectivity in the bottom left corner, and a series of lines at the top that told Burns if someone was behind him. Other functions seemed to be hidden away for the moment or were not loaded at all.

Stepping off the platform, Burns made his way to the center of the room. The others did the same and soon they were all standing together, suited up and ready. Index looked amazed. The armor made them seem unstoppable. The scowling red visor made them seem nightmarish. Indeed, the United Liberty Collective had no idea who was coming for them.
 

As Index gathered herself, she led the newly armored team out of the armory and down to the hanger.
 

Despite the alien designs of many of the craft kept in the hanger, Burns felt like his team was the most unfamiliar thing there. Every single white-suited worker seemed to glare at them as they passed.
 

They were an icon—a symbol of the Dominion. He had to admit, this was a big change. A few days ago, he couldn’t get anyone to look at him, much less respect him. Now, it was the exact opposite. He just hoped he was the man for the job. The others may have trusted him, but he was still apprehensive.

Joining Index on their bulky subspace capable transport, Burns sat and awaited deployment. For better or worse, they were about to find out if the Colonel was more than just a figment of Control’s imagination.
 

FRACTURED PAST: PART II

Fort Hermara, Mardius, 20 years and 2 standard months prior

The situation on Mardius was bad. The Dominion and the Mardian loyalists had dealt decisive blows against the Resistance and so the bushwhackers were lashing out in a vain, final offensive. Every day hundreds of Dominion soldiers were cut down. The medical tents at Fort Hermara had become a bustling hive of activity. It got so bad that they eventually ran out of beds and began laying men on the ground.
 

This all meant that there was little room in the tent for Burns, who’d been recovering at a steady pace. Since Evelyn had been a compliant prisoner, the guards were okay with letting the two of them wander to a quieter area of the base and get some fresh air.
 

This freedom did wonders for Burns’ recovery. He was glad to get away from the sickening smells of death inside the tent. At this point, nature was a better remedy than any bandage Evelyn could put on.
 

Due to the severity of the Resistance’s attacks, the two were ordered to stay inside the confines of the Fort.
 

Normally, this would have felt like a prison sentence, but Burns quickly found that it didn’t bother him. He could have been in the middle of a battlefield, and he’d enjoy it if Evelyn were there. She had a certain allure. It wasn’t just the graceful flow of her soft face; it was also something internal. Her morality. She was very different then the rest of the Dominion. The others only cared about money or power. Evelyn seemed to be the only person that genuinely cared about
people
.
 

He looked over at her as her fiery-red hair was blown back by a gust of wind. He then noticed that she seemed hesitant to eat the packaged food they had been provided. With a smirk, Burns grabbed a few packets of sauce and dropped them near her crossed legs. She glanced at the packets of sauce and then looked up at him with a smile.