He had seen it before, Nathar being a perfect example. Not long ago Nathar would shake before battle, his hands quivering uncontrollably. Now the man didn’t seem to worry about anything.
There were times Obi feared death, but he never let it show. As commander it was his job to remain strong, unwavering even in the face of horror. Weakness caused fear, his father was right; and he promised himself he would never let his soldiers see it in his face.
The howl of a dust storm picked up in the distance. Spurious stood and made his way to the edge of the formation, surveying the valley below. Having never been outside the walls of Tisaia, he did not recognize the barren landscape, the remains of the city below littering the dead earth. Everywhere his eyes fell, destruction and death looked back at him. He could only imagine how powerful the bomb that left the massive crater must have been, obliterating everything in its path and leaving its poisonous grip on the land.
The sound of static broke though the intermittent wind as Obi’s radio blared to life.
“Commander, this is Ran, over.”
“Roger, Obi here, over.”
“We just spotted a group of men on horses riding towards Nuke Valley. Over.”
Obi rushed over to his pack to find his binoculars. From his position he couldn’t see any targets yet, just a cloud of dust intensifying in the distance. A gray sky had swallowed the sun, further clouding his vision.
“There, at the edge of the crater,” one of the new recruits said, his torn gloves pointing at the swirling brown blur of dust.
Obi removed his goggles and brought the binoculars to his naked eye. “That’s no dust storm,” he said, waving at Creo’s position.
“Creo, this is Obi. Over.”
“Roger, Creo here. Over.”
“See if you can use your scopes to see what’s creating the dust, over.”
“Sir, I have five men, maybe six on horseback. They look like raiders. And they’re heading straight for Ajax. Over.”
“Shit,” Obi said, stomping the ground and pausing to stare into the valley below. He didn’t want to risk injuring any of his men, especially Spurious, but Ajax was heading blindly into a trap. He was already at least a mile away, outside of radio range, and in another minute he would be outside the safety range of their sniper rifles. Obi knew Creo was a good shot, but shooting one moving target at this distance would be next to impossible, let alone six. He also ran the risk of drawing attention to their own location if Creo fired any rounds. If there were more raiders in the area then he would be putting his entire squad at risk.
Obi knew he needed to make a decision. He had seconds, not minutes before Ajax would be too far out of range for the protection of their rifles. A somber look crossed his face as he brought the radio back up to his mouth. He knew he couldn’t risk the squad for one man, even if it was Ajax.
“Ran, come in. Over.”
“Roger. Ran here. Over.”
“Ran, I want you two to take shelter and wait for us to reach the spillway. We’re going to find some place to hide. I do not want a confrontation, do you understand? Over.”
“Roger.”
“Creo, hold your fire. Over.”
“Sir?” Creo asked over the radio.
“I said, hold your fire. He is on his own. Over.”
A second of static rang out over the channel before Creo responded. “Understood, sir. Over.”
The soldier reluctantly took his finger off the trigger and peered into his scope, watching the raiders ride towards Ajax, the brown dust trailing behind them.
“Good luck, my friend.” Creo said under his breath.
Time: 8:30 a.m. February 25, 2071.
Location: Council of Royal Knights Administrative Offices, Capitol Building. Lunia, Tisaia
The burly mail carrier waddled past security and entered the busy atrium of the CRK administrative offices. He navigated through the crowd of staffers and Knights, gripping a message tightly in his pocket, feeling the warmth of the fresh wax seal on his exposed palm.
"Excuse me," he said, sucking in his gut and squeezing through two staffers talking quietly in the middle of the atrium. He was in a hurry and took his job very seriously, making every attempt to deliver his messages on time. The State had entrusted him with a great responsibility, for he carried messages so confidential they weren’t sent through the heavily encrypted electronic system. Messages so important, only carriers who were vetted and passed multiple background checks were even considered for employment.
Not even the beauty of the marble atrium or the ceiling painted and stenciled with perfectly symmetrical lines could distract him. He had seen them many times before and had once marveled at the dazzling chandeliers hanging from the rafters, but those times had passed. The office was only another stop on his daily route.
The carrier darted around another staffer and entered the administrative offices of Commander Augustus. Like the grand atrium, these offices were carved from marble and had magnificent chandeliers. The room was furnished with mahogany desks and a large table equipped with an AI hub.
A petite female staffer led the carrier through the maze of desks; Knights in civilian clothes were fingering their blue screens and talking on wrist radios. The office was always busy and was staffed 24 hours a day.
The long, sparsely lit hallway came into view as the carrier made his way past the last desk. He had never been back this far, but the urgency of his note allowed him to take it straight to Commander Augustus’ sentry guards.
He rounded the corner, the staffer parting ways with a small nod when the Knights came into focus. They towered above the small burly carrier.
"State your business," the Knight closest to him said.
The carrier reached nervously into his pocket for the note which he had hid deep in the bowels of his coat. Finally he retrieved it and, with a shaking hand, gave it to the Knight.
The Knight spun, his armor creaking. The carrier watched him stride down the hallway lined with statues of fallen Knights. He stood on his tip toes to see over the other guard’s armor, hoping to make out the faces of the famed statues. It was the one marvel he had heard of but had never seen.
The guard rotated his head; his glowing blue goggles peered down on the carrier, who took a step back, frowning. "Is there something else you need?" the guard asked.
"No, no. I just wanted to make sure the letter got to Commander Augustus," he said, stuttering.
"I can assure you, it will," the Knight replied, rotating his helmet once again.
The carrier frowned, frustrated by the Knights continued lack of courtesy. He headed back towards the offices just before Commander Augustus opened his office door and grabbed the note out of the Knight’s hand, quickly retreating.
With a sigh, he took a seat. He tore into the letter and removed the handwritten note, dropping the envelope on his spotless oak desk.
Commander Augustus,
Last night we dispatched a squad of Knights into Rohania to capture a SGS worker named Spurious Timur. Our contact gave us reason to believe his parents helped found the TDU.
Unfortunately, the squad was ambushed, leaving no survivors. Spurious escaped and our contact was killed in the crossfire. We believe the attack was orchestrated by the TDU and have found evidence of armor-piercing rounds used only by TDU soldiers.