The Black

Kirese settled uneasily into the shooting bay. She and Elise had arrived half an hour earlier, and they had taken time unpacking their gear before Vincent arrived. To her surprise, Vin had reserved the holographic bays for the morning. "Alright," He murmured, looking over their gear, "Lets get started."

Kirese shifted uncomfortably, "Ok? You still haven't told us what's going on." Glancing at the still-empty range. Their previous range outings had been at the other end of the complex. It was a simpler setup, a self-healing flat target with electronic shot recording. As the three of them were on the command track, the Holographic systems were largely used by those headed into more active combat roles.

Vincent leaned against the lane's separating walls, keeping his voice calm and gentle "Kirese, I know what you've told me; about your father. I can't change that, no one can." He turned and reached for the controls, "I don't know if this will work, but I hope you can use this to see the true enemy. Take your positions." Both of them turned towards the range. Vincent activated the controls a moment later…

Kirese froze. In front of her, not 5 meters away, was her torturer. She didn't know how or why, and her mind blanked on her surroundings. It was him, alright; right down to the arrogant, sinister sneer, and Kirese just waited… waiting for that monster to reach for the weapon on his belt. It never did. It just stood there, glaring at him. A shot rang out to Kirese's left, and she was snapped back to reality as her roommate shot her own holographic Vorrath opponent. "Are you ok?" Vincent asked carefully from behind the firing line. Kirese took a long shaking breath before settling herself back into the familiar two-handed shooting stance. Moments later, her Delmar made pistol barked twice and Kirese watched two hit markers appear in her target's chest before it vanished, only to be replaced by two.

"Good," Vincent spoke from behind her, "Both of you, good. This program will gradually give you harder targets, easing you into the idea of shooting a moving threat. Take your time, I can pause the program if you need." Vin studied the two of them. Elise had been startled by the holographic target, but the diminutive Parisian recovered quickly and was able to make her hits on this new, more lifelike target. Kirese had predictably frozen, and Vincent was just about to step in when she finally acted, taking her own shots at the hologram. Her first shot was shaky, but still connected. Her second came quickly, and with more certainty, before she set her weapon down and turned to face him.

"How?" She grated, "How did you find… HIM!"

Vincent took a step forward into her shooting bay, making sure to keep his voice calm "I didn't, That is a default rendering of one of their officer class." He rekeyed the individual bay to bring up the hologram, only close "look again, and see through your memories."

Kirese turned slowly, forcing down the desire to cower in front of the image, but Vincent was right. The hologram looked like her torturer, but the scars were missing and his face wasn't quite the right shape. "Ok," She exhaled heavily, clearly processing "… ok." She murmured again, her voice still a little shaky, "Reset the program, and let me reload."

Vincent nodded and stepped back to the master controls. This time, Kirese's response was quicker, and he let the program run. The Program was a progressively escalating one. Single targets become two, then three, then four. Next came the movement exercise. Single targets appeared and charged the shooting position from various distances and paths. Vincent smiled internally as both Kirese and Elise improved visibly between each evolution. He wasn't totally sure this was going to work with Kirese. Her trauma was deep, but their final exams for Combatives were approaching quickly. If this was going to work… It needed to work now.

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The all too familiar chime rang, interrupting Silu from his graduation speech writing. In truth, he was thankful for the distraction, and half a dozen different versions of his poor eloquence lay strewn on several data pads across his desk. "Enter!" He called, standing quickly as Admiral Grarzia entered his office. "Mac! Welcome!" The grizzled Delmar limped around his chair to shake hands with his nephew-in-law.

The blue eyed admiral smiled broadly, accepting the human gesture before taking the offered guest chair. Silo returned to his desk, but only just long enough to retrieve a bottle of Human Rye Whisky and a pair of glasses. A smirk spread across his face at Mac's surprise, taking the second guest chair next to his Nephew-in-law. Mac accepted the glass of amber liquid. "Now this is a surprise. It's good to see you. How has planet side life been treating you."

Silu poured himself a glass for himself, taking care to give himself a single finger instead of the two he poured for the Human admiral, "Truthfully?" He asked, settling in the chair next to Mac, "Far more pleasantly than I care to admit. I almost hate to admit just how much The Void is a young man's game. I stayed in it far too long." The aging Delmar took a sip from his glass, "I've found preparing the next generation to be far more fulfilling than I anticipated."

"That's good to hear." Mac's voice sobered for a moment before raising his glass, "To the next generation."

Silu clinked his glass to Mac's before both took a sip, but Mac's manner slowly settled into a heavy aura inside the room. The Older Man leaned in, "Mac, son… What is it? I suspect this was not strictly a social call."

Mac leaned back slowly, yet heavily, into his chair; but the admiral did not immediately answer. Instead, he slowly swirled his whiskey about in his glass for several seconds before finally speaking, "It's complicated, but yes, I have come on business. And It's a gamble with but marginal odds." Mac leaned in, "I need to send a crew into Kri' space, and I don't know what I'm sending them into."

Silu sucked in a surprised breath, the heaviness of the Human admirals resolve falling on his shoulders as he took a sip from his own glass, "The Kri'… They are a dangerous species, Mac. They are also almost on the far side of the former Unity's space. They've largely kept to themselves, often hostile to anyone entering their space. What could possibly make you interested in them?"

"Galveston," Mac answered, taking another pull from his glass, "It appears she is no longer missing. She was aided by a Kri battle group, one sent on expedition upon the successful defense of their homeworld. The Vorath apparently made the mistake of attempting an invasion."

A low whistle escaped Silu's lips, "The Kri' incident was after their original defeat. They couldn't have known what they faced, but still… If the Kri' managed to overpower Galveston…."

Mac chuckled, "They didn't. Admiral Karmarin chose to go with them. He and Bill snuck a courier out before they departed. By now, Galveston is in orbit over their planet." Mac sighed heavily, "But that is all I know. We've not received a single transmission from Galveston since."

"Hmm," Silu nodded, "And for good reason. That distance would make even a Human tight beam too much at risk of intercept, but is it wise to send an untested crew that far afield on a mystery?"

"That's the rub," Mac groaned, "we are so short of ships. We can hold the line, and my Privateer squadron can harass and disrupt, but this is not a patrol mission. I need a crew with knowledge of that part of the galaxy. Many of the refugees who want to fight ended up in the Program, and the overwhelming majority of Humans in the Program are already veterans of our civil war. I'm not asking for fresh meat, but I can't spare more than one of my currently operational crews on this, and they could not stay. Finding a ship for this is another entirely different proposition." Mac drained his glass, waving off a top off and letting his words settle between them.

Silu crossed his arms in contemplation for a moment before heaving himself from his chair and limping round to his desk chair, "I believe I see your meaning. A crew with previous experience, just not here; and a guide. Give me a moment." The grizzled veteran shipmaster tapped deftly at his console for a few minutes, finishing the last of his whiskey as he did so. "Hmm, I believe I may have a solution to both of your problems." Mac raised an eyebrow as Silu swivelled the screen around to face the admiral.

Mac leaned in, taking a look at the highlighted names with one in particular standing out. "I see. Interesting. Can you forward these to me for consideration?"

Silu tapped quickly, "Done," He stated firmly before smiling warmly at the Husband of his favorite niece, "Now that the serious business is out of the way, how are my grand-niece and Nephews?"

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This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"TO THE PROGRAM!" The salute came from the bar somewhere, "GOOD FUCKIN' RIDDENCE!!" called a reply, illiciting a chorus of raucous laughter. Vincent, Elise, Xanith, and Kirese were but a few of the hoard of Graduates that had flooded what had become the favorite watering hybrid watering hole eat out of the Program Students. The roaring laughter of the celebrating graduates was quickly followed by the downing of drink. The Delmar participants had long gotten used to their Human comrades' more… rousing… mannerisms when booze flowed, and masks fell. Even Xanith seemed less tightly wound than even a few weeks ago, and he only barely flinched at the display of teeth and boisterous shouts.

The four had become their own small friend group, and Vincent was the last to reach their customary table. "How about a round?" He called, holding out four more pints of Delmar ale to the group, raising an eyebrow as Xanith downed his own drink before nodding,

"I'll take one." Elise smiled, her own pint already dry. Vin took his time setting everything down, handing out the liquid loot to the table. Kirese drained the meager leftovers of her own drink before taking the freshly filled offering.

Kirese took a long pull, "Feeling generous, are we?" she joked, sliding her chair over to give the Human room to get into his own. The room was much louder and more crowded than they were even comfortable with.

Vincent laughed before taking a pull from his own tankard, "A congratulations, and possibly a minor apology for the shock therapy. I'll be honest. I was not entirely sure it would work." His words sobered her for a moment before he smiled broadly. "I'm glad I was wrong. So, Congratulations." He saluted, and the rest took a drink.

"When do you think we will get our… assignments?" Xanith asked, carefully sipping on his own ale, which was not uncommon for him. The Younger Delmar Man tended to only sip when given Alcohol, always careful when around it. "I'm eager to prove myself further."

The group laughed and Kerise looked to Xanith, "Don't be so quick to get into trouble, It's not all it's cracked up to be."

Xanith gave her a strange look, eliciting a giggle from Elise, "Oh, don't worry Xan, I'm sure we will get our orders soon." The diminutive Parisian girl's warm smile seemed to unwind Xanith a bit further, "I just hope we get on the same boat." She finished.

"Hmm," Vincent nodded, reaching for his tankard just before noticing a Delmar man in a perfectly pressed officers uniform walk up to their table.

"Kirese Balvet'te?" Kirese raised her hand, and was promptly handed a folder by the Naval Officer, "And… Lieutenant Vincent Burgoyne?" Instantly, the volume inside the watering hole fell to a hush, and Vincent fought against the urge to slouch against the gazes turned upon him, some of them… his friends.

"Aye, Sir." He responded, receiving his envelope identical to Kirese'. "May I ask what this is about, Sir?"

"Orders, You are to report to Port Royal within 72 hours, Admiral Grarzia's Instructions. Any further details are inside your packet." The Delmar Officer answered.

Vincent stood, saluting the man before catching the stunned face of Miran, and the equally surprised face of both Xanith and Kirese. "Well, shit." He grumbled, mustering a weary smile, "Common, let's blow this joint."

"To the beach!!" Elise announced. Vincent shrugged, paying for their tab before the group departed the restaurant.

The four of them stepped out onto the sidewalk bordering the shore front beaches. Elise was laughing gleefully, and a bit drunkenly, dragging Xanith along towards the water's edge, while Vincent trudged along at a statelier pace. The orders in his envelope felt heavy, weighed with more than their own words. Even the use of this ancient style of communication in this age of total information technology hinted at the magnitude of what was to come.

"You could have told me," Kirese drew Vincent from his thoughts, "Why didn't you?"

Vincent ran his finger along the edges of the envelope, casting a somber gaze over the shoreline, "Because I didn't want that," he waved the parcel back toward their favorite watering hole, "to happen. To me, he was my dad… Here… here he is something much bigger. Your people almost worship him." He turned to Kerise, pausing to breath in the cooling salty air, "I don't know if I've grown out of that feeling; but the hero you gained, is the father I lost. I didn't want to be reminded constantly, and yet…" Vincent waved an arm to the massive hulk being completed off shore.

"Oh…" Kirese whispered.

She opened her mouth to say something when her roommate, trailing an exasperated Xanith, ran back over, "Common! Try to keep up!!!!"

"You go on ahead," Vincent smiled, but his heart wasn't in it, "I think I'm going to turn in for the evening. I have a bit of packing to do." Kirese turned to say something, but found Vincent's back turned, as the human began trudging through the sand away from them. Vincent never saw the gesture, and began wandering back towards the pub where he take the tram back to the barracks.

It had been a while since he had been recognized by his last name, and Vincent had almost forgotten that feeling. The real truth was, the heaviness of expectation mixed with the still sharp pain of loss had not lost its sourness within him. A part of him, reduced thought It may have shrunk during his time in the program, still blamed this part of the galaxy for taking his sole remaining parent from him.

A soft clunk under his boot announced his arrival back on solid ground, and Vincent turned to walk down towards the escalating stairs that would guide him to the jungle born tram system coursing through Delmar's canopies. Maybe this new assignment might finally allow him the chance to exorcise his own… "'His name was Gregory'."

Vincent looked up as a familiar figure stepped out into the moonlight, her almost Hawaiian style Delmar patterned sundress combined with her natural patterns having perfectly concealing her presence until she chose to step into the light, "Miran, hi," Vincent murmured, internally bracing himself for the inevitable flurry of probing questions that always followed. To his surprise, Miran gave him a small smile, stepping toward him before throwing out an elbow as she spun to stand next to him, "A human gesture, yes?" She asked, obviously waiting for his response.

Vincent watched her, stunned for a long moment for shaking his head in bewilderment. "I guess it is." He said finally, taking her hand and sliding it around his own arm, "but it's usually reversed, like this." The moment she had her arm around his, Miran pulled herself closer; and Vincent gave in with a soft chortle. He began walking towards the automated stairs that ascended them up towards the canopy height walkways leading to the tram stops.

Miran surprised him a second time by simply standing with him, and Vincent slowly began to unclench his apprehension as those inevitable pummeling of questions simply failed to arrive. Instead, both of them eventually arrived at the team station before either of them spoke.

"I guess I should have made the connection," It was Miran who spoke first, turning to face Vincent in time to catch the wariness return to his features, "Is that why you're so distant?"

Vincent looked into her eyes for a long moment before sighing heavily, taking a seat on the waiting bench. Miran sat beside him, and he could see the slightly hurt expression on her face, "I… yes." He answered, "It's difficult, when people over here find out he was my father. The way you talked about him when we first met. At the time I… I didn't want to deal with it. After…" he shrugged.

Miran smiled sadly, her voice just above a whisper, "You two were close?"

Vincent searched her expression. The all-too-familiar expectant gaze of someone wanting to be regaled with tales of their hero was absent. What he found was a realization. She was not asking about his father; she was asking about him. The revelation broke down the last of his guard, "We were… inseparable, save for the damned war." He began, "Mom died when I was 7. She was too close to an airlock when it failed. It was a freak accident, but she was gone. Dad raised me himself, until our war happened. He was called up by the Martian Navy. I was given a slot in their youth academy, part of the compensation for his service." The words poured out of him as the dam broke, "We messaged each other daily. I was young, and desperate. I believed that if I could do well enough, that I could put myself on the bridge, next to my father. I had very little understanding of how he fought or the true breadth of that conflict. I…"

Vincent paused as the tram arrived, mildly surprised when Miran followed him in, refusing to release his arm. "I never got my wish. I was barely 16 when Second Center-Point happened. It wasn't until after, that He told me some of what happened. By then I was on track for a commission, and I decided to make it a career. I was still stationed on planet, when Admiral Grarzia had his accident that started all of this; and Dad volunteered to lead one of the initial fleets."

Vincent looked up as tram arrived at his stop, again Miran followed him, and he chose to walk to a nearby recreational park instead of heading to his barracks room. "And he left again," Miran whispered.

Vincent's head dropped heavily; barely speaking now, "I wanted him to go this time… I wanted away from Mars, away from home, but they were only slotting veterans for those early missions. When we realized what was out here, Dad sent me a message. I was to travel to him as family, and we could start again somewhere without so many bad memories. For me, I was just happy he survived…" Vincent paused, dark memories floating behind his eyes.

Miran realized he had stopped moving, and gently guided him to a park bench, "I'm sorry." She whispered taking both of his hands in hers.

"I got the message of his death two weeks before I was to depart." Vincent's voice took on a haunted, mournful tone, "I was given bereavement, but that only let me spiral… I watched the recording of the battle over and over, and every viewing made it worse." Vincent looked down at her hands in his, chuckling darkly. The almost evil sound made Miran flinch slightly, but she didn't pull away, "I began to hate. I hate the Vorath for taking my father… I hated this part of the galaxy for sucking him in to his death…" he looked up at Miran, "I even hated Delmar for letting it happen. I… I hated myself, for not stopping him… for wanting him to go on expedition." he admitted aloud for the first time. "That hate spilled over into my career, and it began spiraling as well. That took my trip here off the table, and I was about to be drummed out of the navy when my CO gave me this chance… I still don't fully know what to do with it."

There, that was it. All his secrets exposed, his wounds revealed to the waitress turned acquaintance, revealed as a kind friend. "That's why I keep people distant. That's why the humans of the program don't particularly like me. I'm a wild card, one they feel has blown his shot at having the ability to even have a chance at this new frontier." Vincent closed his eyes, failing miserably to hide the pain inside, "The worst part is, they might be right."

"Let's find out," Miran whispered, and she held Vincent's gaze in hers as he lifted his head to meet hers. She released one of his hands, reaching into his jacket to pull out the packet containing his orders. Vincent held her eyes in his for a long moment before nodding, and opening the packet.

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Darrell Sinclair awoke to the softest of sounds. His roommate must have been just coming back from his own after-party. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he checked the time, "Jesus Chase, you better hope she was wo- UGH!" He was interrupted by a heavy impact followed by a sharp pain in his chest. Darrell looked down to find a long, wide-bladed dagger driven into his chest to the hilt. He opened his mouth to scream, only for blood to pour from it as he fell to the floor unconscious. A soft set of footsteps echoed as an auburn and silver hand reached over him, to the orders packet on his nightstand.