BEFORE – Scout’s Honor

In the depths of the Union Space Station Antirades, the footsteps of a young man echoed their way through the lonely maze of corridors. Simulation of “night” for the station dimmed the typical illumination, causing the man’s face to cast shadows beneath his eyes and nose, leaking down to the uniform he wore. The dank colors of the halls further darkened the man’s presence, sinister, had any been around to pay heed. The shadow-swathed man turned sharply on his heel and strode up to a large double doorway, its reflective steel surface standing out against the dull, off-white walls of the corridor. The word RESTRICTED etched its way across it, split down the middle by a slender wedge that signified where the two doors met together.

The assigned watchman leaned impassively against the wall, yawning noisily. His gaze briefly swept over and discarded the newcomer. He opened his mouth to say something dismissive, to chase this bothersome distraction from his post.

Then, this watchman noticed the emblem pinned to the man’s lapel, and smartly snapped his mouth shut. Surprise sprang to the guard’s face as he realized who stood before him. Shock melted into awe, and he could only stammer. “Scout business? Here?” His frightened voice echoed down the vacant hallway.

The Scout’s intense crimson hair danced like flame as he ran his hand through it and nodded. He flicked his other hand towards the double doorway. “I require entrance.”

The guard did not respond, and looked cautiously at the Scout. Looking at the steel doors slowly before returning his gaze to the fiery-haired man, his face contorted into indecision. He stood straight, holding his hands out wide. “I-I’m afraid I cannot do that. Just let me get clearance to…” The guard coughed into the silence, and when the Scout did not respond, he cleared his throat and turned to the wall behind him. He pulled a radio from its place, docked into the wall.

“I’m of the Will. I already have the highest of authorizations.” The crimson-haired man bent forward, focusing on the guard’s face. “You don’t want to impede me.” The Scout emphasized his words by patting the oversized phasic rifle hanging from a strap over his shoulder.

The guard turned pasty white. “Um…well…no…but…I’m not… supposed to let anyone in here.” The guard raised his hands up as if to defend himself from attack. “I’ve got strict orders…!”

“Orders that transcend the Will?” The Scout chuckled softly. His voice, although calm, sounded much louder in the empty passage. The guard stuttered, trying to stammer a response, but the red-haired man continued. “Very well. I’ll wait here, and you radio your superiors. Inform them that you need permission to allow one of the Will passage.” He crossed his arms again and smiled.

The pasty guard’s sweat dripped down his face. He had to admit, the thought sounded ridiculous. When he puts it that way… “No…uh, sir… please…” He frantically groped behind himself, holding his view of the red-haired man, his hand moving along the surface of the wall until he finally found a smooth black pad set in the wall next to the door, and laid his hand flat across its surface. A tone sounded, followed by the sound of machinery within the thick steel doors unsealing their lock. The double doors slowly swung inward, presenting a passageway lit even more dimly than the outside corridor. Visibly shaking, the guard attempted a half-smile and pointed down the hall, all the while carefully avoiding looking the Scout in the eye.

Nodding to himself, the young man slung his rifle over his back and clapped the watch on his shoulder as he passed him. “There ya go.” Fieryhair’s voice echoed from inside the passage. “Was that so difficult?”

After the double doors closed, the guard sank to his knees. “Damn brats… scare the hell out of everyone…” Composing himself, he shook it off and stood up. “I can’t very well ignore him.” The guard blinked as he realized that was initially what he intended to do, and then again as he noticed he was conversing with himself. Growling in frustration, he leaned back against the wall.

A high-pitched BEEP startled him from his already frightful thoughts. Looking around and then into his own hands, he realized that he still held the radio from before. The guard held the transmitter to his face and pressed a button. “This is Door 4, go ahead.”

“Who just went through there? We’ve got your palmprint on there.”

The guard took a deep breath. At least I have a good reason. “It was a Scout, sir. Said it was official—“

“A Scout? Standby…”

The guard stood surprised by the urgency with which he was cut off. The radio crackled, and then a deeper man’s voice came on. “A Scout? There? What was his ID?”

The guard blinked. Surely they wouldn’t expect me to question… “I… didn’t get his name.” Silence answered him. “…sir.”

“…Standby.” The guard shifted his feet nervously and glanced about him as a staticky silence washed over his ears from the radio. It was not too long before a higher pitched voice, a third man, transmitted over the air. “Did he have bright red hair?”

The guard replied. “Yes.”

“Son of a bitch… Assign my ID –…” The voice echoed as the radio beeped off. The guard was left baffled, staring at his radio. Shaking his head, he redocked the transmitter into its bay in the wall and moved back to watch his post.

Thoughts ran through his mind. He could get demoted if he had just bungled up. The man was a Scout. He had to listen to the Scout. The Scouts were the Will of the Union… they only spoke as the Will commanded. Right? He shook his head. I’m not paid enough for this.

* * * * *

“Son of a bitch…” The dark-haired Scout flipped off the radio and turned to the older gentleman who was decorated in his stuffiest uniform. He took a moment to take in the Admiral’s roomy office, comfortable furniture and an eating area, all frivolously arranged for aesthetical value, and then turned to gaze through the enormous port window into space. For a moment, he was jealous. He had power anywhere in the Union, but he did not have such an office or room to call his own, other than the dank and bare quarters he shared with the other Scouts. Then again, they never were really ever AT headquarters, so it was more than often empty.

Oh, well… matters at hand… “Assign my ID to the authorization for that section.”

Admiral Chardon, with what was left of his grey hair combed hurriedly forward, as if trying to hide the absence of hair on top—and making it even more obvious–, nodded hurriedly and strode to his desk. He leaned over the front and pressed a few buttons on his desk panel. A few moments passed, and then he looked back to the young Scout. “It is done. Shall I have your…men…assembled, …Cerberus?” The Admiral’s voice was strained; no doubt he was uncomfortable at having every Scout in the Union called to his station.

The dark-haired man flipped his wrist as he was already exiting the Admiral’s plush office. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.”

Striding purposefully down the corridor, Cerberus pulled his phasic pistol from the holster hanging from his belt and pressed several buttons on each side without looking. A soft whirring noise shook his hands, and the pistol, normally a dank grey, pulsated to the beat of a translucent blue. Reaching up to his lapel, he ran his finger over it insignia, and it glowed with the same translucence for several seconds before fading.

Cerberus held his weapon to his side, pointed downwards, and marched straight ahead, his gaze cutting through the space in front of him. Officers and enlisted men alike dove out of his way, eager to be on about their business anywhere else than in the way of a Scout with a lit weapon. This Scout moved with a viperish gait, ready to strike anything that impeded him.

Making his way to an elevator shaft, the door opened to reveal it already crowded. “Out.” Cerberus said softly, gesturing with his pistol, and before he could finish the word, it was empty, its former occupants scurrying behind him. Shaking his head, Cerberus stepped in and pressed a button to take him to a lower deck on the craft.

Several times the elevator stopped to allow entry for passengers. Sometimes they were members of the crew, and as they saw the Scout, their faces would give away their surprise, and then they would suddenly be occupied by something outside the shaft, preventing them from entering. The door would close and the elevator moved on. Occasionally one of Cerberus’ subordinate Scouts would appear as the doors reopened, and he would enter with a quick nod and a “Sir,” turning to face the entryway themselves. As the elevator finally reached the depths of the craft, it contained eight young men, clad in the dark blue uniform of a Union officer with golden lapels with insignia that represented their kind.

Their kind. The Scouts. The Union’s greatest fighting force. Not just anyone could be selected to become a Scout, only certain humans even had the aptitude to attempt entry. It was so difficult, in fact, that no one “applied” to be a Scout. Usually, the Union sought out the recruits, not the other way around. To say the trials and exams were difficult was an extreme understatement; their mental and physical capabilities were tested and charted and mapped to the point where the testers knew more about their subjects than the subjects themselves. Even the exact tests themselves were a secret, and there was no practice run. The Union came, swallowed you whole, and if you survived the tests, you passed. No one knew what happened to those who failed. Only rumors flew, even to the Scouts themselves. And not one among them had yet aged over twenty standard years.

As the doors slid to reveal the passage they sought, in unison they stepped out into the hallway. Cerberus took the lead, with three pairs of Scouts marching shoulder to shoulder behind him, and a final man in the rear. Their soft boots made no sound down the long corridor; Cerberus had long requested he and his men be rid of the hard shoes that clicked as they walked, like the other soldiers wore. Stealth was a common thing needed in their line of work, and when did a soldier find time to change his shoes?

The eight Scouts turned a corner at an intersecting corridor and marched up to Door 4. The guard’s eyes widened with each step they took towards him. As Cerberus stopped directly in front of the large double doorway, the guard was trembling.

Cerberus reached and placed his hand on the black pad next to the door. The computer sounded, and the doors slowly opened inwards. Turning to the guard, Cerberus smiled and waved his hand about, as if he had opened the door by magic. The guard could only stare, and after no response from the man, Cerberus shrugged and marched through the doors as if he was disappointed in not impressing him.

The Scout directly behind Cerberus paused for a moment before following, turning to the guard. “All Scouts have the highest of clearance, and are already programmed into the system. Just because someone looks like a Scout, does not mean they are.” The guard’s mouth dropped as that sank in. “Good. You understand. Use that for future reference.” The Scout set out at a half-jog, and the others followed behind him.

As the Scouts caught up to Cerberus moving down the long corridor, Cerberus spoke. “Heir,” he said, addressing the second Scout, “You know, he did what probably anyone else would have done, allowing the Scout to go through.”

“He knows the palm reader is there to check for authorization of those entering. All he had to do was have Tailz place his hand up and we would’ve been alerted right away.”

“So what, Heir?” Cerberus sighed. “Then Tailz would have convinced him to open it anyways, that it was just a mistake, or Tailz would have killed the man and forcibly used his handprint to gain entrance.”

Tailz had been Heir’s predecessor, the second-in-command before he went renegade months ago. To this day, none of the Scouts had any idea as to why he had rebelled. It was a sudden move, unexpected by anyone, least of all Cerberus. It pained him that it had come to this; Tailz was the closest thing to a friend Cerberus had ever had. He felt a connection to the man that he shared with no one else, and he found himself lonely at times without him. He understood now why the Will preached against fraternizing and relationships, it had been his hesitation to kill Tailz in the first place that led them this far.

Tailz had been meeting with the Willers, whilst Cerberus and the other Scouts waited outside. With barely any warning, some loud shots emitting from inside, Tailz came running out of the room with a phasic rifle and a horrified look on his face. There had been twelve Scouts that morning. Minus Tailz and three others slain by him, that left the eight of them. Although Cerberus had been given command due to his balance in intellectual, physical, and leadership ability, Tailz far outweighed the others in pure weapon skill, and they hadn’t stood a chance. It was if he knew what they were doing long before they did it.

Which is why we’re here today, Cerberus thought. With such a high skill level, they had to wait until they had a chance to attack while he was occupied or distracted. He received word from one of the Willers that he might try to steal a prototype spacecraft from this science station. The Willer mentioned Tailz wanted to flee the Union. That he was bent on anarchy and the destruction of the Human Union and all it stood for. And that this new spacecraft was the only way to do it, a spacecraft with an experimental engine that allowed faster-than-light speeds. It apparently had been tested successfully, but was still too dangerous to use regularly.

Turning another corner, Cerberus put his hand up, stopping the others as they saw two dead men lying on top of one another in front of a doorway that had been bashed inwards. Taking a moment to push one aside, phasic plasma burns were obvious on their chests. Heir grimaced and sighed from behind Cerberus. “Shot point blank by a rifle.”

Cerberus shook his head. Motioning for everyone to stay quiet, Cerberus slowly stuck his head in the room through the broken doorway. After a few moments, he retreated and looked back at the others. He whispered, “This is the doorway to the main hangar where the craft lies. Through this door there are two stairways, one on either side, which will bring you down to the main floor. The craft is located in the middle of the hangar.”

“See anyone?” Heir asked.

“No. I don’t think anyone else is there… except…”

“Except, these two men weren’t shot by the other scientists. Tailz knows we’re here.” Heir nodded at the door. “I’ll bet you he’ll expect us to try to sneak in somehow on him.”

“What? What are you thinking, Heir?”

“I say we do the last thing he expects. Barge right in. I’ll take three men and you take three and we’ll split up down the stairwells. He won’t be able to take all of us moving and split apart.”

Cerberus nodded and chose three Scouts. “Night, Blank, Steel. You all follow me, the rest of you follow Heir.” They nodded and sorted themselves in line behind their leaders. Cerberus turned to Heir. “Go!”

The two groups emerged through the doors and into the large hangar. Entering the long room at its midpoint, Cerberus flew down one set of stairs with the others behind him. Cerberus saw that the stairwell turned three times before it reached the floor, and realized how far up from the hangar floor they had come in. He also realized that running back and forth along a wall made him an easy target.

As the thought sprang to mind, instinct threw Cerberus to the floor beneath him as blue fire razed towards him from across the room and over his prone body, burning into the wall behind him. Calls that seemed distant echoed towards him. “Cover! Cover!” Moving his head above the stairwell enough to peer down, smaller jolts of blue lightning were blazing from a point unseen to Cerberus further down against the wall, aimed high across the hangar, towards the far side. Thanks, Heir.

“Now where did that come from?” Cerberus asked.

A younger Scout, their newest recruit, Steel, pointed up directly across the hangar, over the top of the massive spacecraft parked within it. “Tailz was in there, and fell back as the others gave fire.” Looking where Steel motioned, Cerberus saw in better detail where Tailz had fired from. Directly across from the entrance the Scouts had utilized was a windowed room with a door that lay open. A stairwell similar to the one Cerberus’ group had just begun to climb down led up to the room.

Cerberus looked at the situation carefully. “We won’t be able to climb that while he’s up there firing, and we’ll be too vulnerable climbing down to get over there in the first place.”

“Well, we’re not here to save the craft, so there’s no point in going down there if Tailz isn’t there.” Steel pointed back the way they came, towards a platform that ran around the sides of the hangar at the top level. “If we don’t take the stairs, that runs around the whole room, and we can hold fire on his location while we run.”

Cerberus nodded. “Steel, you run up and over to Heir, tell him the plan, and we’ll advance up either wall together.” Steel nodded and took off, staying low. Cerberus turned his attention back to the others. “Alright, let’s move back up onto the platform and make our way around.”

Cerberus took lead and started making his way back up the stairs. Blank followed close behind with Night in the rear. When the three of them reached the top, Cerberus could see Heir and his group already slowly making their way towards the corner of the room, holding fire on the door across the room. “Let’s give them a head start, boys.” Cerberus aimed his pistol across the room on the door and fired. The shots from the other two followed immediately.

*****

Heir watched from the corner as Cerberus appeared up top and opened fire on the room across the hangar. “Cerberus is covering! Move!” Heir suited his words by sprinting along the short wall, making for the far corner. His Scouts followed closely behind him, and Steel turned to make his way back to Cerberus.

Heir slowly crept along the platform, watching for a glimpse of Tailz through the windows of the control room. He knew the windows were shatterproof, but it would help to keep an eye on where Tailz was when he got there. Not seeing anything, Heir increased his pace.

With the loss of all feeling in his body, Heir was pounded into the wall. Darkness tried to envelope him, but his mind fought it off, trying to stay awake. As his sight faded back to reality, a searing pain writhed his arm, and he found himself laying flat on the platform. Blinking his eyes open, the other Scouts were standing over him, firing at the floor below. Following their fire, he saw Tailz pent up behind the spacecraft in the middle of hangar. “Lance! How in sakes did he get there?!”

The young man on his left spoke. “Not sure, Heir. He just blasted at you while you were running from under the spacecraft. I could’ve sworn he was up top…”

“Blasted?” Heir looked down at his arm, and cursed. His arm was terribly burned from the phasic charge emitted by Tailz’ rifle. “Dammit!” He found his pistol nearby and opened fire with his good arm along with his other men from his place laying on the platform. “Dammit! You bastard!”

*****

“What the hell?” Steel called from behind Cerberus as a rifle shot soared from behind the spacecraft and crashed into the wall where Heir was running. Heir bounced against the wall, landed on the platform, and then his Scouts stood around him and returned fire to the ground.

“How did he get down there?” Cerberus called.

“Look! An elevator!” Night pointed off to the side, and sure enough, in the wall, hidden by the view of the spacecraft was a small crack, signifying a sliding door.

Blank cursed. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

“Wait.” Cerberus said. “If there’s one on THAT side…” The four Scouts looked at one another and retreated out the main entrance slowly, stepping over the two dead men that they left behind. Sure enough, right down the hall, there was an elevator facing the hangar. Cerberus pressed the button, and the door opened wide with a chime, admitting the four Scouts. They stood silently, looking at one another, until Night spoke. “This is very embarrassing. I hope you all know this.”

Cerberus shrugged. “No one told me anything about this place. How was I supposed to know the elevator outside the door opened towards the hangar?” He reached forward and pressed a button on the panel, and the door closed and the shaft began to move downwards.

A few moments passed as the elevator stopped moving. The doors slid open, giving a direct view of the chaos. The other Scouts were still on the right-side wall, firing down in the direction of the spacecraft. Cerberus and the others had a better view, and could see that Tailz had already moved.

Cerberus shot once towards the ceiling, and gave a hand signal. The firing stopped from the wall, and Heir could be seen being helped up and moved along the wall, making their way to the control room they had initially been aiming for.

“Search it!” Cerberus called, and suited his words by moving up to the craft. The craft looked similar to any craft they had used before, except there was much more armor shielding it, such that the normal creases and angles of a craft were smoothed over, as if it was one large piece of plastic. Three metal rungs for steps were all that stood out from the craft, leading up to a gull wing door in the top half of the craft. Cerberus pulled on the door, but naturally, it was sealed.

As he peered in the porthole, a call sounded from above, followed by phasefire. Looking up, Cerberus could only see an occasional shot coming through the door of the control room, and hear yelling from inside. “Take aim! He’s up top again!” he called, and the Scouts on the ground targeted above. “Open fire if you see him.” Cerberus said. Thinking for a moment, he called out again, “Steel, keep an eye on the damned elevator!” He would not be caught off guard.

Minutes passed as the firefight went on. Holding steady, Cerberus and the others waited for a glimpse of Tailz. Blasts of phasic energy were heard exploding against doors and equipment in the room, and the occasional shot that blasted out of the room streaked unabated across the ceiling into the wall on the opposite side. Time moved on.

Then, with a deafening roar, the craft’s engine suddenly fired, and the lights running along its wings shined brightly, illuminating the hangar beyond its dimmed lighting. Cerberus and the other Scouts grabbed their heads in pain, making their way to the wall farthest from the craft. Once there, Steel yelled, “How is the craft active, if Tailz isn’t in it?!”

Cerberus yelled back over the roar of the craft. “It is a test craft! The control room must have the capability to control it remotely!”

“Look!” called Night, pointing up at the control room. Tailz flew out of the room above and dove over the rail towards the hangar floor. Cerberus and the others immediately opened fire on the renegade, but Tailz plummeted faster than the shots could be targeted to him. At the last moment, Tailz flipped himself upright, and he stopped, levitating a few inches above the floor.

“Dammit!” Cerberus said. “Levpads!” He barely had time to get the words out of his mouth before the entire hangar rocked. An explosion shook the control room, and spurts of flame and phasic energy erupted near the ceiling, channeled through the only open point, the door. The glass windows held tight.

“Levpads AND a phasic mine!” Cerberus cursed. “Where the hell is he getting all this stuff?!”

Tailz smiled briefly as Cerberus reacquired his target and opened fire. Using the levpads, Tailz moved laterally across the hangar floor, dancing just beyond the reach of their discharges. Cerberus became further frustrated as he saw the smile glowing on Tailz’ face. He’s ENJOYING this! As Cerberus and the others continued to fire, Tailz danced closer to the craft. Cerberus realized that there was no way they could stop him now.

“Catch him!” Cerberus yelled and sprang forward, but was too late. Tailz levitated up the craft, easily pulled open the door, and vanished inside, obviously able to unlock it from the control room. Cerberus attempted to leap up and grab hold of the craft, but it moved too high from the ground, and he hit the floor. Then, as the craft pushed itself to the far side of the hangar, Cerberus realized what was about to happen.

“Hold on to something!” he yelled, and ran for the far wall, grasping at handles built into it. As Cerberus grasped on, the wall nearest to Tailz and the prototype craft swung open, revealing the emptiness of outer space. Night quickly clung onto the wall next to Cerberus, and the two of them extended their hands to the others. “Come on! Grab hold!”

To his dismay, Cerberus saw that as the air sucked out through the opening into space, gravity was weakened, and neither Blank nor Steel were getting traction on the floor. They were trying to run, but were making little progress towards him. Struggling, they took one more leap together towards Cerberus. Cerberus flung his arm out, straining to grab them.

He felt himself grasp onto a hand. Holding steady, Cerberus pulled it in towards himself, and looked to see himself touching Blank’s hand to the wall. Blank grabbed a latch, and looked back at the chaos. Night had gotten hold of Steel with one hand, but was struggling. “I… can’t keep him…” Night yelled, struggling under the weight. “It’s… too much… aaaahhh!” Night’s hand slipped, and Steel went flying.

In that split second, Night unthinkably tried to recover Steel with both hands, and immediately was swept away from the wall. “No!” yelled Cerberus, and he frantically grabbed at him. Cerberus’ hand enclosed on the scruff of Night’s uniform, and he looked sideways to see Blank struggling, holding Night’s leg. Steel was nowhere to be seen.

Several minutes passed as the doors swung shut again and the room was refilled with oxygen. Cerberus let go of the latch and fell to the ground, gasping and wheezing. “Dammit… Steel…” He cursed himself, banging on the floor. “Not you too… that’s four men down by this bastard…”

“Come on,” came Night’s voice from above him. “Let’s go check on the others.”

Cerberus’ head shot up. “Of course! They were in the control room when it…” Unable to continue the sentence, Cerberus shakily pushed himself to his knees, and then hoisted himself onto his feet.

*****

The remaining Scouts kneeled before the Willers, and kissed the floor. “We are sorry,” Cerberus intoned. “We are all that are left; Tailz has murdered seven of us now.”

To Cerberus’ right, Heir knelt, bandaged and bruised. He was the only one who had survived the explosion in the control room. Beyond him, Night and Blank knelt, relatively unscathed.

A deep voice sounded. “Few or many, one or all, the Hands of the Will are bound to the Union’s Will, as always was, and always will be. You will continue your pursuit, and destroy this traitor.”

“As always was, and always will be,” intoned the four Scouts.