BRAAAABRAAAABRAAAA!!!! The alarm screams into the rog’s pointed ears. Slade reaches through a groggy haze and punches the black alarm clock off the grey synthocrystal night stand next to his bed.
BRAAAABRAAAABRAAAAA!!! The black clock from hell continues to shriek from the floor. The large rog rolls over in his small bed and groans.
" I’m so tired I could sleep for a year." The Rog says groggily to himself. He throws off his grey synthocrystal covers and sits up. It seems like I just went to bed. The forty-one year old man thinks as he gets up and turns off the irritating alarm.
Slade gets up and squints trying to focus his stinging eyes on the day ahead. He looks around his small one room apartment at his meager possessions. "Why?" The man asks himself as he tries to figure out his life and what it all means. "What in Aries name is the point of it all?" He asks himself as he gets up realizing that he should be getting to work quickly today.
The large stubbly Rog stumbles into the quivering iridescent black rectangle on the wall opposite his bed. The liquic display envelopes the large man, thus connecting him to the cities central liquid bio-crystal supply, known as the liquicnet.
Slade enters a six colored cube room, the floor is solid red, and the ceiling is green. The four colored walls quickly change to the man's preset home room. In front of him is his schedule for the day, and any messages he has since he turned off his LCD and armor before going to sleep. Neither the scheduled drills with his men nor the three dozen advertisements disguised as messages lift the man's spirits. The large man turns left and checks out a wall that shows a thirty second three dimensional video summarizing the days weather, not that the weather in Ultor varies much. The image is of the entire federation, including Memnonia in the east. The soldier's work takes him into the rainforest often and unexpectedly, he likes to know what to expect. The big man is glad to see that the rainy season is mostly over, last month he went to the forest for four days and it took him the six days after to dry off.
The man turns his head right and gazes at a virtual reality video from his visor of one of his favorite places in Memnonia. Clean. He thinks commanding the LCD to perform his morning ritual. First the room turns ultra violet, as the magic energy vaporizes all the hair on his entire body. Bright white light suddenly saturates the spacious cube as the energy proceeds to clean him using all the colors of the spectrum in equal proportions. After the rog is clean the room turns yellow, brown, green and blue as the liquic utilizes its stored biomass to nourish and hydrate the hungry man.
After three minutes in the liquic display, Slade exits as bald as a baby, feeling very refreshed, and if not full, at least not hungry. "Bed, couch." Slade says the simple command transforming his bed into a couch as he walks over to it and sits down.
Looking at the five small synthocrystal items scattered on the table beside the converted couch, he shutters at the thought of putting them on. He looks down at the two black synthocrystal soles on the floor beside his converted bed. With a quick inhale, and a slow exhale in the form of sigh, the man stands and thinks. Armor come.
Two identical black crescent pieces fly up off the table and fasten behind the rog;’s big pointed ears. Small flat bands of leathery synthocrystal levitate to Slade’s wrists and then wrap around them. Next a long thin leathery piece of synthocrystal leaves the table floating up to the mans waist and encircling it. The two rubbery black synthocrystal soles then glide over to the rog’s big feet and Slade steps onto them.
Armor on. He thinks.
Millions of tiny tan synthocrystal threads suddenly slither out from the black pieces quickly encasing the mans body. The first layer is lightweight, skintight and actively uses a low level static electric field to wick the moisture away from his skin. This layer has low lever antimicrobial properties as well. A leathery black pair of synthocrystal boots crawl up from the souls and cover the rog’s socked feet up to his calves. Black lightweight pants bleed down from the black belt and surround his legs with the cuff tightening at the ankles. Lightweight leathery black sleeves spread up from his wrists as a jacket forms over his torso from his belt. More blackness seeps from his wristbands surrounding his hands with a pair of synthocrystal gloves. The outer layer of the man's armor is state of the art fluid synthocrystal that is waterproof, breathable, stab-proof, and wind resistant. To top off the uniform a rigid piece of synthocrystal shoots from both his earpieces connecting above his nose, creating a sleek black visor concealing his large blue eye’s.
Slade goes to the only door of his small one room apartment, thinks it open and exits his apartment within five minutes of getting up. As the fully armored soldier steps outside onto the balcony he glances around as the sights, and sounds of the busy city of Ultor overtake him. His senses overload for an instant as he adapts to his bustling surroundings. The tall black figure looks around at the vast dreary grey crystalcrete city endlessly stretching out before him. Large black aerocars hover among the high grey haze over the tall grey buildings as black and violet wasp-like figures swarm in flowing patterns between the crystalcrete skyscrapers. Only deep dark shadows are able to reach the cold grey crystalcrete ground far below. Slade walks to the opening at the edge of the balcony and strides right off the sixtieth story balcony without missing a step.
The large rog plunges like a black stone to the hard grey crystalcrete surface of Aryn below, but within moments his armor reacts to the quick change in elevation. A glowing violet forcefield begins to grow out of Slade’s lower back. The energy forcefield quickly gets brighter and larger as it projects from the bottom of his shiny black jacket and the seat of his dark pants. Giving his legs buoyancy, the ultraviolet energy field resembles the long bubbled abdomen of a wasp.
As the soldiers aeroarmor supports the man's legs and back two violet energy wings sprout out from the shoulders of his jacket. The two dimensional energy wings start to flutter and his descent quickly halts to a hover as his body hangs in a wasp-like position. Slade’s arms and legs dangle freely as the energy abdomen provides buoyancy and balance to his lower back, while the wings allow him to hover and then fly.
The aeroarmor’s computer automatically checks with the city’s navigation system, and is assigned an elevation. Slade levitates to his assigned elevation as he thinks a destination and a direction indicator quickly projects a green indicator arrow from his visor onto his retina. Fly The man thinks, and he begins to move forward, fast.
Slade buzzes past the grey buildings of the city like a bug passing grey blades of grass in a dead field. He uses certain commands to attain his preferred speed and maneuvers by using his eyes and passively thinking, much like walking, although it took five times as long to master flying as it did to master walking. The man keeps the elevation set to the one given him by the city’s computer for the purpose of traffic flow.
The black and violet wasp-like soldier speeds through the city, maneuvering around buildings and past his fellow flying citizens. Slade barley notices his surroundings as he dreads the workday ahead. Although he usually enjoys doing drills, at least it gets his men out of the city and in the air, but he'd much rather be in the jungle on such a nice day. The endless grey uninspired cityscape surrounding the man virtually saps him of any creative expressions of pleasure, including fantastic thoughts, that come naturally when he's in the forest.
Millions of working class wasp-like rogs buzz around the buildings in their aeroarmor as the upper class aerocars hover over the tops of the tall skyscrapers. Aerocars are expensive and for the most part only owned by Equus. Only the chosen race of Aries have the money to own the large luxury vehicles, which hover and fly high above the buildings at super speeds.
Slade’s armor warns him that he will have to make an elevation change up ahead. The rog chooses the low route, and flies under a big black tube. The huge pipe is one of the primary arteries of the liquicnet, the network of synthocrystal pipes branching everywhere in Ultor. The enormous network of black pipes pump the precious resource liquic throughout the megalopolis and the exponentially expanding suburbs beyond. Millions of miles of black synthocrystal pipeline supply the federal citizens with liquic, through the LCDs in their homes and businesses.
As Slade descends several levels he suddenly sees the darkened alleys hidden by the shadows of the tall skyscrapers, and the large liquic pipes branching into every building. The soldiers keen eyes see quick movement underneath a section of the bug pipe above him . The rog instantly uses his visor to focus in and illuminate the suspicious figures lurking in the shadows. Using several scans including infrared warmth, ultragreen bio-energy, and ultraviolet thought energy signatures Slade sees two felac teens clinging to the side of one of the crystalcrete skyscrapers. At least one of them is a felac, Slade can see the other is larger than most felacs and with his strong sense of smell the rog is able to confirm the man is half felac and half rog.
The two men are using their strong retractable fingernails to grip the hard synthetic stone structures. At least he has some felac traits. Slade thinks as he quickly slows to a hover, looking up at the section of pipe above the two teens.
Just as I suspected. The federal officer thinks as he sees the hole in the large pipe leaking iridescent black liquid. Slade watches the hole in the black synthocrystal pipe get smaller and smaller as the pipelines magic anti-leakage technology kicks in, using the magic and elements in the liquic itself to patch the hole.
The federal soldier's aerormor automatically detects the liquic leak and the armor's computer begins an official investigation of the criminal activity. The two now fleeing felacs are identified as the suspects and Slade's armor flashes an arrest warrant on his visors display.
If the man doesn't do anything the armor, which is constantly in contact with the cities computer, will file the arrest warrants and video evidence from the rog's visor. The digital evidence will then pass through the system and standing warrants will be out on the two teens along with enhanced images taken from the visor. In fact the charges will eventually go before a priest to judge, even if the men aren't in custody or the whereabouts known, and a sentence will be passed without any defense from the defendants. From then on as soon as they are arrested by any of the five million rog soldiers policing the continent of Tharsis the two felacs will be placed in a corrections and rehabilitation facility for the duration of their sentence with the appeals process only being available to the richest citizens that can afford an attorney.
Damn it! Slade thinks realizing that he is going to have to deal with this, the armor would note if he did nothing.
Battle! Slade thinks the commands which overrides the city computers navigating commands, thus giving him complete freedom to fly anywhere. In the blink of an eye the black and violet wasp-like figure takes up pursuit of the two thieves.
The aeroarmor’s flying mode is extremely user friendly and very functional. With the armor's flying mode Slade can hover, descend and ascend with a simple thought. Since his legs just dangle he is able to hit the ground running and leave the ground running. Lifting his legs straight back he can glide horizontally just inches above the ground, and with his dangling arms he’s able to pick a pebble up off the street.
With their natural night vision the felacs see the rog soldier speeding their way, so they jump the last fifteen stories to the crystalcrete ground below. Relaxing their bodies during the fall the two men go limp and naturally roll so they land on all fours, thus absorbing the fall in their resilient joints like natural shocks. Like two racing sprinters the two thieves burst into a full force run, in opposite directions.
Slade does not hesitate to follow just one of the thieves, and he quickly catches up to the small thin man who keeps weaving and ducking into shadows trying to avoid the federal soldier. Light. The rog's armor magically highlights the criminal and area around him below.
Although the narrow obsolete streets are deserted Slade sees several slight movements at the edges of his peripheral vision. Damn subsurface rodents! The big man thinks, knowing full well that the subsurface dwellers scurry around on the edges of society stealing and scavenging for anything they can get their hands on, but also knowing that they aren't worth his trouble.
"Stop in the name of Aries!" Slade shouts at the thief, his armor amplifying his deep voice.
Panicked the felac ventures a quick peek back at his pursuer. He instantly regrets it.
Slade is right on top of his prey when the young agile thief tries one last ditch effort and stops and ducks. The soldier reaches out and instead of picking him up two orange forcefields shoot out of his gloved hands and wrap around the squatting thief.
Jerking the small felac from the street like a child picking up it's doll the large rog retracts the forcefields until the felac is firmly in his grasp. The magic energy not only restrains the man but also paralyzes him so he won't struggle any more.
Slade flies his prisoner to the nearest balcony on the tenth floor of a warehouse. The large grey platform was once used for loading and unloading merchandise, now long abandoned since most goods are created over the liquicnet.
"Damn it kid, you really screwed up this time." The muscular soldier says in a very deep voice as he lands and sets the man down.
"Get off me man, I wasn't doin' nothin' wrong." The feisty young man says as he tries to struggle against the armor's powerful magic.
"Take it easy Azar. I'll let you go if you just stop trying to get away." Slade says using the boy's name which his armor found out from the cities files. The big soldier turns the much smaller yet full grown felac teen around so the two are facing each other.
"Don’t try to play me soldier boy! Your kind never lets my kind go. Ya know who I am so you must know theirs an outstanding warrant out on me. Sides yo armor would tell on ya." The cocky young man says with a disdainful smirk.
Slade simply lets the boy go.
"I'm a captain and have the full discretion to drop all charges right now if you'd just listen to me."
The felacs eyes dart all around looking for the best escape route, but then he sees something that changes everything. And the small wiry teenager attacks the towering muscular middle aged man.
The young felacs cockiness is not unfounded it is well proven that rogs dominate the battle field when it is army against army, but felacs dominate one on one hand to hand close quarters combat due to their legendary chee martial arts and physical prowess. The large lumbering rogs just aren't fast and flexible enough to beat a good felac warrior. Unfortunately because of the young man's unstable upbringing and loss of his father at an early age this felac is not a good chee warrior. But he does have an advantage.
Slade would laugh at the pathetic boy if the whole thing weren’t so tragic. The huge man quickly sidesteps the felacs attack and quickly turns putting the smaller man in a non magical hold that is just as difficult to get out of.
From the balcony a few stories above them on the adjacent building a figure leaps towards the two men. Azar's partner in crime had doubled back when he realized he wasn't being followed and made his presence known to his friend before they both attacked the rog.
Above them several rogs slow down and some even drop out of traffic and stop to watch the not so rare but novel none the less scene. Even from the depths of the ally below them several curious eyes stop their fleeting movements and stare transfixed at the scene above as the shy subsurfacers get wrapped up in the dramatic action. Most of the dozen or so spectators see the second felac before the soldier and expect to see some real interesting violence. Most of the soldiers watching get ready to get involved, except for one or two. Those two recognize something about the soldier.
The felacs foot is inches from Slade’s head and strangely enough the soldiers shields aren't even raised, but it's not out of ignorance, quite the contrary its out of pure confidence that the lone soldier is standing unprotected.
At the last instant Slade’s free hand swings around and in the blink of an eye, without even turning his head or body the large muscular soldier snatches the flying felac from the air and twists him so he is danging by one foot over the edge of the balcony.
"Are you two going to listen to me or am I going to have to whip you down until you learn?" The large rog asks.
"Whadda ya want." The two thieves both asks in unison.
Slade once agin lets the felacs go and gets ready for the next outburst. But the two young men recognize the man's superiority. They have both been beaten many times by better chee warriors than them, but neither has ever gone against anything like the lone soldier standing before them.
"I am Slade Navar, and I run a chee dojo on the nights I' in town and the weekends. If you guys promise to come down I'll drop the charges and teach you two boys how to fight like men." Slade states simply. He can quickly see the shock on their faces.
"What's this some kinda trick. Ain't no rog gonna teach a felac chee." The shorter full blooded felac scoffs.
"Shhh..." The larger half rog teen says to his friend as he grabs him and whispers something in his ear.
Slade watches with amusement as the felacs face suddenly softens and he looks back at the soldier, not with disdain but adoration and a little bit of fear.
"Did yo say yo name was Captain Slade Navar?" The falac aks hesitantly.
"That's him yo fool, I'd know the lone soldier anywhere." The half rog says a big grin crossing his face like cheese spread.
"Yes I'm Captain Slade Navar..." The large man says as he glances around at the ground gathering above them. All of the onlookers instantly spread the word once they heard that the rog they were watching was the infamous Captain Slade Navar. The crowd quickly quadrupled.
"...The lone soldier." Slade adds reluctantly never really warming up to the nickname or the fame for that matter. "So you two wanna go to prison or come and learn how to be real men in my dojo."
"They always said you knew chee, but I never believed 'em." The half rog teenager says, obviously a little starstuck. "No one would ever teach me chee, on acountta I'm a half-breed."
Slade is moved by the young man's sad disappointing life. Creating two thin synthocrystal cards with his armor's liquic supplies the soldier gives the boys all the information they need about his dojo.
"I'll teach you both to fight like me in no time." Slade says as he watches the two young men suddenly see something worth fighting for in their future.
The man's visor suddenly flashes red as his communicator rings with an urgent incoming communiqué. The tone of the ring and red flash tell the soldier that he has to take this call.
"Gotta go guys, I'm gonna keep your warrants until I see you again, so you better get your butts over to my place soon." Slade says and flies away leaving the stunned thieves and spectators watching after his magic wake.
"Neek lo nsol chp!" A voice in the shadows far below whispers to his unseen friend.
"I know Komo. Who would have thought we would see the lone soldier in person. Just goes to show ya the surface isn't all bad." The subsurfacer replies as the two scurry away into the unseen world where no light or federal citizens venture yet famous stars like Slade Navar shine just as brightly.
Answer. Slade thinks and a transparent three-dimensional, life-sized figure of his commanding officer colonel Nocte appears a few feet in front of him, standing in mid air, but is actually just a projection on his retina from his visor.
"Captain Navar, you must report to the hanger immediately, we are needed for a two day harvest mission in Memnonia." The rog officer says and then abruptly disappears.
Yes that's just what I was hoping...
Did he say we?
"Damn it!" Slade curses to himself. It sounds like the Colonels coming with us.
The rog soldier promptly returns to course to the hanger as he ponders the meaning of a harvest mission. But before Slade has a chance to get too angry, he comes to a large building that takes up an entire block. The building is one of the federations many naval hangers. This one holds thousands of assorted ships. Captain Navar’s ship is located on the hundred and thirty fourth floor.
Land, one hundred thirty-four, section C. Slade thinks as he flies up to his floor and lands on the entrance balcony. The entry door senses him and opens as he approaches and the violet forcefields on his black back disappear. The rog captain enters and walks around The Endeavor, enormous extraction and transport ship under his command, sitting in the middle of the docking bay. Through the briefing room door, in front of him, he can hear his commander’s voice as Nocte orders the Endeavor's crew around. This makes the captain mad. It isn’t that he dislikes someone else giving his men orders. It’s that he dislikes Colonel Nocte ordering anyone around.
Although they've been together since they were kids, went through the federations's demanding soldier school together and even though each man owe's the other for their current carriers and success, the Colonel and his no one Captain are not friends.
Slade groans as he thinks open the door and enters the briefing room.
