I refuse to give in. I absolutely refuse to! I will not tell them where the secret bunker for the Emperor and Empress and their children are. I've seen their works, I've seen what they can do. They can promise they won't hurt anyone, but I won't tell them. They can strip me of food, but they won't get anything out of me.
I don't know how long it's been since my capture. I've slept four times, so I'm assuming four days. No one's coming, I think, sitting on what I call a bed, the light from outside only lighting the room a bit. A guard laughs from outside. I hear footsteps, but they're running. Moving to the door, I try to listen in.
"... been pounding our blockade for four days," a voice of a younger woman says, pausing in between to take breaths. "They are running low on food and reinforcements. We need to do something."
"Negative, they can handle it on their own," the gruff voice of the man guarding my cell.
"We need to help them!" the woman screams, and the sound of a slide being cocked shuts her up.
"Either you listen to what I say and leave," the man says, "or I blow your brains out."
"This is fu-" A shot fires, and everything is silent. I shrink back to the corner of my cell, away from the scene outside my door. I can only picture what the girl might look like, and blood coming out of the bullet wound.
I look at my right arm. All down it, the skin is burnt, and in some places, the skin has given away, revealing layers under. Luckily, everything is scabbing over, the burns blistering. Jade ordered no interrogation today, to let me rest, I guess.
Laying on my bed, I start to drift off to sleep.
"Attention!" the drill sergeant barks, and all twenty-five of us stand, in unison. Walking, looking at, he continues. "You are all the best of the best. You passed all your simulations with all the highest marks. From here on out, you will all be split into teams of five, just like that of a command cruiser. I don't give a fuck if you don't like your group. This is your new company."
On the ground, there are five circles, each one with either A, B, C, D, or E, and each a different colour. "A" is red. "B" is blue. "C" is yellow. "D" is orange. "E" is green. "I will call a letter, and you go there," the sergeant says. One by one, he calls names. Soon, mine is called. "Adrian Gershwarve, D," I gulp, and walk over to "D". Already over was Denis Cultara and Cindy Flacconne.
By the end the names were done being called, my squad consisted of Denis Cultara, Cindy Flacconne, Joseph Patruzi, Lauren Cohan, and I. "You will also have a designated Admiral. Of your group, you'll need to select a Captain to act like an Admiral. Meet here, tomorrow, 0700. Dismissed."
Walking with my group, I analyze each of them, seeing who could do what. Denis and Joseph could potentially be the pilots, where Lauren could command the cannons and monitor shield levels, and Cindy could command the fighters. We walk in silence to our barrack, in a cluster. As we turn the corner to our barrack, an Admiral stands between us and the door.
The Admiral is tall, dressed with multiple medals and awards. His hat, which covers his face, is decorated with his many victories. By his looks, he seems no more than 70. Leaning on the door with one foot against it, he looks at his fingers.
"You must be Delta Squad," he says, his voice warm, yet sturdy. "What an odd group. I've never seen such a group with such little potential." Standing up, the Admiral removes his hat, revealing slicked back black hair. Seeing his face for the first time, I can tell this isn't going to be easy. His eyes speak the stars, his jaw a ship in itself. His face exclaims battles. "I am Admiral Trench, commander of the Vigorous. I am your designated Admiral, and looking in the eyes of you all, I see a great squad. Come inside, I'll get you all started."
With the swipe of a keycard, the heavy metal doors unlock with a hiss of gas, and quickly slide open. Walking in, our eyes widen. Each of us has their own little quarter, fully enclosed. I found mine with my name. Opening the door, I was shocked.
In the middle of the nicely lit room, there sat a bed, and just by looking at it, I can tell it's new and comfortable. I have my own washroom, shower, even a cabinet full of clothes on the left. On the other side, there lay an empty case, just hanging on the wall. Going straight for the bed, I say on the edge, and the mattress fit my shape. To this day, there hasn't been anything better than that mattress.
"Everyone, out here," Trench yells. When we were all out, he continues. "We need a Captain to act as an Admiral for simulations. Now, there is one way to do that." Pulling out a holoboard, Trench says, "beat the enemy ship, and you can become Captain." Once the board booted up, the user's fleet consisting of a command cruiser, ten DSTR cruisers, fifteen RMMR cruisers, thirty motherships, and 20,000 fighters. The enemy fleet had the same, however, they had five more RMMRs and only fifteen motherships. "Who'll try first?" Admiral Trench asks, walking away from the board.
"Piece of cake," Denis says as he sits down, and orders all fighters, motherships, and RMMRs to move forward, and the DSTRs to stay halfway. The enemy fleet holds. Then, enemy fighters fly out in all directions, going towards the rear of Denis' RMMRs. "Fighters, cover the RMMRs," he says, and panic ensues upon him. All of the fighters engaged the enemy. Suddenly, the enemy advances all motherships, and right away eliminates three RMMRs. "Motherships, ward off the enemy," Denis says, now sounding desperate. "DSTRs, form blockade L-R4." However, the command was made too late. The engines on the RMMRs have been destroyed, and the enemy is picking them off one by one. The enemy DSTRs and RMMRs have moved, destroying what ships remain.
"DSTR blockade, open fire!" Denis orders, hoping to strike something. Some of the forward hull of the RMMRs has taken damage, but not enough to slow them down. In a matter of seconds, the blockade has been breached, the command cruiser left defenseless from the incoming fire.
"I have never seen such a horrid effort,"Admiral Trench says, disappointed across his face. "Pathetic. Check your ego at the door, cadet."
"But, I'm-" Denis begins, but Trench raises his hand.
"You are what I say you are. The only time you will get rank is when all your positions have been determined," Trench's voice has trickles of anger. "Next." The board resets.
Cindy steps forward. Unlike Denis, she moves all her ships to form a strong defense, and sends out the fighters and motherships to do the work. The board is a light show, each flash representing a destroyed fighter or mothership.
Then, the enemy line shifts. The RMMR cruisers make their way through the firefight, towards Cindy's blockade. "Blockade, open fire," Cindy orders, and the blockade releases a barrage of shells. Unlike Denis, the ships were slowly being destroyed. "RMMRs, engage," Cindy orders. However, there are now small spaces in the blockade.
Before Cindy could order her next move, the enemy command cruiser moved forward, turned port, and fired. Her ships tried to fire back, but they were wiped out quickly.
"Always make sure-"
"Is he dead," a man asks beside me. "Get up!" A hard blow to my side shoots my eyes open. "Good. Emperor wants to see you."
YOU ARE READING
Loyalties
Science FictionGrand Duke Drake Daemon is forced by testing his loyalty when another empire wages war. Drake thinks he can handle it, but now, he has a family. He cannot go into battle and risk dying. However, something very unexpected happens, and now, Drake mus...
