TALE - The Second Son (Rough Draft)

[simison]

"I think so," Anasya said as she wandered over to the room-sized console. 

 

Good, before you do anything I want you to press this button.

 

Anasya wasn't sure how it was happening, but one of the buttons in front of one of the sleeping agents began to glow. Gingerly, she pressed it. Behind her, there was a mechanical whir as a thick, metal wall closed over the door. "Am I trapped?" she whispered, eyes wide.

 

You are safe, the voice corrected. Now, no one will be able to attack you, until everything is over. Neither will these Nightwatchmen wake before the danger has passed. 

 

"Oh." Movement in the cameras caught her eyes. She saw soldiers and vehicles gathering at the Directorate's bridge. "Something's happening."

 

I've almost arrived. Could you please shut down the defence systems?

 

Anasya flushed as she remembered why she was here. "Yes, yes, of course."

 

~~~

 

"I'm going."

Edited January 5, 2018 by simison

[simison]

Kravchuk fixed a suspicious stare at Chukhay. "What did you say?"

 

Hefting his weight from his chair, Chukhay repeated himself. "I'm going to the Hall and remain there."

 

"Why are you leaving the safety of this bunker?"

 

Even Captain Dumas looked unsure, though the old officer made no effort to speak.

[simison]

Chukhay was acutely aware of how vulnerable he was. A lifetime of political intrigue and danger had given him more than enough experience to master his emotions. But his compatriot was an inherently paranoid individual, making this next step twice as difficult. Already, Chukhay could see the thoughts churning in those owlish eyes, murder lurking within that brilliant yet poisoned mind. "The alien comes alone. If he, by some miracle, pierces the defenses of the Directorate, I will face him behind my desk with the Directorate Guard. I will not surrender to Ovlast or Balov to this unarmed stranger." He paused before adding in a weary voice, "I have sacrificed too much to lose it now."

 

The drop of self-interest was enough to sell the lie to Kravchuk. At least, enough to prevent the other Director from ordering his death. Instead, Kravchuk turned to Dumas through the bulletproof glass. "I want the Hall filled with the best of the Directorate Guard and the Nightwatch. No trick of this alien can protect him if he dares to come in."

 

~~~

 

Paul's heart was hammering in his chest. They were about to enter the weapon ranges of the Directorate itself.

[simison]

One of the few benefits of being stationed in Ovlast was learning about the secret defense network of the Directorate itself. At the start of Kravchuk's term, he had made it clear he had found its defences inadequate, despite being the primary objective of the Directorate Guard. In addition to the single bridge and the moat providing a natural barrier, an automated defence system had been installed, complete with heavy cannons that could destroy a tank with a single hit.

 

A tank much like the one Paul was currently in.

[simison]

Paul stared at the Directorate as they entered the effective range of the cannons. Seconds passed by as the political landmark grew closer. After a minute, Paul could see no hint of the defence system deploying. Paul instead focused on the walls. Even without his binoculars, he could see that the entire Directorate Guard was ready to receive them. Soldiers occupied the top of the walls, and tanks sat waiting on both sides of the bridge. Needless to say, the gate's barriers were activated. Paul had no idea how they were to cross the bridge without initiating combat. 

 

From within the tank, his gunner, Emil, shouted, "Order, sir?"

 

Paul was on the verge of speaking when, to his shock, the main gate's barriers deactivated before his eyes. He threw a glance at the giant behind him. Alexandros looked down, met his gaze, and winked. 

[simison]

~~~

 

The Hall wasn't really a hall anymore. It had been once in the distant past when a castle stood where the Directorate now sat. In the present, it was a large office where the Directors would receive important dignitaries as one. Blue, rich carpeting welcome guests as they walked in into the pure-white walls.  Actual decoration was sparse, furniture limited to a few expensive sofas and chairs that could be adjusted depending on the size of the delegation. 

 

Most importantly, an elongated desk of pristine mahogany stood in front of storey-sized window. The long desk integrated three positions behind it, one for each Director while presenting a seamless whole to visitors. That apparent unity made the absence of a third Director all the more awkward as Kravchuk sat in the center with Chukhay seated to his left. 

[simison]

Chukhay could not help but wonder what would become of the desk after today. 

 

"Then use explosives!" Kravchuk roared.

 

Captain Dumas no longer had the bulletproof glass to protect him from the Director's spittle. He stood before the desk no longer the lone soldier in the room as the finest soldiers of the Directorate Guard lined the walls. Chukhay knew for a fact that a few of them were members of the Nightwatch in disguise. 

[simison]

"Even if we began now, it would still be an estimated two hours before we breached into the command center," Dumas stated as he maintained his poise.

 

It had been another one of Kravchuk's insistences in addition to the new automated defence system. The control room enjoyed one of the thickest concrete shells to ensure it would be one of the last areas to fall to an enemy force. The irony of this situational reversal was not lost on Chukhay.

 

"How does the Directorate Guard lose access to the most critical components of our defence with a facility on the highest alert!?" Kravchuk raged. 

 

Dumas was spared from answering when the radio on his belt squawked to life.  

[simison]

"The alien is over the bridge, over," the voice announced through the radio. 

 

~~~

 

Mat wasn't sure, but he thought he could every soldier shift as they trained a million guns on the three of them. He tried to act as confident as Alex was, who didn't seem to have a care in the world as the tank came to a stop. Mat was pretty sure his sweaty palms were a dead giveaway that it wasn't working. 

 

Alex's voice echoed in Mat's mind. It's almost time to complete your side of the deal.

 

Shooting a scowl at the red-haired giant, Mat thought as loudly as he could, I KNOW!

Edited January 19, 2018 by simison

[simison]

A low rumble of a chuckle echoed through Alex's chest, yet his eyes never left the army surrounding them. After Mat hopped off, Alex stepped off the tank. The soldier still had to look up to talk to Alex as he asked, "Should we come with you?" 

 

"You can," Alex answered, "But stay on my left side as we go in. I insist."

 

Mat's heart thudded louder. He knew he was supposed to be on Alex's right side for one reason alone. 

 

The soldier nodded before he shouted down into his tank, "Dismount!"

 

Mat didn't know if he wanted the soldiers to hurry up or slow down. All he could think about was the job he was about to do in a few minutes. He knew exactly how it was supposed to happen. Alex had made him go through it a dozen times in their shared dreams. But did what happen in dreams work in real life?

[simison]

He suddenly realized he was sweating. Not just his hands, but his entire body. Despite being a chilled Autumn morning, Mat's body was hot to the touch, a sign that his powers were reacting to his fear. As Alex had taught him, Mat forced his breathing to slow. He preferred to manifest a flame in his hands, it was easy for him to pour his emotions and fire into a single point than to calm down through breathing exercises. However, Alex had warned him in the dreams that if Mat made a fire at this moment, bullets would start flying.

 

As the last soldier took his spot on Alex's left, the giant gestured for everyone to walk forward. Even when he actively slowed and shortened his pace, Alex nearly left the others behind as they had to strike an uncomfortable pace somewhere between a fast walk and an outright run. In seven such strides, they arrived at the front doors of the Directorate's core building. 

[simison]

The doors were big and pricey-looking. On any other day, the doors would've only ticked off Mat with their obnoxious wealth. Today, Mat thought it was a good thing they were so big to let them all enter at the same time. Even then, Alex had to duck a little to get in. The inside was just as expensive-looking as the outside with thick carpets and some kind of fancy stone making the room. Mat didn't care about any of that. His eyes were locked on the door to his right, behind the squad of soldiers pointing rifles at them. It was getting really hard to maintain his breathing as he recognized the door. 

 

"Shall we?" Alex prompted. Mat looked up and saw Alex looking down at him. Alex was waiting, unhurried. 

 

Mat took a deep breath and nodded.

[simison]

Two steps. Mat counted them out. With each step, he concentrated, focusing his inner fire to gather in his arms. On the third step, the door on the right was thrown open. A young woman rushed out, a handgun held high as she screamed something. Despite going through this moment a dozen times, Mat had never figured out what she had said. 

 

As she broke through the line of soldiers, who were caught off-guard by the outburst behind them, Mat threw his hands up. She pulled the trigger, weapon aimed at Alex. A curtain of blue fire erupted from Mat's hands, standing between Alex and the killer. The bullet entered the curtain and melted in the extreme heat before it could harm Alex. 

 

The girl was also shocked by this and instinctively kept firing. Mat gritted his teeth. Conjuring flame was easy. The difficulty was maintaining the hotter fire. Until now, his fires had never been blue. Seconds passed, and exhaustion beat at Mat as he struggled to maintain the curtain. Until, finally, the gun was empty and merely clicked as the stunned woman kept pulling the trigger. With a tired wheeze, Mat released the fire, which vanished into thin air. He fell back a shaky step before an enormous hand studied his back.

 

Well done!

[simison]

~~~

 

The gunshots pierced the quiet of the Directorate office, even if they were muffled by distance and closed doors. Both Directors threw a suspicious glance at each other. After a moment, Chukhay realized that his counterpart was as confused as he was. He addressed Captain Dumas. "Situation report."

 

As the officer activated his radio, Kravchuk murmured to himself. "Did the alien open fire? If so, why is there no return fire? Has the entire Directorate Guard been compromised?"

 

Chukhay did his best to ignore Kravchuk as he tried to listen in on Dumas' communication. There were two voices on the other end. One was the distinct cadence of a professional soldier, the other was a loud wailing of some sort. The wail made it difficult to hear the soldier, leaving Chukhay to hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

[simison]

Just as Chukhay was piecing the information together, the double-doors into the office opened. One of Balov's officers stepped through, a tank commander as denoted by his uniform. A flash of confusion struck Chukhay before he remembered how the VonSalim had arrived at the Directorate. He peered behind the officer. And wasn't sure what he was seeing. For a moment, he thought someone was holding an enormous, purple curtain next to the doors. Then the fabric shifted, and a giant bowed in half as he slid through the doors. 

 

Only once he had entered the room did the giant, VonSalim, stand tall, his head not too far from the high ceiling. 

[simison]

Even in their shared dreams, never did VonSalim evoke such inherent charisma. It was almost a physical thing, a mantle VonSalim wore with almost indifference. Chukhay couldn't help but wonder if this yet another subtle manipulation. 

 

VonSalim glanced at the clock and smiled. "It appears that I'm exactly on time." His eyes shifted back to to the Directors. "I am ready to conclude the blockade and negotiations at this time." 

 

Kravchuk, who had been reeling from the giant's unnatural aura, regained a portion of his composure, finding refuge in rage. "What negotiations," he blustered. 

 

"Oh, it's very simple. I have made an offer for a mostly peaceful resolution to our current conflict," VonSalim elaborated before turning his attention solely upon Chukhay. "Has my offer been accepted?"

[simison]

"Chukhay!"

 

Chukhay ignored his fellow Director as he attempted to meet VonSalim's eyes. He had stared down rulers and killers, but never had Chukhay wanted to break eye contact so quickly. It was more than facing off against a being much greater than he was. The longer he stared, the more Chukhay wanted to surrender. Not out of fear or despair, but out of camaraderie. Slowly, he felt himself wishing that he wouldn't disappoint the alien who was asking for his world. He wanted to befriend his powerful giant. 

 

The feeling was antithetical to everything about power and politics that Chukhay knew. There were no friends among men of such stature. Only allies and enemies. "I wish to renegotiate the condition."

[simison]

VonSalim smiled and said, "No."

 

Chukhay took a deep breath as he prepared himself for his next action. Death was a possibility, but the odds were in his favor. The portly leader reached for a drawer and opened it as calmly as possible. Removing the false bottom, Chukhay pulled out a Tokev-pattern plasma pistol. Plasma were highly experimental weapons within the Alliance and, as far as he knew, only the Directors had access to the sole stable plasma pistols in the entire system. 

 

Kravchuk's shouting grew louder, but Chukhay ignored him as he pointed the weapon at the giant in front of him.

[simison]

VonSalim didn't sneer, tense up, or so much as twitch. He stood there, waiting with that ever-present smile. Anger boiled within Chukhay. Not even in this moment could you at least grant me the decency of showing a little fear. The room's tension swelled as the seconds became centuries. 

 

Chukhay swung the pistol toward Kravchuk. His fellow Director had an instant to react in horror and surprise before Chukhay squeezed the trigger. A green sun engulfed his former comrade. The blinding light faded in a moment, leaving the lower half of a melted body and chair. Chukhay forced himself to not gag at the sight or the smell. He may have been beaten, but he would not violate the dignity of his station in its last minutes.

 

All of the soldiers in the room remained pointing their weapons at VonSalim. Chukhay could not tell if it was because of their loyalty to his command or if this was a subtle show of power by VonSalim. 

Edited February 4, 2018 by simison

[simison]

Chukhay walked around his desk. Although he was now committed to his course, his pace was slow as he marched towards VonSalim. He held his pistol at an angle, neither pointing at the floor or at VonSalim.

 

The giant waited. 

 

Chukhay stopped before him. A moment passed as Chukhay rehearsed the bitter words. He turned the pistol in his hand, offering the handle first. "I, Varlam Chukhay, sole remaining Director of the United Balovian Alliance, hereby surrender."

 

Reaching out with his index finger and thumb, VonSalim pinched the weapon's handle as best as he could with his massive digits. "I, Alexandros Darshan VonSalim, Primarch of the Imperium of Mankind, accept."

Edited February 7, 2018 by simison

[TheBlindPrimarch]

..."with his size." Feels kinda clunky. Maybe "with his massive hand." Might be better?

[simison]

Look better?

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Hmmm...actually, (and this is my final suggestion) "massive digits." It makes sense narratively to remain focused in on the fingers rather than draw the attention out to the hand in general.

[simison]

~~~

 

Alexandros typed commands into his personal dataslate as he sat in the strategium. With the press of a button, Alexandros officiated Chukhay as Balov's first Imperial Governor. With that particular bit of legal work completed, he opened the a new form that would shift the Imperium's future. 

 

Before he could start, the door hissed open. Alexandros looked up and enjoyed the small surprise of seeing Theodor Villrof, Chief Apothecary, step in. After a full week of scrying and navigating the currents of the future, he welcomed a brief relief from his powers and a chance to anchor himself in the present. "Excellent, I was actually hoping you'd be the first to arrive. How are you, my son?"

 

Theodor snapped off a moving salute as he approached. "Enjoying a chance to indulge in a research project, sir. How can I be of service?"

[simison]

After pressing a few buttons, Alexandros offered his dataslate to Theodor. "I have a young woman who needs this treatment. Her name is Larisa Ivanov. I want an apothecary sent to her address immediately as I have promised her grandmother. Send an escort as well, but in recon armour. We need to start exposing the population to Legionaries, and now is as good as time as any."

 

The Chief Apothecary scanned the screen several times before he returned the item. "I'll send the order at once, sir." He gestured to the hololithic table. "If I may?"

 

"By all means."