Chaos of Choice: Chapter Twelve

 

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Chapter Twelve

Lieut wiped away a trickle of blood that was making its way down his cheek from the deep gashes at his temple, and standing up he shook the snow from his shoulders and hair. He thought about waking his companions, but changed his mind and walked across the small plateau towards the standing stones that occupied it.

Amid the Standing Stones Lieut brought his sword up before his eyes and smiled at its beauty. The sword would likely be considered heavy by most, but not to him. It was nearly ten centimetres wide at the handle, the blade stretched out roughly a metre and a half from the hilt, tapering off on a slight curve to the tip. The metal was black with a sliver shine along its razor-sharp edge and the cross-piece was wide and crafted from silver. As the crosspiece connected in the middle of the blade it wound around an Anther crystal before continuing a few inches down the black metal of the blade in a spiral. The handle was of soft black leather and with a silver pommel carved into the likeness of a great roaring lion’s head with more Anther crystals for the eyes, which seemed to burn with inner fires.

The large sword moved like a feather in Lieut’s hands as he worked the blade in wide arches and sweeps, always turning with the motion and always on the balls of his feet. He spun in a twist before cutting back in the other direction with cuts and stabs, switching hands and reversing his grip on the handle in fluid motions, which made it seem as if his sword was twirling around him. Lieut had been taught that the movement of your feet was the most important part of swordsmanship, and his feet were dancing across the top of the fresh snow, kicking flakes into the air. As the snow swirled around him, he went into a spin and with each cut of his sword he carved a snow flake in half. Tirelessly Lieut turned and darted as if he were battling an unseen opponent, and with each sweep of his great sword he caused the snow to swirl about him. Down low he went, his sword turning above his head and around his shoulders, the tip of the blade creating small cuts in the snow. With a balanced uppercut he was standing again and continuing his dance. Suddenly he stopped his movement and stood still, his eyes closed and his sword in one hand by his side. Slowly the swirling snowflakes returned to their lazy descent to the ground. Lieut let out a deep breath and returned his sword to the clips that were seamlessly built into his silver shoulder guard.

“Incredible,” someone breathed.

Lieut did not need to look to know that it was Fairris, but he turned to see the elf sitting by the fire near where Vythe still slept looking on in amazement. Lieut did not respond, and he turned back towards the Standing Stones.

“I have never seen anything like your style of fighting before,” Lieut heard Fairris say as she stood up, her feet crunching slightly on the snow as she walked over to him.

“Where did you learn?” asked Fairris.

Lieut turned to regard her, but still he did not reply.

“Please,” Fairris insisted. “If I can learn where you were taught, then maybe I … maybe I can …”

Fairris’s voice trailed away and still Lieut did not reply, but he did regard her closely.

“You can what?” Lieut asked when Fairris still had not continued.

Fairris sighed deeply and looked back at him, her blue eyes locking with his. “Then I can become a great warrior, to become stronger, like you.”

“Why?”

“What does it matter?” Fairris shot back, fire simmering in her eyes.

Lieut studied Fairris closely for a few minutes. “I cannot tell you where I was taught.”

Fairris’s shoulders slumped a little. “Can you teach me then?”

Lieut nearly laughed aloud at the question. “I have never taught anyone anything.”

Fairris let out a deep breath, her face marked with such pain that Lieut suddenly felt rueful. With her head drooped Fairris turned and began to walk back towards the fire.

“Wait,” Lieut found himself calling to her.

Fairris turned back towards him, a slight sparkle in her eyes.

“The best way to learn and to become better is to practice,” Lieut said awkwardly as he looked at the Standing Stones around them.

“And how do I do that?” Fairris asked curiously.

“By sparing with an opponent,” Lieut replied, still purposefully not looking at Fairris.

“You would spar with me?” Fairris asked, her tone showing her excitement and surprise.

“Yes, I guess I will,” Lieut said hesitantly and he looked at Fairris. “But do not think that it will be easy. When training, you fight like it is a real battle. So expect to be hurt, for I will not grant you any special treatment.”

Fairris hesitated slightly, but she firmed her jaw and nodded.

“First blood from a cut ends the fight,” Lieut said seriously as he drew forth his sword.

Fairris drew in a steady breath and her ghostly Fog-made gunblades appeared in her hands.

As soon as Fairris’s blades formed, Lieut lunged at her, his feet moving quickly and his sword arm moving quicker. In three short slashes he had Fairris on her heels, and in just another three more slashes into her blade he slipped his sword through her defences and sliced her on her hip.

Fairris winched and jumped away from him, but the sparing session was over, Lieut had defeated her.

With her gunblades dissipated Fairris examined the cut on her hip. Lieut knew it was not deep and if he had wanted to, Fairris would not be walking now.

“Incredible,” Fairris said as she wiped away the blood and cast some minor healing magicks on the cut. “I have trained nearly all my life and yet you were able to defeat me in five seconds.”

“You need to stay on your toes and move your feet more,” Lieut said simply. “Only luck saved you from losing more quickly.”

Fairris shot him an indignant look. “I will do better this time,” she replied with determination and her weapons came to her hands again.

A slight smile came to the corner of Lieut’s mouth as he lunged at Fairris, the tip of his sword leading the way.

Fairris did better this time, whether it was because she had only just woken up last time or that she had now found her rhythm, Lieut could not tell. But it mattered little. He quickly worked her blades high before cutting low across her thigh. But his blade did not scratch flesh, rather there came a blue flash and his sword skipped by without drawing blood.

Fairris jumped at his surprise and went on the offensive, apparently thinking she had an advantage, but he moved quicker than Fairris, blocking her attack and countering by kicking her heavily in the gut and sending her backwards into the snow drift.

“I warn you now Fairris,” Lieut said angrily, “if you ever use magickal buffs again, these sparing sessions are finished. Only the weak use buffs, those who can never be true warriors and perpetuate their own weakness by using the Fog to enhance their abilities.”

Fairris was coughing as she tried to regain her breath, but she nodded.

“You move so quickly,” Fairris remarked once she had gathered herself, “Your sword clearly weighs a lot and yet you wield it as if it were made of air.”

“That is because it is a real weapon,” Lieut replied. “Not one made of Fog that weighs nothing. If you practice with a real sword its weight will soon seem normal to you, and you will be stronger for it.”

“I can make my gunblades weigh more,” Fairris suggested, “so to imitate a weapon made of steel.”

Lieut nodded in agreement, and fought away a smile he felt coming to his face. He was glad when Fairris’s Fog weapons came to her hands so that he might try to force away some of his frustration and confusion.

Now that Fairris was wielding heavier weapons he defeated her twice as easy, and she quickly fell back with a line of blood across her collarbone. To her credit Fairris acknowledged her defeat before trying again.

But there was no way that Fairris could defeat him, Lieut had single handedly destroyed armies. Sure enough, he defeated Fairris within seconds with her falling back with a line of blood on her skin. Fairris was quick to ready her blades for the next duel, and Lieut happily obliged her.

Their battles continued on for many minutes, but from the exertion of the sparring, along with Fairris keeping her concentration on her weapons and casting minor healing spells on herself, it was obvious to Lieut that she was getting tired.

Only a couple of seconds after Fairris summoned her gunblades again it was over completely. Lieut shot the tip of his sword ahead aiming for Fairris’s eyes. She managed to cross the blades in front of her face to block his attack, but as soon as the strike connected Lieut pirouetted low and swept Fairris’s feet out from under her. Fairris landed in the snow, her gunblades disappearing.

Breathing heavily Fairris looked up at Lieut and shook her head in exhaustion. To his surprise Fairris forced herself to stand and conjure her weapons again.

“That is enough,” Lieut said.

“I can continue,” Fairris growled back through clenched teeth.

Lieut shook his head. “You will gain no benefit while fighting in exhaustion.”

Fairris let her weapons dissipate and she slumped to her knees, sucking in deep breaths.

“You two make more noise than an avalanche.”

Lieut turned to see Vythe sitting by the fire watching them while he ate.

“But I always enjoy some entertainment whilst I break my fast,” Vythe remarked with a smile. “Although, I am more partial to some pleasant music, rather than the clash of metal and gasps of pain.”

Neither Lieut nor Fairris replied as they walked back to the fire where Vythe was sitting.

“Those markings are new,” Vythe observed as he looked closely at Lieut’s sword.

Lieut looked down at the flat of his blade where brightly coloured ruins had begun to show on the black metal.

“When the sword absorbs enough Fog the runes glow,” Lieut shrugged and he returned the blade to his shoulder.

“Remarkable, they are not like any runes I know of,” Vythe remarked curiously, “Do you have a name for such a fine blade?”

Lieut shot Vythe a curious look and shook his head. “It is a sword, why would it have a name?”

“All great weapons have names,” Vythe replied as if it were obvious. “Take my double-ended spear for example.” As Vythe spoke a six-foot long Fog spear formed in his hands with a long thin blade at each end. “I have never come across anyone able to create the same spear of the Fog. So it must be unique, and therefore deserves a name, and I have called it ‘Yārnrd’.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Lieut asked, a dull expression on his face.

“It is dwarven for ‘lancer’,” Vythe replied indignantly. “And you may look suitably enamoured because you know well that Dwarves protect the secrets of their language, along with all else, very well. And you will also find it surprising that I know the Dwarven language.”

Lieut fixed Vythe with a bored expression and did not reply.

“Well I am impressed Vythe,” Fairris said honestly.

“Thank you Fairris,” Vythe said and his spear vanished. “Your gunblades have names too no doubt?”

Fairris nodded and her twin weapons came to her hands. “The left is ‘Fomalhaut’ and the right ‘Vāga’.”

For the first time Lieut noticed that there was a slight difference between the two weapons. The blade of Vāga was more curved while Fomalhaut was straight, also the barrel and handle of both weapons was different.

“So, does your sword have a name Lieut?” Fairris asked, her twin weapons dissipating.

“No, it is a sword, a tool of a warrior,” replied Lieut. “Although, this blade is a part of me and if it is stolen I will die trying to retrieve it.”

“Such a weapon is deserving of a name,” Vythe remarked seriously.

“Do your boots have names or the rings on your fingers? Of course they don’t. The sword is mine and that is enough,” Lieut replied firmly as he rose to leave. “It is time to go.”

Vythe and Fairris did not argue as they gathered their things. Vythe extinguished the fire with a wave of his hand and Lieut led them from the small outcropping back onto the mountain path.

The Gulesian Highroad that ran through the Gaia Mountains Pass continued in much the same fashion as it had done previously. The wind bit at Lieut’s flesh and blew the snow into his face. Although the cold was no worry, the constant falling snow was becoming an annoyance. The wall of heavy snowflakes obscured his sight and made the trek longer than anticipated as it increased in ferocity. The snow storm continued for another couple of days, forcing the trip to a virtual standstill. During the times when it was at its worst they were forced to stop completely for they could not see the path in front of them. Having nowhere to go they sat down where they were and Vythe conjured a Fog fire. Lieut noticed that despite their abilities to cast warming spells upon themselves both Vythe and Fairris were looking cold, to the point where Fairris was visibly shivering. But the ever resourceful Vythe had an answer for the cold and he pulled forth two thick fur cloaks from one of the pouches at his belt.

Lieut was surprised at first when he saw the two cloaks come out of the small pouch, but he knew the answer.

“An extra-dimensional pouch,” Lieut remarked, and Vythe shot him a smile. “Hard to find a vendor that sells those. Who did you steal it from?”

Vythe laughed. “Galleraze has many treasures, if you know where to look.”

“I have a third cloak, if you want it, Lieut,” Vythe continued.

Lieut shook his head.

“Why am I not surprised?” Vythe quipped.

“Surely you must feel the cold Lieut,” said Fairris, holding the fur cloak tightly around her shoulders.

Lieut did not reply.

“But that does not make any sense,” Fairris exclaimed. “How?”

“Still you persist with the questions that you know I will not answer,” Lieut replied irritably.

Fairris looked as if she was about to object, but Vythe cut in.

“Come now Fairris, we need to accept that our friend is simply peculiar,” said Vythe. “Perhaps he has an unbelievable control over his body temperature. Or maybe the reason why he does not feel the cold is due to a disease he suffers from, and is too embarrassed to tell us.”

Lieut did not bother saying anything.

“Perhaps it is the Layprin disease,” Fairris remarked, joining in on Vythe’s jibe. “I hear that is a terrible thing to contract. All your senses gradually go numb to the point where you cannot even feel the breath you draw in.”

Vythe was nodding in amusement. “Or could it be the result of sleeping around too much when he was younger, and not protecting himself from the sexual diseases carried by the unclean? It’s not Pugis, is it?”

Vythe looked at him with a disgusted expression, and Fairris laughed.

“Enough,” Lieut demanded angrily, which only caused both Vythe and Fairris to laugh harder.

“We jest, my friend.” Vythe laughed.

Lieut glared at them both. “The storm has eased. Let’s go.”

Still laughing Vythe and Fairris joined Lieut as he started off along the road again. The storm had barely lessened, but it was enough for Lieut to see the path ahead of him. By that evening the blizzard had practically stopped, and only light snowflakes fell around them. Vythe and Fairris had both decided to continue wearing the thick fur cloaks and as the night fell around them they sat by the fire hugging their shoulders closely. The clouds had disappeared by now, leaving the skies clear and the stars and moons to twinkle down upon them.

“Look,” Fairris pointed to the sky, “the stars are crying.”

Lieut and Vythe looked to the heavens to see ribbons of illuminations weaving across the sky, turning from a lime green into a deep blue before shifting through the colours of purple, pink, red, yellow and then back to green.

“The Summerset Aurora,” Vythe remarked, “an accumulation of Fog high in the air.”

“Look at the depth of colour,” Fairris replied. “It foretells a warmer than typical summer.”

Vythe and Fairris continued to talk lightly about the coming season and other such things, but Lieut was not listening. His sight and mind was completely enchanted by the Summerset Aurora. He had never seen anything like it before, it was incredible. The Aurora hypnotised him as the ribbons danced back and forth, intertwining and becoming one before ripping apart into several, all the while shifting colour and appearing as if the skies were burning.

Sitting down with his back to a rock and his sword across his lap, Lieut continued to gaze into the Summerset Aurora. Soon Vythe and Fairris stopped talking and drifted off to sleep, leaving him to take the watch, as usual. For the whole night Lieut stared into the sky, watching the colourful ribbons of light burn through the heavens, until the dawn came and they disappeared into the day along with the stars.

As Inüer glowed brightly in the clear eastern sky Lieut decided it was time to rouse his travelling companions. Fairris was practically awake already and insisting that he and her have another sparing session while they waited for Vythe to rise.

Fairris lost as quickly as the times before and it was not long until she was exhausted. By the time they finished Vythe was wide awake and so they continued on down the mountains.

The day was clear and the wind crisp. Long white fingers of cloud drifted up from the gorges and valleys and dissipated into the sky. By the afternoon the clouds had formed and once again they were pelted with snow. Thankfully it did not become too heavy and they pushed on through the snowstorm.

The heavy clouds and mist hung around for the better part of the trek, bringing with them spasmodic blizzards and sadly preventing Lieut from seeing much of the Summerset Aurora during the nights. But the snow did not stop Fairris from pestering him to spar with her, and if she had improved any it was very minimal. The only thing that Fairris seemed to have learnt was to better take a hit. He was somewhat pleased to see that her endurance was notably improving at least.

With the clouds and snow hanging around all the time it prevented him from seeing the views across the land and also from noticing the change in terrain. It came as a surprise to them all when they seemed to be suddenly surrounded by tall pines and ferny undergrowth.

That night they camped under the bows of a giant pale pine, a common tree in the Gaia Mountains, its grey trunk over six-feet wide with roots that spread wide and deep. Both Vythe and Fairris found the nooks between the roots to spend the night in relative comfort. Lieut was content to just rest against a boulder as he caught glimpses of the Summerset Aurora through the branches of the pine trees.

The next day brought a break in the overcast weather and gave the promise of an enjoyable day. After Lieut and Fairris practiced their swordplay they set off along the road.

Compared to the trails through the mountains the road here was easy to walk along, it was only a dirt road, but wide and with tall pines lining the edges. Tufts of grass poked their way through the top soil of the road and around the rocks. Although the recent snows had made the road muddy for the most part the trek was easy going. As such they were making good time, and Lieut believed that they would be down from the mountains within a couple of days.

When they broke for lunch Fairris again asked Lieut to spar with her, which he obliged, and he started to realise that he enjoyed these moments of sword play with Fairris.

“It is a good thing that minor healing spell of yours prevents scarring, Fairris,” Vythe remarked once Fairris had exhausted herself. “It would be a shame if Lieut’s blade were to slip.”

“I do not slip,” Lieut quickly shot back.

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” replied Vythe, studying him closely.

When Fairris had regained her breath and healed her cuts, they set off again. As always Lieut took the lead and Vythe and Fairris fell into step behind him.

The afternoon continued on exactly how the morning started, with blue skies and a warm light from Inüer and a cool breeze racing through the trees prevented it from getting too hot.

Not long after they had stopped for a rest Lieut spotted some movement ahead on the road. Three men were in the process of lifting a wagon that was stuck in the mud on the side of the path. The wood of the wagon was old and half rotted with hundreds of wood worm holes all over it. The canvas was in tatters and seemed to be growing mould. Even the iron bolts and supports looked as if they were nearly rusted through. As soon as Lieut had seen the men and wagons he was suspicious, and his fingers tingled in anticipation of a fight.

“Greetings travellers,” called a large hairy man with thick arms and a thick chest.

It was clear enough that this man was a native of Gaianaus, with his thick black hair and sharp blue eyes, and even his voice was thick with the accent of the northerners.

“Well met,” Vythe returned the greeting. “In a spot of bother are we?”

“Not at all,” bellowed the burly man. “We will have this wagon out in no time.”

“Perhaps a new wagon would be a prudent investment,” suggested Vythe.

The stranger laughed loudly. “Only too right, but we won’t need it once we get to the Monastery.”

“Of course.” Vythe smiled back, but his eyes were hard.

“Good day friends.” The burly man nodded to them. “I am sure we will meet again.”

“I have no doubt,” replied Vythe stiffly.

Still eyeing the large man suspiciously Lieut departed down the road with Vythe and Fairris close beside him.

“They were bandits,” Lieut remarked, once they were far out of sight of the men at the wagon.

“Yes, I think they were,” agreed Fairris seriously.

“We should have just killed them,” Lieut stated flatly.

“Let us hope they saw how formidable you were and it will not come to that,” Vythe replied sternly.

“Why are you so opposed to killing, Vythe?” Lieut felt compelled to ask.

Vythe looked at him curiously. “Everyone has a right to life, Lieut.”

“That does not mean they have a right to keep that life,” Lieut replied quickly. “Everyone makes choices, and if they are prepared to kill then they should also be prepared to die.”

“Not everyone chooses to be where they are in life,” Fairris added. “Not all who are bad are inherently evil, and for many it is the situations that they find themselves in which force them to make bad choices.”

“Perhaps,” Lieut conceded. “But let us say someone steals food because they cannot afford it, and they soon find out that they are good at it so they continue stealing. Do they stop when they have what they need? Of course not, they choose to continue stealing, and will now kill to keep what they have taken. Maybe that person did not start out as inherently evil, but now, through their own choices they are as such.”

“Not all are that way,” Fairris remarked quietly, causing Lieut to glance at her curiously.

The path had begun to wind down the decline and the forest had become more over grown with ferns and other shrubbery. Moss grew on the rocks and mushrooms grew at the base of the trees and fallen logs, and a creek bubbled as wildlife was noisily going about its day. The well-used trail twisted down the hill and dipped into a small dell where a stone bridge crossed over a stream and at the other side of the ford the path continued up into the trees.

As Lieut passed the midway point of the bridge he noticed that the birds had become quiet and the rustles in the bushes were too heavy for an animal. Two men crested the hill at the other end of the basin, one a thin and sickly looking half-elf in dark robes and black hair, and the other a burly man from Gaianaus, the same man from the broken wagon.

“What a remarkable coincidence,” called the big man.

“So much so that it strains credulity,” Vythe called back, his voice sour.

The burly man burst out laughing and slapped his belly. “You sir, have a wit about you.

“No use trying to fight,” the burly man continued. “Your Fog magicks are no use now, see my dear friend Orinno here has cast a globe of void over you. He is so good with void magicks and hexes.”

“Do you always have to tell people that, Barnore,” huffed the thin half-elf.

“It’s true,” Barnore protested.

“I know it is,” said Orinno. “But I like to have an air of mystery about my magicks, is that too much to ask?”

“Well, no,” the bigger man said apologetically, “I’m just proud of you is all.”

Orinno smiled. “That is nice of you to say.”

“Well I am,” Barnore insisted.

“Come on!” someone yelled from the trees.

Barnore looked surprised. “Right, to the task at hand.”

The big hairy man looked down at them. “Perhaps I should introduce myself more formerly. My name is Barnore de’Turin, opportunist, profiteer, philanthropist and a ruggedly good looking individual.”

As the man finished he went into a low bow and came up with a wide smile on his face.

“You are nothing more than a murderous bandit,” Fairris spat back, her eyes burning.

Barnore smiled wider. “Indeed I am, and unfortunately for you three I am also a slaver this day.”

Lieut sneered, thoroughly fed up with the situation, and wishing he had already killed the man. He took a step forward. Suddenly a crossbow bolt ricocheted off the stone in front of his foot.

“I would not do that my friend,” Barnore remarked. “All my men are dead eye shots.”

“I am not your friend,” Lieut sneered back.

The sickly half-elf laughed. “Quite a lively bunch these ones.”

“Much more than the other ones.” Barnore nodded in agreement.

“Shall we head to Lancer now?”

“I think you are right, Orinno,” said Barnore. “These three will get us some nice coins, especially the elf.”

“She is quite pretty isn’t she?” Orinno agreed, causing Barnore to scowl at him.

“Is she now?” growled the big man. “Perhaps I will have to make her less pretty. My fist will fix her, and you, if your eyes continue to wander.”

Orinno suddenly cowed and sheepishly submitted.

“Enough,” Lieut growled and he drew forth his sword quicker than any of the archers could shoot him.

Lieut heard the click of the crossbows and he dove into a forward roll, causing the bolts to bounce off the stone. As he came to his feet he skilfully deflected two more arrows and then darted towards the two men up the path. But before he moved two more steps his vision blurred as a wave of energy slammed into him from Orinno’s spell. Lieut’s sword would not absorb the magicks for he was still within the sphere of void. He had no defences against the magicks and darkness took him.

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No cold steel and bright monitors with flashing lights and dials filled the dark room. The usual silence was filled with noise of the waking city and to the east the sun was beginning to rise and send glowing rays through the tall buildings.

She was sitting at a round metal table relaxing and enjoying the morning at the terrace park of the tall building. It was the perfect spot to soak up the morning sunshine, and with her apartment only a block away it was also convenient. Air cars moved by her as they quietly took people to work or brought them home after a busy night.

She sighed and sipped at the hot beverage she was warming her hands around. She would be starting work soon and was glad of the time she could spend just sitting and relaxing.

“Good morning,” her friend greeted her as she sat down opposite, similarly drinking from a paper cup.

Her friend was also wearing the same uniform as her, and had her hair tied up in the same fashion. If it was not for her friend’s features she could believe that she was looking into a mirror.

“Ready for another day?” she asked light-heartedly.

“Death take me, no,” her friend rolled her eyes. “How was your weekend?”

She sighed. “What weekend?”

“The Commander still has you working long hours?”

“With the abnormalities Number One is still suffering from he has me double checking all of them over and over, as well as constantly running analysis on Number Two and Three.

“What about you?” she asked tiredly. “How are the mission parameters forming?”

Her friend smiled wide. “They are going good. Latest intelligence explains secret tunnels through the city and into the Guild.”

“Really?” she said in surprise.

Her friend nodded excitedly and took a drink from her cup. “Hopefully it will be executed without any problems unlike last time.”

“Do you know what went wrong last time?” she asked curiously.

Her friend suddenly looked sheepish. “I am not supposed to talk about Number One’s mission, nor the details of the failure.”

She nodded, expecting as much.

“But I will say this: it was indeed the High Commission and one of their Regional Commanders,” her friend said with a sparkle of mischief in her dark grey eyes, “and they are now claiming that we betrayed them.”

“Do you think it will be a problem?” she asked, a concerned expression on her face.

“Probably not.” her friend shrugged. “Our emissary will smooth things over no doubt.”

A loud bell rang throughout the city, grabbing their attention.

“What? Is that the time?” her friend exclaimed. “We should get going.”

Her friend got up and hailed a cab with a wave of her hand.

She joined her friend in the back seat of the cab and looked out of the car’s window to watch the buildings fly by. The cab took them through the city, up around the buildings, sometimes even through the structures. They passed by the huge stadium, which held the weekly championship matches; this weekend was the second round of the championship. Sadly she would likely miss it and the Commander would have her continuing with her work. Personally she had never been very successful in the championships and she was always eliminated in the first few rounds.

“Take Cloud Way and through the Emister Building,” her friend instructed the brown-haired cab driver.

“Dawncast Drive is always slow around this time,” her friend remarked to her.

Several minutes later the car flew through the large building and out the other side where a huge towering structure greeted them. It was the tallest and widest in the city and was where they were heading.

“Here we are m’Ladies, HQ,” the driver said as he pulled up to the docking bay of the tower.

She and her friend paid him a small amount before exiting the cab.

As they walked out into a large terrace fore court, which was halfway up the building, she and her friend joined the crowd of people that wore the same uniforms as they moved into the HQ building.

“Yet another day,” she remarked despondently as she walked through the doors.

She said farewell to her friend before checking in at the desk and heading to the lifts that would take her to the floor she worked on.

The lift ride was quick and soon she found herself in the room where her station was located.

Cold steel and bright monitors filled the dark room each with flashing lights and dials, each designed for a specific purpose and at each of them someone sat, staring at the dials and lights. In a room full of sounds of machinery and technology it was hard to believe the level of silence. Not a word could be heard from the individuals watching the screens so intently, their focus was fixed which they had learnt to not let slip from their tasks.

Discipline had been drilled into them since they had first set foot in the world, the weak fell and the strong continued on. Only the best survived in this world, and here they were, in a small room staring at monitors, such menial tasks set for warriors of great skill. After years of brutal training they had reached great heights of physical and mental ability, and yet here they were sitting in front of a data screen, their faces stamped with boredom.

She sighed again as she turned her monitor on and began work, how she longed for these days of peace to be over and for the days of war to be upon them.

****************************************************

PS – Looks like Lieut and company are once again in a bad situation. How will they get out of this one? And what is this Emister Building and talk of War? Find out in the next exciting chapter of Chaos Of Choice.

If you have yet to read the previous chapters you can find them all on my profile. Or if you cannot wait for the next installment you can buy the whole thing through any good online bookstore in both Kindle or Paperback formats.

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