Planet: Kestra, Odaport

First Insurgency War

MERYN

I already miss the chill.

Odaport's suffocating, hot air blew into his face when he departed the shipyard after failed contact with General Falae the past few days. It was Beckett who contacted him in the end. The fact that they both want to see me makes me uneasy... what is going on? He checked the out of the way shipyard in the middle of the giant metropolis. Ava longed to view it in all its splendour, but time sullied it.

I don't know if you can see this place. Meryn shook his head at the winding solar highways. In their shadow, the lower districts shone with neon light. But... it's a bit of a shithole. He stretched and made his way through the rustic underbelly of the Sanctum. Spare parts littered the shipyard entrance, locked with hasty edevic weights though no one sought to 'reclaim' them. A couple of Elites sat at their posts on the sides of apartment blocks or over the roof bridges which connected stores.

It was difficult to not be intimidated by their crimson gazes.

He walked through the District Merger to reach the Sanctum HQ, where an eagle-eyed shadow stood at the post with their hands on their rifle. Meryn tapped them on the shoulder, which caused them to turn.

"Hi," he said. "Is Beckett in the city? Name is Meryn Matthey. He wanted to talk to me. He sent me this ID to verify." He held up the infopod, but lowered his hand when the Elite stared at him. "Hello?" He frowned when it took a moment of movement to break the tension, and they sent their thumb over their shoulder to the Sanctum HQ.

"Cool," Meryn said, then the Elite detached themselves from their post and shouldered their rifle. "You'll take me?"

He followed them at their nod. Nervous prickles swept down his spine. He frowned when they eyed him. "Something on my face?"

They turned.

Meryn hesitated when they entered the clean-cut courtyard of the Sanctum sector. Next to the rustic charm of the lower levels, the place was impossibly clean. Massive skyscrapers spread shadows over the refurbished streets, where business projections spun at the tops. Another Elite waited for them at the concrete fencing which surrounded the Strike Force base of the sector.

A Guardian. He peeked at their tag. A-3. I wouldn't want to fight these two.

"So." Meryn rehashed his introduction. "Beckett wanted me to come here. I have his signature if you require it. Meryn Matthey." Everything out of order, he ignored his lapse in brainpower. "Do you need me to undergo a scan?"

The Guardian opened the energy gate and left Meryn alone with the sniper. Meryn adjusted his shirt, but jolted when the Elite jumped. "Hey," he said and raised his hand in submission. "I'm not looking for trouble." He brushed it through his hair with a wince, but frowned when the Elite placed their hand against their heart, digging their fingers into their uniform. "You alright?"

"Meryn Matthey!"

The Guardian brought Beckett to him, where a wide grin plastered on the older man's face. "Been keeping yourself busy?" he asked. "Come in. I want to have a talk with you."

Paraded into the compound, Meryn cut to the chase, "What is it you want to talk to me about?"

"It's not something that is safe to talk about in the open around here."

Several soldiers stomped around the compound, but Beckett took him through the next security gate where the HQ lay. Into the dome, many people waited for their turn. Numbers flashed on the I-Screen's over the receptionist desks. Beckett moved around them and headed to the glass elevator.

The Sniper Elite continued to glare at him.

"Beckett," Meryn mumbled. "I don't think that one wants me here."

Both the Guardian and Beckett turned at his words. Two pairs of crimson dug into his soul. He pressed himself in the back of the lift and shifted for a way out when it closed behind them. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he repeated. "I haven't done anything illegal."

"Matthey, it's okay," Beckett assured. "You're not in trouble." He nodded at the two Elites. "You don't have to monitor him."

The Guardian nodded and kept a polite distance from him. It was the Eagle-Eye who refused to back down. Meryn stared back in hope to reflect the same pressure they extruded. Beckett scratched his chin, then reached his hand for the small switch attached to the collar cuff of the Elite's uniform.

Before the Elite reacted, Beckett pressed the dial.

Meryn stifled a yelp when the mask dissipated to reveal a face.

One who faced down larger opponents.

One who stayed by his side while bullies pushed him around.

One who ran into the fire when he tried to stop him.

James.

His old friend, who stared at him with deep, blood-red eyes. Meryn released himself from the wall of the lift to come closer to James. "Jamesy?"

The Guardian snorted, and a woman's voice mused with a chuckle, "Jamesy?"

James broke out of the intense staredown, and Meryn reached for his friend before he left him behind again and again. James turned his back on him and ignored him. Arms crossed, his lips twisted into an irritated scowl. Heart scrunched, he retreated from the flaming thoughts.

You are alive after all...

He looked like James, but it didn't feel like James. James, who captured frozen moments in time. James, who held his datacam close to his heart to take a picture of anything, no matter how small and insignificant. James, always up for some mischief and a laugh.

Stone bloodlust. Nothing at all.

The lift stopped at the highest level, and Meryn was paraded out of the elevator and into a large office. Commander Beckett indicated for him to sit in front of the circular desk. He took a seat and eyed James. He hoped for the same familiarity Rayan gave and longed for a different reality.

Beneath the haunted eyes of gold, Rayan responded to him.

He no longer recognized James, who stood off to the side with his hands against his back. No matter how he fought to put a familiar visage over him the smoke blurred him; fire immolated him. Meryn clasped the arms of the chair and bit down on his tongue. "Why am I here, Beckett? I don't take war marks."

"No, the Sanctum doesn't want anything from you," Beckett reassured. "I was wondering if you've been in contact with Aelius Matthey."

"Aelius?" Meryn mumbled and folded his arms. "Everyone wants to talk to him these days. I have to keep telling people he's busy saving lives from this war."

In a moment, he regretted saying anything at all.

Beckett and James stared at him with intensity, but Beckett smiled gently. "Someone else was looking for him?"

Meryn set the boundary down. "Look, no offense, but I'm a Hunter. I don't want any involvement in what's going on."

"None taken," Beckett replied. "Ever since he excused himself from the Sanctum Research Branch we haven't had contact with him." He sighed then lifted a datapad on the desk. "What with the moves the First Insurgency has taken against us it's caused worry in several channels of the Strike Forces that there's some sort of leak. We've been lucky to avoid major conflicts out in the open but with pirates out of the picture the Insurgency might take their chance — or so General Keaton believes."

"Why do you need my brother?"

It went silent.

"Well..." Beckett started.

"I want information."

The new, yet familiar voice caused everyone to jump to attention. Mrs. Falae stood in the doorframe, a spitting image of her son save for her blue eyes. She stalked to the desk and put another datapad in front of him. Her smile shifted back into the mother he got used to. "I'm glad to see you're well, Meryn, and I'm sorry for putting this on you in such short notice."

Meryn relaxed and nodded at her to continue.

"Let's start with what we can do," she said. "James."

Meryn turned to his unfamiliar friend, who finally acknowledged him. He sighed, then shrugged. "They want Aelius around to keep an eye on me," he said, disinterested at whatever predicament he found himself in which needed Aelius' intervention. "I don't think it's necessary, it hasn't prevented me from doing my job."

Meryn winced at the smoke-filled memory. "James, wait, I—"

James interrupted him, "Since they won't take no as an answer from me, we just need him for a few days to monitor me. Besides, we have a few injuries and our Strike Forces are short-staffed on the medical end of things."

"James—"

His old friend never let him get a word in and slammed the door on his face. "So, Matthey, whatever information you have we'd like for you to relinquish it," he said. "We also have reports of the First Insurgency making small-scale attacks on places quarantined due to health reasons."

Rayan did not mention that.

He stood in the door while it slammed into his toes over and over. He crawled out of his chair, and the Guardian stepped forward when he choked James' uniform with both hands and tugged him closer.

"Can you shut up for a minute?" Ember anger swallowed his throat and set his limbs on fire.

"Matthey," Beckett said. "It's alright."

It's not alright.

He stared into James' eyes and hunted for the hazel of Ava. For something. Anything to tell him his friend remained.

James hadn't budged from his show of force, when Rayan backed off.

Rayan laughed — a familiar laugh no matter how much time twisted it.

James never moved a muscle.

He was gone.

"I can tell you what I've told everyone else in this damn solar system," Meryn growled. "I don't want involvement in the Insurgency or the Strike Forces."

Who are you? I never thought you'd go through with this — let alone becoming an Elite. Ava would beat the shit out of you if she saw what you were turning into.

James's nostrils flared. "We're not going to force you to tell us where Aelius is," he said in a calm, unaffected tone. "I'd rather not be impeded by unforeseen... complications. So." James leaned away from him, and the guilt he buried crawled its way back to the surface of ember dirt. "Can you release me?"

Meryn hesitated. "If you want information, I want some myself."

James sneered at him, but he refused to let go of his friend.

It was General Falae who spoke, "I can't say how much I can reveal, but what do you want to know?"

"In some of my channels I've been hearing weird things," Meryn explained. "Strange unlisted deaths attributed to a virus that's spreading fast. So far, it's come to a halt due to the tactically placed quarantines." He viewed all their expressions, and tested the water of knowledge. "I, of course, can't say this is concrete. Rumors are rumors. But, I find it weird that it's spread to towns and cities with suspected, if not previous, Insurgent activity. It could be a coincidence." He loosened his grip on James. "Have the Strike Forces tried to figure out what caused the pandemic related deaths? Along..." Meryn glared at General Falae. "Along with said moves the First Insurgency is making against the Strike Forces."

Air snapped in two.

It's not the audible information I want. It's how you react to what I say.

General Falae's features tightened, while James' sneer dropped, and Meryn glared into the crimson for any hint of love for gold. He caught it in the firelight of a campfire, bright as the sun. He met with the mirror anger in his own heart, so he returned his attention to General Falae, who tented her fingers.

You know your son is alive. You know where he is and that he is your enemy... I have what I want.

"Aelius is working at the same hospital from before," he replied through the silence and studied James, where the anger disappeared. He released James, who brushed himself off.

"Thank you for your time, Meryn," General Falae said. Worry, born of a mother's hope, melted the blues.

Meryn went to move away, but stopped when James unlatched the twin necklace and held it out to him, with the dogtags replacing the last connection to Eastpoint and Ava. "Here, Matthey."

"What?"

"I want you to have it. I don't need it anymore."

I think you're the one person who needs it the most. Meryn scoffed when James shoved it into his hands. For the final time, the door slammed shut on his face and pushed him out of frame. He grappled for some semblance of familiarity, of the photographer and writer — not the stone-cold soldier who replaced him.

Ava would've... been heartbroken.

Meryn latched it around his neck. "Sorry I wasn't that much help," he said. "Good luck with your war."

The Guardian Elite escorted him out and to the elevator. Meryn released the tight feeling in his throat. Dammit, James...

"Were you two friends?" the Guardian Elite asked.

Meryn stopped and faced her, and she brought a hand to the dial. It shifted to reveal a round-faced woman, and unlike James, her eyes were a deep grey.

"A... long time ago," Meryn forced out. "I don't... know him anymore."

She frowned at his words. "I'm Maia." She stretched out her hand. "Maia Urtanes."

"Meryn." Meryn hugged himself and shook her hand.

"He meant a lot to you?"

He found the strength to nod.

Maia kept her hand outstretched. "Can you give me the necklace?"

"Why?" Meryn blocked it with his hand.

"I need it to help him."

Meryn hesitated, but something about Maia reminded him of something. Something on the tip of his tongue. Ava had a solution to everything, and when she couldn't find a solution, she'd create one from nothing at all.

He released the connection of hope once again and placed it in her hands, and when he looked up, a hazy image of Ava beamed at him with trust and undying love of friendship.