Another side: Chapter 9

Chapter 9, beginning of part 2

Morg’s eyes snapped open as the ship hit some turbulence. He had hoped they had passed all that a while back, but it looks like he wasn’t destined for a long rest anytime soon. Fine by him. Morg felt like he had only been asleep for ten minutes, but the digital clock in the ship said otherwise. It was almost two in the morning, and he had fallen asleep a little after one o clock had rolled around. He stood up from his seat, stretching his limbs. An almost metallic sound echoed throughout the cabin as he did so, waking up Rosh. Both he and Liberi had fallen asleep shortly after their departure from the forest, which was surprising considering all they had been through. Rosh tested his bound arms again, but they were still held behind him by something that kept pulling on his arm feathers whenever he tugged. Of course, if it meant freedom, he was willing to lose a few arm feathers. But hopefully it wouldn’t have to come to that. He was drained of magic at the moment, but he could feel it slowly coming back to him. Soon he could fight again. Maybe a few arrows flying around the cabin would make things a little better. The few remaining soldiers sat across from him, Liberi, and Martin on the opposite row of seats. A few had slumped over for some sleep, but the ones that were still awake were alert, and all of them awake or asleep still clutched their weapons.

“Hope you guys know that my dad’s got one of the best Arbiter’s in Arcadia, and he’ll sue you guys for everything down to your shiny boots.” Rosh boasted cockily.

The soldiers just sat there, not making any remark.

“In case any of you jarheads didn’t know, an Arbiter is their equivalent of a lawyer.” Morg stated. Unlike the other soldiers, he was seated on the same row as the prisoners. Hearing that voice reminded Rosh of Martin’s current state.

“And he’ll make sure you get locked up until you rot for what you’ve done.” Rosh threatened Morg, though the only thing he had to back that statement up with was an angry tone.

“Then I guess I’d be there until judgment day, or the rapture, or whatever it is you birds believe in.” Morg retorted, the cruel smile back on his face. Finished with stretching, Morg straightened up, his head almost touching the roof. Without another word, he walked through the doorway that led to the short hallway between the seating area and the cockpit of the ship. This small area had a first aid kit, and was commonly reserved for the Commander to sit. It was now empty of any gear, except for a few ammo cartridges. He picked up a full pistol cartridge, looking it over. Morg felt there was something ironic about it being there, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. A computer monitor was set into the wall for communication purposes. Despite his dislike for tech, Morg knew how to operate it. It had been in basic training, which had been even more basic for them than the other soldiers. Dialing in the frequency he had memorized like 911, Morg waited for someone on the other end to pick up. Morg heard the ruffling of a phone on the other end as someone picked up.

“Hello?” a tired sounding voice asked on the other end.

“Hey Doc, its me.” Morg said.

“Morg?” The voice asked, now less drowsy sounding.

“Who else could it be? I thought you were supposed to be the genius here.”

“Yes, of course. I appreciate the call, but honestly, I would have preferred you wait until you get back here for you’re debriefing. I only get three hours of sleep, and I can’t afford to waste a minute.”

“Just calling to let you know we got some prisoners from the raid. Do you think you need them?”

“It depends. How many are male and how are many female? What’s their ethnicity? What’s their age? I need variables to judge usefuln…”

“Two male, one female, and all birds.” Morg interrupted.

“…Avos? Are you certain?”

“Well they’ve got feathers all over their bodies and have beaks, so I’m going to guess an affirmative on that one.”

“This is extraordinary!” The doctor shouted, sharply contrasting with his quiet tone from earlier. “My research will make a marvelous leap forward with three alien test subjects. I hope you didn’t damage them too much.”

“Well…”

Morg looked back through the doorway towards Martin, who was still unconscious. He was sure he hadn’t hit the guy hard enough to kill him. The medic assured he would be alright once given to a proper medical facility.

“I think I might’ve sent one of them into a coma, but I’m sure you can fix him up.”

“Yes, your faith is well placed. I once wrote an essay on Avos anatomy, which was hard to do until I got an Avos to study. Now, if only I could get some Plutarch subjects, or maybe some aliens from that accursed ghetto. Regardless, my research will break boundaries with non-human subjects with magic control. When can you drop them off?”

“I’m headed your way in a ship right now. I’ll drop them off, and then head off to join the soldiers planning to raid the factory.”

“The raid on the Plutarch factory? Oh no, I’m afraid I can’t allow that.” The doctor said.

“And why the hell not?” Morg asked, anger rising in him.

“For starters, I’m not certain you can handle two missions in a row. I need you back here so I can observe how you’re faring. You have after all only recently become mission capable. But don’t worry, I’ll send someone else in your place”

“And who is it you’re sending?” Morg questioned, not at all eased by this idea of sending someone else.

“Subject 7.” The doctor responded.

“What!” Morg shouted, startling the soldiers and prisoners in the cargo area.

“Why him? He can hardly fight, he’s downright annoying, and he can hardly fight!”

“I admit his combat abilities are questionable. But he has a… unique power that will serve well for infiltration purposes. Besides, he’s the only one currently available. Subject 5 is off to her usual place along with subject 6, and I can’t send you. I’m not sure you can handle two fights back to back.”

“What about subject 1 and 2?” Morg asked.

“Subject 2 has already been deployed, and no further interaction with him will be made. Subject 1 is classified still, and we will never discuss that one.”

“If you wanted it to be so secret, you shouldn’t have named us all in numerical order. As soon as someone traces one of us as subject whatever number, everyone behind them is as good as exposed.”

“Yes, thank you for pointing out the flaws in my methods. But even things that seem obvious have secrets. Regardless, 7 is the one being sent and nothing will change my mind.”

“Alright, but when he fails, and I mean “when” he fails, I want you to admit you were wrong.”

“I have no doubt he might fail in a combat situation, but he can at least buy time for the soldiers to steal as much tech as possible. We need to get a lot though if we’re going to make this work. Goodbye Morg. I will see you when you return.”

The doctor hung up on his end, leaving Morg to fume at his rejection. He walked back to his seat, trying and failing to look calm.

“Have a bad talk with daddy?” Rosh asked smugly.

“Shut up. I only need you alive, not unharmed.” Morg responded.

Rosh just smiled, trying to make himself comfortable in his seat.

“Hey, you.” Liberi said, directing her speech to Morg.

“Yes.” He answered, still somewhat angry from earlier.

“You really seem to have a good understanding of our culture, unlike other humans. Where did you learn it all?”

“Why do you care. I thought some snotty student like you could figure it out.”

“My first guess was that you went to the academy, but I don’t think so. They only recently started letting humans in, and you’re too old to have actually gone there.”

“You’re right. I never went to the academy. Got all my knowledge on magic from my own private teacher and everything else the good old internet. Not as good as how it was back on Earth I hear, but it’s still there. That all?”

“No. Who were your parents? You shouldn’t be able to use magic unless one of them was an Avos.”

“I’m not talking about who my parents were, but I can assure you one of them wasn’t a filthy bird. Ask something else.”

“Fine. You wear Graceful assassin heavy armor, but you control fire. Why is that?” Liberi asked, referring to armor commonly worn by Avos with control over water.

“I like the way it looks. Better than wearing hardened lava, and much cooler and lighter with the same protection. You really don’t have the questions I thought someone like you would have.”

“And what questions do you think I would have had?”

“I don’t know. Some vague mind shattering questions like “who are you” or “what are you going to do with us”. Really, this entire mission is like some action movie so far, you could at least play along.”

“Movie?” Liberi asked, confused by the term.

“Sorry, I mean extended broadcast for you. You guys really are inferior technology wise. Maybe you’ll get the chance to see an HD movie while in Delvis, but I doubt it. The doc’s eager to meet you, and he doesn’t like to delay on his experiments.”

“What is a doc?”

“A doctor. That’s just the nickname he’s got though. Really, he’s more of a scientist, and a damn scary one at that. Believe me, you’ll wish I had killed back in the forest after a week with him.” Morg stated ominously.

The conversation over, Morg slouched down in his seat again, going back to sleep. Liberi looked to Rosh, and both of them silently agreed on one thing. Whoever this guy was, he was not a normal human.

As the Delvin capital city came into view, Gren looked up from his position on the ship roof. He had secured himself to the roof with some more plants from the forest. Hopefully when the ship first landed, anyone seeing the plants would pass them off as just some shrubbery that had got caught on the ship as it took off. But getting away from the ship would be the easy part. He would be in enemy territory, far from home, with no allies he could count on. But when you had a teacher like Master Greenwell, that felt like an everyday class period.